Everyone is Surrounded by A Field

 Everyone is surrounded by a field.  Some are very subtle, its almost like nothing is there.  Others are heavy, and when you lean into them, you may recoil--or be drawn in:-).  I'm not sure how or why these fields come into existence.  Sometimes I think that if you keep repeating a story to yourself, either consciously or unconsciously, that story takes a life of its own and becomes manifested writ large.  So if you think "I am this" or "I am that" that intention emanates from body and becomes its own field.   But I believe that more often than not the fields aren't really of our intentional creation at all.   Perhaps they are in response to some trauma.  The trauma might not even be ours.  It could be ancestral, or perhaps our field could have been magnetized by being in close proximity to some other field.

Do you remember the kid in junior high that no one wanted to be around? I always felt sorry for these people, still, I avoided them at times like everyone else.  Sometimes I befriended them. I'm not sure how this fits in.  

Perhaps I'm still looking at this through conventional eyes.  Let me get all woo then.  If we are all portals, all channels all mediums that other spirits or entities interact with, perhaps the energy has nothing to do with us because there really is no "us".  The energy we feel in ourselves or others could emanate from  these entities.   Or the lack of the entities.

I think that the earth also has its own field.  As does the sky.  And trees, don't forget the trees.  And of course, the rocks and crystals.  Its a jungle our there...lol

The Vagina Theory of Everything: One

Chapter One  "First Contact"

It is better to feel or hear the vagina than to think about it.  Though the mind can penetrate the mystery of the vagina, I recommend being very still, and if you can read this in a quiet place, just listen.  

As I listen now, I can hear the traffic in the street outside of my room.  As my attention comes closer to me, I can hear a faint hiss, like that of white noise.  Can you hear this?  As I focus more on this sound I sense that the hiss is actually a faint vibration.  Though this vibration starts in my ears, I realize that it is not just in my ears but in my body.  My body is also vibrating to this rhythm.  The rhythm of the vagina.

Now some may say that this rhythm is from the heart, or the pulse, or something like that.  And they would not be wrong.  For the heart is the sister to the vagina.  As is the body.  Indeed, the vagina is related to everything.  It is everything.   That is why it is so wonderful.  But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.  Its better not to plunge directly in the vagina, though its hard not to, because of course the vagina is everything.

I am the Summoner and the Summoned

This kind of dove tails on the previous dream.  I would read that one first, otherwise, this might not make sense.

Of course, how I meditate changes by the day and the hour.  In the words of a wise old zen teacher who wrote a book, "Everything is the Way."  So here is a bit of the "Everything"

Sometimes it is a little vibratory and rhythmic and now and then there is a construction of geometric symbols.   Let me give an example.  Today, I had the voice or inclination to start the meditation in the space above my head.  And there was an image of the sun.  After a time, that changed to the drum beats of a certain rhythm.  That coincided with the vibrations of my body and of the space around me.  Then I kept thinking of sacred geometry, though I really don't know what that means.  But I put the base of a pyramid also above my head (which is a square in two dimensions) and put lines up to form the top of the pyramid from each of the four directions to form the apex or top point of the pyramid.  I kept drawing the lines up to the top in rhythm over and over.  When I drew the line from the east (which was in front of me) my attention went from the front of me up to the point above me head.  Then I went clockwise to the right and drew the line up from the west to the top of my head. Then on to the east and north in the same rhythm, over and over.  After a while I felt like what I was doing was something like what that character in the dream who was doing when he was performing a repetitive ritual to conjure me.  Then I realized today was that I too was performing a conjuring.  I was conjuring up me.   (Of course, it also got weird for a bit because I starting also conjuring up an alien presence--then I remembered Fool's Crow and the hollow bone and there is no alien presence--so we are all good).

  I continued to conjure up me for the remainder of the 50 minute session before I went outside to move the actual physical pyramids around.  And here I am, the summoner and the summoned...lol  Or in other words, in my dream from last week, I am both the character who has the answers, and the narrator, and the new consciousness that is created.

I am Here, I am Here

There were characters in my dream trying to escape from something, or participating in a game trying to solve a puzzle.  Maybe a little of each.  I'm not sure that I was any of the characters, or I was watching.  There were several levels or rounds involved.  And where I was following (if that is the word for what was happening) one character, I might of switched to follow another character who was having success.  It seemed that he had the answers to each level. 

At the end, he was in a room with several other people.  There was someone who had been with him on other levels who may have been me.   Or he may have had a friend who was doing it also.  Also at least one female.  He seemed to be sorting out or looking at these documents or records with the females who seemed to be somewhat in competition with him somehow.  The more he was sorting I started saying to myself, like a mantra, "I am here, I am here"  It seemed that as I kept saying this, my body started to take form.  I felt like I was the answer for what he was trying to do, and I had to get his attention to let him know that what he was doing was successful because I had been created.   Like what he was doing was conjuring me up in a sense.  I was being created.  I tasted bile in my mouth and I was having trouble breathing, like I was being born or something.   I became anxious.   It was almost like I was in a simulation, like that space in ayahuasca I go to where my existence is in the matrix. 

Then I was almost awake, but I didn't want to be.  I had it in my mind I had to go back in the dream to find out what information was in the prior levels of what he and the other characters were doing.  I don't remember specifically what they were doing when I started to wake up, but I felt it was important.  Then I eventually woke.  It almost felt like he was an aspect of my consciousness finding its way to the surface, and the reason why he was so successful in navigating it was because he already knew the path.  

Becoming More Solid

We aren't really anything.  We are not the wave, we are the ocean.  We are vast and rhythmic.  

Then we have thoughts, we become more solid.  The disturbing thoughts will even bring pain to our body.  Some thought will repeat, like the bodies attempt to heal itself by oscillating us back into motion, into the ocean.   And healing oscillations also arise in trance states, drumming, or mantras.

In this way, each thought we have is its own little trauma.  But I think we need to come up with a new word for trauma.  Yes, each trauma is its own separation, and the pain of separation, but each thought is also its own little work of creation.  For that this the magic.  Trauma creates thoughts and thoughts are what makes us Choate.  Thoughts are what brings something out of nothing.  Thoughts as trauma as pain as creation.  And like a snake eating its own tail, our act of creation is a way of working with our trauma, perhaps building a structure around the trauma, perhaps dancing with the trauma.

But we are not what we think we are.  That is the mystery.  And though the denizens of the Cahokia mounds may think that there are dimensions beyond the so called middle world, I sense a deeper relationship that I have not yet began to fathom.  And in the future, the message sent back to me now is that we are like portals for transmissions we have not yet begun to understand.

Prophetic Dream, Part 1

 I was dreaming.  There was something said about the ownership of the pond that is on D.D's property in Southern Illinois.  Someone said it was always in her family.  I thought she purchased it.  Or that is what I said in the dream.   Actually, I have no idea.   I don't know why I was so sure in the dream.  Or remember being sure.

Then an indigenous American man came up beside me.   He was jogging up beside me.  He was not dressed in traditional garb.  He had short Western hair and clothes typically worn by males in the US.  I did not know who this man was.  I did not recognize him.  But when I looked closely I could tell he was either a spirit or someone or something deserving of respect.  I bowed to him.  He nodded.    "One more day," he was trying to tell me.  "One more day."    "Something bad is going to happen."   I assume he meant he was indicating that something bad was going to happen bad to me, or to my daughters--that is where my mind immediately went.  I don't know if I asked him directly or if he knew I was asking him what the bad thing was, but he grimaced and looked with pain and a look that suggested that a "doozie"  was going to happen, Likely something that I did or was going to do.

I asked him "what can I do?"

Then the scene changed.  Then another male appeared.  Again, about the same age as me and dressed like he was from the US.  But this one I knew was African.  I knew if because of his accent.  He said, "take advantage of feedback from around the world."  

So when I woke up, I started contacting people from around the world, especially those that I had interviewed on the podcast:-).    That was three days ago.

End Part 1.

Collaboration #1 (2022 Version)

pale 
 migrated far from the source, 
entranced by an awkward forgetful beat
There is a rhythm, a memory, waiting to emerge from my cracked sheltered skin

Memory of a rhythm this vibe is dignified
case in point
Content of Character inspired with joy
why Judge my reflection from Others
Lyfe of Noise
I am a Man
Alone, Appreciate the humility of the Man
So why view me as a threat?

We learned to fear what we lost
Kicked out of plentiful Eden
Starving
We fought to keep what we thought ours
No more sun
no warmth
no dance
And late at night
We scribbled crude pictures in the cold rock


Visually fixed intelligence
translated pictures so perfect the memory bliss
pages forever turnt.
This Olive branch in Lyfe the Creator
Given w/a Governing twist
Complicity of a Beautiful Freedom
Reason of Being
Vindictive over this precious Happiness

Faustian Bargain

We created the one God that thought he was everything

by giving up nothing

except his sex

and his children

we were cruel

we are cruel

and we will take you soul and screen shot it everywhere

while 

Collaboration #2 (2022)

Collaboration #2: St. Paul/Springfield 

HP:  I'm kind of mental with my eyes closed at a point  we can't renege simple conversation  

when you love to hear the spiciest crown peace that only a moment can capture  her eyes sweet Hazel like honey lips drip like a lily pad smooth as baby pillow  the only Reflections prayers will pass.  

Slow to approach Vibe so ecstatic  I felt emphatic Ohh, Lord!  My form to lower my gaze of Attraction this woman you can only be me imagine  Jane Kennedy Imam with Aaliyah smile no make up hairless flaw    

MK: Prototypic irrationality  Merging out of elevated nature  

the infinite seed 

brilliantly despoiled  

Spewing Sharia --Between the money shots  of the myriad Congress.  

Now the House represents Ayoketshawa doing deep prajna paramita in your Va Ja Ja.    

HP: Without a mistake from the south I so why they deliver the smile Artistry or toes no flaw  the pain i can always remember  Halloween Candy Corn  we met early September what year glamour had my thoughts  like a swimmer voice  represented presents with that Elegance of Intelligence and relevance the question. echo.    

MK:  Dramatic music

Blended past the creamy sip

Bodies beyond cage free

A fire at the old school yo

and yer shit burned down

spoiler alert

The Spirit Inside Us

 I feel with that close attention and connection we can feel the spirit inside us that wants us to form a more intimate connection with the ALL.  If we can get out of the way of the spirit, it will by something that almost lead us by magnetism to where there is a greater connection with the ALL.  Though it may be painful.  The way it points to is almost through a threshold or barrier.

It is interesting that in hypnagogic states or dreams or simply with the energy of the night or even in some day dream states we can feel this spirit and what it is leading us to is like a foreign dimension of reality.  Something that we could not possibly imagine or experience with our own effort, like we have crossed a threshold into a new level of existence that bears little experiential relationship to where we left. It is almost like we have transferred into a new body or realm of existence.  We become a new person.  Of course, we never really were the old person we thought we were.  We are a myriad of fractal beings that can shift into an endless series of fluid others.  But there are no others.  There is only this continuum.  Perhaps it is the collective unconsciousness. 

Last night my attention was on my root chakra, over and over and over again the thoughts were moved down there.  And to the four bottom corners of my room.  And to the floor. Which was connected to the basement.  Which was connected to the earth.   And I kept moving the thoughts down there.  And I know that I had the feeling that as I kept worrying about my daughters in Las Vegas that my practices turned to a loving kindness meditation for them, their friends. my friends, my family, the people in my life.  And it turned that it was a giant blessing for them.  I was giving my life for them.  I thought about the archetype of Jesus, and I felt it more deeply than I had ever had, for this life is not our own.  And at this deep level, this was the purpose of everything.  The power of the sacrifice archetype.  And it wasn't really me that was dying, and in that way, I wasn't afraid anything.  The me was not there anymore. There was the intention only.  The intention that everyone could see their way through this.   Blessed.

Ode to Mugwort

 Late on a Saturday night (330 am), I awoke to find myself in the somewhat familiar place of sensitivity, pain and insight.  I had the days events replaying, and especially the frenetic energetic face and actions of my artist friend MS.  He was talking to me and gesturing over and over and I felt the energy inside me recoil.

Then I remembered mugwort tea.  So I decided to make some and so indulged.  After drinking it, I laid back down and was almost immediately in its grasp. I was directed to go to that place of focus.  Only this time it was a place of stillness.  This place can be  in an area behind my heart, and the base of my brain, at the back or my skull, in my tailbone.    It can be almost in any inner or outer body part.  However this time, it was at the back of my throat.

When my presence settled down at the back of my throat, it was showing me that I could rest there, while it sped up the thoughts and environment around me.  This silent quiet place of me was still,  but it was like sitting next to a fast moving spring, and instead of water, the moving parts were the memories, thoughts and visions of earlier in the day and other events.  It said that this skill would be useful as I may encounter difficulties at the end of May.

I continued to rest in this slowly moving place during the morning meditations.  

Now I remember, and trying not to Forget (Round V)

This is probably from some of the resonances from the meditation and the listening to the Paul Selig channeled books, but its almost as if the mediation practice, and indeed the life practice is one of constant offering of ourselves to the universe.  Its not ours to begin with.  And offering our life in mediation seems to raise the vibration, like a plant or flower spreading her leaves.  Its maybe how we spread our wings for flight.

So I have the new Aya from Spain of all places.  And low doses to start.  Little by little bit by bit becoming more comfortable in the space.  And to start it was wonderful.  Like being cared for and supported in a wonderful energetic way.  Caressed.   And all was good.  Then I felt is connection waning, and its effects wearing off.  And with it was a message that it had to balance out the energies.   This was the balance that the medicine had to keep.  The contraction.  And all through this I had been supported by the kind voice of Rachel Hilary's guided meditations on Insight Timer, gently telling me to go into my heart and it was safe to go into the body.  Then I felt blood and death, not strongly, still off in the distance.   And I felt Rachel's guided meditation had synchronisticly buttressed me for this.   

Then I was back at the way station.  And I remembered.   And the first impulse is to run.  And I went outside.  And I felt grounded at the farmhouse.  I was here.  There was no place to go.  I felt grounded to this earth.  

The fear was that it was happening again. The endless cycle that I had stumbled into inevitably with the medicine.  But this time was different.  I did not want M to come.  I wanted to face this.  I saw what I had written.  I knew that this was a trip and would end.  I went to the front room and did prostrations.  I began meditating in my square altar.  If this was the end, I would face it this way.  I had faith that this was the proper response to the situation.

Though I did not feel it at the time, but I do feel it as I type this now, the way station is a wonderful gift.  If we live in a universe of eternal rebirth, or anything mysterious or funky like that, being able to participate in the way station in what is ostensibly this life is a precious gift, even if energetically I could not get there at the time.

And still there is the nagging doubt.   Even in this space while I'm at work the next day, but much stronger when I'm in the energetic space of the way station.    The fear that I'm missing something and that the aperture is closing.  And that's what spurs on the indecision.  It is the fuel that causes me not to trust what's going on and to keep looking.    For the aya journey is not different than the journey here at work.  The underlying processes are the same.  Perhaps my fear that I am losing my memory and that there is something to transcend, something to find in this world, to not overlook, is real.  At one level, my powers and memory may be fading, or will fade soon.  What is there to be done here? I have this going on even here at work.  It this world, it would be called psychotic or schizophenic, or whatever the DSM-V would characterize it as.  But at another level, I am not so sure.  Maybe this is the most important thing I should honor.  Maybe this whole thing is what I should offer up to the divine. 

So I wanted to go into this voice.  This voice telling me to remember.  To not get sucked into this world.  And I did the mediation where I climb the cell and go up to the other meditation room  And I bow to the natraj.  And I take the key out of the sea shell at the other end of the hall, and I open the door to another table.  And the part of me sitting on the other table, the part of me pushing me on this journey, this back and forth, is the gay guy that used to work at it's all about wine.   He is my part that will not stop looking for something in this world.  And I want to find a way to honor, connect and learn from him.    Even though his vibration does not fit in this world.  Still there is something to work with here.  And to see what he is trying to show me.   

People from the Past with Senility and Apologies

I'm trying to feel what part of my body contains or vibrates to the messages of the dreams. I think I can feel it right behind my heart.  That must be a powerful place.

This dream involved two people from the past.  

I was on a train I think.  Or maybe getting off the train.  I saw her.  I smiled.  She did not avoid me but smiled back.  We then started talking and went to an area like a bar or restaurant.  Interesting now that I remember this dream, I am thinking of another dream I forgot about renting and apartment in St. Louis, and a game inside, but that is another dream.

On the way to our seat, I was told that R. J. , my fathers old football roommate at the University of Utah was in the building.   R. went on to be a professional football player.   I think several weeks ago my parents said that he may be having issues related head injuries and age.  Or senility.  Or Alzheimer's.   Anyway, the individual who was pointed out to me was obviously not R.J. because they were young.  Anyway, my old friend and I took a seat.  I don't remember what we talked about, but it must have been pleasant, because either she put her legs on me or I draped my legs over her.

Then I was with another friends father.  The father, who I never met, died last year.  I was talking with him and we went to the place were by other old friend was at.  It was outside and she was sitting down writing me a letter.  I don't remember exactly what the letter said, but it was something like an apology letter to me because of  Donald or Ronald Kirsch.  It real life, she does not know any such person.  And neither to I:-)

Tell Your Truth to the Dog that Bites You. For it is you.

There are a number of interwoven dreams here.  

I was talking to my father I think and told him that I was in contact with the spirit world.  He did not believe me, and nevertheless I manifested the contact.  Even though I did not feel it at the moment that I was in touch with the spirit world, I nevertheless knew that I was in contact, and started a ritual to prove him wrong.

Then I was back to being a lawyer.  But I was in contact with the spirit.  I was with a Judge in a region that vaguely felt like Madison county in that I knew I was not welcome.  There were many books involved.  All over the place, and I was mistaken about them somehow.  The judge was celebrating the death of someone, in the way that they do in this world.  Paying homage to another attorney, telling how he has served the community etc.  I knew I was in another ritual of this world, but it somehow felt false.  I felt like I was an outsider.

The I was with a wild dog, I was somehow interacting with it in a way that felt like I was manipulating it.  After a time, it turned around and went straight after me.  I jumped up, and in the process woke up as it was about to make contact with me.

Here is me telling my truth.  As the shepardess suggested I must do in dealing with the ancestors.  I can go to that happy place near the base of my brain, and find the calm there before I act:

Paranoia is a gift.  It's an indication that we are sensitive to the spiritual realm which is inconsistent with this realm in a variety of ways.  Hence the tension of paranoia.

And at one level, what the paranoia is showing us is real.  So the practice is to honor the gift of paranoia.  Which perhaps is better called heightened sensitivity.  Honor it, but realize in this realm, the creatures play by different rules. and even though they are flawed and hence we don't trust them, that is what we signed up for by coming to this realm.  So we must be of two minds.  The mind that honors the paranoia, and the mind that has compassion for what it sees, for everyone that we are afraid of or think has bad motives, if part of the divine as well.  They are all us.

So we have a great gift.

The Contagion of Spirits

 This one is part dream and part life.  The life part is somewhat obscured to prevent disclosure to those that are infected.  

They were all evil.  A whole group of them.  And they were following me everywhere.  I could not get rid of them.   The ones in the dream knew they were evil.  And when I told them that, I don't really remember their reaction, but there was no rejection on it, to be sure.  With one, who became separated with me, I even asked do you remember the time when you were not evil?  What happened to you?  I was trying to feel some pity or connection to him.  Part of the problem I realized is that when I ran from them, I was participating in the evil.  But there seemed no alternative.  If you sat next to them, as they directed you to do, they would infect you.  Even the ones not in a dream that don't realize what they are doing.

And that is the part that is most disturbing.  The part when you are minding your business, feeling all equanimous and you encounter someone who is unhappy, sad, or angry.  Nothing wrong with that.  Sometimes they ask for help, and you help them.    But there is something about these energies that want to spread to other people.  So the people want you to sit and to listen to them.  They want you to be close and to give them your undivided attention.  Because they cannot control the feelings in them they try to solve their own problems by controlling you.  I'm not sure I understand the mechanism of transmission, but that is how it works.  It makes me think that the old beliefs of  disease or mental health being regulated by spirits or spiritual possession to have some merit.  I wonder where I can find an exorcist? 

I had another dream about evil beings when I returned home from Tuscon.  This time they were following around with knives.  I created some spell or some protective barrier that even when they stabbed me it didn't hurt.   This of course was great.  And I really almost feel sometimes that I can enter mental states where this is almost possible.  I remember meditating late at night waiting for the alarm to go off to go to the airport and focusing on a point just outside my heart.  And it seems that when you create a point outside of your body, that it gives you body some sort of freedom, or space to operate in that is liberating.  So I go that going for me.....lol.  

Escaping the Matrix

I'm sitting on the happy hill overlooking Tuscon.  I walk up feeling the earth beneath me like no other place.  It's welcoming me back like no other place.  And I look at the saguaro and rocky outcroppings which protect the petroglyphs and I know that I am being called back to the place as I have been called back perhaps through eternity.  And how this perpetual call and return in the Ayahuasca space is frightening, here it is welcoming.  Something that always was, always will be, world without end, Amen.   

And I start the meditation touching the rocks which hold the portal and feel drawn away from the city down below.  The matrix.  You can be lost in it.  You are always lost in it.  I am instructed to breath so that the inbreaths bring me back, each breath in one of the four directions, then above me, and below me.  And I am no longer in the matrix, but here among the rocks and the cactus.  Then there is just be an two saguaros, then me and the saguaro in front of me, then just the saguaro.  

Then the insight timer bell rings and I am drawn back to the matrix, my parents hiking up the hill next to me and I join them.  Its my mother's birthday after all.

Fear is seeing An Other

This of course happened between 330 and 5 am, which is generally when all the interesting stuff happens.  Anyway, I was not really asleep, not really awake.  Felt there was someone at the back door screen door.  And it turns out, and this is the dream perhaps, that there really was.  A black female and a white male.  The white male had a beard and looked sort of like Kaedrich Olsen.   The woman wore a hat, sort of like a jester hat with two prongs sticking up.  However, when the women pressed he face against the window, which she was doing, the two prongs stuck up like horns, which was somewhat disconcerting.    Then I remembered the teaching from the Upanishads, fear is recognizing the other.  If there is no other there is no fear.  And there is in many ways, no other.   But I digress.  

Anyway, this thought came to mind and because the black woman at the door was not some sort of demon, but was really part of the me that is the entire cosmos, I did not react in fear.  I saw her as part of myself.  And I could let her in as an internal voice.  And she would have a separate compartment in my mind/soul, and would agree to not to do any mischief while she was there.  At least not serious mischief.  We all get in a little shit I suppose.  So I agreed to let her into my mind.  In a walled off area.   And I can/have/will consult her about stuff.  Like nightly visits to the bluffs.  And the house on the hill with the dog called Flower.  And the pianos.  And the lemons.  And the gummies.

And I was thinking that at this time of the night, it is like a bad drug trip, because something is taken away from you.  The security of the mind and the structures and defenses that you have built with it.  And a repetition and a nothingness and an escape from everything you do.  Like what is really going on at a fundamental reality is a dance I do to avoid facing something.   Over and over again.  And over again, the realization that what i do is nothing more than the avoidance of this realization in new an creative ways, but always the realization that I will always come back to this place throughout time eternal.  And in some ways, that is what i have been asking for. To see this in a dream, as opposed to psychedelics, so that there is less chance that I will run from it.

P.S. It is from the recognition of a second entity that fear arises.  If there is no separation, no second entity, then there is no fear, unless you are afraid of yourself.  Of course, I might not put that past me.   I am kinda scary.  Of course, what if you contain multitudes as Whitman thought?  And I'm not just talking gut bacteria.  They are all just you and you are just me and I am an eggman and and walrus, the last time I checked.