Archive for November, 2009

Ode to The Irrevocable Outsider

November 26, 2009

“The man who finds his homeland sweet is still a tender beginner; he to whom every soil is as his native one is already strong; but he is perfect to whom the entire world is as a foreign land.” – Hugh of Saint Victor

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Earth

November 24, 2009

Imogen’s got it.

Hall of Mirrors II

November 24, 2009

Something that I had meant to convey in my last post was that I have done terrible things in other lives, only some which I remember. I know this because whether I remember them or not I’ve had to address the karma and timeline issues that these incarnations have created. I won’t be focusing on or shying away from that kind of life in this post, but I wanted to make the point that I haven’t always been the hero, tragic or otherwise. As for why my other selves did these things, each case is particular and unique, but generally speaking, when you walk into darkness to change it you take a big risk of getting damaged, caught up in it and manipulated, sometimes for a long time.

One of the first lives I ever remembered came to me as a dream when I was a child. In the dream I was an even younger child and I wandered a great grassland under a clear moonlit night sky. Time lost all meaning and dawn never came. After such a long time I found a sodded hatch in the ground. It opened and I saw the first warm light of that life. It came from a lamp’s flame down in the earthen chamber below the hatch. The people who lived there took me in. They looked human and I realized that even though they looked different than they do now they were my family of my present life. Seeing them also allowed me to realize that I was different. I had the head of a buffalo and a human body. I lived with them for some timeless time, and I was happy because I was not alone. Still, something weighed on me, some responsibility that I had not yet understood. One day my family became very afraid and huddled in their little earthen home. I climbed the ladder and lifted the hatch out into the eternal night. A different night greeted me. The moon and stars faded, no blue velvet curtain of night. Just blackness, and a single piercing red star. There was a beam of red light, then nothing. As a child in my present life I bore the same weight that I felt the buffalo child carrying. It was a terrible weight that said “you are responsible for the world.” The buffalo child was there to heal that world in some way, but the red star cut that short. Being only a child he thought that the red star was what he was supposed to prevent, but he had no way to do that. It took me a long time to release that crushing weight and to realize that it was not meant for this world or this life.

I remember a life of darkness. I was bound by a negative intelligence, a malign force, though I thought that I was the one who controlled it. I remember dragging the girl into the centre of the torch lit chamber by her bound hands, into the circle we had made. I tied her to the peg in the floor. My spiritual brother of that life began to speak the words, half from the old books and half made up and we smiled madly. The king sat, uneasy, but we knew we had made him see this was the only way. I pulled the knife from the cord at my waist.

I remember an endless, predatory life. I was ageless and indestructible. I hunted the small screaming, mewling creatures of my barren valley. In another life I would have know them as human. Their stones and fists broke on my skin like rain. Only my own kind could hurt me and there was only one other left. We hunted each other as well because my kind knew no other way. Eventually the memories grow dim, faded. I don’t remember what happened.

I just remembered a life long, long ago, when I was very different. We lived at the forest edge of a great plain, me and my kind. Insectile beings, like wasps, with wings and bright yellow skeletons. We hunted small creatures in the woodlands with our talons and mandibles, but we were equally tied to the plains. Once every four or five years the females of our nest would fly out and find one or two massive buffalo like animals. They would chase the animals and subdue them with a chemical their bodies produced. When the animals were unconscious the females would lay their eggs inside them, like parasitoid wasps. The females would stay with them until they awakened and recovered enough to be safe from other predators, then they would leave them. After several years the growing young would begin to make a chemical that we could all smell. The whole nest would fly out at this this time to find the animals carrying our young. When we found them many of us would descend upon each of them and kill them in the sacred way that our ancestors had given to us. When they were dead we would free our young from their bodies. The young emerge as small predators, but have no mind like their parents until many years later. It was part of the ritual that the young had to find there own way back to the forest where they would hunt and live until their minds came to them and they could live in the nest. On their way many would be killed and eaten by other predators. This is part of the understanding between the spirit of our people and the spirit of the animals that bear our children.

Not In The Abstract

November 23, 2009

As much as I try to remember and to express that death does not need to be greeted with fear, there is a reason that we usually do. If I forget that then I’ve missed the point.

Hall of Mirrors

November 23, 2009

“So many people have known what they were fighting for was right, and history has judged so few of them to be correct. So I do not judge my actions to be right. As it is the nature of certain birds to sing in a particular way, it is my nature to struggle with the use of force, because I think it is to be struggled with, but it is also my nature to free the ensnared and to restrain those who would block their way.” – Chris, a comment on Initiation

One of the reasons I said that is because I remember being so many of those people. I’ve avoided talking about what I remember of past lives because it’s easy to turn that into something it’s not. It’s easy to think how many times someone remembers living means something about their life now. It tends to change the way a person looks at the world, but how you live your life is the only thing that should matter, one life or a hundred. I’m only going to write about it now because I feel like writing it.

My guides have told me that my soul has incarnated 145 times. That’s just an estimate. How do you count a life where you died as a small child compared to a life of thousands of years? I don’t remember many of those lives. I’ve incarnated with my present energy body 16 times. Not everyone carries an energy body though multiple incarnations, but many do. I remember more of the last 16 than the others, but not much. Most of the memories float freely of context. Most aren’t memories at all, just sensations, body images, day dreams. What it would feel like to have an exoskeleton, claws, bear children. The next layer up are the lives where only the most powerful events come through. I’ve died of suffocation more times recently than I like to remember. Then come the lives that I actually have a sense of identity from.

My present energy body was generated as a response to a terrible experience of enslavement 17 lives ago. My physical from was cut off from my soul, its mind enslaved and was compelled to hurt many people as a soldier and a thug. After that life my soul reabsorbed the energy body that had been so damaged and evolved a new one designed to defy separation and control. The only rendering of my name I have in English is Sleeping Decadence Warrior. My first life as this energy body was a foundation of the qualities it was designed to embody. I was a vast being, like a whale that swam through an ocean of energy, boundless, free and unencumbered. The next life I remember was my third. This was my energy body’s first life where it awakened to our true nature as an eternal being. We were a human woman. My mother was present as another woman my own age. The culture felt Indian, but only superficially. I have forgotten why, but I was angry at her and eventually realized that my negative thoughts and emotions actually brought her harm through their energy. I was horrified that I had done that unknowingly and this began my journey toward awakening in that life. I don’t remember any lives clearly in order up until my 13th. This life did not go well. I was on a different, very troubled planet. My mother and I were together again, this time working as awakened souls with a mission as we have many times. I had been given a very important task. Somehow I was responsible for concealing my entire species from an insectile race that wished to exterminate us. I don’t think there were many of us left. I was a spiritual warrior responsible for the fate of species, but I was also a two foot tall, floating grey ball of tentacles and I was very pregnant with my asexual offspring. I was also very frightened. The insectiles were much bigger, predatory and had better technology. Eventually they broke into the complex we were hiding in. I saw the people I cared about killed before everything goes dark. I just remember not being able to breath after that. They cut off the oxygen supply and I was trapped somehow. I failed.

After this energy body’s 13th life I was very damaged, but because I had accepted that mission and because of the state of consciousness I had achieved, I was taken somewhere remarkable to recover. I used to call it the 12th dimension, but that’s a different story. Eventually I was pulled out of that place by something that wanted to use me, but it had miscalculated and didn’t have enough hold over me to control me. Even so, having been violently pulled out of a world of light where my attachments and heavy energies had meant nothing, and thrown back into this world while only partially healed, I incarnated poorly. I was blinded by the negative and heavy energies I had absorbed from my pain and failures and because of this I took on an impossible task. I was some species of whale on Earth. I was trying to do something with them. Get them to do something that would prevent their deaths. I couldn’t get them to understand though. I died alone, drifting down into the darkness. Pressure, suffocation.

This brings us to the 15th life of this energy body. I was a white male human on modern day Earth. I lived somewhere in the Southeastern US and I was normal, or I tried to be. I’d had it. I couldn’t deal with cosmic crisis anymore. In a way this one of my favorite lives because I’ve so rarely had one like it before. He was out of work a lot as a young man. I remember walking around a lot, not really looking for work. He did Private Eye work when he was in his thirties, or he just thought about it an inordinate amount. He enjoyed the work, but he savored the noir detective feel of it more than he liked to admit, which is probably why I remember. He was married once. Had a son. Got divorced. I remember being to see his ex-wife and son’s family when he was older. Putting on weight and drinking a little too much. I still take a lot from that life. It grounds me in being a modern human and it actually helps my work thinking like a detective. You learn that no one is telling the whole story, whether they’re physical or not. This life helped me recover, but it also left me with some limitations. He consciously chose to ignore the call he felt from other worlds and used a limited material and human world view to keep the rest of existence out. When I wrote “I was shell shocked. I felt stretched beyond the limits of my ego. My soul carried all this lightly, but psychologically speaking I couldn’t take the rapid change in perspective” in my post Flux, it was a remnant of this personality that was strained.

This brings us up to life 16 of this energy body. Me.

There are so many other memories from so many lives. I’m never going to write them all down, but at some point I will post a few more that are really important to me.

Just-in-time Zombies

November 21, 2009

The End of War Crimes is an amazing, mind expanding, read over at SF author Peter Watts’ blog “No Moods, Ads or Cutesy Fucking Icons (Re-reloaded)”. The article primarily deals with the potential consequences of new technology that reads pre-conscious brain signals as a means of reducing reaction time, e.g., your gun decides when to fire based on your reaction long before your conscious mind could even have made the decision. The applications are obvious in a military context, but possibly the biggest incentive is harder to spot.

“All of this stuff is disturbing enough as it is. But White takes the next obvious step down that road. Just as Big Pharma cranks up its prices two days before the new regs kick in, just as the logging industry finds out which forests are slated for protection and then clear-cuts them before that legislation passes, the military now has an incentive: not to limit the technology, not to improve its ability to discriminate foe from friend, but to deploy these weapons as widely as possible:
‘…international humanitarian law would create perverse incentives that would encourage the development of an entire classes of weapons that the state could use to evade criminal penalties for even the most serious types of war crimes.’
So whatever you do, son, stay jacked in, keep online, because zombies— zombies can never be found guilty.” – Peter Watts

Near Death Free-style

November 20, 2009

Words, I have none.

Care of Dangerous Minds.

Sample the Collective Unconscious

November 20, 2009

Jason Louv writes trippy stuff on dubious pop-cultural post-humanity and the culty weirdness of Los Angeles. I enjoy both far too much.

Let’s Jam

November 20, 2009

Energy work is a lot like music for me, at least when it isn’t a terrible struggle. Sometimes I just want to jam.

Video of Guided Intuitive Energy Work

November 20, 2009

The purchase of a new laptop has allowed me to record videos. This one is an example of guided intuitive energy work, which is a large part of what I practice. I am working more or less on myself in this case. There is no rote plan that I am following. This is a process of sensation and guided reaction. I am experiencing fields of colored light, pressure, and more complicated dimensions of meaning that are representative of my own being and its coexistence with other beings. The process is generally one of smoothing out, straightening, unwinding and releasing.

The motion of my head is the physical manifestation of my process of attunement with the Music from Beyond the World. Though it appears strenuous I have never hurt myself while allowing it to occur.

Intuitive energy work becomes much more when two or more people actively take part in the process. It becomes energetic communication, the opening, potentially, of the heart, mind, body and soul to one another. Most people are too locked into one thing or another to experience this, whether that is left brain rational thought, their physical existence or a defensive response designed to keep others at a distance.