December 12, 2018 was a big holiday in Mexico - the celebration at The Basilica de Guadalupe, Mexico City. A huge holiday for Mexicans. For Catholics, this is the pilgrimage of the Perfect Virgin Holy Mary Mother of God, and for the indigenous or non-Catholics, she represents Toci, the Grandmother of who we all Are.
For the people of Mexico it is the blending of their two traditions, for me, it is one step closer to the story I am chasing, the vision I am chasing all the way to the eventual destination of Tikal, Guatemala. The story of Toci, our eternal Grandmother of Who We Really Are, the story of the coming of the conquerors, and how despite the suppression, Toci still remains in our hearts, ready and waiting for us to rediscover and resurrect into our beings.
What follows is my own mini-pilgrimage on October 12, 2018, two months ago at the Basilica de Zapopan, next to the city of Guadalajara; and a translated version of the story behind the Virgen de Guadalupe.
For my 39th Birthday today; and because I have very few friends to celebrate it locally; I decided to do something a little different. Instead of honoring ourselves, how about we honor our parents?
My third day on the walk was short. It was very tough going as there was a lot of steep uphill. After the blessings of yesterday; I had to learn to find my own pace and harmonize with my backpack and surroundings. In this, I discovered a little secret about myself. Read on for more!
My second day on the road tested my trust issues; and my distrust of those that seem like trickster personalities. The actual Rutas de Peregrino starts today and sets the precedent for the rest of the journey! Read on for more.
Let's start off the trip right with a giant pizza, that I almost ate all of - 2 squares were leftover.
The first day on the pilgrimage walk to Talpa brought up old wounds about acceptance as I walked the 16.4 km (10 miles) west to La Villita carrying a 40 pound backpack. I am off to a great start. For details, read on!
I've been quiet about what I have journeyed through these past several weeks. Last I wrote, I was going through a hermit stage; oftentimes thinking I just needed a cave out in the wilderness - with WiFi, hahaha!
Things have not been *quite* right since my time in Standing Rock in December of 2016. For a few months, I was going through what could only be described as "Post-Standing-Rock Depression". There will be several of you out there who also went that will be familiar with what I speak of. I had trouble re-integrating back into my life in Albuquerque. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if I would have went towards Chicago instead; with the intent to walk the "Camino" in Spain?
One thing that was really bugging me was a semi-physical sensation that I felt 24/7 - it would be at the base of my skull in the back, and it felt like millions of tiny ants biting away at me. The sensation would be very subtle, but it was enough to be noticeable and bother me. It would ebb and flow, increase intensity, decrease at-will. It was most prominent in heavily urbanized places. My nickname for it is "interference". I did not feel this sensation before Standing Rock. I just had a feeling that it was always there, but I was not conscious of it until I experienced all that I experienced at Standing Rock. I also saw that there was something I would call "Cultural Contamination" everywhere. From our food, to thoughts, to our reactions, to our thinking. I later learned from the activists I was meeting with that this was called "colonial thinking" or "imperialist mindset" or "oppression mindset".
As the months passed by, and I lived a low-profile existence inside a small trailer at The Source; I started to look at everything in my life; the people I have interacted with; the concepts, beliefs, truths, and realities that I was exposed to and even took on board; they all suddenly seemed not-all-right.
It was like looking at an immaculate painting; with many details done with love; absolute beauty that only a masterpiece could be... except it was one millimeter off on the canvas! Inexplicable, you say! I would agree; after all, how can a painting be OFF on a canvas?! It always is where it is, because it is a creative endeavor, not some scientific or mathematical thing.
Thing was, I could see a faint impression where that painting was to be, and where the actual painting was, it was off, creating a strange overlay effect. It just was not right for me. No truth, no reality, the people, the concepts, the beliefs - none of them were quite right. I started to reject all of it; but with no alternative to go with. The off-ness was so subtle, that anybody else that looks at it will not see what I see, and at the time; I could not see this well enough or even articulate or put into words that others could understand; that I could even understand on an intellectual level.
In Feburary, a friend at The Source (Janice) was giving free mini-sessions for a day, and I took her up on it; and the reading basically said that I knew how to directly connect to the Divine; and that I knew the difference between this connection and the connection to spirit guides, angel beings, etc etc. I was to connect to the pure unconditional love of the Divine whenever I needed it and that I already knew how to do this. I did not quite understand or make much use of this at the time, since even though I am told I knew how; I consciously did not know how. I had experiences of this but could never really do this on-demand. In hindsight, I am grateful to Janice for giving me what turned out to be the second hint of what was about to happen down the road.
Another (now former) friend (Renee); has had several conversations with me about co-dependency; being conscious about my words; being mindful of others' situations when speaking; and basically was telling me that I could be doing so much better and that I know better. The last couple of interactions turned into an angry expression. Same theme - I am told that I am XYZ and should embody it; but that is far from where I am actually at. There was much resentment on my part because I am being admonished for not being the person I am supposed to be. It is as if people only had an idea of me; instead of actually meeting me for who I am. I have had several people in my life that also did this; including my mother. Despite my anger and resentment towards Renee; I do have Gratitude towards her because those were indeed areas I found I desired to work on; not towards what her idea of me is; but rather my own version of it; while holding a middle finger towards her.
After getting back from Standing Rock, I got involved with the local activist / social justice efforts in town, as President Trump was now in the Oval Office and many people got involved to try and change things. We Are One River; Divest Bernalillio; and Indivisible Nob Hill. After a couple of months, I realized that there were multiple layers at play here; that it was a lot like pro-wrestling in the 1980's, where the conflict and sides were contrived, and it was just a manipulation from the "higher ups". Puppets controlled by the puppet-master, who in turn are also puppets to yet other puppetmasters; controlled by yet more, and indirect puppet-masters; and in turn ultimately controlled by a yet unseen, unknown puppet-master(s). I then knew that this was not the level of role I wanted to participate in. I asked the Universe to guide me to the place where the right at the highest levels of the manipulators / puppet-masters were at. At Standing Rock, I made a commitment to do my utmost to be one of many planetary guardians; and asked the Universe how I might best do this - the answer came back was to continue to work on myself and along the way, the connected stuff will come along. So I withdrew from those three groups and went into hermit-mode.
The summer started and I had plenty to be distracted by. I was working with a client that I will refer to as "horse man" that needed a series of tech-work. A summer that starts with intense allergies versus Juniper and Mulberry trees. I never had these allergies before, and it was hitting me really hard. I had a Pranic healing session with Rita who did some really intense and thorough cleaning work on my body; which significantly reduced my allergic reactions to those two things; but I also developed some sensitivities to some artificial products, food items with artificial ingredients, etc.
I also needed to leave The Source and get back into roaming mode again; as well as a need to be away from the more urbanized parts of the city as that "interference" was really driving me nuts now. So I spent three weeks house-sitting for two people in more remote places; then I ended up staying with a friend in her spare room in the South Valley.
There was a nice little event in the beginning of June, which I describe as New Mexico's rendition of Burning Man by the local spiritual, metaphysical community called 3SidedWhole. I went up twice, and on the second time, it was a day excursion with another friend, Susan. While there, we were drawn to a tent display with a bunch of Crystal Skulls. I looked at a few that I felt drawn to; and one of them was made of "Red Obsidian". At the base of this skull was a curved area, and I suddenly thought, "That curvature is the exactly the same as the bald spot on my head!" So, I put that skull on my bald spot; closed my eyes; sat down; and started breathing with the intent of sitting with this Skull.
Suddenly, there was this hazy image of a surface on an immense building and the view of it was shifting, almost like a pan and zoom tour. I looked and started to focus in, and the view focused and I could see glyphs and subtly delineated tiles on the surface of this building. The glyphs were mathematical in nature; and there were many of them on this building. I suddenly realized that I knew many of these glyphs! I recognized them from the vision I had as a thirteen year old - The Immortality Formula! The tour continued and revealed more and more of the structure; then ended after a while later.
I opened my eyes and related this experience to the lady who was minding the tent. She told me that I described Tikal in Guatemala. I was thunderstruck. What are the chances that I would have a half-baked vision about a place I have never heard of or seen?! The last time this happened; was four years ago when I beheld the painted art of flowers that reminded me of The Immortality Formula. That inspired me to leave my life in California and journey for 5 months across the country to meet the artist and study her work further in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Here it is again, a half-baked vision and that feeling to go journey. It is time to resume my travels.
I ended up at a house party hosted by Dr. Blue of 3SidedWhole a couple of weeks after that event; and during that time, they served some sacred mushroom tea. I never had the opportunity to partake in that particular kind of plant medicine; and I had been curious about it. With many prior warnings from friends that I need to be around people I could really trust; I sat with a young woman I had only interacted with a few times and felt really comfortable with.
I started to feel really relaxed, which is a familiar sensation to me; and felt a prompting from within that things were about to get extremely rough; but that I have spent many years training for it, preparing for it. I felt apprehension at first; but was too relaxed to actually act on that feeling.
I started to fall asleep; and felt the sensations that I was entering dream-land. Suddenly, a really bright light was shining into my eyes, flooding it with bright absolutely blinding light; piercing every cell in my eyeballs, the light reflecting from the walls of my eyeballs, so I was immersed in all forms of light. I tried to move my arms; only to find that they were tied to a rough metal chair and I found myself firmly planted into the chair with thick and large zip ties; and my calves were similarly zip tied to the legs of the chair; and the chair itself was welded to the metal floor.
A large shadow stooped in front of the light. I could not see the shadow; but I felt the anger, malice, and cold intention. Pain erupted from the left side of my jaw and I lurched to the right. I felt cracking in my bones. Another pain eruption from the right and I went to the left. My arms were straining against the chair as I moved; involuntarily. Pain slithers harshly across my arms as they chafe against the zip ties; despite how tight they were against me.
"C'mon, tell us what you know!"
I stayed silent. I had no idea what they were referring to. I suddenly remembered that torture is not used to extract actual truth; it is to coerce one to say whatever the torturers want you to say under extreme duress. There was no point of speaking.
Mechanical whirring revs up and the shadow steps away and a clear look at a long drill bit replaces it. I see glints of light reflecting off it and I can see it clearly. It stays in front of my field of view for a moment.
There was pinpoint pressure against my right leg, just above the kneecap; which quickly evolved into a penetrating sensation of pain that pulsated outward from that point through my entire leg. It bored deeper and deeper into my leg; rending flesh asunder; with no resistance. Pain now flooding my entire being. Oddly though, this was nowhere near as bad as my father's precise burning of my finger. That pain melded with my rising anger. Anger which promised to return it to the torturer, ten times as intense. The more intense the drill pain became, the more I screamed in anger, letting that pain merge with that anger, and letting that anger build into intent of retribution.
I felt an exit hole from underneath my leg, right next to the underside of my knee; and felt the drill pole schlick up to the hilt of the drill. Burning flesh smell wafted up; not unlike pork. The drill was quickly withdrawn; blood and flesh bits with it.
I was disappointed that the pain did not increase; because I wanted to increase my anger and potential for retribution. My eyes burned from the light; merging with my anger towards the torturer. I stayed silent; focusing what pain and anger I could retain into that intent.
I felt disappointment from the shadow; who clearly was expecting something different. In an effort to build the anger anew; I ground my teeth together and focused all the anger into it. The shadow withdraws and momentarily returns with objects in both hands. A hammer and large blunt chisel; rusted to perfection.
The chisel is jammed into my left leg, midway between my groin and knee, towards the bone; quickly followed by a quick and precise strike by the hammer. Duller, yet jarring pain whistled out of my left leg; followed by a huge booster as the hammer drove the chisel home. I felt bone break; and by this time, this pain simply joins the flood of pain throughout my entire being. I no longer needed to grind my teeth; as the pain and anger threshold got an abundant refresh and I had no trouble packaging it into the intent of retribution.
Frustration from the shadow. Clearly I was not offering the outcome it needed.
What came next was a hail of hits, kicks, strikes delivered all over. An attempt to beat and obliterate me into submission. These did not touch the intensity of the pain and anger I already had. They came as icy pinpricks that bounced off the surface of my sensations. Pick. Pick. Pick. Pin. Nothing.
Somehow the chair is torn from the floor and now tipped over and I am on my side. My legs in pieces, my arms a bloody pulp and mess; and my body in an unknown state. The shadow leaves, the light clicks off, and I am left in the cold, metallic darkness; with just jagged breaths from myself to accompany me.
I had won. I am still alive, though in pieces, but still alive! I realized that I was prepared; as I faced my worst fears of what might happen; and it was nothing comparable to what my biological father put me through. All that training paid off. I was ready to face whatever may come next.
Electronic music somehow faded into my consciousness and I opened my eyes. I was whole again. I could move. I had no blood on me. I looked left. No pain. I saw a tall lanky guy in long dreadlocks playing some electronic rig which was where the music came from. I slowly swiveled my head right and there was the young woman I sat with, deep in trance. I was also not tied to the chair with zip ties. I felt an odd sense of silent, void peace come over me. I had never felt this before. It was so empty and silent that I was fidgeting. I had no idea what to do with this sensation; I could do nothing except immerse in it. It felt wonderful. For the first time in my life, I felt confident that I could move onto whatever would came next. I was back at Dr. Blue's house party.
I had mentioned in a long post earlier this year that I was about to navigate through a long, dark, place that had low chances of survival; not unless I prepare adequately; and that I was looking forward to forging a new kind of story. I feel ready for this. This is the end of Part 1 of 5 of my journal for 2017 thus far - Da Setup. More to come! Thanks for reading this!
It has been quite a while since I had any inclination, inspiration, or energy to write. Today, I have some of that, but more so, a desire to express something that is bugging me today. This is a long post, so consider yourself advised. :-)
Today, I woke up to the morning sun filtering through a hanging crystal, shooting prismatic light all over me; and I realized; I don't have a social life, and very few friends. Over the course of about 5 months, I have become a hermit again.
Sigh, and so in the ever present push / pull that is my struggles with the idea and feeling of friendship, kinship; I am on the "pull" phase. You would think that by now I would have made up my mind and picked a stable place in this particular continuum between hermit and social butterfly...
At the moment, I am being hit pretty hard emotionally - a hermit that desires to hang out with friends on a regular basis that is deeper than what you would get at a party. Yet, I see several channels of thoughts followed by action that have led me here; meaning it is my own damn fault and intent, haha!
A week or so ago, I was also in my "I hate humanity!" phase which is one of those channels. The core frustration that begets this phase is my continued frustration with not being in the flow with others in a group setting.
Let me explain: When I am in a group conversation, there is a certain flow or momentum going on, people are having a dynamic conversation, no interruptions, something is building up and everyone is going towards it organically. Oftentimes, I end up interrupting this flow because I am out of sync with this, either in thought, expression, or the others are saying their pieces and there is no gap whatsoever for me to chime in so I often then say past stuff WAY after the conversation moves on; or I chime in but accidentally interrupt somebody else (this happens very often) as they chimed in half a word prior to me. Other times after I share something, there is this awkward silence, and either the conversation moves on as if I said nothing; or it lingers and basically someone else has to restart the flow. It is not just present in conversations; it is also present in activities, such as dancing, or even helping out in an event, or even in a meeting. I don't get how this human dynamic works, how to get into it, how to go with it, none of it. A serious source of frustration. It also does not help that I also have hearing problems, which amplifies this issue.
As a result, I have a lot less desire to be around others in a group setting. The only group at the moment that I am less frustrated with in this regard is a cuddling group that happens once a week where there is no focus on talking, and the dynamics and flow aren't as intense. There was another group that is similar where we gathered to simply color and/or socialize; but at the moment I have not been participating in that group.
Another factor in all this is that lately, my longstanding trigger I have has been happening all over the place. Whenever I start to care about someone else past a certain level; I will start to have the emotions of intense hurt, jealousy, anger, and sometimes resentment whenever I am near that person. Another situation that brings up the same trigger is when I see people being loving towards each other. It used to happen with certain people; but lately, it has been happening everywhere. I am actually Grateful for this development because it helped me realize that it is NOT because of my relationship with certain people; rather, it is something in me that wants to be addressed and it is now affecting all relationships with anybody I care about past a certain point. I disfavor feeling this way, and have fears that it is transparent or perceivable by others, so I tend to avoid that situation - with obvious results towards being a hermit.
The third factor or channel, is that I grew up moving around very often, so I had to uproot - terminate friendships, start new ones, over and over again, and it had two results. One of which was that I came to love travel and value discovery, wonder, and getting to know a new environment. The other result is that "friends" became a disposable thing to me. The uprooting thing has continued to persist into my adult life, long after I stopped being raised by my mother; so unconsciously, whenever I meet new people, I tend to accelerate how much I share, or get to know them, but then stop at a certain point because if I develop it, it is just that much more painful whenever I leave that place; they move on; or they drop out of my life or we become de-synchronized. There were a few times when I have attempted to develop things past that "acquaintance" point, with people in a professional environment; or an actual friendship, only to find out later on that they are suddenly not friends, or non-responsive to me when I reach out. There have been a few friends that I also forcibly disconnect from, thinking that "oh crap, this is going to hurt later on, may as well get it overwith now!".
A fourth channel is, oftentimes I will perceive that I am not a friend's priority, or first on their list of people they would like to greet, or talk to. This is rather painful, so what ends up happening is that as a defense mechanism, I will not greet people first, and let them greet me first. There have been times when I greet someone, only to get a response that the greeting was not in kind, or an afterthought - I never know when somebody REALLY wants to talk to me as a friend. By letting others' greet me first, there is no question on whether or not they really want to talk to me.
Finally, a fifth channel that results when the other four are in play and I am well on my way to hermit mode is I start to get anxious again, and conversations with others become awkward. Then, I just do not want to talk to others, even when they want to talk to me, and I will keep the interaction short.
It looks like a pretty exhaustive list that makes me want to be a hermit doesn't it? Yet.. illogically, and just as annoying, I *want* to be social, have friends, to not be a hermit, and it is intense enough that I can't just be a hermit and shun humanity. There are times when I do love humanity, and see all the wonderful benefits and growth that happens when I am around others.
What I have done in the past was that I would become a work-a-holic; and that was my second thought this morning - that I have been immersing myself in various forms of work lately. Back then, the result of doing that for several years was that I became a miserable person, and it was one of many factors that forced me to change up my life, and hence the pilgrimage.
Pah, I say!
So, anybody doing anything fun tonight, or want to hang out?
It is really funny, just when I thought I was ready to move on to Neale Donald Walsch's 2nd tip for a simpler life, the Universe gives me a profound experience in relevance to death to add! So, allow me to indulge you further with the recollection of this experience.
On Saturday night, I found myself locked out of the place I was going to sleep at night, and temperatures were going to be low, and windy. I found a spot that had just enough room for me to squeeze in and sleep standing up, and although it did not offer any warmth that was any different from the outside, BUT it did offer shelter from the wind, and therefore windchill. There were several thoughts and other events that led up to it, and I am beginning to understand that one of my "spirit guides" as would be phrased is the thought-form / concept that many would refer to as "death". What I experienced I only had a pre-infant level of comprehension, and a high level of awareness. It was as if I was still in the womb, but was spiritually aware of what was going on in the larger scheme of things.
THE SURROUNDING PIECES AND BACKSTORY
For the longest time, I felt that the things that I have been doing, especially things that I do the hard way, or learning the hard way was simply training, long-haul training in preparation towards doing something significant and life defining. Every little thing I did was training, even stuff I dismissed because it was like building a large Black Ship from scratch, - plant the trees and other plants to grow the material to make the tools, which are then used to make the small boats, the docks, the rope that are then in turn used to make better tools and shipyards, to finally build the ship. That kind of training. Okay, end of this piece.
Back in September, I spent some time pondering and feeling through a revelation I had where in order to honor free-will of all beings, there had to be multiple realities going on at the same time; and that we were in the middle of a major reality split where a bunch of realities would have the planet and its spirit being become paradise and reach a higher level of existence; and another bunch of realities would witness all the catastrophes and major reworking of things that would yield a significant reduction in the world population in the short-term. The prophecies of the Hopi tribe also tell of this reality split. The training I was putting myself through SEEMS to also be preparing for a life after this reality split is completed. Okay, end of this piece.
A month and a half ago, I found myself downloading a game that was never officially released in the United States, but was created in Japan, and applying a fan-made translation patch that translated it via hacking into English. As I played it over the course of several weeks, it relayed a story where the protagonist leads a normal life that suddenly changes to where things felt a little off, and starts to question it. There is a major conflict going on that affects the whole world, and one king of a nearby kingdom is spearheading the war against a force bent on complete domination. At one point, the protagonist enters that kingdom and hears that the king never seems to sleep, and is constantly tending to the war. This turns out to be true, as we come to find out that the world is known as the DREAM world, with strange holes all over that lead to another world, which we later know as the WAKING world. In the waking world, the same antagonist also exists and is waging the same campaign to complete domination, and that there are places in the WAKING world that were destroyed by the antagonist, but still exist in the DREAM world. Throughout the protagonist's adventure, they switch back and forth in between worlds. While the protagonist and king are SLEEPING in the WAKING world, they are AWAKE and doing their thing in the DREAM world. While they are SLEEPING in the DREAM world, they are awake and doing their thing in the WAKING world. Basically they are progressing on their journey while interweaving between both the DREAM and WAKING worlds. I strongly responded to this game, because I felt the same way - I often felt that I was never sleeping when I thought I was sleeping, and that there is a part of me engaging in something where some of my efforts were going somewhere else. Okay, end of this piece.
There was this movie called Pitch Black / Chronicles of Riddick where the protagonist, Riddick is thrown into a prison for essentially being of a race of gifted beings that were perceived as a threat to a dictator of a different race due to a prophecy foretold where he would be undone by a member of this race; so this dictator uses all the resources at his disposal and murders every single member of this race, and destroy their homeworld. Riddick is the sole survivor. While in prison, Riddick happens upon a strange hermit who promises to gift him with night-sight in return for a trivial favor. The sight Riddick gains allows him to see in pitch black, and it is demonstrated that he "sees" a strange amalgam of black and white while in pitch black, and his eyes had turned a luminous purple after this operation. Okay, end of that piece.
I read an article on Facebook a while back where a former priest was interview where he revealed that the Church's concept of Hell was made up to keep people in fear. I agreed with this, given that I see different understandings of Hell, depending on where someone is at with their spirituality. The Church's version; a dense and difficult place where one is suffering more often than not due to their heavy mood; the idea that we are in our own personal Hell of our own making when we suffer, and where we are not suffering more often than not; and then a lighter state where one does not perceive an existence of Hell. Okay, end of that piece.
I've had my fear of fire for as long as I can remember. When I was three, my 4th finger on my right hand was exposed to flame from a gas stove for a prolonged period of time; punishment for trying to destroy the steroids my biological father took in pursuit of his bodybuilding. I did this in hopes to rid his physical abuse of my mother and myself. I had an experience that led to a profound vision where an old woman who could see many things beyond what typical eyesight could see, had her eyes burnt out by fearful villagers in hopes that she would no longer see "too much". There were times when I had desired to relive the pain I felt from that disciplinary pain, whenever I was in a lot of emotional pain in order to find out what was on the other side. There was even one occasion of this desire where I had asked my friend to act as a "second" in case things got out of control. I still have this curiosity to find out what is on the other side of the pain of fire. Okay, end of this piece.
At some point after my fire-discipline from my biological father, I was having a field day with my collection of Lego building block sets, and had left them all over the place. He was so furious with me (I think he stepped on a wayward piece), that he introduced a new punishment for this occassion. That evening, after the usual beatings, he directed me to stand next to his bed, as straight as possible, with arms akimbo (out to the sides, palms straight out, facing down, reminiscent of being nailed to the cross), and to remain in that exact position the entire night. Each time a muscle twitched, moved, or if I made any sort of noise, he would lash out at me physically. He went to sleep with a stick in hand, and like a kneejerk reflex, anything out of me was met with an immediate, swift and sharp *smack* of the stick. There were many *smack* moments, and I eventually fell asleep, having gotten used to the stick, as it became part of the routine. Okay, end of that piece.
There were three occasions this year where I ended up sleeping outside when the temperature was going to cross the freezing point. The first night, there was a LOT of wind, and I started to lose feeling all over my body - toes and fingers first. I also had a harder time keeping them moving in an effort to keep warm. Just when I felt I was losing the last dot of feeling sensation in the core of my body, there was a sudden pin of intense, yet comforting warmth, similar to the kind of warming sensation the consumption of alcohol would yield, in the same spot, and quickly radiated outwards, returning full feeling as it went outwards, until I had full sensation again, and was able to fall asleep for the remainder of the night, until I woke up at next dawn. This first time, I thought it was a fluke experience. The second night it happened, I was getting the hint that I was not going to freeze. The third time, I was still uncertain that it would happen again, but took the chance and after that third night, I was sold on the idea that I was definitely not going to freeze at this stage of life. Okay, end of that piece.
A friend responded to my previous peace reflecting Neale Donald Walsch's first tip to live a simpler life; with a warning to me that the portal between this world and the other side of death was open; and to be careful in that regard. Little would I know that I would jump right in, head first.
On Saturday evening, prior to being locked out, I was at a Winter Solstice celebration over at Tammy's Edge Salon, which was called "3 Wise Women" event. It featured some healing services, readings, belly dancing, potluck, and some firedancing by the bellydance performers. I was watching the firedances and was imaging the same kinds of dance but different intent - to become the essence of fire, and envisaged the flames moving on their own without the dance-aids, moving in tandem with the dancers. Serpents of flames twirling, circling, enfolding the dancers without burning them. Dancers and flames became one and danced in celebration of that kind of transcendence. I watched with a mix of fascination and fear - being reminded of that gas stove and my finger.
THE ACTUAL FORAY
After leaving the "3 Wise Women" event, I got a ride to the place I was going to stay Saturday night, and by that time, it was nearly 11pm. I went to retrieve the spare key from its hiding spot only to find that it was not there. It was about 34 degrees F (1.1 degree C), and rather windy. I started to look around for an improvised place to sleep, and the only place available was a shed filled with tables and other knick-knacks. There was JUST enough room right behind the door for me to squeeze in there and fall asleep standing up. The last time I fell asleep standing up was when my father introduced that standing sleeping discipline. I had brief flashbacks to that time as I processed how I was sleeping that night, and thinking that there would be no improvement in the temperature aspect, but at least the wind won't be a factor to my cold. I got in and closed the door.
I could not tell if my eyes were open or closed, because no matter how much I moved my eyelids and eyes, there was no change in what I saw from said eyes. I moved my hands back and forth slowly, and rapidly - no difference. When I was outside, I could see the predominant color - a certain shade of purple that was actually the night sky with cloud cover, reflecting the streetlights of the city. I had a real hard time distinguishing anything else other than that predominant color, but at least I could see movement, or tell when my hands moved. I also tested my bounds.. there was just enough room to move my right hand and forearm to reach the doorknob and open or close the door. There was maybe an inch or two for my feet to move inside, but not enough room to turn sideways or completely around. I was leaning against a folded up table. All I could do was try to close my eyes and fall asleep. At least I did not have to have my arms akimbo, and there was nobody to hit me with a stick if I twitched. Even if I DID move my arms, there was not enough room to move them SOMEWHERE - what a punchline!
Pretty soon, I started to feel the familiar sensation of losing feeling in my body, toes, feet, hands, fingers first. Here we go again.. and it got really cold and numb for me. My right ear was beginning to ring again, and the ringing slowly started to increase in its intensity. All I can do is trust that I will not freeze, and it was safe to fall asleep - just close my eyes (I think) and sleep.
I started to see blotches of slight purplish and white glaze in my field of view, and these blotches would change size and slowly shift positions and movement. I was used to seeing these by this time - they started two years ago, after I had my first meditation experience. I watched them idly, with nothing else to do, nothing else to feel. Then I started to feel subtle, yet distinct differences in gradation in correspondence to the blotches as PRESSURE against my eyeballs. Where there was a lighter shade of purplish white blotch, would be increasing pressure on my eyes - and the sensation matched exactly what I saw. So, I am able to see AND feel these blotches exactly.
The blotches then changed shape, merged, disappeared, flow in places until I started to perceive a place of sorts. I had no idea what I was seeing, everything looked so foreign. I still heard that ringing in my right ear, and it was pretty loud and grating by now. I decided to test if I was "seeing" after all, so I lifted my right hand, and waved my hand slowly waved it across my supposed field of vision. I felt and saw an outline of my gloved hand go back and forth my field of vision - so it was black, outlined in that purplish white color, with soft edges and gradations into black otherwise. I FELT an exact corresponding map of the same thing with the pressure against my eyes.
Things seemed to get more refined as I kept witnessing - shapes became more defined, a bit sharper edges, patterns - not like anything in my current existence, but there were patterns that suggest that this was not a random fancy of my eyes. The hand waving thing confirmed this earlier. I then got more scientific and started to move my head left, then right very slowly, and saw more, which revealed more of itself at the same speed as my head moving and corresponding field of vision changes. I swiveled my head several times, changing the speed in a methodical manner, and saw a consistent and 1 to 1 corresponding ratio of changes in my field of vision, and as my "gaze" swept over the same areas, I also saw certain things again in the field of view, consistent with witnessing something consistent in my current existence. I stopped and placed my head back in its center position and angle, and started to slowly move my head so that my field of view would create a square, moving clockwise. The changes in my field of view changed correspondingly, and I started to comprehend that I was looking at a different place.
I still had no frame of reference - what I saw was very foreign. If you look at a page of written English, then a page of say... Japanese, the Japanese page is going to look downright foreign. What I saw and was able to comprehend felt exactly the same way - where were the shapes and curves and angles and lines that I was familiar with. There were no such things! I waved my right hand again to see if I would see my hand overlaid over what I was seeing, and sure enough, it did. I was beginning to become downright FASCINATED with what I was witnessing. Next, lets see if there was any sort of correspondence between what I was witnessing, and where I was at "in real life". I reached out with my left hand and felt for the shed door and doorknob, tracing the shapes, and looking at that hand to see what I would see. Sure enough, there was.. something that tracked with the door in real life - except it looked NOTHING like a door. I had no idea how to describe what I saw, much less words to assign to any aspect to it, no matter how much I try to dissect it into little pieces mentally.
By this time, I noticed that the ringing from my right ear had stopped increasing in intensity, and was now staying constant, and I head some sort of background noise .. ambient, yet distinct sounds, but distorted in some way. I was suddenly thinking of what it might be like to be witnessing the world from inside my mother's womb - and what i was witnessing with my "sight", pressure "feelings" on my eyes, and hearing seemed to make more sense. I certainly was perceiving and comprehending on a pre-infantile level. I repeated my head movements, with an attempt to map what I was seeing - and all I could ascertain was that I was perceiving some other environment that had correspondence of sorts to the space and place I am at in my current existence. I looked for what seemed a few more moments, and decided that I was going to see if there was a "me"...
Suddenly, a faint blue line came into my field of view and I was looking at the doorframe outline where the right edge of the door would be, a dark azure line going down amongst black. I brought my left hand to that outline and could see my gloved hand like I would in my current existence. I was back, and it was dawn.
I was feeling that familiar intense warm feeling all over my body, and that I had full sensation functionality; but it was still really cold. I reached for the doorknob and turned it - rather stiffly, but still managing to turn it, and opened the door. There were the familiar surroundings of the place I was staying at the previous night. What seemed like a short period of time in this other place, I daresay this other WORLD, and apparently the whole evening had passed in my current existence.
What was THAT? I was reminded of Riddick's eyeshine sight - I decided to nickname this see and feel thing "shadow-second-sight". Is it another world, the shadow world that has correspondence and mapping to this current existence? Suddenly, it's like something out of the game I downloaded and played. Am I a participant of two different worlds, and that I am really not sleeping at all? Do I have a body or identity of sorts if this was another world? So many questions, a confirmation that I do indeed have a pre-infantile comprehension of what I had just experienced.
What does this mean, really? Did I just get a preview of that next version of that Hell - where Hell does not exist in my field of experience, but instead, I witnessed a dichotomy consisting of this world, and a shadow world? I know "shadow-second-sight" and "shadow world" are really crude expressions of what is actually there; but I got to start somewhere.
I numbly fumble for my phone in my left pocket and checked the time - 6:34AM. The nearby coffee shop will not open for another hour and a half; so I shut the shed door and just continued to lean against the table I was leaning against and bide my time and recount what I just experienced. Eventually it was 8AM and I ambled my way over to the coffee shop.
As I sat with a large steaming brew of coffee, I looked out the window towards the Eastern sky and noticed how super bright it was - the New Mexican cityscape was looking really cold, being bathed and lavished with wet, soft, yet passionate kisses on every nook and cranny from the overly bright, overly rich-spectrumed reaches of the sunlight; and I am reminded of the numerous pictures of Casablanca countryscape and how it was bathed in intense yellow light - light that melts away the coldness of the night, and brings out the inner warmth of everything it touches with these kisses; until all is aglow in mirrored intense yellow-light.
Life is so interesting right now! After two years and three months into this pilgrimage, I have come through full circle; when I did not know I was going in a circle in the first place. The beginning of this loop happened nearly three decades ago when I first found myself emotionally isolated. What I mean by emotionally isolated was that I could not relate or connect to anybody at a satisfactory level due to my limited eyesight and hearing. I would feel like I was left out of the loop, and not know what was going on at a given moment; which led to frustration, loneliness, abandonment, and being relegated to a sub-class of a group. At some point, I found ways to simultaneously numb myself of these feeling, and finding other ways to connect with other people. Now, 29 years later, I have come around again to observing the exact same issue; the exact same feelings; and another opportunity of making a choice once again. The only difference is, I am aware of more possibilities, my feelings, my story, and of myself.
I've been in Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA for nearly 10 months as of this writing; and quite a bit has happened during that time. I have not updated much because of the frequency of events that have occurred and the number of initiatives I am currently involved in.
It is approaching time that I start writing again in order to help put all my thoughts, feelings, developments, and idea to form. I have spent time re-doing this blog to iron out some bugs that have cropped up over time. If you wish to see the older entries, please visit the Old TPT Blog. You can also sign up to get updates via e-mail whenever I post a new entry to this blog so that you do not have to check here every so often. I am still accepting donations on this blog to help continue my pilgrimage, support my writings, and other creative outlets.
I just wanted to share that at the moment I am in Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA at the moment, and have not had consistent internet access. The website requires a constant connection to the internet, so I have not posted in the past five weeks. Things are going well and there is much to tell.
Thursday is a day that started out being frustrating for no discernable reason; to a bit of disconnection from my higher self; to reconnecting with someone I met recently; to a very odd but satisfying flow - meeting a couple of new friends; like splashing into a nice chill-out session helping with an activity; then ending with a fantastic "energy conversation" that was intertwined with conventional conversation with one of the aforementioned new friends.
Proudly powered by Weebly