Dream Collage

I am SO relieved, this is the last of them! This is all the stuff I found in handwritten journal fragments and a few emails. I have more in a 'book two' for bewilderness but I cannot find that file anywhere.

This post is just a collection of thoughts and dreams, nothing important just some shamanic and spiritual and psi and odd stuff, same 'ol. I don't want to lose these pieces esp as some are slightly 'dark side' (which I tend to under-record) and I'm clearing out the physical books, so I'm putting it here for my 'search' posterity. Thankfully future blogging should only be current stuff now.

I have not done any meditating in the few days since I've been collecting this stuff. I see now that a huge edu was needed for me as I'd forgotten a ton of important stuff esp. about the Four, and chakras, and outer guides, and so on, so I feel it was worth the effort.


Journal fragment, June 25, 2008

I was in a dream having a conversation with someone who was a teacher. I asked him, Do you think I should I be learning to deal with negative spiritual stuff? And he said something I don't remember (which implied "No") and then explained at the end of that:

For you should be able to say with a clear heart: "I know nothing of evil; I know only the goodness of the Lord."

Later, I found I was wearing a very beautifully intriguing "black heart" pendant necklace, and I understood that this belonged in nature to a woman who was evil, and that would not be me, and so I gave it back to her, feeling it was not appropriate that I should wear it. Then me and "my people" stood singing Ave Maria for quite awhile.

Despite that went on awhile, and I think other dreams and quite some time passed before I woke up, still when I woke I had his voice and that sentence running through my head so clearly, as if it was set to be the first thing I heard on awakening, to be sure I wouldn't forget it.


Journal fragment, July 22 or 23, 2008

Archmed on fear of failure [specific to conscious psi functioning performance]. The arch was a sickly green and a sickly yellow, humanoid, with a fish head and some things sticking out of him. Long shape through gut, chest, and head was a harpoon! I dissolved it. Cleaned him with water of life. Another tall rectangle stuck out the top of his head. As I dissolved this, the back of my right hand suddenly hurt, I could tell they were related.

I thought, "I sense his fish head means issues from the womb." He said to me, "Also, those passed genetically by parents." (I wondered if this a common symbol or only mine.) He was then in a tuxedo, and we danced in an outdoor ballroom under the stars. I told him I thought fear of failure could sometimes be useful, that I was not trying to destroy him, but it had been so strong that in some areas it interfered with my trying something at all, which defeated the point of my being alive. I asked him to help push me to succeed, instead. I kissed his fishy forehead and took him back to IG. I forgot to ask him for something on/in me but I think it's ok. {Note: this was not a good med; I should have attempted better and complete healing.}


Journal fragment, Feb 8, 2006

Archmed on fear/rage. Big bulky muscled guy. Every time I tried to look directly at it, I had a sharp pain literally in my heart!, and felt massive fear in my gut. Enough work and finally he surprised me by unzipping the bulk and stepping out of himself like most of the outer body had been clothes. Weird. Felt like it worked ok though.


Thoughts. 15Jan06. Technology of prayer

I got into a meditation of prayer. At one point, I nearly shifted into a state I sometimes experienced when doing hands-on energy work. It feels as if "a light opens up in me" from "just in front of me" yet it is also somehow "through" me, heart to crown. It feels as if light comes down via my crown chakra, and "I" am moved slightly backward in my body, just behind center. (It's possible the heart chakra is in the front of the body, like the 3rd eye, not the center, and this is what I'm feeling.) I began praying to be made a better person so I could better serve othres and the greater good. This became a distinct state of mind, one I have not felt before. This led to a thought:

Might there be a technology of sorts for prayer? Some "method" -- or at least, a certain intent -- whereby prayer, like my experience, shifts from being an idea or process, into that "holy communion"? I nearly shifted into it twice, not successfully. Maybe my thinking "about" it instead of just "being" it got in the way. (The primary lesson of my spiritual life involved getting my left brain the hell outta the way and pushing for 'doing' not 'thinking' which sidetracks me into intellectualism.)

So I asked to be taught "how to pray". To really do it right, do it best, not just a mental thing but a full-on powerful energy thing.

I have that new inner guide now. He is kinda pale up close. Has tiny spots on his side I see now, like Dax the 'trill' on DS9. Weird!


Journal fragment, January 20, 2006

In a dream, I was having a discussion with two women and a man. They were identical like triplets. After a few moments, I became suspicious about this. I could feel it just wasn't... right. They were unnaturally too similar in the feel of their energy, especially for having different genders.

"Are you *sure* you're not a trifurcated biological clone?" I demanded, which I know in my head is an intentionally created-being that is actually neither gender.

"Yes," they admit sheepishly.

"I haven't met many of those," I say carefully, trying not to show judgement.

"Oh, there are tons of us. Tons and tons!" they tell me with enthusiasm.

I do often have 'three' in dreams, but it is usually either three things in series or three levels...


Journal fragment, September 3, 2005

I've been thinking. The only thing we truly own is our 'sense of the continuity of identity'. My body changes at every level constantly. The body I claimed last week is not the me of today. By the time I have even a thought about this, the body which began the thinking is no longer quite the same. The only thing remaining from the me of 20 years ago is the potential illusion of my "sense of continuous identity." When I am someone else in a dream I am me. When I am someone else in an RV target I am me. When I was a different person in a different place at a different time 25 years ago, I am me. When I tune into the me in a dream I may have years of history in that reality. It is all me. If the only thing I perceive is, obviously, "my own perception," then how is anything else I perceive independent of me? Doesn't my perception alone force all things into the subjective channel of me?

[a short time after that, the crucixion happened, so maybe that answered that.]


Journal fragment, [date unk]

I am "of" so many things and places and peoples and times, the only thing familiar to me when I get in the flow is the Sun. I feel as if the sun is the one thing that has been a constant in all my lives, in all my worlds, in all my realities, in all my times. I think I understand the 'Ra' concept, and I like the name, because of that. I call it Ra and tell him how much I adore him.


Journal fragment, [date unk]

Quote from Seth: "...The body is composed of living, responding atoms and molecules, and they compose the cells, and these combine to form the organs. The organs possess the combined consciousnesses of each of the cells within them, and in their way the organs sense their own identity." [...] "While you are in this reality there is no division between the mental, the spiritual and the physical. If you think there is, then you do not sufficiently understand the spirituality of the flesh or the physical reality of your thought."


Journal fragment, November 10, 2004

I went to my OG plateau, in prep for another CC med, and the main guide told me I should ask to work with the most substantial block I had.

I said, physical or energy? He said, the physical IS energy.


Journal fragment, [date unk, 2006?]

Today in an archetype meditation on "issues with authority which are manifesting as overwhelming debt", a variety of things went on during the med. The archetype was predictably horrifying. The ones you have a problem with always are. This one was dark and disgusting and sorta slimy and had way too many things going on for a normal body. I cleaned and dried and so on, visualizing various dynamics as needed for healing. When it was done there was still one issue, this weird motion, and I reached in and a snake slithered out of it and I grabbed it and pulled it out and visualized the light-of-love all over it. Normally things morph into something better, but this just disappeared like dissolved.

I said, "What does this mean, I don't get it?"

And the arch said, "Your mild incest as a child with authority figures has set up a belief system geometry that makes them the 'overwhelming unfightable authority' and you the 'vulnerable helpless' one. You live what you know and you've held that pattern."

I said, "Holy shit! You're telling me that incest causes financial problems?" This struck me as sort of absurd.

It said, "No, I'm telling you that *for you*, that experience caused a build of certain energy structures that in your current life are manifesting in this way."

He then 'showed' me in a sort of 'understanding-sequence' that for other people, this might manifest as a bad boss, an invasive mother in law, cops with a tendency to harrass, the list was infinite.

I felt a focus in the bottom front of my right foot, the ball and a little bit forward, and I said, "That is a main body area that relates to this authority problem?" and he agreed.

{I JUST was looking for an answer to this, so it's awesome I found record of that med.}


Journal fragment, July 1, 2006

In a dream, I met a man I saw so clearly it was mind boggling. He had very dark hair, and he was a really big guy. {Later when awake I thought his name might have been "Ben," but I didn't remember that from the dream so it might be wrong.} He had been a remote viewer in some secret military effort, I understood. I perceived him as if he had some kind of family relationship to me. I kept going back around him, and he acted like he couldn't decide if he was happy to meet me or felt weird about it all.

At one point he picked up a couple offbeat things in his hand I can't recall, but I think one was fire and one was wind... but they were objects. He began to go off to use them, and I realized they had connection for use as a prop during psi, in a sort of negative RI kind of way. He saw that I saw, and he looked at me sadly, like that wasn't really who he wanted to be inside, and yet was.

I just couldn't believe how clearly I saw the guy, never seen this person in life that I know of, I suppose it must be 'an aspect' of me or something. I slept at his house, and he woke me up early to exercise. I protested greatly that I see no relation to RV in this. He was really a dominating trainer-bully about it.


Journal fragment, September 2002

I was lucid in this dream but it was a shamanic trap! Sheesh. Either that or even my dreams are getting really paranoid.

In the dream--well actually I was doing something else and the dream was interrupted/changed when a man from Mexico came to find me, asking to travel/stick close to me. Said he'd known and loved my mother very well {she died of cancer when I was 9}, implying that should make me treat him like family. He said he needed shelter because both our governments had unfairly abused him (he showed me pictures of him beat up and bruised), and implied they were responsible for her death.

He assured me that my father also knew him as mom's close friend, but I promptly wondered, "Does dad really know him??" and my father 'pops into' the dream and says to us, "No way, I have no idea who that guy is!" and vanishes. So this other man pops into existence on his side, and validates the guy, and assures me dad just doesn't remember.

The man gives me a box to keep for him, to keep near us, with a subtle implication things in it had been mom's. For some reason we have to part.

I go straight to my close friend X, a soldier and psychic and father figure {in real life}, and I tell him about this. He is instantly distrustful. He takes the box, 'feels' it and then opens it. It's filled with what seemed to be gifts or a woman's things, like crochet needles and such, innocent and pretty. But X says with a growl, "These are weapons." He takes most of the pointy/knife-like things and hides them in his clothing.

He comes with me to find the man, he wants to hunt him down himself, before the guy comes back for me. But we're interrupted by this gorgeous young woman, who sucks up to X and tells me to please go wait 'over there' in a waiting room while they talk privately. X loses all facial expression and looks totally neutral, so I can tell he doesn't trust her at all, but he hesitantly indicates I should go ahead and wait where it's safe and they will talk.

I went into the waiting room and found myself instantly trapped in a weird prison. Another woman stood helpless in there and clearly unhappy about it.

"That's implant #25", the woman said in disgust, about the pretty woman who'd gotten X's attention.

"Impl-- you mean this is a dream, and this woman is like a thought form implanted into the dream by an outside someone or agency?" I said in astonishment.

"Yes," she agreed sullenly. I searched for an escape. "Don't bother," she groused. "There isn't one. It's not like they wouldn't have thought to make it impossible." But I knew how details of my mind often escaped the dream implanters, as I knew I had encountered them before, so I went looking anyway, determined.

I finally found my way out, and I went straight to my friend; the woman had gone. He said quietly to me, "None of this is real. This is all invented solely to get you to allow that man to get and stay close to you."

Then I felt very confused, like my mind was suddenly grey static for a second, followed by it suddenly clearing but now I 'remembered' a brand new sliver about my past I'd never had before. I heard myself blurting out some confession about it to my friend, a thing that might normally be expected to make someone distracted from whatever they're thinking about by that kind of news (something about 'whoring 20 men a day once as a child' or something like that, with an overlay of mind control). But my friend didn't even blink, he instead focused on showing me that the man had provably been lying. As he was showing me this, the man showed up with minions, and they laughed wickedly, intending to kill him, as X yelled at me, "Get down!"

I dropped and rolled, hiding behind a piece of furniture, as sounds of some scuffle ensued. It was mostly quiet and still then, and I dared to peek out. Bodies lay around the floor, with obviously thrown stabbing implements in them, the ones X had hidden in his clothes from that box. He said, "I killed him first, as I trusted him least," pointing at the foreign guy.

Then he took me "somewhere safe" and sat down quietly with me and asked me about the thing I'd said about childhood. I began to tell him, but as I was doing so, somehow it all "shifted away from me" like it no longer existed. I said, "I think I may have accidentally invented that. I don't know. To be honest, I have so many histories of me, that I sometimes have no idea who I am." (I had an overlay of multiple realities and being able to tune into any of them as one's "past".) He nodded as if he understood. He was sitting up against something, and I leaned over and put my head against his chest, finally feeling safe, and fell asleep. A short time later, my alarm woke me up.


Journal fragment, 2004 I think

Perhaps this world is illusion, like the magic spells in our archetypal stories which cause the hero to be lost in the wilderness. When we look and see, we believe what we see. If we look only at where our feet touch our path, and have faith in that, the path may unveil itself to us one step at a time. Look ahead though, and you're lost. Like driving through heavy fog in the dark, we must steer by the tiny strip of white line on the pavement at the side; trying to look into the opaque abyss is suicide.

Maybe my daily life and insecurities are like the confused journey of someone wandering the forest and believing every path they see. Maybe they are valid, but then again: how often do I ask myself with my heart, from the depth of myself that is more than the surface I call me, "what is real?"

What we experience... maybe it depends not so much on where we are, or when we are, or who we are, as what we are. And what we are changes every moment. Not just in body but on more levels than we can count. We are always in a state of 'becoming'. I sense: The human is terrified by the unknown. The mind and ego are forced to work within time, and hold a consistent sense of identity, but every moment is actually the 'new'. Might this be why humans cling so fiendishly to tradition, ritual, and fear of change?

The Narrator is a part of me. I would be less 'me' without him. Yet he also has another existence without me, as I do him. We... 'overlap' and merge where we do. To the extent I focus my attention so he 'comes through' me ("intuitive writing" is his voice, so to speak), I benefit from his... insight. And he benefits from my... energy... or something. It is a tradeoff. As I once wrote--thanks to him--we "pay" attention. It is our rent on reality.

Maybe we are symbiotes, like Judzia Dax, the Trill on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. An old soul in a young body. Maybe the degree of our power from that merge depends on our ability to recognize the parts of ourself which are not the surface genetics we consider our personality.


Journal fragment, date unknown

There is a stronger destiny, I feel, than the mundane world we see. The mundane world that has no interest in psi or spirit. It is the illusion of the forest, enchanting us away from what we 'feel' when who we are touches the path we walk. I know of few people who don't have the sense of 'impending.' Who don't feel that within a dozen years -- if that -- something fairly significant is going to occur. War... probably. First contact... probably. Probability shift?... probably. Someone knows. Probably many someones. And we all know, at some level of consciousness.

I thought to myself, Maybe it is a form of messianic/paranoic insanity to think such things.

Then someone inside me responded, That is the power of the surface-world to dampen your fire and convince you not just of a different path, but that there is no path at all. That because LOGIC in the cold world of illusion doesn't support the idea, you must be insane to think such a thing exists.


Journal fragment, date unknown

Last night Ry said in the kitchen, following a brief joke about tornados, "I'm not going to die. I'm here for a reason, and I haven't done what I'm here for yet." She was perfectly casual about this and continued on what she was doing. Maybe at 8 she is young enough to know. Are we too jaded to hear that from ourselves? Do we have a purpose?

That reminds me that when she was maybe 6?, she was telling me something about her earlier childhood, and she added something casually with a shrug, like, "But I didn't come here until I was about four." I said, what do you mean? She said, "I was only dreaming this life until then. It was just a dream. But then I went into the dream and it became real and I was living here, instead. But I wasn't really here until then."


Journal fragment, date unknown

I met a man (Nestor) who was one of the gifted. He put his hands inside my skin. He gave me energy that saved me and changed my life. He did this for anybody who requested it. He was not a saint. He smoked. He liked beer and Kareoke. He had three kids and was technically catholic. The priests, he told me privately, considered him chosen in some way and felt he should be an example. "Live in a cave in a white robe?" I suggested with a grin, and he laughed yes.

When he touched me that way, I knew he felt me. Psychically. I 'understood' during the experience that this was how it ought to be. Health, I mean. But it was more than that. I could feel the ability inside me. It had a huge feel, like something "on the tip of my tongue." Something that deep on my inside, recognized what he was doing on the outside, and almost, but not quite, made the connection. I had the clear sense that if I could merely stand in his presence while he did this work, for perhaps a few days, that I would get it: that I would be able to do this too; that the "latent ability" was inside me.

It was several years before I realized that the reason he does that work constantly, for all who ask, and seeks it out, and never falters in that, is because he must. Because we forget to remember. Every hour away is a time that a lifetime of habit and culture and perhaps more is pulling us the other way. It requires constant physical, mental and spiritual intent just to keep the connection at its present level. Same with conscious psi I guess.

To grow, perhaps we must "run faster than we can" as the red queen told Alice in 'Through the Looking Glass'. We must exceed ourselves. We must, in short, become--allow ourselves to become--more than we are at the moment we make the choice. And then we are a little bit more connected. And of course, we are also, just a little, someone new.


Journal fragment, July 21, 2002

Archmed on all aspects of my job. The arch was a big white bird. It had a ball & chain around one ankle and an anchor around the other. Boy that's obvious. I removed both of these but he was still stuck in this thick heavy gooey mess. I got him out and cleaned him and fluffed him and he just flew away! I never had an archetype go away instead of inner guide making it vanish, I didn't even think I was done.


Journal fragment, May 6, 2007

I had a session this morning that was hilariously assumedly offtarget (it was a lizard). But it was amazingly educational, someone in my head showing me how the same pretty complex data about form, dynamic, sequence, relationship, could come through to me in so many totally different ways. It's my ability to allow it and correctly interpret it that matters. The same data came as people, as 'biologicals', in a daydream, in a full-on 3D movie, as 'geometries', and as something I can't explain that managed to be information without being anyTHING, literally demonstrating that we don't have to perceive something we have no mental model for. We can perceive it objectified as best we can, and perceive the rest in any imaginable way, and still "get it".


Journal fragment, September 26, 2006

Me and another were on a quest to learn/find/become something. A man who was also some other kind of spiritual creature, he came to us and said something like, "OK, if you would learn..." And he slapped down this thing for each of us: small, red, glowing, yucky sorta, that we would need to swallow. The other person hesitated, but I grabbed it and ingested it as fast as I could before I changed my mind. And it changed me into something completely different. But there were 'cycles' of time or motion and with each, I saw more of myself on the surface, until by the end, I was all me again.

After seeing it was safe, the other with me ate theirs, but nothing happened. We both understood... it was too late. The courage was part of it. Because I had succeeded in this, I got to visit "the beautiful one"... some woman.

There was a man who had given up one of his organs (on death) and another man was using it now. The second man was on stage talking to people. The first man (who had given the organ) appeared, and he was a very unusual indigo blue pulsing color to me. He was so fascinated with the man who had received his organ that he wound his way closer to the stage, until suddenly he was right in front of him, so couldn't be missed. I wondered if this would cause the receiving man to remember something of the others' life?

Then I was "sitting in on" the experience of the second man on stage. He did finally notice the other man, but what he saw was nothing like what I saw. He didn't see the pulsing indigo blue color at all. He saw the man except with this symbol like the eyes and mouth seemed "grown over with skin" or something weird and scary like that, and he literally passed out! I worried he'd have some kind of heart attack or relapse just from the bizarre shock of it.


Journal fragment, August 13, 2007

{This was evening of Ry's birthday. Earlier that day I had said a prayer to the spider Deva, asking it please to have all its people get out of my house and garage, because we were going to use bug-bombs (mostly for fleas) that would kill anybody left. Ry slept with me. No big deal and I didn't think about it again.}

I was in a dream with Ry, and while we were in the dream, a spider deva arrived to talk to me.

Ry started to freak out, she's so afraid of spiders, but she couldn't helped be soothed by the Deva's effect: She was BEAUTIFUL. She was on this big web that sparkled like a diamond net in a starry night. It was awe-inspiring. She came closer and closer to us and I was telling Ry, It's ok. She's here because I just sent her a message earlier.

After a minute of commune with her I said to Ry, I see. She wants to know WHERE her people should go for safety. I told her to get them out, but not where they should go!

I woke up and remembered the dream, and I hope I got through to her they should be going out to the backyard. I imagined it from every angle above and around and in the house and physically said and pointed, too. Then I told C not to kill any spiders if she saw them in the meantime (on their way out).


Journal fragment, April 3, 2008

In a dream, I nearly died and was miraculously saved in some highly improbable situation, at which point, a man appeared. He attracted me, and yet frightened me, as if he were
physically powerful yet spiritually cold.

He told me I was the 'something', I can't remember the word, but it was a sort of messianic role.

I didn't take him seriously. I said with humor, "As long as this doesn't mean I'll have to die nailed to something, or be killed in some big focus drama, that's fine with me!" and laughed.

He didn't laugh. He said, "Actually, it does."

I was a little taken aback but I tried to be careless and flippant.

"Man, hate it when that happens!" I said, rolling my eyes and shrugging.

I fell asleep (in the dream) and found myself in a bookstore, browsing. I was looking to find a book that would help me with the issue of the man. "You have to *believe*," some part of me said. "Like when you're trying to manifest parking spaces. You have to believe that it's not only possible but *probable*." {Sounds like Nero, who often helps in dreams.}

I found an odd looking book and pulled it out. It was missing most the pages but some in back. The front of the book had embedded in its cover this oversized front of a cat's boney skull, like maybe some kind of wildcat (large). I blew on it to blow the dust off, and a star-shade began to detach. {That is how I perceive spirits-of-dead in remote viewing, as a cross between 'star' and 'shade'.} I realized a portion of the spirit of the cat had remained with the book, and maybe that was the point of it of course, but I also understood that it deserved to be free, so I kept blowing until it was fully released.

Later (now awake in the dream), I was flying home in a flying machine that was failing. A female teacher I used to have was worried for me, and asked that man to save me, even though she, in her ignorance, didn't know this man was actually my greatest threat and a scary dude. But he did save me from that, though I wasn't sure I wouldn't have been ok anyway.

But then he saw the book I had and froze. Demanded to know how on earth I had come by it. I discovered there were only four of these in our whole world and understood he'd been trying to come by it for eons. I also understood there was info in it that would help me, and that related to him, and to whatever I innately 'was'.

Then my stupid alarm went off.


Journal fragment, various dates

I found pieces of several dreams where a child who had tiny, or missing, or deformed, legs (always legs, sometimes body too), a child that was "mostly head", was being recognized, and we were calling it by some name I understood implied "a living god born on earth" to the East Indians.


Journal fragment, June 11, 2008

I wondered, why must be we have bad experience? Why can't we just learn from good experiences? Apparently this dream was a response to that. Sheesh I was almost sorry I asked!

Entities/aliens arrived at a planet and told the people they could make their lives so much better. They could make it so everyone was happy. And as a bonus, people could regularly (like a vacation) do anything they wanted, like be a rock star, or care for horses, or whatever they would find fulfilling.

Because the people were idiots, the promise of happiness caused them to vote it in. And nearly all of them were promptly removed to what amounted to a gulag. A tiny few were left to care for the tiny part of the planet that the people could still have; all the rest of the planet now belonged to the aliens.

They had a technology that worked remotely, based on frequencies. It It scanned the body and could find negative emotion, which was often paired with memory. And it zapped it. You couldn't have it for more than a few seconds before it would remove it and any memory it paired with as well.

Once every X period each person in the gulag got to go to the planet and be whatever they wanted to be. Like care for horses for example. The stables were filled with rotting corpses of horses not cared for, because nobody on the planet or visiting could deal with the 'negative' stuff that needed to be done. But once someone saw this horror, the memory was removed from them. So when they went 'home', they believed and told everyone of the ecstacy and beauty they experienced, because they could only remember the good parts.

On one occasion I watched this young boy fall into the river. A vacationer jumped in to get him out, but the pollution of the river and the stress of the little boy drowning was a negative, so the scanner got her and she forgot what she was doing right in the middle of it and he drowned. The father, who lived locally, was very upset about the death of his boy, but then it zapped his emotion and memory, and someone was pointing out that he had yet another son, so after a few minutes he felt happy enough.

It showed a woman who wanted to be a famous singer, and the camera and screen that was showing her performance was all trashed, beat up and half fake, but the scanner was taking all her negative response right as it happened, and so all she would remember when she went home, were the pieces her mind would sketch or piece together and make new sense of, of the good stuff.

The lesson was that not wanting to feel something negative was the most horrible nightmare imaginable. A people who had made that trade had no idea what they were getting themselves into. They were happy cows after that obviously, but it annihilated what they inherently were and all their potential, and they traded all freedom (and their planet) for this ridiculous, accurate but deadly, promise of "happiness."


Journal fragment, June 17, 2008

In a dream I was traveling and had about a week of layover. I was at a bar in the evening like at a hotel, talking to this man to the left of me. He was telling me that he was on his way to someplace I can't recall, to visit this man who was some kind of master, shaman or guru, for "soul retrieval". This guy, he was telling me, was the real deal, and it was all really amazing. I realized that this was not a coincidence that I'd met him. That I had to come up with a way to get to this man with him, even if it took my last dollar, because nothing was more truly important to my life. I had just made the decision when I woke up.

Letter fragment, date unknown, spring 2006 I think

Spontaneous psi isn't all that common but I usually dismiss it.

One day I was sitting at this contract job making an org flow chart, and as I moved a photo layer over in Illustrator I 'knew' utterly that this was the guy who really liked little blonde girls and paid big money to collect child porn his wife didn't know about. Now that was something I could have done without knowing! I shrugged it off. Couple days later I was walking to the store down the street of my tiny new town, population less than 900. I was thinking about whether I should mow the lawn or wait another weekend, when a beat up old farm truck (that describes nearly every vehicle there) goes rambling past. As I casually look past it--didn't even look at the driver closely--I had an intense "ping" on me of "knowing" that he was a Nazi, and I mean the old fashioned kind, part of a formal local group, and really ruthless. I went in the house and told L about this. I shrugged it off, probably imagination, and went out and mowed. During that just for quirks, L does an internet search and it turns out our tiny little town had a Nazi chapter of its own no less, they'd met weekly at the tiny firehouse half a block away from our house for many many years, until just a few months before we moved in (dunno where they are now). Course that doesn't prove anything about that guy, except to my gut.

Cats must find me. There was the time I called home (from work, an hour away) and insisted to L that I had decided I wanted him to go with me to the shelter right when I got home, and find us a grey tabby female kitten (my fave sort of cat). He says well ok... wait, wait, the dogs are going crazy.... and he goes outside, and the dogs are flipping out over what looked like a drowned rat and turned out to be a grey tabby female kitten (in the rain). I can't believe they didn't eat it--I'd seen them swallow huge gophers whole!! --what are the odds, I ask you? No clue where it came from. L (being a total airhead) actually put the tiny little soaked thing outside the fence where the dogs couldn't get it and tried to leave. It wailed pitifully until he went back and brought it in. He didn't realize until he got it dry that it was a grey tabby girl, about 7-8 weeks old. He named her Rene, for Descartes, as she would stand on his shoulder.

One time in Seattle, L never would shut the door right, and I had the baby in my arms, and sure enough the storm blows freezing mud-rain into the house, wakes up the baby, and nearly gives me a heart attack happening suddenly at 4am or so. I put the baby down, stomp to the door just enraged, and I push the door shut and just as it shuts and I am moving away, fury overtakes me (this thing with the door had happened so many times!), and I whirled around and hissed loudly at the door, flinging my fingre out in a point at it, "I OUGHTTA NAIL THAT F---ING DOOR *SHUT*!!" I felt better, and I picked up the baby and that was that. Except later when L went to open the door to go take a smoke, he realized... he couldn't. The door wouldn't open. I hadn't even touched the knob, nor did I slam it--I pushed it shut on the wood a couple feet higher than the knob and I had shut it normally. It was about 2 seconds after that, when I was a few steps away, that the rage hit me. He flat out could not get the door open AT ALL. It took three days and finally tearing the entire doorknob out (and going out the window to work on the other side from the balcony) in order to get the door open. There was no visible reason why. It was inexplicable.

There was one time I was in Oregon, sleeping on the floor at a friends' house. I was SO exhausted, having driven through the night. It was early morning, and I was on the 2nd story. Someone in the parking lot below was trying to start a car over and over, but it wouldn't start. I was ~50-60% asleep. It kept up, very noisy, then I was about 30-40% asleep. Then I just accepted, as I was half in the dreamy mode so not being very critical, that I 'understood' that the driver was a young man, that he was going to be late for work if it didn't start, that his boss had told him if he was late one more time he'd be fired, and he so sincerely and desperately was doing his best, but his stupid old car wouldn't start. I could FEEL his feelings of desperation and nearly crying in frustration. He would crank the ignition and it would do that nyuh-nyuh-nyuh-nyuh sound for awhile and then he'd let it rest briefly. Finally, I felt compassion for him, and in dream-logic, I just reached up with my right arm and stabbed my finger into the air abruptly and 'started it' at the far point of the finger, like BAM! ---No big deal. I was enough in dream to believe I could, but enough awake to be physically moving and acting on stuff in my reality. It started the instant I intended it to, and I dropped my arm down to the blanket and sighed in relief, but "felt" him feeling this UTTER astonishment--he hadn't even been trying to start it at that point! It just started itself! I grinned at that, at how funny it struck me that he was so freaked out, but I was SO weary, so I turned over and went back to sleep, and that was that.


Journal fragment, June 2008

Gosh I had a bad sleep experience last night. First, I kept slowing down to nearly stopping in my breathing, which is normal, I breathe shallowly. But when I haven't breathed for awhile, and my oxygen level for the heart/brain starts getting critical, my body brings me closer to the surface of waking and goes 'breathe!!' and I take a deep breath. That's normal. Except last night when I tried, I couldn't. It was literally like there was this pressure on my chest or lungs, so that when I finally needed to take a breath desperately, suddenly it was against me doing so. This happened repeatedly, while my body gave me instant dreams to try and help me, insisting that I breathe right NOW and take a DEEP breath. Weirdly, I was lucid enough to understand exactly what was going on, but my body was still mostly asleep.

I finally woke up, went back to sleep, and it happened again! Except the second time I woke up, after a lot of this, I felt like it was *personal.* Like it wasn't some inexplicable body thing, but that some person, individual, was actually attempting to target me at a moment matching that 'sleep apnea during sleep critical oxygen need' moment, and try to stop me getting the O2. I would die in my sleep, it would be ruled a heart attack.

I felt this so strongly, no matter how completely irrational and paranoid that is, that I determined to order a gel sleep apnea mask today online and start wearing the damn machine.

{This happened many more times for about a week. Then it changed and happened but differently for another week, and that continued, diff approach for a week each, for about a month, then it stopped for awhile, then picked up again, then stopped again.}

PJ

Archetypes: Universal, and Of Others

(I have a few posts here that have been in draft mode for a year or more that I thought I would dig out and finish.) I wanted to post about something that I've never heard anybody else address, but has had profound implications for me, experientially. I think since this original draft I've mentioned both these points but I want to do it officially in a way I can easily link to later.

The issue is: archetype work on other people's archetypes.

And: "master/universal" archeypes, as opposed to "your individual" archetypes.

I bet at least someone is thinking, "I never even thought of those differences, or doing those things." Uh huh. That's cause you're so much smarter than me.

It would be easier if many areas of meditation came with warnings. DO NOT PUT BODY OUTSIDE SUNROOF WHILE CAR IS IN MOTION. But they don't. So learn vicariously from my screwups if at all possible.

The archetype of "Power", for example, has three main categories in how you can approach it, as I'm modeling it here:

1. "YOUR" archetype of power. This is an individual thing, your relationship with that energy, and it has a certain degree of inherent energy. Archmeds usually "default" to this I believe, when you ask for an archetype, probably an IG-protective issue, or a subtle assumptive paradigm we begin with, or both.
2. "THE" archetype of power. This is a master/universal thing, not so much just your relationship-with-X as an archetype.
3. Someone "ELSE's" archetype of power. For example, maybe your friend Jim has a real hard time dealing with issue X, so you decide you are going to meditate on JIM's archetype for X. Or maybe Jim, bless his altruistic heart, thinks he'd like to do that for you.

Here is how these worked out for me. Maybe they will be different for you.

1. The first item is standard archmed work. This is what I do and I consider it true magick and fabulous. So I don't need to say much about that option. That's what we want when we go into these experiences: "My archetype of X."

2. The second item I got by accident. I believe my first IG allowed this to happen because my archetype-work teacher had actually once mentioned something about this and I hadn't paid attention. Things like 'being real specific about what you ask for, and how you ask for it', were real important to me then, and I think it was a good lesson. Certainly a memorable one.

All she said was something like, "Of course, you're not asking for the universal archetype of X, but for your archetype of X. The archetype will example your relationship with X, so if it's wounded, or dusty, or looks like an insect, that's direct information on that relationship." She did not say anything beyond that. She didn't warn me what NOT to do, she merely pointed out what we WERE to do. But I failed to pay attention to this as I should have.

Anybody who has ever done dowsing, knows that there is a rather bizarre thing about words. You can change one single word in a question, even though the question appears to still be the same question, and change your result. Perhaps it's that words are a form of energy on their own merits and, like a recipe, every ingredient matters to the outcome.

Nowdays I tend to outline my wishes or gripes or worries, and then let IG choose whatever combination of whatever she thinks is appropriate for the archetype. That may include things I've never mentioned, things I never thought of that 'underlie' what I'm complaining about in a different way than I expect, things SHE has an opinion about or wants dealt with, etc.

But when I began archetype work, I didn't know or have that trust with IG, and I'd come from a self-hypnosis background so was kind of geared to the 'specific command' mentality. I was very clear about what I asked for and how.

For example, here are some archetypes as I might have phrased them back then. I might still use this. The only difference now is my much greater allowance and assumption of creativity and wisdom I assign to IG in the process.

• My relationship with person X
• The problems I'm having in situation R
• My success at coming-event Y
• My lack of money, in general
• My need for object Z
• My archetype of concept K
• The pain/sickness/injury I have in body-part Q

If I were seriously working on a serious problem, I would come up with 2-10 different approaches to it; archetypes addressing a little bit of everything. Usually these came in obvious breakouts such as:

• My relationship with person X
• The problems in my relationship with person X
• My underlying issues in turn driving my issues with person X
• My lousy history with person X
• My ideal relationship with person X
• Person X's role as my _____
• My role as person X's _____

Do this in combination like this, particularly in a very altered-state, and I have never in the many times I've used this approach, or seen others use this approach, had anything short of staggering and damn near instant reality-change.

These are the possible results that I've seen with me and others:

• Person X changes so radically you seriously wonder who this stranger is and what has become of the person X you thought you knew. (Usually they are just so much nicer to you, so much less affected by negative energies, it's stunning.)
• Situation Y which is bringing you and person X together changes so radically that the whole dynamics of the relationship, as well as details, are altered. (One day they think you're totally wrong for the job and the next day some trivia occurs, you push a button on their computer, and they think they can't live without you. You get the idea.)
• Person X falls completely out of your life. They are suddenly moving away, leaving the company, dropping the relationship, or in some other way just falling off your radar completely. (I haven't yet seen this be "keeling over" but I don't doubt that is one of the possibilities and I just haven't run into it yet.)

Now, those examples were all of MY archetypes. Hey, maybe that's why I like shamanic work -- "It's all about me", hahaha!

That is not quite the same as a universal archetype. Not "my version" of Scorpio but some universal version. THE archetype, not MY archetype.

As I said, I think that this 'defaults to' the "my" classification, by assumption, by design, or by IG's help. But it does not have to, as I learned the hard way one day.

I had the idea that I wanted to work on the archetype of "performance."

I had a major, life-wide issue with this. Performance had been the center of my life since childhood, had been part of a huge crux-of-angst in me for years, and had been (unwillingly but resignedly) given up entirely. I didn't expect an easy meditation. But I didn't expect the one I got, either. I imagine (I never tried it again!) that if I had asked for my archetype of performance, it would have been "a difficult meditation."

But instead, I asked for THE archetype of performance. And as I'd just had this conversation noted with my teacher, about what we were asking for and I pointedly did it wrong, I think maybe my IG of the time was giving me "exactly what I asked for, but not what I wanted."

I had only a few seconds with the archetype. He was a tall black figure in a black cowled robe but made-of-outer-space (a little like the picture on the cover of the inner guide meditation book). His eyes were large and glowing red. He had a tall strong staff in his hand black like him and on its top was a spade--like in playing cards, that symbol-shape.

I was overwhelmed, impacted by his energy like it was a shock weapon that "whompfed" me like an air-gun and any second would finish destroying me. He instantly attacked, and I flailed backward trying to escape him as he yelled right in my face, leaning over me, Power! I must have power! I must have power! ...

I was body-wide reacting, on the floor screaming repeatedly, GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME! at Inner Guide when IG vanished him. Granted, only a few moments in. I collapsed in panic-breathing stunned shock, and then burst out bawling in reaction to the terror.

Yes I would agree that this archetype was clearly affected by my issues with that energy. However, that archetype felt nothing like any other archetype ever has, even the most powerful ones. It was like 100x the inherent energy. It's like going from an average 70-80 decibal radio to headphones with 140 decibals blaring through. I'd had all kinds of mind-blowing, powerful and amazing experiences with archmeds by then, but I had never met an archetype which on their own, just in the instant of first-encounter with them, had THAT kind of power.

(Interesting aside: you know, this actually kind of reminds me of the 'power' that I felt from the bad guy in that dreamy-experience I blogged in 'The Immortal'. No I'm not saying the archetype was a demon or whatever, just that it was that "level" of power. I mean it felt like it was so powerful that MY whole energy body would just be flattened, wiped out, solely by its proximity, and that if I interacted with it some critical mass of me wouldn't survive.)

My teacher told me that if you really get a 'universal' archetype rather than a 'personal version' of an archetype, and especially if that archetype is some common concept/symbol that has a zillion years/people of thoughtform, that this is the kind of experience that can result.

This is why some people doing archmeds without an Inner Guide have found them terrifying and dangerous -- or have even been literally screwed up, physically or mentally, from the experience.

IG has the total power in that realm and can protect you from anything, 'scale' anything or stop it if it's too much. That is one reason why I am a Steinbrecher fan, because I feel his chancing on this particular option and documenting it is so invaluable.

My teacher and I talked about my phrasing and her recent discussion on this and we theorized--just a guess--that because she had pointedly addressed that issue, and I had pointedly not done it right, that since I was constantly having IG-world experiences that were 'lessons' even based on daily life (the insight often covered much more than just the archetype work), that this was a lesson. I got exactly what I asked for. Next time, I should be more specific. I of all people should know.

I have never asked for the (or MY) archetype of performance again. Maybe someday when I am much braver....!

A short time later (few days I think), I was doing something over on the end table in my teacher's living room, and they had some little 'larson comics' thing (cube-daily calendar or whatever).

The interior of a pet store. A parrot is in a hanging cage up high. The clerk's desk is to the right. To the left, a large snake acquarium has a huge broken hole in the middle of its glass.

A pair of broken eyeglasses are visible. And a suspiciously pet-store-clerk-sized lump is inside the giant black snake, who is curled up sleeping peacefully on the floor.

The parrot, happily oblivious, is cheerfully reciting:
"Polly want a cracker. AAUGH! GET IT OFF ME! Polly want a cracker. AAUUGH! GET IT OFF ME!"

I laughed, on the floor crying, until I couldn't breathe, until I was in pain, until I had to rest in exhaustion, and then I went through it all over again. It was just so perfect.

3. Someone "ELSE's" archetype of power.

I had two experiences with this. One from being 'the person' so addressed by someone else doing the meditations, and one from being the person doing the meditations.

Once upon a time my teacher, herself experimenting with much of this, thought it might be fascinating to see if she could work on my archetypes "for" me. After all, she was a hands-on (energy) healer; she was 'reaching into me' already; was this not just another form of that?

As a person she was an unusually-good-listener, a compassionate sort. She was constantly 'healing' as a way of life. She had a great deal of developed trust/faith in 'the universe' to take care of her. She was a minister, and a counselor, as well as an energy-worker, and a teacher. She "re-mothered" me, or perhaps just 'mothered' me is the term given mine died when I was so young. It was hypnosis and past-life memories and spontaneous anomalous experiences that gradually put a crack in my skepticism and opened my mind. But it was she that opened my heart. She was nearly my opposite polarity, an airy Aquarius, although bizarrely enough, when we had our astrology charts done, even though the planets/signs/houses were completely different, the "geometric pattern" in the circle formed by the relationships was nearly identical for us, that was odd. I think these 'geometries' might themselves be a good archetype.

She observed the issues she felt I had as major challenges. I pushed people away in several forms. I was distrustful. I didn't know when to shut up, especially about negatives. I had issues with faith. With insecurity. She specifically requested MY archetypes of ____ to work with. She did this daily for a couple months, and usually we would sit together during this time.

By the end of that, I had changed radically for the better. She observed this with delight. Look, it worked! I appeared to have 'evolved' damn near overnight. The very issues she had been working on had resolved with a speed and completeness that honestly, was mind boggling.

But by the end of that, she had changed radically for the worse. I observed this with horror. I didn't make the connection back then to what caused it. She appeared to have 'devolved' damn near overnight. I did make the connection that as a surreal coincidence, she specifically seemed to have developed major life-size problems in the precise areas where I had so amazingly totally let go of them. I wondered about that.

I just didn't understand that this is another form of magick or shamanism. You sometimes hear of some yogi "taking on" something for a student and working through it for them. I was never sure I believed that was possible, personally. Now I do. She did not mean to, but look what we both learned from this: that is how it is done.

On the bright side, you free person X from that energy if you intentionally take it on for them and they allow this. On the down side, now it's yours, and not only is it just as hairy as it was for them, but worse, THEY already have a lifetime of adaptation with that energy, a whole system where it is "in context" -- and you don't.

So I was a walking-wounded, hostile, distrustful, sarcastic, faithless skeptic with a ruthlessly sharp tongue and a big mouth. I was many things, and those just happened to fit in the profile. She was a warm, compassionate healer whose whole life was based on faith, and whose primary quality was being an understated good listener for people's private concerns.

The qualities she took 'for' me were merely 'issues that needed working out' within the context of my personality. But within the context of HER personality, they were waterfall-disasters. She didn't just act out those issues as I did; because I had a life of learning to adapt to them and control them within reason and compensate for them. She didn't have those compensations in place. Worse, pretty much all her most powerful strength points were the ones that were now her most powerful problems.

The qualities that in me made a type-A, driven, ruthless left-brain skeptic, made her a monster.

She did not work through most of it, but rather, eventually, she let it go. It returned to me. And while this is likely not the only reason around that era, it's fair to say I went from being unusually well developed, spiritually healthy, openly psi and loving, filled with faith, constantly meditating, to suddenly being exactly the trauma-queen jerk with trust and skepticism issues I'd been years before--but that I thought I had "evolved out of". Actually I didn't, and I didn't deserve the credit for it. She had "helped". And when she or her own spiritual helpers finally dealt with it, and "quit helping", I got it back. It has been a very long climb back uphill.

So it was very bad for her. And while temporarily good for me, in the end it was bad for me too. This is not a practice to recommend.

I think if a person knew what they were doing and took a tiny, single point, and really tried to 'work through' this energy--I do not know how it's done, if you can fully, or what--maybe, just maybe, it's possible, and I only say this because of the stories about gurus in the east. But at least for us in the West, the bottom line seemed to be that although one can 'take on and allow to be taken on' certain energies, that in the end, everybody has to go 'through'; there are some roads you walk alone but for who is inside you; nobody else can do it "for" you.

The penalty for trying to live someone else's life at that level is that you get exactly what you ask for but definitely not what you want.

Which brings me to the next example. I had a friend who had serious heart problems. I loved him so much, and I wanted him to be healthy. One night while doing some prayer and distance healing on him (it goes without saying that one can only truly heal what the other allows of course--all embodied identities are sovereign), I had the idea that I would work on "the archetype of HIS heart problems."

The archetype scared me half to death. It was human... mostly. But something about it, and about its eyes, wild and feral, so frightened my body, more than my mind, that in gut-wrenching fear I backed away from it and left the meditation.

Which left that energy doorway open, as does not finishing any meditation. Oh, my.

I was 'haunted' by this human-ish 'monster' in my dreams. It varied from male to female. It was a werewolf; it was a horrible murderer. It ripped people to pieces in front of me, more blood and guts than I can imagine the goriest movie having, a visceral-level gut-response that is PTSD level hard-wired trauma. It made me watch while it tore them physically apart and when I cried and screamed and hid my face, it "stopped" the dream like a film, dragged my head back, forced my eyes open, zoomed in to a closer focus, and then played it again. Red red red red. And through it all was this horrifying guilt and getting-caught fear, as all of this up-close weapon-claws blood was always in some context where I was going to look like the one who'd done it and 'they' -- ordinary people -- were going to find out.

Now, stupidity might be genetic so I'm told, but I have no excuse for this one. The man in question just barely survived two full tours in Vietnam as a combat soldier. He was in every battle there you've ever heard of and zillions you haven't. He had decades of military experience and some of it was very.... very hairy. He's getting older now, but in the psychic dictionary next to "bad ass you don't want to f--- with" is this guy's picture. So how could I not have guessed that if he had heart issues it just might, mind you have something to do with the fact that he'd spent years of his life in horrible gory traumatic close-up violent combat?

I went back to IG after a week, crying, and begged IG to 'close the meditation and free me from the archetypal energies' of it. I was afraid to go to sleep at that point, it was HORRIBLE. IG did, and I was ok after that. I have not made that mistake again.

And even if I had been able to work with that energy, god only knows the effects it might have had in my personality, considering the effect that working with my archs had on my teacher.

So archetype work, at base, is exploring the universe "through" yourself. It is always YOUR archetype of-something. Not some universal archetype, some entity so powerful it nearly blows you out of the meditation. Not someone else's archetype, some energy you'd just be taking on and living (probably badly) with the consequences. But YOURS.

IG will usually do this by default, far as I know.

PJ