Future lives Foretold

I don't remember if this was in the dream or afterwards, but we were supposed to be together.  That much is true.  But in this current incarnation, it would require some sort of heroic effort because the energies were too different now, too far apart, and there would be all sorts of collateral damage. 

We are like young souls, seeds trying to burrow up through the ground and find the sunlight.  And we know that next to us somewhere in the earth is the fellow traveler, blinding burrowing up like our self somewhere in the dark.  But it seems so far away.  And we know that we must stop and some point in this life, and carry on again in the next, but always with the future promise that has been foretold. 

In the meantime, I am supposed to help you in the journey.  In ways that are not yet manifest.  That is what I am here for.

And of course, you were involved in some sort of contract dispute.  And the dispute was not clearly understood and the party you were having the dispute with you should not have been involved with, but like I said before, we are young souls, and this sort of thing was bound to happen. 

But then I was with this person who you were having a dispute with.  We were in some sort of spaceship above a planet like some sort of cheesy star trek episode.  But I was very upset with her because she was trying to destroy the planet, and I was having none of that.  I don't remember what happened after that.

God has Spiked Blue Hair and Glasses

The fact that God has spiked blue hair and glasses, should not, on further reflection, come as a surprise.  She of course is a rebel and always looking for a fight.

But first let's set up a protocol if you want to meet her.  First, all this stuff about blue light being bad for you at night because it interferes with the production of melatonin is right.  So turn off all artificial lights in your bungalow or farmhouse after 7 pm and go all retro by candle light.  Then after you clear the space by  banishment or any other acceptable means, you might want to consider Cbd oil sublingually    I am still investigating this aspect.  I think its pretty undisputed that Cbd will help you sleep, but I'm not sure yet if it interferes with your dreams.  See I have this mantra these days that the whole hemp thing is "not my plant." That it puts a protective barrier between you and reality.  And that other plants or meditation take down the barrier and allow a more direct experience with reality. 

In any event, the important thing is to facilitate dreams and the hypnagogic states right before you dream.  That is where you can meet God.  Except in Costa Rica.  But that is an entirely different story and different plant.

I know that i'm operating with an "n" of one, so take this with a grain of salt, but I feel God will appear in dreams more readily than in real life, or it least that has been my experience.  I mean, seriously, look around, so much fucking suffering--its ubiquitous.   But in the dream world, there is so much more possibility--and perhaps something that endures even after this life ends.  But I digress.

So let's assume that you are in this relaxed state in bed and you start to go inward.  You might have done self reiki before then, and you might not have.  But if you start to pay attention you might be able to start feel the vibrations going on in your body.  These vibrations come before thoughts and words.  Indeed, behind any though or word, like a silent river, are these wonderful vibrations.

Later, at some point, I  might have been asleep or I might not have been (that is the whole point), I felt totally relaxed had this wonderful sensation that I was aligned with universe.  I felt that I was actually living in harmony with the universe and that my vibrations, feelings and thoughts could move me to what was right for me and what was not.  Like I could really trust what I was feeling and could really feel what place other people had in my life without tension, conflict or resistance.  I felt that relationships had nothing to do with sex at this level, that you could have sex with the wrong people for the wrong reasons but now that I could feel what was really aligned for me.  And I was filled with wonderful energy.

And I was in a basement that I had never been in before, but I have been in many basements.  I even lived in one during school, but this was not it.    This one was dirty even by my standards and there may have been mold on the walls.  And it smelled dank.  But it didn't bother me because I was filled with this wonderful energy and felt that I could float and levitate anywhere.  And I floated up the stairs and I saw God there.  And she came up to me and kissed me.  There was no hesitation and  I was taken aback by her directness.  And the kiss was strange.   Its like only our lower lips met and interlocked like a puzzle piece.   We became interlocked for some time and were walking around.

We must have separated because we were then upstairs and talking to Craig Wollman from high school.   I hadn't thought of Craig in years.  I was never close to him.  He used to be a high school athlete who lifted weights and was a lineman on the football team.  I think the most significant interaction that I had with him was the one time one of the debaters on the high school debate team made some very unfortunate remark about the future job prospects of high school football players and I was called in (presumably because I was on both the football team and the debate team) and Craig told me very unceremoniously that the offending debate person must do some penance if he wanted to continue to inhabit this plane of existence.  I'm not sure how that all ended.  I don't remember any deaths, though, so there must have been some sort of penance.

Anyway, this time Craig was not young and muscular, but thin and even shorter than me.  And her was infatuated with God and wanted to speak to her.  Of course, who could blame him, everyone  wants to speak to God, right?

Then I was going around with God and God had this friend, a younger guy with light brown hair.  God said that he was her friend.  So the guy was hanging around us for awhile and I feel like we went places with him and then he left us to go into a store (maybe a pharmacy) to buy something for God.  I remember telling God that he did not go in there for her, but to get something for him.  I don't remember what happened then.  But the guy did not come back.

At some point I was interacting with a large white cat.  The cat had claws everywhere and sharp rotating blades that would come out of its skin to protect its underside.  I don't think I was trying to hurt the cat, but I kept getting sucked in, each time my hand touched her skin a new blade would emerge and pull my hand deeper in.  This continued for awhile and started to get very painful.  Finally, I had the realization that if I wanted to kill the cat, I had to do it all at once.  If I kept probing around for soft spots the blades would eventually get me.  So I had to make one forceful squeeze all at once to squeeze its heart if I wanted to kill it.  But I didn't really want to kill it.  And I don't know why I was interacting with the cat in the first place.  Food for thought.

I think I woke up after that.  Maybe took some CBD oil.  And dreamed about my other high school friend Bill who in the dream owned a brewery.  Or maybe it was his brother.  Neither of them own a brewery in real life, but that is another issue.  There was something about plants.  And how the plants wanted me to work for them in this life.

Maybe I will remember more later.

Spooky New England Town in Central Illinois

I was with Mike M. in the town his parents resided.  Except in real life is parents lived in Chicago after Ireland, and this town was small and old and seemed like it was in New England.

Interesting that Mike M. would show up.  When I first moved to Springfield, he was my best friend.  When I moved to Edwardsville became divorced, our friendship drifted away.  I thought it had to do with his disapproval of my divorce.  Or it could be that he has moved on to a statewide job that involves a lot of time in Chicago.  And frankly, I don't drink beer anymore or hang out in bars, except one wine bar.

 Of course as things inevitably go for me, several days after this dream, I ran into him again at a bar that actually has a brewery in it.  So you can disregard what I just said.  It was in a small town in central Illinois which is just about as New England as it could get around here.   And when I met him, he didn't really want to speak with me.  The energy was wrong.  I am speaking not about the dream now, by the way.  "Real life".  lol.  I'll get back to the dream in a second.  I'm not sure why he is dismissive or uncomfortable around me.  He works in a big Chicago lawfirm doing banking law now.  A lot different than the divorce work he used to do at the small lawfirm.  I'm not sure that has anything to do with it.

What is also interesting is that I went to the annual Bar association dinner as well.  I know most attorneys there.  Even the ones that didn't show up because they died since the last time I went.  Its just not my tribe.  I suppose it used to be my tribe in a big way.   And it mattered.   Now it seems strange.  It probably has something to do with my reaction to Mike M. in real life.  I suppose he is not part of my tribe anymore.

Anyway, back to the dream.   In the town we were going through various houses looking for something connected to what I thought was his family.  I think it also had something to do with mushrooms. We looked for clues trying to find out where his parents lived.  In one of them, I think I found stuff that belonged to me a long time ago.  Old clothes?  And we might have been in a library where we saw books that his parents might have read.  One of them dealt with male castration.  Then a group of people came to the house and we realized that  we were in the wrong house and it was theirs.  I made up some sort of lie about why we were there which they sort of believed but for some reason we didn't leave right away even though we should have.  One of the men grew angry, no necessarily at us, but we might have been connected to it in some way so we escaped out the back and went into a field.  I planned to avoid the house and return the long way back to the town square to meet my friends.  I took the long way around so that the angry man could not see me leaving.

Of course, there were mushrooms involved in the spooky New England town in Central Illinois in real life.  But I still haven't run into the angry man yet, or felt myself trespassing in someone else's house.  So I have that to look forward to.

In the Shop of Alchemy, hangs a Plaque honoring Dark Star Orchestra. Whatever that means.

I was traveling in a back road in Illinois between St. Louis and Springfield.  It seems like I was in Pana for some reason.  I was with several women; and maybe a child?  Anyway, we saw an old sign on the side of the road which resembled an old drug store or apothecary sign, but this sign said "Alchemy" which was surprising--so we decided to investigate.

Surprising the "Open" sign was lit on the building even though I had the sense that the store should not have been open for some reason.  We walked in and the store was actually a small house with stairs going up.  It was very small and cramped.  It looked like the inside of a trailer.   There was cheap shag carpeting and sofas.  The rooms were brightly colored, maybe in an off white color, but they appeared to the old and somewhat run down.    In the house was a family and they initially welcomed us and gave us welcome boxes with various items.  I don't remember what was in them but I was going through them and it seemed like it was taking me a long time to unwrap everything.  I think at some point my friends left and I had the sense that I was overstaying my welcome but I was still unwrapping the gifts.  I had the sense that they had given me something and I should reciprocate or buy something there but I wasn't sure what was for sale.

On some of the walls partially concealed (or at least not in clear view) was a plaque.  The plaque was honoring a man named "Dan Smalley" who I felt was connected with the shop.  The plaque mentioned that something he did in conjunction with the rock band "Dark Star Orchestra" had raised several thousands of dollars for some charity.

Before this dream, I was involved in another dream in that I was involved in some sort of chase.  I was being chased, but it was also a form of competition.  I remember having the power to float but it wasn't that effective and I had cost some man his job (perhaps a coach?).  The man was upset with me and was physically attacking me.  Then some other coach intervened and protected me.  He also seemed upset with me, but he did not was the other man to hurt me.

At some point, I had consolidated my power and could float more effectively.  I was with a woman and wanted to grab her and escape up.  I could now go everywhere.  But she was afraid and did not go with me. 

I WANNA BE ALONE

I wanna be alone.

For once.

There is so much to go into and explore. I had no idea that you could slow everything down.  Like so many conscious intentions become manifest.

My god, the different energy levels.  And I like to swirl them around, like the circular motion I do with my finger these days for everything.

And when you slow down the breath, way down, I go places, so peaceful, so full of light and hope.

Even the dark places are interesting.  Like some vast underworld.  Like this whole universe is one dark cavern.

I wanna be alone.

For once.

Deep deeper deepest.

Oleander Breath with Turkey Tails

I want to be the baba in your ganoush

the guac in your mole

the spring in your roll

the egg in your plant,

the seed in your linseed,

the crack that lets the light in

the non in your sequitur

the bourbon in your aged barrel

and the cask in your amontillado

Further, I want to be all opportunistic in your organism,

or in your prairie grass

or the red foot in your snapping newt that neither is red nor snaps at your feet.

I want to take your breath away, without watching that piece of shit top gun movie where the actress looks so old now

I want to be all Tom Cruise with your Nicole Kidman, before they both got too fucking weird

I want to be the 2001 in your space odyssey,  the Hal in your singularity,  and the probe in your event horizon.

In short, I want to be the science in your Scientology, without all that fake religion, and if that doesn't work, I want to fantasize that when you would theoretically scream out L.Ron, L.Ron, L. Ron, you are really thinking about me,

for what Confucius says, is really about me and you, and you and me, in one giant gooey Tao Te Ching, that smells like Oleander, and tastes like Paw Paws, that was eaten long ago, in another life time, by us both

The Spirit of the Plant

Take away everything that I have ever said about Ayahuasca not having a spirit.  That it is all in my mind.  That is never speaks to me.  I finally got the message.  You'd think that I would have understood this after my other little crazy adventures.  But now I get it.

There is a spirit.  Where it takes me is not of my own background.  And if if it takes me to some part of my collective unconscious, so be it.  Whatever the space it takes me to, it is not mine.  It never was.  But I was there before, before I was born or in some past life.   And I will be there again.

The spirit spoke softly to me initially.  At Costa Rica, the first thing that it said was "do you really want to do this."  And I don't think I really responded.   I certain didn't understand what I was being asked.

So having not received the message of what was at stake, it kept re-framing the question.  On basically what amounted to a microdose of the medicine, it took me to an all familiar place.  "See Mike, this is the real ceremony.  This moment.  You have been here before through time immemorial.  And these people or things leading the ceremony, are dispassionate.  And they are are ancient and vaguely Mayan, as much as they are alien.    There is no love here.  There is no welcoming.  This is what you do.  This is like the way-station.  You come here and are reborn.  This is what you have done.  What  you see and experience here is what you have seen and experienced before."

And then the break occurs.  I lose awareness of where I am and who I am.  In this world, I do not remember what happens in that world.  I do not remember it now.  I really wish I did.  Maybe that is the key.  What I do remember when I am in that world, is something is horribly wrong.   I tell the woman who drove me to the ceremony, "I did not know that you accompany me on these journeys."  And that is a true statement when I make it.  Because I have become someone else.  And the rules are different.  I continue to her nevertheless:  "I want to go back to my old life and the farmhouse.  I do not want to be here.  I do not want to ever do this again."

And then it repeats.  You cry out for a woman, a different woman each time who will not come.  Of course.  For the cries in medicine space are never heard in this space, even by law enforcement (lol).

And the shaman sings icaros in you ear.  A good shaman this time.  And still you think he is evil.  And the icaros are trying to tranquilize you.

And you try to be born against the evil things holding you back.   And of course, by now, they are literally and figuratively holding you back. And of course, like before, you think they are evil.    Where before, you wanted to be the one sperm that lives to fertilize the egg,  now you want to be the one plant that survives the endless competition of nature, to be with her an reproduce.   Its all about biology right?  The survival of the fittest  Where would you get that idea at these days?  lol    And you feel that this struggle is familiar,  and you want to get further than you did last time.  Even if you again can't make it this time.  And that is why you cling to the underneath of the car so that they cannot carry you back to the ceremony room.  And that is why you refuse water because that will drug you and make you weak like alcohol, just like before.   And you strip off your clothes because they are vestiges of garments of this world that will hold you back.  Yes, my friend, you really did that. 

And of course, there is no voice inside you reminding you of where you are actually at, and who the demons actually are.  And no voice just telling you to surrender and let this be, to go into it.  For this is all part of the journey, right?

And of course, the container of the ceremony is all wrong.  It does not contain me.  I must want to go back to that ceremony of my own volition.  If you try and drag me back, I will think you are evil and resist.  It would be nice to break out of that cycle.

And I suppose that is the carrot left dangling ahead of me.  That I can learn to surrender to the medicine ceremony.  And be reborn.  But something in this life won't let me.  Even my intention to surrender going in is vetoed in a big way.  Until I resolve to let go completely of this life, to sacrifice everything, to be reborn, I will not take another run at it.   That is the spirit of the plant speaking to me.   But I don't want that cold dispassionate ceremony where there is no love, no compassion, no understanding.  And I imagine this is why the religions  based on love developed in response to this realization.  Religions of love developed to bring hope and faith.  And with them, humanity attempted to escape the realization of our destiny.

And then my new friend Grizz tells me of his similar story, and how he learned to surrender.  And I wish there would have been something in me at that time, some voice comforting me.  But there was nothing.  Just a tenacious ego clinging to its dear life.

And he tells me that this is the hero's journey.

And I imagine a ceremony with on all kinds of messages scattered all over the place reminding me that this is not real.  That I came here to surrender.  And I see myself completing the journey.  But I wonder how is this possible, when I lose my volition, and what emerges is as wild and untamed as a frightened animal fighting for survival.

And the shaman asks we afterwards if I have vivid dreams.  And of course, I do.  The veil between the spirit world and this world is thin for me.  And maybe the wild untamed me will come to me in this world, and I can surrender to it and work with it, without diving back into the medicine space.

I don't know my friend.  I am without answers.  Only questions.

We Are All Children of the Light/Golden Teacher Ch. 1

Never forget through all the confusion, through all the tossing and turning, through all the thickets and brambles that we are children of light.  Even in our darkest hour, I was looking for the light; we are looking for the light.

The sunlight is the source of our life.  Without that light there would be no life.  We are children of that light.  That is what we cannot forget.  Play with that light, it's all good my friend.  Bring that light to everyone that you encounter.  That is the Golden Teacher.  Ha ha ha.

My Golden Teachers are showing me all sorts of interesting stuff.

First it gave me the choice of whether I wanted to experience it.   The scary stuff.   And I said yes.  And then I asked to trust my intuition.    They are showing me how to work with my pain and how it is this pain that is holding me back.  The pain that is in my body in so many places, in my shoulders, structures.  It was showing me my skeleton and saying that I could go into it and then go out of it.  How to work with it.  Even the scary nursery rhyme that comes up in this space, it surrounded in a ball of energy and put it in a deep cavern that was then proving me warmth.  Its letting me experience it as warmth.  What a wonderful protective device.

The nursery rhyme I experienced was a fear of infinity.  Some of the words were mathematical, concepts of unbelievably large numbers.  Its letting me go into it and put words on it.

It is being so much more gentle with me and showing me how to work with the scary stuff.  Go into it, and then go out of it, like coming up for air.  Its giving me distance from the scary stuff.

And its letting me shake.  So much of this is fear in my body I can feel it and shake with it.  Its not in my mind, its in my body.

And I am comforting my father, my arms on his body because his fear is my fear and my fear is his fear.  There is just so much of it and I'm in this aquarium now and its dark.  Its trying to show me something.

Its giving me the choice to rewire my brain, to experience the warmth and the heat.  And the love.  And the R.  lol

You go to the realm of the dark places and you feel them envelop you like a seed under the earth.  Remember that you are a child of the light.  And the sin is forgetfulness.  And that's why so many things have been written down in bibles so that we would not forget.  And that's why like a joke people forget and then have to relearn everything.  But we are children of the light.  We are children of the sun.  And we shine love and light on one another.

That is what God is, the (work, worth?) of the sunlight reflected in other people. That is why we congregate.  That is why we can feel the warmth and excitement of the other.  Enjoy it, all of that is the sunlight.

And those that are without the sun, sadness.   I have seen that the energy of M is the negative energy and you know and I know and everyone knows that we have to break free and go the other side.

And its telling me to trust the R, and love the R.  And like a joke, we laugh at whether I should contact the R in this space.  But you know, and I know, and they know that that is never a good idea.

Wake Up Mike

More and more I find myself feeling the same sensation that I am being cheered on from a group of friends from above to push through and wake up into something radically different.  But I'm being held back by a layer of energy, or suffering, or inertia and my "friends" seem to understand the arduousness of the process.

And part of the barrier is the fear that this is all madness creeping in. That and that this something "radically different" involves a sort of death of sorts, or at least the loss of what I am still attached to in this world.  And that its just plain fucking strange and lonely in a way to be so out of sync with the rest of humanity that is operating under a different program.

 And I get this idea that we do this over and over again until we get it right (if we ever do), like some form of karma we cannot understand or comprehend.

So the last couple of times during the day when the thought erupted, I asked for help.  Because if there isn't anything to help us get through the barrier, its probably not worth going through anyway.  That, and I am just humbled by the enormity of it all.  And I don't really know who or what can offer help, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to ask.  All they can do is say no, or remain silent.

And of  course, this is what I keep experiencing in an Ayahuasca ceremony, finding its way into my normal life like underlying program I still haven't come to terms with.  And it keeps asking me, Mike, do you really want to do this? And I'm starting to say, Yes, I really do.  I really want to look behind the curtain.  But I need help.

Mid-Flight Engine Trouble Between Montrose and Denver

After the Mugwort tea was consumed, I invoked the intention that I full realize my psychic abilities and intuitions to harmonize myself with the universe.  Of course, this happened at 4 am, and it may have been somewhat different.  I've been listening to a lot of Noah Lampert lately, especially since he was on the podcast.  My intention may have also had something to do with bringing the mystical awareness of the 4th night of Rythmia into my space.

After I grounded my body outside and urinated, I went back into an relished the dream time, and soon I entered the space:

I was in some sort of dating event.  It was outside in some sort of crowded tent.  I didn't see anyone I was particularly interested in.  But I was late, so I didn't have a choice and I was matched with a woman in the corner who was not attractive.  As I looked at her more carefully, I liked her eyes, but she was old.  And it some way, she kind of looked like a short haired version of Ash's friend Am, who I know to be on dating sites in real life even though she is married.  But that is in waking life, and not really relevant here.  Or is it?  lol

But I did not talk to this woman long (or at all), because then there was some sort of disruption.  We were either under attack, had to leave or both.  The whole tent complex was mobile.  We might have been on a huge bus.  We were traveling around a prairie that looked in retrospect like the area in Casper, Wyoming between our house and Casper Mountain.

Then we were definitely under attack.  By a large group of males.  Things were hopeless.  We were completely trapped.  They were raping us and doing other horrible things.  I'm not exactly sure how we escaped, but it had something to with my continually trying to escape.  And it had something to do that I had mushrooms with me, and eventually either powerful females intervened, or I had escaped to a land controlled by the females.  And the females liked the mushrooms, or they had intervened because I had some.  Not sure.  I'm sure there was more to the story, but I had to do a phone deposition this morning, and maybe more will be recovered tonight.

The Infinite and the Bi-Polar

There was something about being in my old law firm and hiding that article that I ghost penned in the Journal of Humanistic Psychiatry about a Jungian Interpretation of an Ayahuasca adventure.  But this was at 2 am, and at this point the dream imagery was mostly feeling as opposed to symbols or meaning.

After awakening, I indulged in a little Random Rab, urinated outside, checked out a wondering possum, had a few squirts of Mulugu bark, and took in the some of the aromas of Mugwort while I performed the lesser banishing and invoking rituals.  Then I was back to the races.  I took me a bit to get back in, but then...

I was running and running.  There was a criminal running.  He was running and breaking the law with  abandon in all sorts of ways that I don't really remember.   He was in prison strung up to the wall with his hands outstretched like a cross.  He was taken down by my old high school friend Chuck Abrahamson.  Then he escaped as was back to running.  Along the way, he/I started talking to a woman.  We saw a dead body on the ground, a blonde female.  She looked familiar, and the woman who was with us told me that we had killed her.  I didn't remember doing that but I'm sure it happened.  I became sick.  Then we were joined by a man.  And he and the woman joined voices inside my head.  The woman in my head told me I was bipolar.  Then the male told me that I must learn to work with it because I was infinite.

Then the scene transformed.  I was with the criminal again, but he was in a a summer sport coat.  With a beautiful woman.  Come to think of it, he was always surrounded by women.  And the man looked different.  Like something out of a GQ magazine.  And he and the woman were going to some sporting even.  And I was left with the impression that he was worldly and successful.

Its Time to Take off Those Silly Masks

Sometime long ago, your childhood disappeared before it started.   That is what you say anyway.

Something about your father didn't love your mother, he was in love with someone else, had a kid by them, and somehow ended up with your mother.  And that's how you came along, the product of a loveless marriage.

Then the story goes that your mother put all her hopes and dreams in you.  Wouldn't let you breathe.  And I can see how there is a germ of truth in that.  You mother is more concerned about how something looks to others, than what it means to herself or her family.  A tortured prisoner to be sure.  It would have been interesting to see that glint in your eyes when you rebelled against her before you put the mask back on.

But here is where it gets interesting.  For in your mind, you were put in the unenviable position as a child of protecting your mother from the wrath of your father.   And each one of your parents would blame you for taking sides in their marital conflict.  An erstwhile childhood mediator in a dispute well beyond her years.

But see I'm into seeing things in their opposites these days.  Or at least exploring them.  And in my mind the self styled "helpless" victim is  really exerting a degree of control over the situation--whether she wants to admit it or not.   Even if we pay close attention to your own narrative, you were in control.  You "never had a childhood"=you were an adult.  You were the "unwilling mediator" or "protector"=the puppet master controlling the strings.   Let's further assume that you were more than
the intellectual equal of the combined force of your parents.  And your parents were, after all, weak, shallow and petty compared to the you.  Surely, a highly intelligent child could step in to get what she wants, sort of anyway.

But then comes the tricky part, and I may be wrong about this, but here is my intuition,  what happens if the fantasy that every child has of controlling the ostensibly older and more powerful parents becomes true and manifested in reality?  The child could be afraid of the power, and abdicate the throne, so to speak.   Or something more oblique perhaps.  For the other part of your narrative, that you repeat like a mantra is that you never absolutely never never never under any circumstances do anything for yourself.  I'm exaggerating here, but I have poetic licence and this is my blog, so there.  You are only happy when you do things for other people and are incapable of finding happiness in doing anything for yourself.   Blah blah blah. 

Now Mother Teresa may have lived that mantra, but she never would have said that.  By saying it, it becomes something different.   You are either Mother Teresa or you are not.  But in my world if you say you are selfless, you are something else.  I'll leave that for you to decide what that something else is.

Had I wanted someone who told me all the time that she cared for me and how she was happy only doing things for other people, I would have asked.  I really would have.  But I really wanted something different.  And its time to take off those silly masks anyway.

Josie and her Mom

When time ceases to exist, moments which we think of as having occurred separately are part of the same continuum.  So if I saw Josie Lowder playing guitar and singing eight years ago at a festival or a bar and I see her now, the same energetic force or spirit is running through it.

That spirit is the interesting part.  For when we die, my intuition is that we become that spirit, for we really have never left it.  And everything else that we thought was real is only a strange echo.

So when I saw Josie and her mother singing on June 8, 2019,  I saw the same song playing through time.   And yes they are aging together, we are all aging together, but the spirit is immutable and ineffable.  It was with them before they were born.  And it will continue with them and me into the afterlife.

And more and more I find myself seeing this spirit.  And how it pervades and moves thorough the material world like the mysterious song underlying everything.

A Book. A Chapter (One) (In Progress)

I already am the universe.  I am not separate from it.  This comes as an immense relief.  For we are not alone.  We never were, we never can be.  And when we have a cross to bear, a Sisyphean boulder to push up a hill, or a Procrustean bed to sleep in, it is not ours alone.  But belongs to everyone and everything.

And in this place we find our self, there is no light and no darkness.  There is only the endless perfection of the universe.  A perfection that we are part of if we open up to it, receive and surrender to it.

And in this place we find ourself there is no separation.   And what we think of as separation is part of the eternal becoming.   In this way, if we feel there is a wall or a force between us and the universe, it is part of the endless contraction. 

In this way, the perceived barrier is much like the barrier between an infant an its birth canal--pushing through into the light.  And yes, we are always in the birth canal.  Because, yes, we are in a constant state of being born, and contracting.  And we always have and we always will be, even when we finally contract in the so called death and wait for the next wave of expansion to carry us forward in this so call life.

What is it like to surrender?  You already know the answer.  You have been there before, many times, when there is no space, time or distance.  The source of words and concepts drop away and you flow down the stream.

Gainesville: What was the Information You Gleaned?--To My Favorite Integration Therapist

1.  When the shit hits the fan and it gets to that bad place, I question why I do this in the first place.  I resist.  I don't really want what it is showing me.  When I'm back in ego reality, I understand the importance of going in to the uncomfortable places, but I don't really remember that when I'm in medicine space.  I think it would help if I had someone I trusted guiding the process and comforting me that it is ok and reminding me to go into it.  However, I am concerned that I would not trust them and believe that they are the problem when I get there again.

2.  The medicine space is unbelievably energetic.  I know you are supposed to sit still and go into it, but I remember trying that, being the buddha when I was on my flight in the forest.  It didn't seem to get me anywhere.   I feel called to movement and flight.

3.  When I was in medicine space in Gainesville, it was as if a new ego structure took over that was following a logic and coherency of its own.  I can remember it to some extent.  It seemed to remember who I was, where I was, and was actually thinking rationally if the paradigm was that the people around you were preventing you from reaching some form of salvation and you must struggle to get away from them because they are keeping you in a realm of suffering.  The logic continued that the universe was trying to give me clues to put together to get out of the realm of suffering.  e.g. follow the light, go to places the other creatures could not restrain you in the realm of suffering, look for clues, look for help.  I wonder if this ego is some sort of underlying personality I have that is really functioning at some level beneath my day to day ego.  In may ways, this underlying ego also came forth in Costa Rica, but in Florida it seemed to have much more coherency.

4.  What I especially resisted initially in the ceremony was the experience that the ceremony was the real reality, and over and over again throughout time and space I would return to the ceremony and be destroyed to give birth to the new reality.  I didn't want that to be the setup.  I wanted reality to be something different than that.  I did not accept it.  So I resisted.

5.  At the deepest level, I do not have an intention for the practice.  At some level, I am lonely.  And resistant to the boredom of solitary life.  The ceremony is a way to bypass and run from the mundane life.  In this way, the ego structure of #3 above is doing the same thing with my current reality as when it is encountering medicine space.  I am running from myself to find the others, or something other an myself.  This whole ceremony culture is just another form of spiritual bypass.  For some reason, I am not enough without something else going on.

6.  During the climax of Gainesville when the medicine hit its peak and I was in the forest, I thought I was dead and in some form of afterlife.  An endless afterlife of suffering.  Without any relief.  

7.  My brain in someways still feels like it is in medicine space.  Like some synapses are still firing.  I also feel in someways that my brain has been rewired so that I don't feel certain things anymore.  Like I'm still on a horse.  Like I'm channeling some inner power that doesn't really care about what it had before.    Like I don't really care anymore that some people (e.g. M) are not in my life anymore.   I didn't really leave her for any rational reason, but the horse carried me away.   But I do care that other people (e.g. M & M) are in my life and there even deeper.  

8.  At some level the horse is a reminder that I have the choice to step into my own energy.  Or move away from it.  Like I'm surrounded by negative energy holding me down.  But by force of practice, I can clear the negative energy and step into a new powerful energy that will allow me to do anything.   In some ways, this is similar to the underlying ego of #3.

9.  I'm not sure whether the horse is going to take me to Ava this weekend to hang out with Matt and Sun-star.  It will be a game-day decision.  It always is. 

10.  1-9 are total BS by the way.  You have to power to create what you want your relationship to reality to be.  The rest is just bypassing.  Get on your horse and step into your power.

A Culturally Appropriated Soundtrack for a Further Culturally Appropriated Experience

In other words, when I become a shaman, heaven forbid, this is the soundtrack for my ceremony:

1.  In the Dark--Billy Squier.  Are you kidding me?  If this isn't the most apropris song ever for an Ayahuasca Ceremony, I'll be totally fucked and bent over puking.  Check out the lyrics, yo!:

https://genius.com/Billy-squier-in-the-dark-lyrics


2.  Hide in Your Shell--Supertramp.  A little more uplifting, but hell, isn't that why you are in this space to begin with?

3.  Double Life--The Cars.  Ok, a little different, but when you idle at the stop light you better have the signal right.  This goes out to all you crazy fucks that do this on a Saturday night and then go into work on Monday morning without missing a beat.  And you my friend, know exactly who we are talking about.

4.  Saved by Zero--The Fixx.  This call was a little bit controversial because maybe its a tad too obvious.  Still, for all of you trying to remember you buddha nature while everything else is going to hell in a hand-basket, we offer this paradoxical koan for your enjoyment.

5.  Reap the Wild Wind--UltraVox.  Take my hand, and take it all my friend.  I'll pull you right the fuck out of those dark places.

6.  My Secret Garden--Depeche Mode.  Its not so secret anymore.  Now you get to share it with everyone around you.  Whether you want to or not.

7.  Unsatisfied--The Replacements.  Thankfully this is a short one.  This will remind you why you did this in the first place.

8.  Gates of Steel--Devo.  Twist away, now twist and show.  If you dare that is....

9.  Magic--Olivia Newton John.  Destiny begins to arise as you begin to exit medicine space. 

10.  Naive Melody--Talking Heads.  You made it.  Don't you just love everybody and everything around you right now? 

The Slightly Forced Smile of the Slightly Sad Peter Pan

When I look at your eyes from the mirror I see my own.

The telltale signs:  the slightly forced smile from the slightly sad Peter Pan.  And don't get me wrong, there is only a modicum of effort required to generate that small uptake of the lips to transform the neutral expression to a smile. Even when no one is looking the mirror keeps reflecting a smile.  Which is good right? Can't have Mr. Poutyface around here now can we?

So lets pretend no one is looking.  Not me, not you, then what is the expression? 

Which is kind of a strange thing to do (go figure) because usually I think there is someone between me and the rest of what goes on around me.

Kinda like a friend.  But kinda not like a friend.

And I think at one time, he (or she) used to be a part of me, but we sorta got separated some time long ago into two people, or things, or mirrors--its kinda confusing.

 And after we became separated, he (or she) started running the show in some ways. Like he (or she) gives me all sorts of ideas about doing this or trying that or trying to do that or framing how I think about this or that.  Which is like sort of a drag because most of the time this guy or gal is getting it all wrong.  But as I'm still kinda new at the whole getting it right or getting it wrong thing--so I'm not sure.

 So I do this little dance sometimes.  I hypmotize myself.   And when I am hypmotized this little friend gets disoriented and goes away.   Or passes out.   And I know at some level that hypmotizing yourself may not be the most skillful thing to do. I should be like all lovey and touchy and squeezey and all like here friend, let me hold you and figure out why you get it all wrong.   And I'm working to that.  I really am.  Well, sometimes I really am anyway.

But Peter Pan can fly.  And Peter Pan can ride a horse.  At least in my universe he can.  So maybe if I just take off someday I will leave my little friend in the dust.  And then I will be all free and receptive to the universe.

And all alone.  (exert modicum of effort here for the smile bit):-).  But if I get to that place, maybe I will find that expression of my true face before my parents were born.  Maybe that's why I like looking at you from the mirror.

Hamburgers by Proxy

So I sit across from you at the small table next to the wood fire grill which roasts the flat little cheesy wheat things with mushrooms that wilt over before you shove them into your mouth and I say "do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

And of course, that question is a mere formality, because who doesn't want to get asked a personal question?  Anybody with a heart anyway.  Or at least a modicum of curiosity.  So there must have been a nod, or a "yes" or some sort of wink or tacit acquiescence  because I continued....

"Blah blah blah, I say, everybody is on the spectrum to some degree blah blah blah, even me probably blah blah blah, but you ...you are you also well...well...are you on the spectrum?

And of course you aren't making eye contact at that point.  That is the whole point of the question.  That is Exhibit A.  And Exhibit B your honor is that that smiling glowing expression you make (which of course is adorable) the one where you clench your teeth and your eyes light up,  but that face even though it is ostensibly responding to me is not really directed at me, but to the imaginary person sitting next to me, or at my side, you know.  That is how I know you are responding to some sort of uncomfortable question.

"Yes," you say, blah blah blah have you heard of hamburgers by proxy?  Blah blah blah its where my brain can't make blah blah blah and I do blah blah blah and there is this gap blah blah blah blah.

And of course, when you are telling me this, I'm thinking who the frick put you into some sort of limiting pigeon hole telling you that your brain could or could not do something?  I mean really, I really want to have some sort of convo with them, and I don't care if they have some sort of initials like Ph.D or M.D. after their name, because what they have never learned in their little books is that the universe if vast and wide.  Incredibly vast and wide. And bulbous.   And anyone who tells you that you don't communicate this or that really has not seen the real glow of your aura functioning in the world.

And like that dog that sees something interesting but can't quite process it yet, I tilt my head to one side and want to tell you something like the real informational content exchanged between people is non-verbal, and I can hear you loud and clear and in the mystical space I inhabit where the energy of unit A (that being you) is transferred without any attenuation to unit B (that being me).  And moreover, your aura is absolutely blinding me in this room.   But what comes out is "I get you blah blah blah blah blah blah."

Which reminds me, while I completely engage in a non sequitur here (which is Exhibit C for both of us, your honor), there is this very small and yellow house outside of town.  I saw it late at night in one of my myriad dreams.   In fact this house is so small, maybe we should just call it a closet, that all you can do inside is lay down or bend your head so you don't hit the ceiling.  In other words, its just for sleeping and little else.  But in my mind this house on the outside is yellow and painted with neat white trim and is obviously well cared for.  But you were afraid of this house.  And did not want to talk about it.  So I won't.  I'm not sure what there is about this house that is scary.  But I'm fine for letting the house be.

In some ways, the house doesn't suit me either.  But if my friend Matt finds a nice little facility in Peru to explore the universe, one quantum entanglement at a time, I would like to spend time there in a tiny house down there with you.   And we could find out once and for all, what the source of that bright aura is.

My Responsibility

Love the stream that gushes from you.  Its not the medicine that was harsh to you, it was you my friend, all along.  Even this voice talking to you right now is you.  Isn't it wonderful.  Forgive, love, heal, accept everything.  Even the bad parts.  Even the really bad parts.  The universe is really you--you are it, baby.

And when you step into the spiritual realm, you don't change.  You only see your archetypes in full blown majesty.  And if you were lost in drama before, you will see it all more vividly, more painfully, that in your straight life.  And if you are running from things in life, don't expect any different in the medicine realm.

Just be kind.  Be easy.  Be patients.  Use lots of cilantro.   Think of your love for your daughters.   And go into it.  All if it.

Now that you have found an additional teacher, indigenous to your domain so to speak, bring this intention to encounters with it.  Or you can simply ride your horse.......

Planet Money Meets the Mayan Goddess

I love you because you are seriously funny and have created a wonderful playground.  Come outside, I'm over there on the swing.

The other story:

I was outside of a house that seemed like it was near a beach.  The house had two stories and was sort of arranged like a flat home in a row of other similar houses.  I entered the house through what seemed like a garage door at the ground level.  I felt Marina's presence in the house like it was hers, but i knew that I was alone.   I then became disoriented.  On the top floor the window was open and I had turned the Planet Money podcast very loud.  It was so loud that I thought it would bother the neighbors.  My disorientation increased such that I had amnesia, I couldn't remember what I was doing.  I wondered if I was going senile.  But then some sort of emergence occurred and I was out of my body and down next to a garden that had a large lake attached to it.  I watched an older man communicate with a Mayan witch goddess that had emerged out of the water.  I didn't quit know what to make of the scene.  At some level, I was the old man, and I was also an observer.  I also had ambivalence about the Mayan Goddess who was at once threatening and intriguing.  The Goddess kept telling the man/me to submit to her and she kept repeating her name which was long and complicated and that I do not now remember it.

At some point however, the old man seemed to understand something and a youthful soul emerged out of his body.  The youthful soul which was like a transparent man in his 20s went down into the lake and embraced and held the Mayan Goddess.  As they held each other and frolicked in the water, the lake opened up into an inland shore and stretched out into the sunset.

Gainesville

Ego dissolution is very mysterious and unexpected.  I did not recognize it for what it is.  Or did I?  That is the ambiguity.  Sure, in the comfort of a week removed from the experience, it is easy for me now to say that I was experiencing ego dissolution under the influence of ayahuasca.  But at the time, it was different.  It was real.  And the stakes seemed higher.  It gave me experience that the reality of the ceremony was the real reality, and my so called life up to then was not what was real.  And over an over again, throughout eternity perhaps, like a moth to the flame I would be drawn to this ceremony, and consumed.

I'm not sure that now is the time for any understanding, only feeling.  The energy of the night is still within me, working its way in many directions, coming out in my dreams.

The ceremony took place in a teepee, next to a lake.  The teepee was located on the bottom of a hill.  At the top of the hill (as I dreamed before the ceremony) was a white house.  And like in my dream, my spirit would leave my body as I approached the house.  I would float.  And the voice said that the dance would begin.  And it sure did.  But I'll get to that...:-)

I had never reacted to ayahuasca as fast and as sudden as this.  It was not gradual.  All at once was the overwhelming realization that it was all happening again. 

"This has all happened before."  Now I  remember it.  I am being called to submit to the rape which will end everything and start reality again.  Everything I have know or loved up to now will be gone--it was all leading up to this over and over.  My daughters.  This strange county of Trump.  Moreover, there was a sense that this was what was real, my past life was an illusion.  In other words, what goes on at these ceremonies is at a higher form of reality than my other life.  The ceremony is what is really going on at a much deeper level.  

What I felt was that the ceremony that was happening in Gainesville had happened before at Rhythmia in Costa Rica.  The same thing.  Only between Costa Rica and Gainesville I had forgotten about it.  Now that I remembered, I was afraid that this was what was real all along.  But so much more happens in these ceremonies than what I remembered.  Now it came back to me, the terrifying strangeness.   I was once again in some strange temple with Jerry (founder at Rhythmia) and we were talking about it, he was telling me something but in words that did not make sense until like a rhyme the rhyme became intelligible in baby talk if you kept repeating rhyme.   But what he was telling me was horrible and connected in some way to the rape that would end everything.  Or at least something that I did not want to accept.  He kept repeating it and seemed happy that I had finally understood the rhyme when I nodded my head.  What he was telling me was something about a rape and confused sexual identity on my part where I would go from a male to a female so that I could somehow birth some new reality into existence that would also destroy everything. 

It seemed that something that happened at Rhythmia was also a part of some ceremony that was not connected with the actual ayahuasca ceremony.   In other words, the ceremony at Rhythmia took place in a ceremonial hall with about 30 other participants.  But what was going on with Jerry and I that night was not there, but in some other place.  We were alone with Dr. Jeff.   But that could not have occurred.  I did not leave the ceremonial hall.    But when I remembered it that night in Gainesville, it seemed like the actual ceremony occurred someplace else that I had forgotten about.  That was also the scary part.

And I left the teepee after telling Teresa, poor Teresa who stuck with me though the adventure as much as she could that "this has happened before."  And I laid down on the grass did not want to let it slip away.  Did not want my previous reality to go away, did not want my daughters to go away, did not want my past life to disappear.   And when they told me I needed to get back in the tent, that did not seem like the good option.  That would take me back in to Jerry or whatever.   The energy was too strong inside.  So I set off up the hill.  And it almost seemed that this was part of the cycle.  I was replaying some story.   But I had been here before and I was more resolved   The story was that these people around me were not to be trusted.  And that I should not talk to them or give them information.  But I also felt I was remembering more now that what I had before in Costa Rica.   

I was resolute.   I was trying to figure out signs of what I should do next and looked for clues. Were  the people around me evil and did they keep me from the light and salvation?     I looked for confirmation of their sinister intentions and found them. I felt them grab me and take my cell phone and keys away. I saw brown coming out of the shamans mouth (either ayahuasca or Mapacho) and was looking for signs of a snake tongue as well.  And she was upset with me.  Or at least I felt she was.   I had done this before. But this is  long process that I can never give up.  I had been here before, done this.  It seemed familiar.   To escape the evil creatures.  I broke a window trying to get away.  I jumped over a rail inside the house and ran outside to get away from them.   And when I escaped and kept escaping from them I felt I was headed in the right direction when I jumped fences and they could not follow.  Because the evil creatures could not follow me I felt I was only holy ground that they could not come on.  I was looking for help.  I was also dimly aware I was in Florida and could not get Marina.  But because they could not follow me I felt I was headed in the right direction. I kept following the light, any light, thinking it was some sort of symbol or beacon.

So I knocked on the doors of the houses but thankfully there was no answer.  I searched though cars and found water bottles which I drank but then remembered my prior journey where water was like alcohol and would slow me down. I searched barns and trailers and heard a horse out in the forest. I went up to the horse and stroked its  mane and asked what it was here for?  Are you here to take me somewhere?  After several failed attempts I climbed on its back. It carried me through the forest until I slipped off.

  Then came a harrowing journey through the forest and nettles (bushes) in various states of altered reality. I will not be able to articulate this part in a coherent way, reality was deconstructed completely and re-fabricated and I felt that this journey would last for infinity unless I kept up the struggle.   This is what reality is:     Endless repetition.  Moreover, I felt during certain times in the evening that this was the afterlife, I was already dead and this was an eternity of endless repetition and suffering.   Then I came back to one of the houses and again realized I was not getting anywhere.  I had been here before. Then I came to a garden and purged.  Then I laid on the side of a hill and felt this was the day.  My death journey. But I kept trying to find comfort.  I was cold and exhausted.   I did not know if I should just die or keep up the futile struggle.  I laid down and buried my hands in the soft earth.  I probably dozed off for a time.

When I awoke the cycle repeated again.  The houses, the cars, I talked to the horse again.  I took a guidebook of Scotland either from inside one of the cars or it was on the hood.  I also found a lighter at one time which I attempted to start a fire at one time but felt that that would not be a good idea.  I eventually returned these.

After some time, I found a road in front of me, and it was illuminated (perhaps).  In any event, I felt that it was the road I should follow.  Along the way, I realized this road was taking me back to the evil creatures.  But somehow the evil creatures were part of my reality which I did not want to give up, the reality which contained my daughters. I must come to terms with them.

So I returned to the ceremony space and went back down the hill.   At the bottom, I saw Allen purging, standing up.  At the fire, Gigi was laying down but sat up when she saw me and said "You know I love you."  To which I replied, "I love you."  And I lay down on the fire next to her for while, until I sat up and told her, "I must go tell them (Teresa, Lara, Jyana etc.) that I am sorry."  She seemed to understand and nodded.  That is what I did.

Even the next day I felt that I could not tell them about Scotland or my friend in Scotland who I had done a podcast with.  I felt that I must get a message to him in secret. So I sent him an email.  When I did tell them about Scotland I feared that I had betrayed him.  Something like the "Invisibles" graphic novels where there are guardians of truth combating interstellar parasites.

It had been a long day.  And to think it started with a phone deposition in a park in Keystone Heights near another lake.

I love you all.  It is all we are here for.   Nothing else.

Gainesville: Epilogue Part 2: The Dreams

I was riding some sort of German staff car vehicle in North Africa. I was in the German army and there were many soldiers riding with me and walking outside of the car.  I was dressed in a black Nazi uniform and I was looking at all my decorations.  Still I had the feeling that this wasn't me.  But I also had the feeling I was in some sort of secret service within the German army.  I was looking to see if I had the death head insignia of the SS or Gestapo on my uniform, but I was not associated with these outfits.  I was in some other more mysterious branch. Whatever branch it was must have been important because the other soldier around me were giving me much deferential treatment.  I was clearly honored or special.

We had won some sort of battle and had caused the American's to retreat.  We were now going over the spoils of war--all the equipment they had left us while they retreated.  The other soldiers were going through many boxes.  It appeared that everything was fine but one of our dogs started barking and attacking something in one of the boxes that the Americans had left.  We all looked at the dog and saw to our surprise that it was fighting with some sort of ever growing black cobra snake.   The snake became large and we realized that the dog would never be able to stop it. 

In response to this American attack, me and the soldiers around me also started to grow and meta morph into large cobra snakes.  I looked down to see the silver and grey scales as I grew into a large serpent.   We had the numbers to defeat the American serpent.  In a way, I felt that we had ambushed it, even though it had expected to surprise us.

We took this as a great victory.

Later on, we had another victory in another setting using this occult warfare. 

Still I knew how this would all end because the Americans had won the war. 

We were at another place and the American's again attached us in great numbers.  They sent down endless psychic bolts of strange white energy that did not appear to do anything, but must have taken their toll.  Coming at us were families and legions of occult warriors all showering us with the strange light.  We responded in force.  At one point we were overwhelmed as they had attacked what had been a nesting ground for us because our young had been taken from us.  I was also among those captured and they were trying to determine my sex.  One of the Americans exposed his genitalia in an effort to determine mine, but I kept mine hidden and was able to convince them I was female and thus could not participate in what he was attempting.  This seemed to placate them, and they stopped trying to lift up my skirt to determine my sex.  Still I knew in some way I was misleading them.

Earlier on I had another dream, I saw a white bulldog that was owned by an old lady.  The bulldog was very pampered.  For some though, it attacked this other dog that was many times its size.  I could not understand why the dog was doing this because it was much too small.   The other dog stood up with the smaller dog clamped to its throat.  I knew that things would not go well for the bulldog.  The other dog slammed it on the ground and was attacking its throat.  I knew that the bulldog would get killed.  Eventually the big dog, left and I saw the bulldog lying on its back, barely moving and probably dead.  I regretted that I would have to tell the old lady.

Gainesville: Epilogue Part 1: The Vibrations

The world is vibrating all around me.  I look out across the parking lot, across the end of the road, across to the Real Estate Group, across to the Church and its all energy.  Its all calling to me.  But I am fixed and stationary.

Relax into it my friend. Feel that you are part of this great vibration of existence, not separate.  You were never separate, you cannot be separate only though your mind, your pain and your fear. 

My body knows better.

Feel the energy move through you.

Dissolve into it.