Herb Fitch · The Infinite Way

The Seven T.R.'s: Herb Fitch's Path from Transformation to Immortality

Herb Fitch, Tape 5 of the 1978 Mystical Tape Series — presented by Mike Spirit Ademola

What if the words "transformation," "transmutation," and "transition" were not vague spiritual metaphors, but an actual, describable sequence — a path you could walk, step by step, out of a dying body and into eternal life? In the fifth tape of his Mystical Tape Series, recorded from Kauai in 1978, Herb Fitch lays out exactly that: seven stages he calls the "T.R.'s," each one beginning with the same two letters, each one a rung on a ladder that Joel Goldsmith's Infinite Way had already mapped but rarely named so plainly.

Fitch opens with a correction. Paul's famous instruction, "Be ye transformed by the renewing of the mind," has misled centuries of seekers into thinking transformation is a mental exercise — new thoughts, better thoughts, positive thoughts. But Paul said it another way too: "Be renewed in the Spirit of your mind." That single change of emphasis, Fitch insists, opens an entirely different door.

Not the Mind — the Spirit of the Mind

The lesson's turning point is a distinction most students of scripture glide past. Transformation, Fitch teaches, is impossible for as long as you continue to believe you are a material person living in a material body. It isn't achieved by rearranging thoughts within a mind that still believes itself housed in flesh. It happens only when consciousness is renewed "in the Spirit" — when the mind surrenders its claim to be the final authority on what you are.

"Be renewed in the Spirit of your mind." — and "Be renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created you."

Fitch calls this the recognition of the "mystical body of Spirit" — not a future reward, but a present fact obscured by the belief in form. The work, he says, is not to improve the human picture but to stop mistaking it for reality at all.

Skylab, a Mountain, and a Group Consciousness

To make the stakes concrete, Fitch tells a story his listeners would have remembered vividly: the 1979 reentry of NASA's seventy-seven-ton Skylab space station, which much of the world feared would crash into a populated city. Fitch's group had spent months in nightly 8 p.m. meditations — first on weather, then on transportation — and reported a marked drop in disasters and road fatalities during that period. When Skylab threatened, the group was, in his words, at "the peak level of a meditation on transportation in the air, on the land and in the sea." The station broke apart over the Indian Ocean and remote Australia, causing no injuries.

"For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, be thou removed and be thou cast into the sea… he shall have whatsoever he saith." (Mark 11:23)

Whether one reads this as coincidence or confirmation, Fitch uses it the way Joel Goldsmith always used demonstration: not as proof to argue over, but as evidence for the individual who lived through it — evidence that a "living group consciousness… not in a form but a living Spirit" is not a metaphor either.

The Seven T.R.'s

From there Fitch names the seven steps directly, each a doorway into the next:

Truth — not words memorized or quoted, but a substance to be found, not with the mind but beyond it. Transcend the mind — rising above every belief that matter has power, that a certain kind of matter governs your supply or your health. Transparency — the Soul, released from the prison of mind, becomes a channel through which "the words of Christ… will be speaking inaudibly and sometimes audibly." Transformation — truth flowing through that transparency reshapes consciousness itself, and here, Fitch says, conscious effort ends and grace begins.

Then the twin action: Transmutation, in which the transformed consciousness remakes the very sense of body — "another body, another heart, another life" — followed by Transition, walking the earth already free of dependence on the visible body. A rare seventh step, Translation, Fitch reserves for those like Enoch, "for whom the world can never find your physical body" — the mortal image so fully surrendered that even its memory dissolves.

"There is no conscious effort. There is no taking thought. You are now entering the period of Grace."

To anchor the sequence in scripture, Fitch turns to three linked New Testament healings: the twelve-year-old girl raised from what looked like a coma, the young man restored to life in his coffin at Nain, and Lazarus called out of the tomb. He reads them not as three separate miracles but as one process shown in three acts — transformation, transmutation, and transition — "actual symbols of processes that actually take place within your consciousness."

The Principle of No Power

Underneath all seven steps sits what Fitch calls Joel Goldsmith's most repeated teaching: the principle of no power. Give no power to man, place, or thing. Give no power to good or evil, to employment or unemployment, to wealth or poverty, to disease or disaster.

"Seek no God power. Just open your Soul. Accept no limitations. Just open your Soul. Son, all I have is thine."

The instant you resist an appearance — reaching, in Fitch's phrase, to "draw your sword to resist evil" — you have granted that appearance the very power you were meant to withhold from it. The discipline isn't positive thinking about a problem; it's declining to accept that the problem has standing in a spiritual universe where only God is present.

Praying for Energy Without Asking

Fitch closes the tape with a group meditation on energy, offered against the real 1970s "energy crisis" but pointed at something larger. Divine energy, he teaches, is not scarce and cannot be manufactured by human effort — it is already infinite and already present, withheld only by a mind that has separated itself from its Source. The meditation is deliberately not a petition: "I am not asking for more coal or more sun power… I am resting in the living Word which doeth the works."

It's a fitting close to a lesson that keeps circling back to the same reversal: not striving upward toward God, but recognizing what is already, invisibly, everywhere present — and getting the human mind out of the way long enough to let it be seen.