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!
Sunday, April 12, 2015
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
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.”
“Huh?”
“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.”
END
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?”
“What?”
“Dying.”
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.
“Airian?”
“Yeah?”
“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.