Webster defines farfetched as being “brought from a remote time or place.” As a name then, Farfetched would refer to someone who had been fetched from afar. Such a person might have been called from afar by Spirit. This happened to me.
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I didn’t understand any of this for the longest time, but when I was still in LA, working on my PhD in Clinical Psychology, I worked at a child guidance clinic in Hollywood. A patient of mine there, a young boy of eleven years, liked me a lot. Once, when we were out walking, he called me Farfetched. When I asked him what he meant by that, he said that I was really far out, someone he wished he could be more like.

Somehow his comment stuck in my head, and sometime later, I told my son Jonathan what the boy had said to me. I asked him what he thought of Farfetched as a name. He liked it as a name, said it was okay, but then he laughed and added that I should never call myself Outrageous. I never did. I knew my limitations.
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When I was with Karen, during my early wandering days, we took Howlingwolf as a last name. We used to howl at the moon when we were out of doors, which was most of the time in those days. During that time in my life, I was Farfetched Howlingwolf and proud of it. Looking back from here and now though, that name seems more than a bit outrageous in and of itself.

Later on, when I was spending time with the Rainbow Family, going to their gatherings and becoming friends with many of the folks, Farfetched was my rainbow name. Most of the folks in the Rainbow Family knew me as Farfetched, know me by no other.

It’s odd; I have never called myself Wanderer, although in my heart and soul I am Wanderer. I have used Wanderer as a name only in my books. I’m tempted again though, as I was once in Flagstaff, a long time ago, when Wanderer came to me in a dream and asked me to take Wanderer as my name. I refused then, feeling that I could be Wanderer without calling myself that. Now I’m not so sure.
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I’ve always felt that the reason I was fetched back from afar – fetched back to life when I died as a young boy – was because I had something important to do with my life. As I grew older, I identified with Black Elk, the Lakota holy man, and others who had died as young boys and who had been returned to life for spiritual purposes. Like them, I too was brought back from death to share a message from Spirit.

When I was a young boy and died on the operating table, when I was falling into the darkness and about to panic, a voice called out to me, told me that there was no bottom, to turn the falling into flying. Somehow I did this, and, shedding my fears, I flew blissfully towards the White Light that waited for me.

I realize now that the message I was brought back from death to share was what the voice had told me as I was freaked out and falling – that there is no bottom. There is no ending to our lives as conscious beings. Our consciousness doesn’t end with the death of our bodies. We go on.

Remember this when you are leaving your body: There is no bottom. You are not falling. You are flying. Fly blissfully to the Light.