The Labyrinth

 The manifestations of the brain are labyrinthian in nature.  As a whole and from the outside, the labyrinth can be beautiful to look at.  But it doesn't really lead anywhere if you are inside it.  And a part of me is always trying to find a way out.  Except at night, then I'm content to be in my cave cocoon, but that's an entirely different kind of energy.

And in a way, external perception, modified, amplified or moderated through the brain can be this type of hallucination.  A dead end.  And psychedelics in a way can amplify the process.   Again the experience can be beautiful, but ultimately not really leading anywhere.

And in a way, dreams can have this same quality of a labyrinth.  Not really leading anywhere.  And this is why when I hear people "sharing" their psychedelic experience or dreams, there is a part of me that resists.  Subjective experience has a party of one.  I'm looking for an experience we can can share, that transcends us.  

And of course that what some would say these experiences are.  That they break down the boundaries, and allow us to experience that which connects us all.  While at the same time being turtles all the way down.  I just don't know.

And in a dream, the person I was with drew the death card.  Which is all about self limitations and we don't realize we have.  We can remove the chains that bind us, if we realized them for what they are.  And I think I'm realizing them now.  And my experience with Blackburn college is related to that.  While JD does not have the chain, there might be something still on me.

Consciousness and thoughts are typically consistent with trauma responses.

 For me consciousness and thoughts are typically consistent with trauma responses.  Which sort of inverts the entire idea of a self.  If our thoughts are nothing more than reactions to what is happening around us, perturbations in our little pond, so to speak, are we really the ripples?  No, of course not, we are the pond--but if all we experience is ripples, you really can't get wet.  And of course, I really really really want to get wet:-).

Some thoughts are more than ripples.  Sometime they contain a lot of creative information.  Warnings about the future.  Stuff like that.  I mean, what the hell am I doing right now typing all this? Is this the ripples typing?  I'm not sure its me, this is just typing absent the ripples, less thoughts of other things entering the mind and distracting me.  These thoughts, these words, however, are not my own.  I have no idea where they come from.  They are a like a gift to use.  They come from someplace very interesting that although I may have some form of control over them and and cultivate them a bit, they really are not me.  They are not ripples either.  

And dreams?  Dreams are like thoughts and creativity on crack   I mean really where do dreams come from?  I swear sometimes I dream that I am voices in some other person's head and we are all interconnected in some strange and wonderful way.  Or I'm in some other planet in some other dimension where the rules are all different.  And dreams may be the most important aspects of thoughts or consciousness we have.  They are more unfiltered.  Less rippled so to speak.  And we should cultivate and create space for them.  For they, like thoughts, are not really ours.  They, like thoughts, are portals to a connection we don't understand, rubberband.  

Contractions (and Turtles)...all the way down

So in Hindu mythology, the world rests on an elephant.  Or so I've been told.   And the elephant rests on a turtle.  And what does the turtle rest on?  We'll of course its turtles all the way down.

And when I think about it, the turtle is a contracted and shielded little (or sometimes big) fellow.  He is surrounded with that shell around him which really slows him down.  He (or she) is contracted in the sense of as if he (or she) has drawn into themselves to become rigid, shielded, armored.   I'm sure there are a ton more adjectives I can use.  Its almost like the turtle is the archetype of contraction.  While some sort of air creature or water creature would be the archetype of expansion.  

So what does all this have to do with me?  Well here I am walking through the forest on my daily route and often I notice that I'm cut off from the forest.  I'm in my own little mental world, not really feeling, hearing, seeing, or connecting to the forest.  Not really there.  And I wonder if my feeling of "not really being there" is like a shell around me that my turtleness has created.  

And in my meditation practice, can I feel the energy of this contraction?  The feeling of it, the sound of it, the hiss of it.  Maybe that's the inner reptile in me feeling the energy.  And there is nothing wrong with it.  Its a gift, right?  Its sacred.  The sacred hiss.  

So what society calls stress or contraction, i'm going to call my sacred reptile.  And the turtle will be my power animal.  Or at least my friend.:-)