Sunday, April 12, 2015

Soul Weather

when i was a child, i had a strange dream.  at the time, i thought it was a peculiar but ordinary dream.  i had gone to heaven, but this heaven was just as a six year old with a box of 64 crayolas would make it out to be.  Every one had little halos, wings, gowns, harps, trumpets and floated about in a busy, bustling urban environment.  they were doing the most mundane of things like waving down a taxi or buying a hot dog or walking a dog.

i was confused, because anyone with religious influence in my life at the time made heaven out to be something grand and full of splendor; far too grand for the likes of mortal activities that we humans carried out.  i thought about it, and told a few adults, and their responses amounted to, "that's nice."

for some reason i was thinking about it in the shower today, when a song that had been in my head most of the day circled around again for another round.  It was "We Have Heaven" by Yes.  Somehow those two things clicked in my mind:

Heaven looked like the mundane world because Heaven IS the mundane world!!

That was no dream.  It was a vision!

What we experience here is exactly what we deserve: our just reward.  our karma is perfectly balanced in every way: the law of return is very real.  It makes our experience either Heaven or Hell.  Reality is innately Heaven however -- how do you think children are so happy?  They learn sadness and strife.

you are not a drop of water -- you are the ocean.  life flows like the water cycle. soul weather! imagine that!

Thursday, January 15, 2015

As Above So Below

I figure out the strangest things while I'm high.  And seeing as I'm trying not to be high anymore, these epiphanies will be missed.  The breakthrough I discerned on my last journey was expansive, and I think incredible. 

Each life is like a byte of information collected by the Oversoul in its construction of a program of some sort.  When we die the Oversoul collects the soul, copies the information gathered then sends the soul back out to gather data from a new lifetime existence.  We will always have access to everything the Oversouls has already copied.  Ghosts are scars left behind by a data trail before it could make it back to the Oversoul.  Sometimes they get stuck.

In the fourth dimension, time is a physical thing.  It is relative and malleable there, exactly as mass is here.  For time's arrow to be perceived as moving forward here, this time-mass landscape would have to be forever expanding -- like in a nuclear reaction of a type two supernova.  We are the by product of a four dimensional star going nova.  This means that eventually time will slow down and stop all together, but this could take eons.  We may have perceived much faster times in the past.

We are mere shadows of the fourth dimension.  As the time-mass is arranged there, events line up in sequence here.  We can move this time-mass with thought energy -- either over a long period or sending out a lot of thought energy in alpha state.  Thoughts radiate out from us, making our reality extend only so far from our aura.  This often overlaps other's fields, resulting in a consensus to different degrees upon an event.

The butterfly effect is essentially using one of these thought bursts to alter the past.  Because this influences only so far from the source, others perceive the event as if it actually occurred that way while the catalyst retains recollection of the prior reality.  Because it requires our endorphin receptors to be so high, changes occur in the brain similar to depression or addiction on a mass scale.  Withdrawal occurs when an overstuffed receptor suddenly ceases to receive the abundant endorphin levels it has stretched past capacity to accommodate.  With these receptors stretched out, less endorphin can be transferred.  Acute withdrawal lasts until the receptors retain some of their shape and shrink back down so it can pick up more normal levels of endorphins.  PAWS occurs when long term damage is inflicted to the receptors, taking monts to return to close to normal. 

To activate this state of alpha thought burst one needs to have theses receptors wide the fuck open.  Adrenaline -- which hits the same receptors as endorphins -- is the easiest way to achieve this state.  One has to do something drastic like jump off of a building in order to achieve ecstasy.  Many traditions have found other ways to achieve ecstasy, but it takes time and practice.

I haven't figured out why these receptors are so key to the process yet.  I'll get back to you next time I smoke up.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Truth or Convenience?

submitted to Witchvox on 07-08-13.  yes, i wrote this.

Truth or Convenience?
Questioning Motives for Spiritual Advancement

I envy Christians. I really do.

At the same time, I would love to hit some over the head with my Book of Shadows the way they try to hit me over the head with their Bible. They have it very easy when it comes to coming to terms with the Divine and how it interacts with themselves and the world at large. They have a big old book that tells them exactly what to believe, how to act and who to pray to when in question. It is largely up for interpretation by the individual, which makes for a decent, flexible system that can fit most that wish to subscribe to Jesus and his like. Lots of people like that.

They like it because it's easy.

Oh how I wish when I had a question about something metaphysical or magickal in nature that I could just open a textbook or consult a readily available “professional” on the matter and have an easy answer. With only One True God, its a simple thing to turn to Him and pray for answers, then sit back and wait for a sign or reply. I go to twelve-step meetings and bring up a question, to which my fellows' replies are simply, “Just pray.”

Maybe I'm overthinking things, but that almost seems like giving up on it. “So what are you going to do about that manipulative friend of yours?” Shrug. “I dunno, I'ma let God handle it.”

This limiting mindset makes accepting answers – be them right or wrong – a task that involves very little effort. When your God is always right and cannot be wrong, even when He doesn't give you the money shot right up front, you know He has the answer and might be withholding it for a greater purpose.

Things are not so easy with us Pagans.

Most of us subscribe to beliefs and thoughts that are not so straightforward. Most of our gods are a part of a larger pantheon, and those within that pantheon might disagree with each other. Some of us petition entities that have very different and sometimes opposing opinions about everything from the universe to the particular situation in question. The responsibility of not only interpreting the answer, but asking the right question to which entity in particular falls to us. Not only asking the right question, but questioning the very motive for asking the first place is paramount to our growth and faith in the Divine. This is a huge responsibility!

I have a lot of Judeo-Christian friends, and I love them and their faith dearly. Sometimes it makes me want to bash my head into a wall however, when I hear the reasons for their faith. “I was brought up this way” and “It's the simplest answer” are more common rational motives. It's as if no one really wants to branch out and explore the nature of what they believe in, simply because someone told them that “this is the only answer you need.” And with only one answer, there seems to be a complacency achieved that rivals apathy.

This problem is not purely Christian, though it runs rampant through the religion in the hearts of the casual worshiper (and even in the not-so-casual worshiper). A Buddhist friend of mine gave me some thoughts on transcending human nature, and I disagreed. So we had a good natured debate about it. When I asked him why he thought this way, his reply was that Buddha had come to that conclusion. “So what conclusion did YOU come to?” I asked. He told me that Buddha had already laid the groundwork so that others could follow without such a struggle. I suppose the same could be said about Jesus, but that really didn't answer my question. What conclusion did YOU come to?

I have read and seen for myself many times that the Truth cannot be put into words, or taught, or shown. It has to be experienced personally. The way to experience that Truth can be shared, modified and achieved in different ways, but the actual Truth (of which I claim no mastery over) cannot simply be given to someone, be it through a parable or a meditation. One can only see it for oneself, and anyone claiming to have the Truth to share, give or sell is a fool at best. I suppose the next best thing to offer would be guidance, but even that's sketchy due to personal bias. Someone may have made the trail, but there's still the whole forest out there to experience, and walking that trail only gives you the perspective of the one who's walked it before you. Beneficial, yes, but by no means the Truth.

It is my suspicion that people in general don't like the thought of being on their own, especially in something as vast and unknown as the Universe. We like the idea of some sort of safety net; a God that is parenting us and will fish us out if we get in too deep so long as we ask for its help. Someone who is forever there, will always listen, never forgets who you are and knows the master plan. Now that is something that is easy and comfortable to believe in.

What if this is not the case? I find it entirely plausible that the Divine is simply curious, doesn't know the future (possibilities perhaps, but not every outcome), forgets to acknowledge aspects of itself (much like ourselves) and can be outright indifferent, or even mean. I'm not saying that this is Truth, or even my version of Truth, but thinking about the Divine in that way can be a tough pill to swallow. Who would want to believe that, right?

Regardless of whether we want to believe it or not, it could be the case. In our quest for Truth, we may stumble upon an answer like this. It's not pleasant, so not many people want to take the risk of finding out that there might not be a safety net. I don't know about you, but if I want the Truth, I want to accept it for whatever it may be, not just if it makes me feel better about myself or humanity at large. I will not study the Divine for convenience, or because it makes me comfortable, or for a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. I'll watch the Golden Girls if I want that. I want to know.

I see people believing something because it doesn't require a lot of introspection, investment or effort. It makes me very sad for them. All I can do is encourage my brothers and sisters to learn from the actions of others, but act on their own accord. If we don't, all we're doing is reinforcing old trails, and not all of them lead to good places.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

In Inertia

There is a certain allure to the concept of insanity.  Perhaps people link that word up to another adjective like genius.  This of course is not exactly true, especially when you've seen and lived with the people I have.  I have a great gift, and not to share it would be a crime.  Not like a Bible-thumper, the kind that really think that if they don't save you, you're going directly to Hell (do not pass Go, do not collect $200).  And they don't want to see you burn, so they think they are doing you a favor.

I know this for a fact because I've been a thumper before.

I was nine, and my friends pushed me into Jesus.  Brainwashed even.  But no matter what kind of question I came up with, the answer always boiled down to "trust God."  Now I have faith, but not the kind that turns you into a Jesus-happy moron who will believe anything so long as it cites the bible somewhere.

Did you know that in the book of Exodus that "God" gives specific instructions on how to remove mildew from your home?  We don't bother with that anymore because of the invention of bleach.  Yes, bleach was NOT in the bible.  Is it evil?

Homosexuality and bestiality were also condemned.  Both were a great way to spread blood-bourne illnesses like hepatitis, chlamydia, siphilus and other nasty diseases.  Since the advent of condoms, this risk is greatly reduced.  Bestiality is still a no-no because animals cannot give consent, but so long as you're a human adult with a mental capacity to understand the consequences of sex with either gender, I fail to see the problem.  (This goes for pork, circumcision and other taboo practices).

We are clinging to teachings that do not fit the modern times.  The base is good, as Jesus was a wonderful man who had a lot of good things to share, but I'm less inclined to believe the power hungry males who translated his teachings.  They twisted them to their ends and used it as an excuse time and again to cause misery, pain and suffering for their benefit.  *glares* You know, the Crusades?  The Inquisition? The raping and dominating of an entire nation in the name of a "divine right" to acquire more land and money?

Shit, ninety percent of most holidays were based on slaughter and other unpleasant things.  Don't get your sweety a valentine, and DON'T wear green on St. Patrick's day.  What lies beneath disgusts and horrifies me.  We as humans are on a violent track to degradation of personal rights, because the billionaires in charge don't think they have a responsibility to this country.  The poor do too, but I'll bet you anything that if there was a bit more equality and responsibility towards money, 1% would not control 90% of the wealth.

there. all out now. /end rant

~Ghost out

Thursday, June 21, 2012

The Schizophrenic Pagan: Opening up the Mind

An article on mental health that I will be posting on Witchvox.  Rights belong to ME, so no stealing :)

Let's begin by making a few things about schizophrenia clear. It commonly involves psychotic episodes in which we hallucinate (usually audio or visual), have severe mood swings, unrealistic delusions and sometimes even black outs, losing hours to days at a time. This is often accompanied by a paranoia or a disconnection from reality. Sometimes it involves multiple personality, but most of the time this is not the case. Some people mistakenly think that we schizotypals are sociopaths, which is not always true. I hardly think I would have made it this far with Wicca if I couldn't feel empathy.

My problem is what most with some sort of mood or psychotic disorder has: what's real and what's crossed wires in the brain?

It is a real and true challenge to fully understand our position with the divine. Many of us claim to be speaking with God (rarely have I met anyone who claims to be speaking to a Goddess), or other voices that belong to several beings. Demons? Faeries? Those who have crossed the Veil? All of which are commitable offenses to the mental health community, but when this sort of thing is the norm in a commune within a circle (or outside the confines of one in many cases), drawing the line between psychosis and reality becomes monstrously difficult.

Perhaps it has something to do with how we are incarnated, how receptive we are to astral happenings and how our minds are equipped to handle such encounters. For me, having a conversation with a dryad spirit is just as real as speaking to a fellow human being. What you would see is some nut-job chatting it up with a tree. Tell me that doesn't sound crazy.

Someone once told me that to tell the difference between spirit noise and internal chatter was to try to figure out the motive of the voice. If it tells you to hurt yourself or others, it's psychosis. I’m pretty sure I disagree at least a little. Our Shadow Selves often berate us with self doubt and sometimes detrimentally harmful advice if not handled properly. It's not all rainbows and farts on the other side of the Veil you know, though some of the more “fluffy” aspects of Paganism would claim that only positivity could be found in a true encounter with a spirit. Hey, every sect of belief has some bad eggs out there, and I think it would be foolish to assume that spirit folk don't have any themselves.

So how DO I tell the difference between astral entities and voices in my head?

It's not easy, it never has been and probably never will be. First thing I do is ground and center, then I check my aura and chakras reaction to the voice. If it is attached to me by a chord or within my own energy field, I can safely assume that its merely mental chatter. Even my Shadow Self has its special place in my energy field, and I keep tabs on it closely. If the entity is not a part of my own energy field, then I can assume that it is separate from me, and can be reasoned with to depart (or share some thoughts on whatever might be an issue that day). It could mean the difference between lighting some incense and candles or casting a banishing circle, opinion of the voice pending.

I by no means discourage people like me to not take their medicine, but its interfering properties can sometimes throw me for a loop. Ever hear that expression “My mind is so open my brains fall out?” I can feel that those of us with some kind of psychotic disorder have this problem. We are too receptive, and like moths to a flame, both internal and external forces are drawn to our minds. Things get pretty tangled up in there if too much is going on, and it can be dangerously overwhelming.

Learning to channel that energy properly is key to sorting out the chaos of the mind. Talking with faeries is fun, but there needs to be a line drawn between those mischievous things rearranging your sock drawer and a paranoia of someone actually messing with your belongings. A little research might be in order. What kind of faeries like to move things about to get a rise out of you? Is there any other evidence that eludes to having any of the fae in your household? Perhaps simply asking them to leave you alone might be in order, at least until you can sort out exactly which energy is where within and without you.

Some would say listen to your intuition on the matter, but what most don't realize that schizophrenic folk have nothing but doubt in their minds sometimes, and no amount of reasoning can make one believe one thing over another. There very well may be a guardian angel in your presence, but on the flip side demons are a very real thing, and most are self generated into a life of their own. Not to say that they are nothing but evil troublemakers, some of my best advice comes from beings of a lower vibration than myself. Just like with people, their words need to taken with a grain of salt.

If it is determined that a being is separate from yourself and its presence is unwelcome, some banishing spellwork might be in order. Again, the difference from a malicious spirit and the Shadow Self may be hard to distinguish. Either way, making allies with either of them could prove beneficial. To face one's fears – as irrational as they can be with us schizotypals – can prove to be a strengthening of sorts. Taking control of the illness can be aided greatly with a firm grip on whats real and what's not, a protective circle (even if its just to make yourself feel safer) and possibly the correct medication combination. Be wary of what you put into yourself, friends; antipsychotics tend to deaden some sixth sense perception as well as everyday emotion. I suppose its up to how open you want your mind to be, and what you can handle as someone who is mentally ill.

As for me, I’m still working on that reality boundary, and will probably struggle with it to my dying day. But I like to think of it as a challenge. I am incarnate right now in this body with all of its merits and flaws, and I must make the most of it if I want a degree of happiness. To open one's mind, sometimes you take in the good as well as the bad, and our job is to sort out what is a healthy dose of fear and a realistic take on happiness.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

The Reaper Chapter Five

Chapter Five

“Are you … alive?”

It took me a minute to really answer. My body felt like it weighed exponential tons. I couldn't see who was inquiring because my back was to her, still hanging from the branch.

“No,” I finally said.

“What... what's going on?”

“Let me down and I’ll tell you,” I told her.

The girl climbed up the tree and after struggling with the firm knot I’d made, released the belt's hold on me. I collapsed to the ground in a heap, my arms and legs tingling. I looked around and found myself at that accursed ocean still. But now there was a pull … a longing. I saw the boat and reached for it weakly. I had to get on that boat. The urgency of it was strong.

“Where are we?” the girl asked. I could see her now as I sat up, weak as spaghetti. She was young with long brown hair and dark eyes. It started to click.

“On the shores of Styx,” I answered, taking off my mask as Marcus did before me. I handed it to her, who looked both confused an intrigued. “Here.”


“You are my replacement. Just bring them here. They know the rest.” I rose, still shaky, but that goddamned boat was calling to me. Like not getting in it was not an option.

“Where are you going?” the girl asked.

I thought about that answer as I boarded. “Where I belong.”

“Wait, am I supposed to do anything? I’m so confused.”

“I was too at first, but now that I’m dead it makes more sense. Here.” I handed her my keys.

“What is this?”

“My apartment and car. They're yours now, do as you will with them.”

“You killed yourself.”

“As my predecessor did before me.” I started to row. “See you.”

The girl waved wistfully, as if she were trying to sort the whole thing out. I didn't care. I knew where I was going, and nothing was going to hold me back anymore.

“I'm coming, Airian.”


The Reaper Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I suppose I didn't have a single regret regarding Airian until early that spring.

“Why will you not let me see my friends?”

Airian stomped her foot. “Dammit, London you hardly pay as much attention to me as you do your friends!”

“What are you talking about?! I’m balls deep in love with you, there's no contest about that!” I yelled. “It's not like dividing my attention means you'll get any less from me!”

“Whatever. You get around Seth and you ignore me!”

“That's not true!”

“It IS and you KNOW it!”

“Airian, what's this supposed to be about? Do you want me even more up your metaphorical ass?”

“Fuck you, London!” she cried, grabbing her jacket and making her way to the door.

“Please don't do this,” I pleaded.

She walked out.

I followed.

“Stop! Airian!”

“Leave me alone!” She stormed out into the crosswalk.

“AIRIAN!!” I called in alarm.

Too late.

I don't know if the driver of the car was drunk or what, but it slammed into her at about thirty miles an hour, sending her up and over the vehicle. I heard her bones crack. I saw the blood spray. I saw the last look in her intense eyes … fear.

I was told she died instantly, but I don't think she did. I sat in the emergency room for an hour before they told me. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. All I could do was go home and grieve, and grieve hard. My stomach felt like it had dropped right out from under me. I couldn't take another conscious breath with her gone. How could I continue without her love? It was like I didn't know what I was missing until it was ripped away, goring my heart open and bleeding tears of despair.

I didn't go anywhere or do anything for three days. Good thing no one needed to be escorted, or they would have been left hanging. Fuck them. Nothing meant anything without Airian. They sky was duller, the food was blander and my life was carved right out of my chest in an instant.

It was like a splash of cold water, waking me from my darkened afternoon slumber. I knew that feeling. A sense of dread washed over me as I looked out my window and down to the graveyard. A hurse.

And Airian's mother.

I was paralyzed for a solid minute. How? How could I take her to her end? She was my wounded heart, and my duty was the salt. It stung like hell; I bit back more tears. I didn't know what to do.

With a sigh, I pulled on my coat and mask, then made my way down to the burial site.

It was brutal, the churning of my chest. There she was, sitting on her own gravestone as they lowered the casket into the earth. She looked up at me and seemed mortified. I stood next to her for a long time without a word. We waited in silence for everyone to leave – an agonizing hour. I didn't want to talk to her while she was watching her family mourn her.

Hell, I didn't want to even be there at all.

“So it's true,” she said softly once we were alone.

“Yeah,” was all I could say.

She looked over to the thick fog that only we could see. “I never thought that this would be the way it ended.”

“Nobody does.” Silence. “... … Were you in pain?”

Airian shook her head. “Only briefly.”

“What's it like?”



Airian thought for a moment. “My whole body went numb and swept up to shut down my brain. It's the only way I can describe it. That numbness ejected me out of my vassal … and here I am.”

“Does time mean anything to you?”

“Not now.” She kicked her feet a little. “This is a blessing you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Who gets to say goodbye to the love of their life before they die?” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can tell you that I’m not mad at you. It was a stupid fight. I would’ve … should've … I don't know.”

“You don't have to do anything now but rest in peace,” I told her. The mask shielded my expressions, and I was grateful. I didn't want her to think I was suffering to the extent I was. One less thing for her to worry about on her trip beyond.

I held out my hand. She took it and we walked slowly towards the fog, the last time together we would ever have. I tried to hold on to the moment, but every second slipped by no matter how I tried to lengthen it. It wasn't long before the sound of waves breaking on the surf could be heard. I had grown to dislike the sound, but now it was unbearable. We stopped right before the water, where the rickety old boat awaited.



“I love you.”

“I love you too. But it's time to go.”

“Just a little longer?” I asked quietly, more to the forces that controlled the dead than to her.

She shook her head. “No, it's time for me to go.” She smiled hollowly, something she did when nervous. “I won't lie to you, death scares the piss out of me.”

“You said you thought the unknown was exciting.”

“I lied.”

We sort of giggled anxiously.

“You know,” Airan said sadly. “My mother used to tell me a story when I was little and my puppy died. The waterbug goes up to the surface to see why when one went up, they never came back down. As soon as he reached the surface he began to change and was a beautiful dragon fly before he knew it. He tried to go back down to tell the others that there was nothing to be afraid of, but he couldn't. He just had to trust that one day those he cared about would join him.”

“I've never heard that story.”

“Maybe you can pass it on to the next corpse that comes your way.”

More nervous laughing, even though I was ready to collapse from emotional exhaustion.

Airian boarded the boat. “Goodbye, London.”

All I could do was nod and wave as she rowed off, never to be seen again. My heart broke a thousand fold, so I sat down in the sand an sobbed like a little girl. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. My eyes ached, my throat burned, my nose ran. I didn't care.

At last I rose and started to make my way back through the fog. A twisted, gnarled tree stood, alone in the gray dunes. I stopped and leaned on it, then undid my belt. I noosed it around my neck and climbed up, wrapping it around a thin but sturdy branch. I hugged it for a while, debating whether or not I wanted to continue living.

Finally, I allowed myself to fall and the noose took my life.