Myrna Klupenger
Author
My Story
Hello and welcome!
The Home Page has a brief description of Myrna Klupenger, but here I would like to introduce myself to you and share why I came to co-author a book about rainmakers and weather-workers and how people influence the weather.
I’ve always been interested in science and curious about mind-matter research, and somewhere along the way, during my careers in the food service industry and real estate, a small popular book with a photograph of an ice crystal on its cover made a big impression on me. It was The Message from Water by Masaru Emoto. The water crystal research of Emoto is familiar to many and was highlighted in the film “What the Bleep!?: Down the Rabbit Hole”. One premise of his books is that our emotions and words affect the structure of water, which is revealed in water crystals. A deep curiosity was planted in my mind.
In the early 2000s I retired from a catering business, worked with my husband on fix-up projects, took dance classes, did some volunteering, and took up knitting. Yes, knitting. Intermittently I had recurring dreams with a college theme, often with frustration of not having enough credits to graduate. I’d wake up with relief that I got my BA degree years ago. However, after a few years of retirement I considered going back to school.
Now, the last time I was in college we did research with books and wrote on a typewriter. Could I, at age 58, go to graduate school? Two synchronicities confirmed it for me.
I considered taking a research writing class at the local community college taught by K. Brown. At a weekend dance workshop, my friend Cathy and I manned the registration desk. Cathy teaches at the college, so I asked her if she knew anything about K. Brown’s classes. We both looked up as someone entered the lobby, and Cathy said, “Why don’t you ask her? There she is.” So, I did. I thrived in Karen’s class and wrote my class paper on intention and water, based on my questions about Dr. Emoto’s water crystal research.
Several months later I was still toying with the idea of further education and casually checking out graduate schools in line with my interests in energy medicine and consciousness. I decided to enroll in an evening class on digital photography. Totally off subject. At the college front desk, I was told the class was full, so I checked to see what other classes were available. Humm? A 4-credit class in Microbiology. “Could I take this class?” I asked. “Well… it has pre-requisites of Biology and Chemistry, but you could ask Professor Stone.” At that very moment the front door opened and a man walked in. You guessed it - Professor Stone! He said he would be happy to have me in the class and if it was too difficult for me, I could audit it rather than take a grade. With intense study I did well in the class, proving to myself I was capable of pursuing a master of science degree.
In graduate school, water became a theme in most of my research writing, along with the effects of human consciousness on matter. Some of the scientific research on the effect of human intention on water is covered in our book. This is fascinating stuff with broad implications. The adult human body is about 70% water. 99.9% of the molecules in the human body are H2O molecules. Granted, they are the smallest of organic molecules, but their role in human physiology is profound. That human intention affects water might be an explanation for energy healing or healing by prayer.
We’ve all heard of rain dances performed by native medicine men to bring much needed rain to their tribe. I can picture it in my mind, but where did that picture come from? As my research focus moved from “intention and water” to “weather,” I found documented stories of weather-workers – medicine men, shamans and modern weather-workers, some who developed or used devices to influence weather. One anecdotal account may not mean much, may be easy to dismiss. But many? From different cultures, continents, and eras? In our book, Rainmakers and Weather-Workers, we’ll share many of these stories with you. You decide.
For about 30 years my husband and I have lived in a small city on the Oregon Coast. Florence is known as the “City of Rhododendrons.” The beautiful bushes with multiple pink blossoms are native to the area and usually at their peak in May. In 1907 the people of Florence celebrated their first Rhododendron Festival and it’s been an (almost) annual event with flower shows, parades, and a carnival ever since. May is a rainy month on the Oregon Coast, but I, and many others over the years, noticed that it seldom rained during the Grand Floral Parade on Sunday. Sometimes there were showers during the morning but it cleared for the parade. Sometimes the rainclouds moved in Sunday afternoon as most of the visitors were leaving. Was it possible that the community’s desire for a rain-free weekend affected the weather? I designed a research project around this question, and during the process, I discovered that Roger Nelson PhD of the PEAR research lab, had conducted a similar study about the weather and an annual event in his hometown of Princeton, New Jersey. I contacted Roger to compare research methods and ideas.
A few months later, a much younger academic than I, also contacted Roger Nelson about studies on weather influence. Roger introduced us. And that is how Myrna Klupenger from Oregon met Dani Caputi from New York. We eventually combined our resources to co-author this book.
Dani Caputi
Co-author
My Story
When I was five years old, I was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. Even though I was able to speak, my functioning was severely limited by how easy it was for my senses to become overwhelmed. Among many other things, sudden loud noises like the clapping of thunder were something that I could not tolerate and would send me into a panic attack or bodily meltdown. I grew up on Long Island, New York where thunderstorms are quite common in the humid summer. Fast forward a couple of years and there was quite an unexpected shift. In my early adolescence, high speed internet was becoming widely available in American homes. It was during this time that my father showed me how to access and read the Doppler radar maps, which changed my world. Suddenly, what I was afraid of my whole life became a fascinating thing to watch, as thunderstorms formed, danced across the sky, and dissipated. To make a (very) long story short, my interest in extreme weather events only grew from there, and this led me to eventually get a doctoral degree in Atmospheric Science from the University of California, Davis.
Something that would often help me with my auditory sensory overload was music. I learned to play the piano when I was eight, and continued this passion through my adulthood as I now teach piano lessons as a side gig to my academic work. To me, music was always able to induce flow states, or states of consciousness where ideas flourish and intuition takes over. While it is often taught in school that the arts and sciences are opposites, in my life they have gone hand-in-hand. While dogma often prevails in academia that keep creativity and philosophy out of hard science, history disagrees. Nobel Prize winning scientists are nearly three times as likely to be artists or musicians than non-Nobel Prize winning scientists.
While I’ve always felt there was a connection between human experience and rigorous science, this did not really become concrete in my mind until I read Weather Shamanism by Nan Moss and David Corbin. While I had previously read about the Gaia Hypothesis proposed by James Lovelock stating that Earth and life are in a symbiotic relationship, Moss’s book presented a compelling case for the further interconnectedness of humans and the atmosphere, and there began my interest in the topic of humans influencing the weather.
After getting my graduate degree, I started working with a Navy veteran engineer who had inspired me with his inventions on random number generators, which generate quantum noise that is often the target of mind-matter interaction experiments (e.g. the Global Consciousness Project). When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, we began rapidly developing what would turn out to be the world’s first consumer-grade hybrid quantum computer that interfaces with human consciousness through these quantum noise sources. With this computer, among many other things, we were able to build a version of a research-grade weather model that is infused with this mind-machine interface technology.
In light of the environmental and climate crises we face, we need innovations from every perspective, including those outside the box of scientific materialism. I am thrilled to be a co-author of this story on the leading edge of new science.