The Ninth Door: Materianimus

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Since 2005 I have been solving the 64 Doors. On a rainwater lake in parallel~dimension Malaysia four huts on stilts house 64 puzzles waiting to be solved. Each Door presents me with a challenge related to my current stage in life; honing the skills most required to traverse non~physicality. It is a more simplified version of myself that I create, increasingly emptied of the unnecessary baggage of false thought I have acquired. The more empty I become, the more lightweight, the more control I have over what I create.

The lesson that all Doors have in common is trust in myself and the path I have chosen. In my version of this universe, I have chosen physical matter as the medium with which I mould challenges for myself, both beneficial and detrimental, in order to discover the unique way in which I wish to advance ever~onwards through eternity.

In my version of existence, I am the extension of an energy that takes many forms, both physical and non~physical, as part of the purpose of experiencing infinite possibility. Energy re~creates itself continuously and at will can, through me, mould its own physical matter to serve its own purpose. It, through me, only needs to create, but the baggage I have taken on blocks the frequencies it uses to flow through me. Thus, it is up to me to clear those frequencies that the full flow of source energy can move through me and carry out our purpose.

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When I fully buy into physical life as concrete and immovable, I embrace the illusion that anything is “out of my hands”, and that the suffering of this world is for nothing. To accept responsibility for the suffering in my life as having been tailor~made for me, by me, is to release myself from the weight of helplessness and victimization, and to accept freedom.

It is also the permission I give myself to create! It was only when I was able to come to this conclusion that I could begin to know contentment right here, right now; not depending on whether my life became something else that seemed more “successful” or “pleasing”, but exactly as it is in this moment, for all its pain and pleasure. It was only when I began to fathom this knowledge that I could be part of the solution, instead of a continuing part of the problem. It’s a daily process, to be sure. The Doors give me a place to practice remembering that, like they, physical life is also moldable.

The Ninth Door experience was initiated several weeks ago by a nightly visit to another world I explore; the solely~flora planet, Stillevarden. I’ve been exploring this “still world” for willowsseveral years now, directed by my master Dap Ren. Recently I’ve been walking the Coarse Shore, so named because of the coarse grade of the uniform quartz (?) sand beneath my feet and the strange, dark and lichen~like patch of trees along the beach. This particular night I was suddenly catapulted to the 64 Doors. I sat down on the bamboo dock, remembering that it has been a year+ since solving Door Eight (the Window and the Mirror in the post The 64 Doors). It always seems like lifetimes between these solvings, but it’s rarely longer than a year and a half.

I fell asleep anticipating what this new Door would teach me, and questioning myself. consumeSo much questioning cycles through the initial phases of a solving; generally involving whether or not I will force events and images to be created with my ego instead of allowing the process to unfold naturally. Control of the mind and the ability to focus attention here and now are the greatest of all practices we can undertake in this life, as preparation for the Next of Things. Living on Earth is only part of the journey. In Eternity there is no final destination.

It didn’t even occur to me that night that I was essentially asking my sleeping self a question: is it really time to solve the Ninth Door? As so often happens, my dream ninedoorquestion was answered. I found myself before the Door, the first time I’ve ever visited that place in dreams. The wall surrounding its Moorish~styled archway, leading into thick, dark green leaves, was made of concrete.

I woke that morning with a start and realized that it was, in fact, time! Always so exciting, even in my nervousness and lack of faith in myself.  I always question whether or not I’ll somehow fail or come to a dead end, unable to move forward~~as if such a thing is even possible.

I had time that morning to lay in bed. I was curious as to why the wall around the Door was made of concrete when every other Door I’ve ever solved, be it open to darkness or made of wood, sits in a jade door frame and surrounding wall. As usual, my first instinct is to think that I, myself am conjuring what I am seeing, moulding my surroundings to my idea of reality instead of allowing reality to be what it is. It’s a game I play with myself, thinking that I’m not “worthy” of the task. Part of remembering the process is to learn to trust myself over and over again.

Night after night I went to the concrete wall and stood before it. I’ve learned that it is best to stand quietly and simply observe to keep the mind from attempting to do something, as our minds are want to do. I touched the concrete, felt the cool of it, noticed the small bubbles and pock marks that dotted its surface. Night after night I went and stood before it until, one night, my thoughts won.

‘I wonder if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing? Maybe…building a jade front over the concrete?’ I thought about concrete and what it symbolizes: rough, abrasive, rigid, unnatural structure i.e. man’s influence on nature. Jade is the opposite. It is soft, smooth, nature~made. Unlike the jade door frames on the other Doors, this concrete doorway was rough and sharp.

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Just for fun I researched jade and where it is found, interested in the discovery that certain forms of jade are found in Malaysia. The next time I went to Door Nine, the concrete had turned green. I chided myself for altering its reality by thinking there was something I had to do, as opposed to sitting quietly and allowing things to happen organically. But night after night, the concrete wall remained green. Anything I attempt to force the creation of eventually disappears. This consistency was an indicator that I could trust what I saw.

After about a week or so, I noticed jade welling through the concrete in liquid form. When I touched it, the parts of it that were hardened were warm. There was nothing giving about the softer parts of it as I would have imagined. It felt more like glass; nothing I could push my finger into but still soft somehow. Because of my interpretation of concrete as being man~made, I began to feel as if what this wall was trying to tell me was that I had some part in creating the Doors…and why should that be such a bad thing?

Previously I had believed that this lake already existed on some plane or dimension that anyone could go to if they knew how. In the initial visit to this place was a message in the form of a poem, which said “One day dream this place with me,” as if everyone should go to the Doors. What I know now is that the poem means that each of us will Go to our own place, a place perfectly tailored to our preferences and needs. It impresses upon me again and again that the rigid thought structures we hold against mystical or astral experiences as “made up” or “false”, part of mental illness, miss the point completely. If something helps us, it doesn’t matter whether it is “real” or not. The proof is in the proverbial fruit of the tree. If your beliefs create joy in you and cause you to affect others positively, they are of the Source. If your beliefs continue your suffering and the suffering of others, they are illusion.

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I used to be a zealot, believing that my path was for others and that I needed to prove that fact to them, but over years I’ve come to quite enjoy that this path is mine, alone. Each of us lives within our own worlds, and learning to trust our own worlds and lean into them is to lift us from the heaviness of hot soil and human thought. One of my sisters is a Christian and another is a Buddhist, yet we all experience the same lessons simultaneously, much to our constant wonder and excitement. We share what is similar of our paths, and find common truths in each other as fresh, new points of view. It is incredibly satisfying!

wp_20161225_15_32_04_pro_20161225164053Sitting on the dock before the Door, I looked down the forming wall to notice that there were no other Doors there but the Ninth. It occurred to me then that I’ve never actually looked at the entire side of one of these huts as a whole, I’ve only ever looked at the single Door I was entering. For the first time ever, I leaned to the right and looked down the wall at Doors 5-8. Though I’ve explored the lake, swam in it, skated over the surface of it and along the line of willows bending there, and walked the white~sand path through rice patties to the village of the Dreamtribe, I’ve never lucidly explored the building in which these first sixteen Doors sit.

While the wall’s jade was forming, I began earnestly observing rainwaterthe hut, its Doors and the surrounding area. Listening to the lap of the water against the large poles holding up the bamboo dock. Watching algae wave on the surface and seeing long, dark plants rocking in the movements of its murky green depths. Listening to the wind in the trees. After about two weeks of exploring in this way whenever I got the chance, the wall was done and cooled and the Door was open.

The leaves of the rainforest beyond were large, almost completely masking a cloudless blue sky but for light gusts of wind that barely revealed it. The leaves are none I’ve ever seen before; having five parts like a star but with squared off ends. I felt a nervous anticipation, wondering if I should simply walk through the Door or what to do. I leaned towards the leaves and felt as if I would fall in! It seemed almost as if the Door was looking ninedoordown into an endless sky. I thought about the meaning behind the concrete; our very human ideas of things that are set in stone. I thought about the other Doors and what they had meant: trust in myself, healing, contemplation, places to rest or to gain knowledge. I thought of Door One and how long it took me to move forward with solving it. With this thought, I suddenly phased right through the entire building and appeared in the First Room, the Golden Medallion in the middle of a concave floor. One more bit of proof that this Door is about defying the calcified thought I have become accustomed to considering law.

I began to think that Door Nine had something to do with soul travel. I explore the Doors and other places through the Tibetan mental technique, but have only physically left my body a handful of times, and only then with assistance. Despite eleven years worth of experience~~led by my master into other realms~~I still like to think that I’m not pure enough to walk with the masters at the Temples of Golden Wisdom, though the single desire I have for this life is to attain the control required to trust myself as soul experiencing non~physicality.

Fear gripped me.  For two weeks I returned to the Door every night but made no move to enter. Sometimes I was standing in front of the Door and could feel a pulling, as if a gravitational force was moving me towards the leaves and beyond. Eventually I would find myself laying beside the Door, as if it were a pool. The surface rippled when I would lay next to it. On one visit I noticed myself in the reflection, and afterwards spent many weeks laying beside the Door, looking in.

This fear to move forward is a common theme in my life, and I passed it to my daughter. She is in her twenties and doesn’t know what she wants to do, afraid to take a wrong step. Due to a mysterious disorder that she has experienced since about 10 years of age, she has twitches in her hands, legs and even mouth that cause her to drop things, throw things, trip and stutter. Neurologists have been unable to find any abnormality in her brain, which leaves her feeling helpless. Many things she would like to do require using her hands, such as bartending, and she’s afraid she’ll embarrass herself.

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She’s stagnated in life and it’s making her depressed, but from a mother’s point of view I see so clearly how fear is more a killer than any embarrassment she could suffer. I know that all she has to do is go out there and do something, and the rest will take care of itself. It takes bravery to go against everything your mind is assuring you is true. Sometimes it takes acknowledgment of the thoughts that feel as if they must be obeyed “or else…”, in order to realize full potential.

And yet I, myself sat for a week staring at the Door terrified to go in. As if a Door would open but I wouldn’t be able to solve it. Just as in life, Doors only open when we are able to enter them. Whether or not we do is another story. It’s our choice whether to allow fear to control us or to take that first step bravely. It is this, with consideration to thoughts of my daughter’s situation, that caused me to roll my form into the ripples while laying beside the Ninth Door pool.

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I found myself hovering just beyond the portal surface of the Door. It is, indeed, a portal, not the liquid water I had thought it was. The first thing I noticed was that my body had no discernible features; vague lumps where breasts would be, and these only because I was thinking of myself in human terms. With the realization of this the lumps disappeared. There are no legs, just grey, translucent substance like the body of a jellyfish, dwindling down to a cord which connects me to the surface. I am neither falling nor rising, and there is nowhere to move forward, backward, up or down to.

My first thought was that this space is Nowhere…which I recognised as “now” and “here”. There is nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing but focus on my presence in that form. The practice of fleshing out my surroundings while waiting for the jade to form had actually taught me something about holding focus. I think this Nowhere place is a “green room” of sorts, where I am holding in preparation to leave my body.

I have refused to ask DapRen to help me accomplish this task; it’s something I want to do on my own. I have faith that taking that first step and just doing it, as I have been telling my daughter, is key; getting out there and finding out how to maneuver, controlling my mind by learning quickly what I can and cannot do. I’ve been telling my daughter that she shouldn’t be afraid because she always has home to fall back on. She’ll never fail and be homeless, she can always come back here.

In that same sense, I’m not going out there alone! I have DapRen to look out for me, and he has on many occasions. Those as he are there waiting for us who require their assistance, whether or not we know it. My stubborn refusal to ask for his help has caused me many delays and problems over these past eleven years. True, the master is not to be leaned on. It is up to us to make our own way. Yet, to refuse to go to the Beacon or call for aid can only hold me back from my goals.

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I kept returning and falling into the event horizon, holding still in the tuza body, suspended in Nowhere. Nothing else ever happened, and eventually I realized that I had solved the Door. Nowhere IS where the Door leads, and I can continue to go there and practice until I am ready to use that body to leave mine and begin my journey into the spirit realms. Solving only ever opens the gate through which I can return again and again.

Eventually the surface of the event horizon changed. When I lay beside it my face was reflected in the cream~coloured, cracked marble floor of a koi pond where salmon-coloured fish and lotus flowers drifted. I felt a sense of accomplishment, but didn’t realize that the solving was far from over.

Very quickly, my health and mental state deteriorated, until I found myself at my lowest point in years. A Dark Night of Soul descended, one that far exceeded the hopelessness and disillusion of any previous experience. Complete lack of understanding of or compassion for self. Complete lack of understanding or compassion from others. People who didn’t know me reacted to me as if I was insane, drawing away from me for seemingly no reason. People on the street seemed to leer or glare. Other drivers in traffic became reckless and dangerous to me. I became obsessively self~absorbed, my mind turning over dark-nightevery detail of every wrong done me, every mistake I had ever made. No joy could be found within or without.

I began missing work and school due to pinched nerves, muscle pain and all forms of dis~ease and ailment. I couldn’t live with myself physically, emotionally. The door of the sky was shut to me; no words of wisdom could I comprehend. Nature was “out there” and I was trapped inside myself without access to relief. I could no longer carry on conversations with anyone, because I had no idea what I was saying or how I was being perceived, which was profoundly important to me and part of negative self~talk.

Everything began to dissolve. I was gripped with insomnia, waking each morning too early, with a horrific fear of some~nameless~something going very wrong. I flunked a chemistry test due to a migraine that kept me from being able to concentrate, and had to drop the class. My internet mysteriously quit working and I couldn’t do my homework or read my online books. I became more socially anxious than ever, phobic of being in public.

My twin sister was going through a very similar time, as happens so often between us. We both struggled with life events. She found out that she has Crohn’s disease. My father died for nearly 20 minutes before being resuscitated. A cat I have had for 13 years was ripped in half by a coyote or dog. I found her twisted body on a path through the woods behind my house and realized a blood~curdling scream of pain I’d heard out the window from that direction nights before must have been her last, excruciatingly~painful moments on this Earth. We buried her in the back yard.

Though I completely lost sight of the bliss and joy I’ve known these many years, I knew from experience that not only was this a lesson I was meant to learn during Door Nine, but that the Dark Night of Soul has always been followed by a period of great peace and change in my life. As removed from flow as I was, I knew without a doubt that I would come out the other side a better person. Not only that, but keeping a scientific mind throughout was fascinating; observing how our state of mind literally warps the world around us to reflect it. Frowns where there were once smiles. Coldness where there was once warmth. Isolation, hopelessness, a disconnect with nature, humans and the energy from which we are derived. It is this that I call materianimus, the manipulation of physical matter by thought to reflect the inner state.

So many people exist in such malcontent states every day of their lives. It was not something I was perceiving but a physical change, a literal change. This fact is undeniable, I can see it evidenced in how beautiful the world seems when I feel beautiful and how ugly it can be when I feel ugly. If you remain aware enough, you can observe that, more than mere perception, the world does, indeed, mould itself to your whim.

But I’ve seen what’s Next. In the midst of it I realized that I could either continue on in utter misery or I could reach for something, anything greater. I began living in Door Nine,

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Solstice, by Füssli

returning myself to silence with every thought. I began making mental lists of all the things going right in my life. My Other. My children. My father’s continued survival. My house. The pets still alive. I began to replace fear of what would happen next with possible hopeful futures, wildly daydreaming with no consideration for “realistic” guidelines and boundaries (which we don’t really need to begin with). I clung to every little beauty for dear life: falling leaves of autumn, colourful sunsets or sunrises, the worried smile of my Other. I began listening to YouTube talks from the masters once more. Even if the wisdom given seemed shut to me, I allowed it to drum on along in my background.

We always have a choice. No matter how hopeless things get, every single moment we have a choice to reach for any patch of light we can find that does not reflect and feed the darkened state within. The instinct is to gather everything to you that matches the emotions within. To go against that sometimes takes every drop of focus you can manage to muster.

My journey was as most human journeys go; the painstaking and near~blind gathering of practically nonexistent bread crumbs from a midnight forest floor littered with leaves, leading away from the mouth of the wicked witch’s gingerbread house. Depression is akin to a gingerbread house. As painful and terrifying as it is, it calls you to lose yourself in it. Succumb to it. But to reject or deny it is a trap door in tree roots, dropping you directly into the witch’s feeding cages. To deny it is to say you shouldn’t be feeling the way you are feeling.

My mind would swoop in with bared claws and close around me. Every time I could think of it I would let them go, cut them off in mid~sentence, with an acknowledgment of emotions if not silence. Returning to silence a million times a day. Returning to the Ninth Door. I would lay near the koi pond and stick my finger in the surface of the event horizon. The energy from my body causes it to vibrate, creating waves that do not move out but stay fixed around my finger. My face is devoid of pain in its reflection, that me who has never known suffering.

You don’t need a Ninth Door. Silence is enough. Watching the storm pass overhead without getting swept up in it. A tornado comes and carries you away. Blind again, lost again. You find yourself once more on the ground. Swept up, on the ground, swept up again. It feels hopeless for much less time than you would think. In fact, the moment you begin reaching for solid ground some of the pain eases, and when you feel that bad, any tiny bit of relief is the difference between survival and ruin.

In a week I was experiencing days filled with that nameless, tear~less peace and Oneness with the cosmos. It has been many weeks since that first week of freedom and I’m light enough again to feel the doors thrown wide, access to the All That Is. It seems like everything that dissolved in my life and others close to me is resolving itself. Synchronicities abound.

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One night I went to the Ninth Door, laying beside the koi pond as my physical body was laying to sleep. I thought to myself that when I went to sleep I wanted to connect with my dead cat, to see where she had gone. To my surprise she appeared in the reflection, standing on my back. I was overwhelmed and called her name, but when I reached for her she ran away.

Suddenly I found myself on the white beach of that rainwater lake that holds the Doors. She was standing on the path ahead of me, looking at me with that curious look she always had. When I went to her she ran away a distance, then turned to look at me again. In life, she would do this when she wanted me to follow her somewhere. I followed her into the rainforest, to the dwelling place of the indigenous Dreamtribe, the Orang Asli, or Senoi Indians native to Malaysia. I had been in the area once before.

When I entered the clearing I found her eating at a bowl beside a woman sitting at a fire. The woman was very old, with few teeth and stringy black hair that looked strangely American-style; shoulder length and curling inwards. She was very thin, and skin swung back and forth from her bony arm as she stirred the contents of a pot on the fire. I looked in it to see yams and fish parts boiling together in water. The woman had taken a chunk of the yam and some white fish flesh and mashed it together with a stone on a small, wide wooden plate. My kitty friend loves it.

Time began to move forward then and I was allowed to see her daily life with the tribe. She loves chasing small rodents through the rainforest. She runs ahead of the men walking on the path between camps. She follows the women to the lake to wash their clothes or draw water, and laps from the surface of it. She is so happy and healthy. When I awoke the next morning, all pain of her passing and the violence of her death was gone from inside me, and has not returned.

Many changes have come over me during this time of the Ninth Door. I’ve had three experiences with apparitions and ghostly figures. I’ve had dreams which feel prophetic, and old prophetic dreams are resurfacing and living themselves out. Through a dream of silver and blue I have connected to a woman that used to live on Earth but does no longer. She left us music from the Next, which she tapped into before she left.

But the most exciting part is that I can Go to the Nowhere inside Door Nine and, there, can experience a more concrete focus than ever before. It is a place I run to when negative thought patterns overtake me, a place of instant solace from the sickness I create with my mind. You cannot know how sick you are until you become well again. Most people don’t even feel the sickness anymore, as they literally poison themselves and the world with negative thought patterns. We believe every single word we tell ourselves, and our personal worlds each reflect the belief that moulds them.

Once you regain control over your mind, you can notice negative thought processes and remove yourself from them. When you pull out you can feel it: muscles relax, your body instantly stops hurting, your stomach settles, your headache goes away. The mental and physical dis~ease that doctors and society tell you are incurable become bearable, or go away completely. Every breath can be a joy and a gift, and no matter what your life situation is you are not an exception to that rule… unless sickness and ruin were what you had planned for yourself. Even in such a life there is necessary movement.

Through re~training the mind to accept each moment just as it is, can we begin again. There are trees out your window and clouds in the sky. Every person you are surrounded by, with their many gifts and challenges, are there by your design! There is work to be done, games to play. Joy to be had. Sorrow to help ease. Even what’s inside, such as emotions we feel, are true. It’s what we tell ourselves about truth that is where things go wrong. It is these lies that create sorrow in us and in the world.

To use our innate and long~forgotten power of materianimus is to reshape the physical world to benefit ourselves and others. It is this that the Ninth Door has instilled in me to continue perfecting.

 

The 64 Doors

 

The Door

Last night my children were watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen any of the movies in that series, and was reminded that they teach kids some valuable lessons in self trust, discipline and controlling fear. However, last night it became very evident to me why the Harry Potter sensation swept the globe like it did, and why it is still so popular today.

Children want to believe that magic is real (and judging by the large adult fan base of the Harry Potter series, many adults do also). Children’s sense of the fantastical has not yet been discouraged to the point of disbelief. They want to believe that there is something out there for them beyond growing up, going to college and getting a good job, that there is some grand adventure that defies the mundane purpose of human life. Kids watch these movies and imagine that they can do magic. They dream of being trusted with important tasks, treated as if they have a gift to share of equal value to the adults they are surrounded by. I think every one of us could take parenting lessons from Hogwarts.

Perhaps Harry Potter fans are people who want to believe that everything is not as it seems, that the universe is more malleable than we’ve been taught. On Earth we see evidence of certain facts all around us. If you touch something that is hot you will be burned. If you jump off a building and flap your arms you will not fly. If you attempt to walk through a wall you will inevitably get hurt. Growing up on planet Earth has meant being taught to learn and respect the laws of physics. By coming to trust the concrete reality of physical existence we have put less and less stock in the abstract notions of impermanence and creation and can no longer believe that we have the power to defy law.

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However, the new science of quantum mechanics proves that there is nothing concrete about reality at all, that the smallest components of the universe are reactive to thought. What this means is that science is getting closer and closer to understanding our non~physical reality. The properties of light, mathematics and the invisible structure of the universe are all beginning to come together as a larger picture of the bonded unity of all things.

Just as a college degree is a beneficial tool in this life, imagination is the most beneficial tool for what comes Next, once we decide we’ve learned our lessons in the physical. Practicing for What Comes Next requires only that we trust whatever creation we dream into being. However, trust in imagination goes against everything we’ve been taught. Is it dangerous to follow a path not based on pure fact? Is it dangerous to believe in fantasy?

I certainly believed so when I first had the dream of the 64 Doors. Because of my mother’s mental illness I knew how devastating believing in the formless could be. The voice of “God” had abused me through her for years; because she believed that voice implicitly I learned that trusting in voices and visions was dangerous. When I woke from the dream of the Doors I knew that it was a place I needed to return to, but I couldn’t trust myself enough to go there.

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That’s where my astral master came in. When I first met Him I thought I had gone insane, but His love and acceptance of me just as I am caused me to return to Him again and again. Once I learned to trust myself more, He began teaching me how to use my imagination to explore other dimensions and worlds.

At first I couldn’t be sure whether or not I was creating what I was seeing and experiencing, but the point I would soon learn is that whether I was creating something new or exploring a place that already existed was irrelevant. Whether exploration of the Next is “real” or “imaginary” goes against the very point of the exercise itself. All that matters is gaining the experience of learning how to explore. If what you are experiencing is a mix of “reality” and your own fantastical creation, all you’ve done is added to what is called “expansion”. Think of expansion in this way: even as galaxies pull away from each other in the universe so are we fluctuating outwards, space expanding inside us as we learn to embody the everything we are part of. We must begin thinking outside the box, so to speak; realizing that anything and everything is possible, that we were meant to create and explore.

Before the dream of the Doors I had begun crossing the highway behind my apartment to a pasture that stretched on for miles. I believe now that it was my attempts to reconnect with nature that prepared me for what would become a spiritual epiphany, boosting me to the next lesson. At first the Doors were an escape from my sad life, a life of extreme depression and poverty in a cluttered little apartment with 12 cats, a child I wasn’t taking good care of and an unhappy relationship with a man I knew was not right for me. Eventually, the joy that solving Doors afforded me began altering my life, becoming less an escape and more an adventure.

 

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The huts on stilts that house the 64 Doors are made of jade; four doorways on each side of four huts. Some doors are open and lead into darkness, others have actual wooden doors. The Doors sit on a rainwater lake surrounded by weeping willows. The sand of the beach is white, with rice patties on either side of a path that leads into the rainforest. The four huts face East, towards a large bamboo dock where the Keepers’ houses sit, one behind the other, facing North and South. I came to this lake from the mountains. The full recount of the dream that took me there can be found in the Dream Log page.

Orang AsliOver years I researched online for some record of an Earthen place like what I had seen in my visits to the Doors. I found that Malaysia fit all the topographic and cultural criteria. It is home to many rainwater lakes scattered deep in tropical rainforests. There are rice patties like the ones on the white sands of the beach beside the lake. There are local tribes, the Orang Asli Indians (Senoi) that live in Malaysia and have the markings of those I see in my travels, whose entire culture revolves around their dreams. They often live in huts on stilts.

I researched for some record of astral or mystical doors of sixty four but have found nothing. That’s what’s so incredible about the realms of spirit, the number and quality of experiences that can be had is infinite. Each Path is tailor~made for its Walker.

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It took years for me to identify the first of two Keepers of the Doors, a white man with white hair. I found an image of him in the back of a book that I had read, Creative Dreaming by Robert Moss. It just so happened that Dr. Moss spent time around the Senoi Indian tribes of Malaysia. The other Keeper is a woman with shaggy dark brown hair wearing a white dress. I have yet to discover her identity.

I believe that the 64 Doors is a real place, not a place I have constructed in my own mind, but this is where the definition of “real” gets complicated. I can guess that if I traveled to Malaysia and spent years searching every rainwater lake, I would never find the Doors. A different dimension? An alternate plane? I don’t know for sure. I know that solving the Doors has changed my life in more ways than I can share. Each Door is mirrored by the life I live on planet Earth, in a way that solving a Door means learning an essential lesson in waking life. The Doors are a map of my awakening into a life of joy from a life that was nothing but pain.

Heading OutWhether you walk alone or with a master, ascended beings are always there if you need them, all you have to do is call. But you don’t need a master to walk these Paths. In all honesty, I’ve walked this Path largely alone. Because of my belief that I am a waste of my master’s time I have refused to call on Him, though His only purpose is to be here for those in need. It’s a silly and sad notion, that I would feel myself to be so unworthy, and yet He is always there when I do call. Time does not exist for Him. Any path is the walker’s to fulfill; leaning too heavily upon the master is equally difficult. I have learned to rely on my beacon when I am in need of aid.

When I first dreamt of the Doors I was not allowed to enter them. The Keeper smiled and told me I was not yet ready. It was quite awhile later, in a meeting with my master Dap Ren, that He took me to the Doors and told me to begin solving them. When I asked why He said “Because you can.” At the time I took that as some sort of compliment, but I know now that He meant I had learned to trust my imagination enough to undertake the adventure. As you can imagine, I had no idea whatsoever how to begin. I barely even believed it was real… but I desperately wanted to.

Doorway1

I began by standing at Door One, an arched, open jade doorway leading into darkness. I was terrified to go inside; partly because I wasn’t sure what I would find and partly because I was worried that I would inadvertently use my imagination in a way that would taint what was “really there” by creating a mental image of something that wasn’t. This became a common theme with the Doors, a self~distrust that would be challenged in Door Three.

Dap Ren told me to “make them real”, it was my only clue of how to proceed. I would stand at the entrance to Door One and run my hands over the cool, smooth surface of the jade door frame. It soothed me somehow to do this. I spent many months avoiding entering the room until one day I stepped inside. What I saw made me curious: an empty room made entirely of clay. The floor is square, made of four convex triangles that meet in a depression in the center of the room.

DoorOneSnakeAt the nadir center is a golden coin. There is a design there, a snake slithering up the face with a small, slitted tongue sticking out. On its upper left side are two small rectangles width~up, and on its lower right two more with a single rectangle beneath them. This isn’t an exact replica, it’s the best I could do with the paint program and internet images.

I sat in front of the medallion on the cool clay for many months. I had no idea what to do, but I was stubborn and refused to ask Dap Ren for help. I wanted to do it on my own. I became accustomed to the smell of the clay and the feel of its smooth surface beneath me. I would listen to the wind outside, sometimes going to the door and looking out at the trees beyond the Keeper’s house. I would sometimes leave the room and sit on the bamboo dock watching the water beneath me, or swim through its surprisingly warm depths. I became comfortable with being there, and it began to feel safe and familiar.

One day I had a severe migraine. To escape the pain I attempted to go to Door One, though it was hard to visualize through the pain. I lay on the floor next to the golden medallion, tracing its raised symbols with my fingers in attempts to take my mind off of my body back on the bed. It occurred to me that, because the snake and rectangles were raised, they would still be visible if the medallion’s depression was filled with liquid. Blood came to mind. I sat up and looked at the medallion and realized that there was a small, crude knife in my hand. Curious, and somehow knowing what to do, I cut a deep gash in my finger and dripped blood on to the medallion, careful not to get any on the raised symbols.

Instantly a blue light shot up to the ceiling from the medallion. It was jagged around the edges, similar to tribal patterns I have seen. For the Tribal Bluefirst time I noticed that there was a small hole in the ceiling through which the light traveled. I felt drawn to the light and stepped inside it. It pulled me off my feet gently. It seemed there was no gravity inside it, my body floated as in water. Weightless, I arched my back and floated. I felt the migraine stop hurting in my Earthly body. I felt the gash on my finger grow together and heal itself. As if pulling out of myself I looked at the Me floating in the light and was awed.

The “me” that exists at the Doors is a new being, not the “me” from planet Earth. This new Me has flawless skin and is the perfect weight; slim and tan and as beautiful as I could possibly be. This Me has never experienced one moment of pain or suffering of any kind. There are no wrinkles, no scars. We don’t realize how visible physical pain is as evidenced on the human body, but seeing myself without it was sobering. That Me is the me I’ve always wished I could be, the reflection of the perfection of my true self.

At the Doors I wear a white button~up shirt with elbow~length sleeves, tucked in to a pair of cut~off blue jean shorts. My feet are always bare. The me in this life would never wear something like that, which made me curious. Interestingly enough, I would come to find that for each different adventure I wear different clothing. As well, each time I meet with Dap Ren He is wearing a different outfit. I’m not sure the significance of it, but the colour of the clothing is always white or tan for both of us.

After many visits I realized the symbolism of cutting my finger to activate the Light. We must exist in pain on Earth, it’s why we came. We must know suffering to find the Light. Suffering is part of the process! It’s not something to be shunned or avoided, it’s something to be embraced and used to further our cause. Too easily we forget, thinking that once we are ‘pure’ enough we won’t experience pain anymore. However, becoming pure means that you will still experience pain but no longer suffer from it. You will be quiet inside enough to see that you came here to experience pain in order to purify yourself.

I can go to Door One any time I want and step into the Light and my pain will be gone. That is not to say that I go to the Doors every time I am in pain. One thing I have learned about myself over the years is that I am stubborn and do everything the hard way. Though I’ve had this miraculous blue lightand mystical place to go to be healed I have rarely ever done so, only when the pain is too much and I feel as if I have no choice. Had I gone to Door One often, I would have become so familiar with healing my pain that I would only have had to think of the Light to be healed. Humans are curious creatures, indeed.

You can no doubt sense the disappointment in myself as I admit this to you. I should not be disappointed; my master is not disappointed in me, and I have all eternity to spend at the Doors long after my body is decaying in the ground. However, there is a purpose for showing this side of me to you. As with every post I enter here I am attempting to cause you to realize that you don’t have to be some guru~level being to begin amazing adventures on other planes of existence. I am a wisp of a conscious, only just now beginning to pull myself from the ashes of first awakening..

It is too~little faith in imagination that cause most to never begin this journey. We cannot trust ourselves and our visions, and are afraid to venture out into something so completely alien and alone. Thus is the crux of life, that we deter ourselves from the very thing that sets us free. However, that is not to say that even this is as we planned.

Beings of Light

We have come here again and again, eventually deciding to take that first step towards the non~physical aspects of ourselves. It’s a natural process that takes a near~infinity to comprehend before infinity begins. We are all too rushed to begin when, in fact, we have already begun! Every waking moment you are moving towards your goals. That you are reading this information right now means that you have already begun, whether or not you “buy” my story. Even in searching to disprove something we are searching to prove it, in order to create our own reality just as we want it, because we want to know our options and what is possible for us. It’s in our nature.

 

~*DOOR TWO*~

Night and Water

The Banks of This River is Night ~ Peccatum

Running wide
on promises of sweet tomorrows
Running deep
in ignorance and hope
on and on towards the big, black sea
the banks of this river is night

Night is within me
and I am here in your arms

After solving Door One I didn’t know whether I should immediately solve Door Two or not. I would sit on the dock and look at the Door to the right of the first one but did not feel led to go there. By now, the simple experience of Going somewhere fantastical was enough to sate me. At that time television was playing constantly at home, and having been raised with no television made me despise it. I would sit beside my boyfriend and Go to the Doors. I walked around the dock. I swam. I looked at the willows surrounding the lake and wondered what lay beyond those shores.

candle

At this time I had just begun talking to a woman on an online poetry site that had quickly become a mother to me. She urged me to continue returning to nature, trusting my visions and dreams. She was daughter of the Sun, and I of the Moon, and I felt that I should be like her. However, she instead worked towards helping me see that the darkness that I drew towards was not bad or good, that there is no darkness without light.

I spent more and more time away from my apartment, taking my child to the field across the highway. I would meet with my master there, or do visualization to leave my body. I wrote a lot of nature poetry in this age, a new thing for me having been such a dark poet from an early age. I studied the Book of my Tibetan tradition, Eckankar; The Key to Secret Worlds by Paul Twitchell, and attempted to grasp the incredible information given there.

Over time I went to the Doors less and less and eventually stopped going at all. A year Sri Darwin Grosswent by, and then another. I met with my master rarely. Because I had never meditated I could only hold myself at His side for brief moments at a time before my mind would slip away. This horrified me, that this ancient soul who chose to stay behind couldn’t even hold my attention long enough to share His wisdom. But His smile was always genuine and His patience boundless. At this time He was still alive on Earth, a physical being named Sri Darwin Gross, Darji to His chelas, or students. He, Himself was going through trials that I had no idea about until later, but His soul was meeting with me whenever I called, loving me in the gentle way that He does. During the solving of Door Two Darji transitioned from this life to the Next and became Dap Ren. I never got to meet Him in the flesh.

I knew that it was time to begin solving Door Two when I started thinking about it. That is how it has always been, once my physical life progressed to the point that the next Door would mirror its lesson I begin to spend time there again. Over weeks I would think about them, and sometimes the anticipation of what I would find would frighten me. When you’ve been inundated your entire life with the concrete~reality it’s hard to accept anything less concrete, even when you desperately want to. I sometimes felt as if I was being swept away by something too big to control. I still didn’t trust myself enough.

Strangely enough, when I stood on the dock before the hut I realized that the Door to the right of One was not Two. I felt led to move around to the left side of the building, the side facing the rice patties on the beach. To stock-photo-511428-moroccan-mirrormy surprise there was only one jade Door there, shaped in a Moroccan style. What lay beyond was pitch black. As with Door One I stood before it running my hand up and down the smooth jade doorjamb. It became like a ritual with me. Eventually I wandered in, and my feet sloshed through several inches of water. Above me, stars twinkled in a clear nightsky. The water was so warm that I lay down in it looking up at the stars. It was just deep enough for me to immerse myself in; floating as one would float in a bathtub full of water, still touching the soft silt below but not pressed against it. As I lay there my mind began to get quiet and calm and I drifted into a sort of still, silent peace that had previously been unknown to me. It was utter bliss.

But I still felt as if there was some puzzle to solve here. I did a bit of wandering, but just a bit; the bank of the shallow river could not be climbed, and its walls seemed to surround me. The room was tiny, there was nowhere else to go. Sometimes I sat in the water and looked at the stars, sometimes I sat on the dock and wondered what puzzle I could possibly solve there.

After a month, waking life became particularly stressful. One night I ran to the Doors to float in the warm, soothing water, staring at the nightsky. All the woes of the world I had left behind began to drift away. The music that I was listening to in my room on Earth followed me to the river. I listened to the words and they melted into the reality of the room: the song and the Door were one.

“Running wide/on promises of sweet tomorrows/running deep/in ignorance and hope/on and on towards the big black sea/the banks of this river is night….”

The purpose of Door Two was to have a safe place to rest, a place that would remove me from the woes of the world any time I needed to reconnect with peace. As I lay there the night of sorrow was within me. I was overwhelmed by the violence of hot soil and the conundrum of humanity, yet I was embraced by the warmth and the stars, given peace by the very darkness that had seemed to swallow me moments before.

I learned much about myself at this Door. I learned that my “darkness”, which has drawn me towards the very undercurrent of life that most shun, is not a curse but a blessing. I came here to be dark, and this is a concept many who know me cannot understand. The vast majority of spiritual people are drawn towards happy things, light things. They wear pretty colours and listen to joyful music. They are surrounded by people like them. I am not one of them, and have never been…at least, not on the outside. Inside I am joyfully One with them, and outside I wear black. I listen to metal music. I am drawn towards all things dark, of the night, of storms. I am drawn towards the beautiful death that awaits. I came here to represent the fact that none of us can judge another by the forms that we take.

Darkness

Once I realized I was a spiritual creature on a Path I attempted to murder the darkness inside myself, to drown it in upbeat poetry, light~hearted music and bright colour. With the help of my master, and my poet mother, I learned that I am perfect just as I am. With the help of Door Two I embraced who I have chosen to be on planet Earth. That the very music I earnestly adored was woven into the very fabric of the lesson meant so much to me: validation that every single aspect of the creation is part of the plan.

There is no set ritual prescribed by “God”, no particular way you should head towards It, no particular songs you should sing or robes you should wear or words you should say. We create the Walk back to It in whatever way we choose. Considering that all of this is a creation of Its design there is no medium that is rejected when painting the picture we came here to make. We, ourselves, are pieces of the great mirror of a God, broken away from It that we may find our way back to It again and, doing so, experience every experience that exists. I am the Dark Side of you and of God. There is no separation between us and It.

Solitude and Water

“But how can this be?” many may say. “Dark is bad and light is good and that’s how it’s always been.” Even in the Bible darkness is used to represent Satan and all that is evil. All I know is that it was a God~cursing Darkness that lead me to the Light and that, through me, love spills out to those who would claim to shun it. Because I am like them, Light is able to reach the dark corners it would never normally touch. Let us not forget the old adage that Jesus, himself, sat in the taverns with those considered sinners by the mass. Were he to have passed them by they’d have never known his message. I am not Jesus by any means, but I touch and am touched by the Dark of us every day.

We have made a grave mistake in believing that people who listen to Satanic bands and curse God are on the wrong Path. In some thirty years of being surrounded by these Dark ones, I have met three who embodied the sickness of man’s image of darkness. The most evil man I’ve ever met was not one of these, he fit nicely in society. In turn, one of the most gentle souls I know is a six~foot, giant Viking with ‘hate’ tattooed above the knuckles of one hand and ‘kill’ on the other.

Just as gay and transgender people, and ethnicities historically shunned by the masses, Darkfolk have come to this planet to be outwardly shunned. It is our challenge, and our redemption should we so choose to accept the blessing. Nine times out of ten, these people have softer hearts than most. Nine times out of ten, these people are more vulnerable than most, and have more a capacity to love than many. The rest simply represent the other side of the coin.

It is not a rebellion that draws me to the darkness, though it began that way. Door Two reminded me that all paths lead to light eventually, so it is okay for each of us to express our purpose on Earth as we so design. There is a purpose for every facet of the diamond of humanity; pressed and heated unbearably, we all shine in the end. Our souls are made of light, as is all matter. It is said that on the higher planes the sun never sets, as there is no reason for sleep or darkness. We can create a malevolent darkness if we believe in its existence, but we do not have to make such things real, it’s our choice. Darkness is an aspect of physicality. Eventually I will never experience night in any form again. I will cherish it while I can.

 

~*DOOR THREE*~

Twin Flame 10

I went to Door Two more often than its predecessor. Here I moved away from the gnawing depression that had chased me my entire life. I didn’t feel rushed to get to Door Three, which was good. My life was about to take an unexpected turn towards the lesson I would soon receive.

My situation improved. I became a better parent. I got rid of all the cats but a few. I got a dollar raise. I realized that living with my boyfriend no longer coincided with the amazing Path I had discovered. We continued to date but I moved out, to a much nicer apartment in a better neighborhood. The new place had its own field across the busy street, a large, untouched lot in the midst of businesses and duplexes. I dragged a chair out there and spent much time there as my daughter came of the age to begin spending more time with her friends.

I had some very deep mystical experiences in that Second LightningField. One day the music I was listening to, Graablick blev hun vær by Ulver, mirrored my surroundings: a hawk carrying a snake in its mouth across a lightning~streaked sky moved to the beat over a herd of deer who, at the precise moment that lightning struck the ground and thunder rumbled in the song, bolted for the far field. The more I immersed myself in the spirit, everything around me began to mould itself to my waking dreams.

Sungods

I met with enlightenment there, in a moment when I became so silent that I was one with everything around me. I met God for the first time there, in the form of sunlight. Before that moment I was an atheist.

I went on my first psilocybin journey in that apartment, floating as an waves of lightectoplasmic webbing up through waves of colour and ecstasy to a plateau of clouds to meet with the pure Love of Sugmad. I watched each person on Earth gather up their suffering, lay it out before them and crawl across it endlessly for one single drop of that Love. This caused me to realize that all suffering is worth what awaits.

Due to the quality of my spiritual life, my physical life began to greatly improve. That’s not to say  I was not faced with major lessons, challenges whose difficulty equaled the beauty of my experience. Having this new knowledge of the reasons for my suffering caused me to handle challenges better. I now knew that there was a purpose.

By now I was dying to share my travels with others. I had kept my master and my travels secret from others, but the more confident I became the more I realized that otherworldly experience is what is missing from the disillusioned masses. I realized that if people knew there was an adventure waiting for them it might change their lives in the way it had mine.

At this time I became a fanatic. It runs in the family. Though the psilocybin experience deeply touched them both, my sisters could not grasp anything else I was ranting about and my fervor separated us for a time. They thought I had lost my mind.

I went online, to a website named Myspace. There I met many interesting 240px-Hermes_Mercurius_Trismegistuspeople. One I met was of the Left Hand Path. He told me of the Qliphoth, a mythical Tree of Life from the tradition of the ancient Hermetic Qabalah. It is the purpose of the Hermetics to seek out the “adverse Sephiroth”, the opposite of God’s holy light, in order to integrate all aspects of the self.

I asked my master to take me to the Qliphoth. He warned me against it but took me as I asked. Now I look back and see that He wanted me to understand that everything which has been created by soul exists on some plane. Darkness can be frightening or it can be bliss, just as the Light can be. All four of these Paths are lessons, different lessons from the same medium. We can choose whatever way we wish to go.

I was terrified by what I saw at the Qliphoth, it hunted me for weeks afterwards. It would take pages to describe it, so I will suffice to say that the Tree is alive. It knows the past, present and possible futures of every soul who comes to it. It draws souls to it, and the Paths that its trunk and branches make take lifetimes to explore. It was nothing that I wanted, and when I returned it continued to attempt to draw me to it. If not for my master I might have had a terrible time releasing myself from it.

I met another man on Myspace that year, one I had known for years, a man who lived forty minutes away from me in a small town. I don’t even know what lead me to tell him about my master, but when he had asked what I’d been doing I mentioned leaving my body. He asked to know more, expressing an interest in meeting with me and speaking of these things. I was amazed, as any talk of spiritual matters had only run people away before.

We did eventually meet, and what I told him changed his life forever. That first discussion I had with him lasted all night. Dap Ren was present. My friend embraced every tale I told him. He embraced my master and longed for a master of his own. We didn’t even feel the need for sleep the next day. Both he and I were buzzing with some sort of energy, filled with a mysterious etheria that neither of us could explain. Thus began the walk with the man who would come to be my Other, but at the time we were both taken by other people. I became depressed the more I came to love him, making a pact with myself to hide my feelings with respect to his family. I broke up with my boyfriend out of respect for him, knowing my heart belonged to another.

Doorway

Door Three is to the right of Door One. This Door was short in solving. I didn’t bother with usual ritual of rubbing the door frame with my hands, I walked right in from the bright of a rainlake day, down some stairs into a dark room made of sandy stone. There was a rectangle door in the back of the room leading into utter darkness. There was a hole in the ceiling that a single ray of light shined through, revealing a raised platform on the right. It was elliptical in shape and had a single, marble column on its left side that connected with the cathedral ceiling.

At first I sat in the center of the ellipse, where the light shined down upon me, but the dark door behind me made me feel unsafe. I began sitting and staring at the door. The experience of the Qliphoth had caused me to fear the unknown once more, forgetting that my master had protected me there and would protect me no matter where I went. I would think of the coming of age rituals of tribes in which the young boy goes out and, armed with a simple spear, kills his first animal. I wondered if this Door would be that kind of quest, and was frightened by the thought.

There was also the growing fear, at that time unconscious, that I had walked the Path for nothing. If everything that I had worked for had brought me to the male equivalent of myself only to be denied him, what was the purpose of searching for joy? I convinced myself that I could never be truly happy until he was by my side. I dwelled in lament and my songs were of sorrow.

One day I was staring at the door and something appeared there. It was a huge hound, several feet tall without skin. The eyeballs bugged out of its bloody, furless skull and every sinew and vein and muscle could be seen. I jerked out of my meditative state with terror and did not return for days, but Dap Ren’s assurances that all was not as it seemed caused me to return with a metaphorical spear in hand, ready to face my fears and my foe.

Once more I sat facing the dark entrance. Once more the hound appeared. I crouched, bracing myself for what would come, but the hound only stood there and watched me. Once I realized it would not attack I observed it curiously. It seemed less and less menacing and more pitiful with every moment that passed. It made me think of myself, that part of me that found it increasingly more difficult each day to hide the powerful love I was experiencing for my separate Other. As much as I attempted to hide my feelings I, like the hound, had nothing to hide behind.

To be the hound was to be tortured and alone; not tortured from outside but from within. My observations of the hound created a desire in me to stop suffering, to embrace the incredible story I had written and acknowledge that I had found someone to share it with. Whatever kind of sharing it would be would be enough. My focus should be on the journey. I had Doors to solve. With this commitment I made the hound disappeared. I lay down in the center of the ellipse and curled myself on the floor, closing my eyes.

I felt the floor begin to heat up beneath me. It was so soothing. I looked above me to find that the hole in the ceiling had become my Other’s symbol, the black sun, radiating a thermal light the colours of deep purple, blue, green and gold. The ground embraced me, the sides curving up and around me. The Sun slid down the wall until it was before me and the room became a cocoon: the womb of the Earth. The essence of my Other radiated through the Sun, heating my inner chamber. I could smell him, feel him, everything I loved about him was there with me.

Door Three is the Other. I would come to rely on this Door too heavily, continuing my addictive behaviour by sitting long hours in the womb. I would continue to suffer due to my separation from him, but I had somewhere to go when it became unbearable. Even with the imprint of the lesson of the Third Door on my soul I didn’t handle our time apart very well, but it didn’t last long. Those two years seemed to stretch on forever, but every piece of the puzzle fit into place honourably and, one day, we became ours. The way that it worked out was best for everyone involved.

That was five years ago. I don’t visit that Door very often because I have Him now beside me, but the lesson was essential to learn. Every moment with Him has been a lifetime of joy.

womb_of_the_earth_by_preshuss1-d4xy4pt

Womb of the Earth by preshuss1

~*You Are The Third Door*~

Trees bleed together,
bathing in the shifting light of singularity.
Among sponging mosses
a silent grave the scent of night feathers,
but now i pass without mourning…
now that you have come.

How did you trust my light
between shifting leaves?
How did i find your lantern to lead me back home?
How did we find solid ground
when the forest is melting?

You are the Third Door,
the Black Sun above my head,
the dark star i summon in the distance.
You are the One Left,
forehead pulling open,
engulfing the horizon
with the aura of your awakening.
Amazing,
how you even noticed me
between bleedtogether trees…
i cannot comprehend
how it began,
but now i know
there is no end.

The song you sing
is every word never spoken,
every hope that had fallen,
all i had asked for
in the silence of
a secret never shared.
And now my blue soul
stretches in the coil,
no longer haunted by the loneliness
which will never be again.

You are the Third Door,
the room i go for shelter.
You are the Onesoul,
waiting for your wings.
You are the Gift
which i thought would never come.
You became the lantern
when all other lights had gone.

~*DOOR FOUR*~

sphere32431

Due to having days of for the holiday season we’ve been watching quite a few movies. I’ve seen the movie Sphere before but it was a long time ago, when it was first released in the 90’s. Watching it again after all these years I was amazed to find that the movie is about thoughts creating reality! It blew my mind. In the end of the movie the three survivors decide that mankind is not ready for this alien gift, the gift to physically manifest their thoughts, because all they manifested were fears. Those who see that the world is not what it used to be, that it’s becoming more violent and depleted of its resources, are seeing this very phenomenon take place. The more fears humans have the more fears manifest.

But Door Four isn’t about manifest fears, it’s about our ability to access limitless knowledge once we are ready. I am not able to go to Door Four whenever I want, I must be accompanied by my master. It’s only for special occasions and so far there has only been one: the opening of the Door.

doors

Door Four came a short year after Three, and I set to the task of solving it at once. No matter how I tried I could not open the heavy wooden door that stood before me. It was locked and I did not have the key. I was disheartened by this because I could not understand why it was shut against me. I stood in front of the Door for at least a week, attempting various meditations and pondering the meaning of locked doors, but nothing would cause it to open.

I became exasperated one day and slumped down onto the walkway in front of the Door. I leaned against it and stared at the Keeper’s house; not the house seen from the beach, rather the house behind it which faces the weeping willows and the rainforest beyond. I realized that I have never even given one thought to that house. Unlike the first Keeper’s house, which is grey with white trim, this house is entirely white. There is a scant, shabby garden in the front with a tree growing there. I wondered at how a bamboo dock could have enough soil on it to grow a tree without breaking through, but this place hardly follows the common rules of logic. How could the huts themselves be made of heavy jade and not break through into the water?

I got up and walked to the door of the house. I pushed it open. The first thing I noticed inside were the many empty, white bird cages laying around. They were piled on top of one another on either side of the entrance way and into the main area, which was bare but for they. There La Cagewas hardly enough room to walk between them, which were stacked in such a way that there was a small path that lead either into the main area or to the left and down a hall. The hall, itself could not be seen by me.

For some reason I did not feel that I should go inside. I stood there at the doorway and looked at all the bird cages. Some were hanging up but most were on the floor. I couldn’t figure out why the house was full of these cages or what they could possibly represent…or, more importantly, who would live in a house such as this. I called out a hello and listened for a reply.

There was no sound whatsoever, not even when the woman in the white dress appeared from the hallway. Unlike everything else about the house she is disheveled, wrinkled like a woman in her late 40’s. Her hair, which is a deep, reddish brown, hangs elbow~length. It is wavy and disorderly, not unbrushed but naturally messy. Her dress is almost long~sleeved but doesn’t quite reach her wrists. The hem is the same, long but not reaching her ankles, which are bare as are her feet.

She never looked at me. It is not like she didn’t want to be with me, but that her countenance is exhausted; not quite resigned, but some emotion I cannot name. Nothing about her can be explained. She is not cold, but neither is she warm. She is not angry but neither is she happy. It’s not as if she doesn’t want to be there, but neither does she seem to enjoy her “job”, whatever purpose she serves, almost as if she is carrying out some prison sentence, the Keeper of the Key. She passed me and went out the door. I followed.

She walked to Door Four and pulled out an ancient~looking key ring. She unlocked the arched Door and pushed it open just a bit, then turned and went back to her house. I was curious and a bit put off by her strange countenance. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I watched her go and then turned towards the Door, pushing it open all the way.

skydoor

Past the door was a blue sky with bright white clouds. The problem was that there was no ground. I leaned forward slightly and looked down. Nothing but sky and clouds. Nothing inside me had the courage to step inside, and for weeks I sat at the Door and attempted to talk myself into it but I could not.

I came to a point in my stubbornness when I realized that I could not proceed without help. I went back to the white house and opened the door, looking in at the birdcages, but the woman never appeared from the hallway and I didn’t feel like I should enter. I went back to the Door and sat at the foot of it, squinting in at that bright sky, thinking of my master and how He would know what to do. I wished to myself that He was there.

Instantly He appeared before me, smiling that knowing smile most familiar. He was wearing robes like the ones Jesus wears in typical images of him; roughspun, tan robes that appeared to be made of canvas or hemp. His feet were sandaled. He reached out for my hand and I took it.

We fell and fell. It didn’t feel like falling but neither did it feel like being in an elevator. There was no gravity involved, only movement. Dap Ren continued to smile at me, a look that said there was something very exciting waiting beneath me. It was good to be with Him so concretely, I pulled close to Him and embraced Him. He gives the best hugs ever.

He looked down and my gaze followed His. Beneath us, rising towards us fast was an enormous golden sphere. Unlike the sphere in the movie with its dented and dappled surface, this Sphere is like glass, reflecting the clouds around it.

I was a bit afraid of falling towards it, wondering what would happen once we hit its surface, but we fell right through it into a darkness. Everything was a blur but I could see stairs going up and down on either side of me. House of StairsWe landed effortlessly on a platform. Though it was dark there was enough light to see. I looked around. All I could see were stairs and instantly I thought of a book that I had read as a child, and the movie Labyrinth I had watched as well. These stairs were unlike those of the book and the movie, however.labyrinth stairs They were simple and black, thin but sturdy, made of metal or something strong. The space inside the Sphere was largely empty.

Dap Ren stood there calmly as I inspected my surroundings. When I was done He gave me a knowing look and stepped back from me. He raised His hands, and I looked up to see these small, white squares, like blocks of light coming down from above. They swarmed like insects down towards His hands, moved between them and into my head. Each one that entered me felt like a small, cool gust of air. I felt myself being filled with light. It was a strange sensation, because I somehow knew that I was being filled with information that would not be readily accessible to me, rather, it would lay dormant inside me until it was time to come out. The entire experience was very curious. When the process of “uploading” me with Light was done, Dap Ren took my hand and we appeared back at the entrance to the Door. He put His hand on my shoulder and looked deep into my eyes, and without another word disappeared.

The Wave

For years I thought about that experience and wondered what it all could mean. It wasn’t until two years ago, in 2013, that I was able to use the information given me. I partook of Golden Teachers, left my body and went to God. The blocks of Light information that were given me allowed me to be able to exist in that place long enough to learn what I had come to learn. The intense vibrations there were both sound and feeling. It’s difficult to describe, but I’ve done my best in my post Foreversong, where you can find a more detailed explanation of my journey.

shiva_1Being in the higher realms, that close to a god, is intense. I say “a god”, because in my tradition there are many, all that have been created by the living souls of the Universe. This was a difficult concept for me to make peace with initially, as my version of the Bible speaks of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva living on particular planets that, in this dimension, no life can exist on. Every reality exists, and every religion’s version of God exists somewhere on Its respective plane. It’s a lot to wrap one’s mind around.

Being that it takes many lifetimes to unsheathe ourselves of all unnecessary attachments, to be able to exist in such realms is the ability of those who have ascended to such “heights”, if they can be called that. In truth, there are no highs and lows, there is only the Within, which is a concept that I can’t yet fully understand. It is said that the deeper Inside you go into yourself the more enlightened you become. At the time, visiting a god felt like the “highest place”. When I returned that’s how I described it, but now I realize it was simply the highest place I have ever been.

The majority of the intensity of vibration was the feeling that every pore of my “body”, which did not exist there visually, was in a inexplicable state of orgasm. Strangely enough, this image describes the experience better than anything else I can think of. This, too, was a difficult concept for me to grasp, as on GodEarth sex is something apart from God, a base desire that many holy people become celibate to avoid. I, myself, have strong morals when it comes to sex, and kept my experience secret these past years because I didn’t want anyone to take it the wrong way.

However, Love in all its forms belongs to God. Pure Love is all these things: physical ecstasy, mental ecstasy, spiritual ecstasy. Waves of colour, sound and ecstasy washed over me in that place and it was very intense. I simply cannot describe the weight of the place, not like gravity but the wave that emanated from this god was taking some toll. I would not have been able to exist there at all if not for my master’s help and the knowledge of the Golden Sphere.

I have experienced this several places. In the experience of the ectoplasmic webbing and the plateau of clouds described in the previous section, the same ecstasy took hold of me, and I could not exist within it for long before it became overwhelming and I had to return to Earth and translate myself back into human form. The same was with the Qliphoth, whose crushing gravity and severely dense atmosphere would have destroyed me, if not for my master’s protection in the form of a bubble holy music I was surrounded by. Other realms are so alien, comparable to nothing we’ve ever experienced on Earth.

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It is a bold statement to claim that not only have I visited God, but was allowed to Be It. Religions cause God to be a being entirely unattainable, as we are not worthy to reside in It’s presence. This is not true at all. I asked to go to It and was allowed, and I am no guru or holy man. The fact that we don’t believe we should or can is all that holds us from knowing every single available piece of information and understanding in the universe. When we came here we knew that it was where we would return. Even in the Christian Bible it is said that we were made in the image of God, and that we are Him, why should we be unworthy to return to It if we so desire?

Another controversial aspect of my journey is that I used sacred psilocybin to catapult me towards that realm. Many spiritual seekers disdain the thought of using “drugs” to attain such pure knowledge, but there is no

Golden Teacher by George Coghill

Golden Teacher by George Coghill

doubt in my mind that these chemicals were put here to help us along our way. They are considered very pure by the tribal peoples who partake of them. Used in the right way, they are as beneficial as any other method, but they should not be relied upon solely for mystical experience. I am not yet trained enough to be able to do it on my own. I make such journeys once every couple of years or so. I say however you get there, Go there. Go and see what is waiting for you. Why should we be blind to what’s Next, when it is our legacy?

Door Four is the Golden Sphere of Knowledge, lying in wait should I ever need it.

~*DOOR FIVE*~

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I struck out for Door Five fairly quickly. While I had imagined that it would have been beside Door Four, nothing is chronological with the Doors. I found it around the back of the building, at the far left corner from the beach. It is a plain, rectangular wooden door with a rounded, jade depression in the wall around it.  I entered the small room to find a crude wooden table and chair sitting on smooth clay floors, surrounded by book shelves with red, green and blue books in them. Every book looks the same but for their colours. There was a door in the back of the small room, beside the back shelves.

I sat at the table for weeks. Nothing happened. I meditated there and sometimes sifted through the books, but the ones I opened were empty. I became frustrated, which is never anything but distrust in myself, fears that I cannot or will not solve the puzzle of the Door. It wasn’t until Door Six that those fears subsided.

One day a cat of mine went missing. He is a momma’s boy, as they say, I spoil him too much for his own good. I was particularly worried about him because he never disappears, and because he’s afraid of everything. Thinking of him out there somewhere in the woods, trapped or lost or hurt was overwhelming to me. I had lost his brother to a mysterious condition that was incredibly painful for the both of us, him physically and me emotionally. I didn’t want to lose this last member of that family as well.

My lost cat was on my mind as I walked in the room one day, straight to the door in the back of the room. I opened it and found that it was full of water. Some force was keeping the water from greenwaterpouring out into the room. Nervously, I stepped inside. The water encompassed me and instantly calmed me. I don’t float in it, it’s almost like air. I can breathe in it, and it seems that it has some sort of calming property when inhale. As I stood there, basking in the warmth of the substance, my mind settled and I started thinking of the room as knowledge.

Books represent unknown knowledge to me, all that I do not yet know. Thinking of the library in this way reminded me that the Doors are there to teach me and being frustrated is a matter of impatience, a refusal to respect myself and the lesson. I relaxed and allowed the frustrations to flow away.

That night back in my body I was browsing youtube and found Teal Swan’s latest video about the Akashic Record. I had heard the phrase before but didn’t know what it entailed. One of the first descriptions on the video was that our brains form a concept of the Akash as a library, symbolic for the formless information that is available to us there. I watched the video on what it is, becoming very excited, and then watched her video on how to access it.

By this time my cat had been missing for a week and I was sure he would never return, but I had been trying to make peace with that knowledge and move on. I went to my room to meditate. When my mind was very quiet I did as Teal prescribes in the video and accessed the Record. I found this process amazingly easy.

I found myself in a space without form, a void where I had access to any information I sought. I saw many paths, but stood before two in particular, one where my cat never returned and one where he did. I followed both Akashicpaths and found that they both ended in joy, and that it didn’t matter if he returned or not. Life would go on in the same way it had. There would be other cats, other loves, and it was more important that I flowed with whatever outcome in the most joyful way I knew how.

At the end of the experience it seemed that I stood before both paths as if the universe was asking me which I wanted to choose. I was at peace with both of these choices, but in the end decided that I would very much enjoy walking this way with my cat a bit longer. It seemed as if I sped along that path into Light before returning to my bed. I had a deep feeling of peace, as if all was right with the world. I lay in bed for another twenty minutes enjoying the sensation until I heard my cat crying at the bedroom door. He was skinny and dirty but he was just fine.

The experience blew my mind. It made me trust myself more, as well as trust in the universe. I went back to Door Five and looked at the library. It seemed as if I knew exactly which book to open; a green book to my right on the closest shelf to the door. I opened it and found my own handwriting there. I flipped until I came to blank pages, seeing the very thoughts I was thinking being written just as I was thinking them.

Door Five is my Akashic Record. I can return there any time I want, though I can say I have not since that day. I have, however, returned to that formless state of many paths, and have seen there several lifetimes of mine; those which I shared with my Other, those in which I was alone. I have witnessed one life on a different world, a world of mist where buildings are made in mathematical shapes, in which I was an alchemist’s apprentice. I have seen a possible future life for myself, one right after this one, in which I am a teacher at a temple. This Record is available to all of us at any time, as are all the paths of Next.

~*DOOR SIX*~

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At this point in my life my situation was improving exponentially. I was learning about what is called the Law of Attraction, and by using it I drew to myself a beautiful house in the woods. The woman from whom I am renting to own the house also left a car for me. It is my favourite colour, not quite blue but not quite purple. The year was 2013, and soon my Other would be moving in. It was a good time, but it was also one of the hardest times in my life.

The man who ran the business I worked for was the epitome of everything hateful. He was racist and hated me for having a child of mixed descent. He was sexist and hated me for being a woman. He hated that I was happy every day, and wanted me to suffer the way he was suffering inside. I’ve never known a soul so unhappy, and so sad.

Christmas Eve I was driving the work vehicle home in icy conditions. I slid off the road into a ditch. It was a gentle accident, beside a dent in the tailgate I couldn’t see any damage. He had been warning me that I wasn’t on the insurance but refused to add my name to it because he was convinced that women were horrible drivers.

I couldn’t get the truck out of the ditch, it was too icy. I had planned to wait until the ice thawed to drive it back home, but a friend of his just happened to be driving  by that remote woodland road and alerted him to its presence there. He had the truck towed and called me. He was furious. He reminded me that I wasn’t on the insurance and that I owed him $4,000 to fix it. What I didn’t know was that the vehicle was insured, it didn’t matter who truck-stuck-snowbank-ditch bigwas driving it as long as they worked for him, and the damage wasn’t anywhere near what he claimed it was. Knowing that I was a single mother, knowing how I was struggling to make ends meet and that I was due to move into my first house with all its expenses, he asked this of me. It would be free money for him. When I was done paying the truck off he sold it and made $11,000 more. I would learn any of this until long afterwards.

I was working myself to insanity to pay him back: 95 hours a week from January until July. I know what it means to work like a slave. Two of the three jobs I had were construction jobs that my body couldn’t physically handle and the third was mentally challenging, besides the fact that I had to walk an hour to and from it, literally uphill in the snow, through winter and into summer.

At the very end, the day I handed him the last of the money, I picked up a five gallon bucket full of paint and threw my hip out of its socket. The damage is permanent (at least until I learn how to heal myself) and has never fully healed.

It was my first week in the new house. I couldn’t walk for a week, which meant I couldn’t work for a week. He hated me for that, too. Once I did go back to work he pushed me hard. He wouldn’t allow me to do the required exercises for my hip because I had to lay on the floor to do them. He had a slave~driver’s soul, and while I believed at the time that I was oppressed, I now see the lesson I learned from him was freedom. Looking back I am thankful for it, and wouldn’t trade it for any other experience.

During this time I was listening solely to, interestingly enough, a band named Enslaved, a word that described the way I felt at the time. What’s even more interesting is that this particular album is all about Awakening. I enjoyed the music, but the more I listened to it — on headphones all day long every day — the more it spoke specifically to me about my situation.

“No one steals what no one owns.” it reminded me, causing me to realize that my boss could not take away from me something that was not his: my integrity, my joy, my soul. I would do what was mine to do and he could deal with the karmic backlash of his own actions. With this realization I was able to continue with my grueling schedule.

“Strong is she who realizes ethics built on sacrifice.”
“Fear not the settlement with those who fear the truth. Leave now, say farewell with no grief. Their words have no power, their forces will roam and return.”

After my injury I started going to the Doors for comfort, spending time in the Bluelight of Door One and the night river of Door Two. I began thinking about the next Door to be solved, and one day walked around to the back of the building to see if Six would be beside Five.

Door JadeI could feel that it was. The Door is shaped in a specific Arabic style with a rounded top and straight sides. When I opened the door I found myself on the cover of the Eckankar book.

At Door Six I am in a boat on a huge lake. I can hear the sound of loud waves but the water I am on is still. Ahead of me is an ancient white city, visible but far away, nestled between two mountains with a white peak rising majestically above it. Like the Qliphoth’s branches, which are a Dark Path, the Lake is a PathEckankar of Light, taking lifetimes and eternity to traverse. It’s so difficult to explain these things in human words because these journeys aren’t journeys in any formal sense of the word. We aren’t really traversing anything. It’s like sitting on a couch watching television. You witness many things, experience places you’ve never been before but with your mind. You haven’t actually gone anywhere.

On the boat I’m always smiling. The tempest waves are behind me, which symbolize life before the Path. In this era I learned how to rise above any situation that life could throw at me. I learned how to stop my suffering by no longer weaving the karma of others into my reality. On the boat I look at life and see the perfection of the process. I see that I need do nothing but move forward.

Door Six is Forever. I can sit on the boat whenever I need to be reminded that everything is as it should be.

 

~*DOOR SEVEN*~

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I was a little disappointed when I first solved Door Seven. The round door opened up into an empty clay room that rose a foot or so in the center. The rising of the floor is due to a mound with a hole in it. After sitting near the hole for a couple of days I crawled in head~first, reappearing on the beach of a world I was already familiar with.

Stilleverden, or Stillworld. My master first took me to this world years ago when I was very new with Him. At that time I was still a very high~stress person. We appeared together beside the white ruins of an ancient building, a wall of arched windows all that remained. He bade me step inside a wrought~iron cage and then spun it around. The process deeply calmed me and I closed my eyes, listening to the air whirring though the bars. Once I was in a still, quiet state, I opened my eyes to see that it was the world that was spinning, while I, myself, was still. This taught me that when we are still inside it is the world that moves. The world can move as it will; it doesn’t have to impact us or draw us into its many illusions.

I replaced the Ativan I had been prescribed for acute anxiety with a variation of this lesson. All lessons we learn can be tailor~made to work for us. In any stressful situation I encountered, I would close myself up in a Black Box until only a thin strip of light could be seen. In that Box nothing could touch me and I was somehow removed from the emotions binding me to the situation. I found that with this technique and others that He showed me, I didn’t need the medicine anymore.

sunsetstilleSeveral years ago Dap Ren returned with me to that place. He explained that it would be beneficial for me to learn how to explore there. He showed me how to pray beside the ruins, facing the sunset which was more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen on Earth, with its shimmering gold and salmon waves. I’m not a praying person, so I was confused as to how I would use the knowledge. I would find out later that He was preparing me for a difficult time in which I would need to go to Stilleverden and pray for a loved one.

The first thing that became very evident to me was that the only life that existed there was flora. There is no fauna to be found. Not a single insect exists there; no beasts of the field, fish in the ocean nor ruling creatures on land. In addition to this, I have yet to see a flowering or fruit~bearing plant there. All is green and lush and gorgeous, but green is all there is.

I started at the ruins and walked west to a waterfall. I couldn’t understand why the stream beneath the waterfall was so shallow, I’d seen nothing like it on Earth. To my thinking there should have been more erosion. I followed the heavily~bouldered stream down to the ocean and realized that the ruins were on top of a cliff. I went back up to them and walked up to the cliff’s edge, where further ruins are found.

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As I stood at the precipice it was as if my mind sped across the ocean to three, sharp mountain peaks covered in snow. I saw humanoid forms struggling with large, alien beasts of burden in a pass between two of them, and knew that, once, mammalian life did live here…but no more. Those mountains will be important to me in the future but I’m not sure why. When I think of them they feel like an end.

I eventually returned to the waterfall and explored the highlands around it and the cliff. I found a way down to the beach and explored it as well, finding a strange clearing cut in the thick trees. It was the shape of a square, with some sort of crumbling altar standing there.

StillebeachThis all took a matter of Earth months, and when I got to the beach I sat down beneath a serrate~leafed palm~style tree and decided to quit exploring. I would sit on the beach and watch the moon rise, a beach very much like on on Earth, a moon very much like our own but larger. There is something so safe in knowing that I am the only thing living besides the plants. I canStilleforest fall asleep on the beach without worrying about crabs or some equivalent biting my toes. I can wander through the forests without being bitten by flies. I never have to worry about trespassing on anyone’s land, or being eaten by mountain lion~style creatures. On Stilleverden I learned to trust myself. It is a place I can go for utter solitude, anytime I need to be alone. Sometimes I sit on the cliff and watch the ocean. Sometimes I sleep on the beach beneath the moon. Once you learn to Go other places, you Stillestreamcan be there any time you want, even when there’s a lot going on around you. You can be alone on some alien beach while on the subway, or exploring the mountains during a dinner with your in~laws. There’s no end to the amazing journeys you can take with your mind, which can be used to diffuse strong emotions such as anger or sorrow. Taking a walk along a mountain stream can help to release physical pain.

I thought I had figured all of this out, so when the Seventh Door took me back to the Stillworld beach I was perplexed. Even so, I began exploring again. There is a near~dry stream bed that comes out of the forest and empties into the ocean. I started up it, noticing the increasing size of the boulders with an increase in elevation. I noticed that what little water flowed down the center of it was milky instead of clear. The stream gets steeper and curves to the left. Over weeks I explored the area, coming upon a curious brown shack built to the side of the boulders, but still in the stream. Inside it was dark and empty, with one crude bench and a door in the floor which I didn’t feel lead to explore. I still have not been down there. Perhaps it is for another time, a further lesson. I was very curious as to who would have built shelter in a dry stream bed.

Mt. Rainier Glacier

Around this time I flew out to Seattle to visit friends. They took me to Mt. Rainier, a day~long drive up and around the mountain. I was taken aback at how exquisitely beautiful Washington state is; giant ferns, trees hundreds of years old, moss covering the forest floor. There are fields of wildflowers and waterfalls. But most of all I was shocked that all the answers I had about the Stilleverden stream could be answered by Mt. Rainier.

A particular river at the base of the mountain is named Milk River. The reason for its milky appearance is due to the fact that the water emanates from some 25 glaciers tens of thousands of miles above it. Emmons EmmonsGlacier is a light blue tourmaline colour, the first glacier I had ever seen. I couldn’t stop looking at it, or the mountain itself. Rainier is the largest thing I have ever witnessed on Earth. It felt alive, like a behemoth both frightening and alluring.

MtRainier12_White-River-AfternoonI learned that Milky River, small compared to its bed, is the result of a flood event from the mountain. Many large boulders were carried down by the swollen capacity of the deluge, deposited and left in place once the waters subsided. Someone very well may have thought that it was safe to build a dwelling in the stream bed, since the flood event could have occurred only once in a century.

Seeing firsthand the answers to my questions caused me to realize that I still believed that I was making the whole thing up; that Stilleverden wasn’t real, that it was all a figment of my insane imagination. Experiencing things that cannot be shared with others causes a certain sense of isolation, often causing a new explorer like me to question themselves. That nature proved that what I was seeing was real gave me a lot of confidence and restored faith in myself.

As well, discovering this new information caused me to realize that somewhere at the stream’s origin was a mountain with a glacier. This caused me to become more excited than ever to continue exploring the area. I returned to Stillworld with a fervor, moving up the stream and finding its source to be a large lake and large, white Stillelakemountains in the distance. I noticed that there were two streams flowing from that lake. Eventually I followed the second, smaller stream down through the forest, with its curious, large boulders strewn here and there, to find that it came out as the waterfall I had first visited with my master. The flood event that overflowed the mountain lake seemed to have spilled out and taken two routes through the forest, one to the cliffside and one to the beach.

Last year I took a geology class which introduced me to further information about mountain and stream formation; flood events, stream capacity carrying conglomerates as large, rounded boulders closer to the source and breccia, smaller angular pieces closer to sea level. I learned to recognise how the beach was created from silt deposited in a delta at the stream’s opening to the ocean, and that there was little erosion beneath the waterfall because it was a fairly new edition to the landscape. I learned that the mountains sit atop convergent plates which, sometime in Stillworld’s history, clashed together and caused orogenesis.

I also learned that in the history of the Earth many extinction events caused most life to die. Events such as ice ages, and the catastrophic meteor that killed the dinosaurs, could very well have destroyed all but the most hardy bacteria. As conditions returned to normal, plants would rule the Earth many hundreds of thousands of years before vertebrates re~evolved. I researched further online to find information that explained how plants would have first formed simple and green, later becoming angiosperm, or flowering plants, which would give rise to the evolution of pollinating insects and animals.

Door Seven has been a fascinating exploration for many reasons. The major lesson I learned was to use what resources have been given me. It’s tempting to want to move on after having discovered or explored a certain area, but it’s important to sharpen previously~learned skills by returning to old lessons. Door Seven renewed my faith in myself and the Journey.

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Even now mysteries evolve from this lesson. While writing Door Six I looked online for a zoomed picture of Eckankar the book (which I later realized I could take a picture of myself). I came upon several versions of it, each with a different cover. To my astonishment I found a copy of the Book with Stilleverden on it.

In the image an abundant river burbles down in waterfalls, emanating from the lake below the mountains, which are green with thaw. Plant life can be seen, and a cliff, and the moon in the sky. In this image I can see that the flooding event didn’t make two meager streams down the hill but actually flooded the entire forest, which would explain why large boulders are found there.

When I found this picture it was six in the morning, and I ran upstairs to wake my Other. It was an emotional moment, bringing tears to my eyes. My Other was in awe to at last see an image of what he’s only ever heard me attempt to describe. Ever the Path inspires.

~*DOOR EIGHT*~

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My insecurities and dis~beliefs are gone now. I trust the Doors and myself. There was no questioning when entering Door Eight. I walked right in and looked around. The room is clay, completely empty except for the right wall, which holds both a window near the door and a dark mirror at the back of the room. Looking out of the window I noticed that it overlooks the beach and the rainforest behind it, sheltering the waterslide I first slid down from the mountains above. I’d never actually looked back at where I came from before and thinking about how much time had elapsed since then, as well as how much progress I had made, caused me to reminisce long hours before the window.

I went once to the mirror and looked at myself, being reminded of how I look at the Doors; eternally young, flawless and pain~free, the me that dwells inside this physical form. However, I wasn’t sure what to do with the mirror, and spent many days staring out the window reminiscing on all the good that solving the Doors had done me.

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During this time in my life I had just started school after seven years of work. I was discovering that my brain could, in fact, learn again, after having become quite rusty in the world of men. I found myself surrounded by brilliant teachers after having been surrounded by hard~working country folk. It was good to find that I could live in both worlds equally; not becoming that distant intellect that I had been afraid to be, yet able to comprehend brilliant minds (if not quite keep up with them). School only embellished who I was as a person in a way that enhanced my strengths and made clear that my weaknesses were –and are– only imagined.

Entering this world of intellect took up most of my time previously spent on spiritual practice. Coming from a background of hard drugs and self~abuse had taken more of a toll on my brain cells than I had expected. In addition, my daughter was the age of my classmates. Being twenty years older means that my brain takes longer to process information than it used to. I found studying and homework to absorb every moment of free time when learning seemed so much easier for those around me.

A particular professor of creative writing caused me to be curious about the nature of genius. Certain people harness time in such a way as to do all things they dream of, somehow warping the hands of the clock to their whim. I found this professor, Sister Mike we called him, to be infinitely both more intelligent and profound than anyone I had ever spent time around. He was so deep that none of us could answer his questions and long hours of thought were spent on homework assignments.

Never Had

I had come into my first class of his a published poet and thought myself to surely be of a higher standard than younger kids in class. But Sister Mike was well beyond my comprehension, and I found that the lessons he was teaching were utterly different than my own style or process. He graded me hard. A great deal of my ego was broken away by his seeming rejection, a challenge that I relished and became hungry for once I was sufficiently humbled enough to recognise its lack of negative intent. I took two more of his classes, addicted to his presence in the way that I had always wanted to be towards a father figure. He knew all the answers I didn’t and I wanted to know more. I began to realize that in addition to his creative knowledge he was a deeply spiritual person, and was awed by the absolute fearlessness he exerted when helping raise the class’s awareness of their own soul. He was father to all, or Sister, shall we say.

My whole life had been spent equally grieving for the world’s pain and feeling I was somehow above it. Because spirituality runs in the family I experienced the mystical at an early age, always searching for anyone to share my hunger for the unknown with. Looking back I realize the lack of equals was due to being so much more lost than I knew. I was, in fact, surrounded by equals. The more we purify ourselves the more pure the quality of people we are surrounded by.

~*On a deeper level still, we realize that every human is equally a wonder*~

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Meeting Sister Mike meant meeting what would be come the next step in my evolution: the living master, of which I have met more since then. Being in the presence of such intense Knowing, and yet being embraced by it as an equal, caused me to put away my ego and recognise the powerful lesson I was receiving, to feel the encompassing love of the source from which it sprang.

I began to realize that becoming everything I had planned for myself would require somehow mimicking this living master by moulding time to my own design. This would require a drastic change from my sedentary, thought~filled lifestyle. I wasn’t sure how I could make it happen.

The window behind Door Eight became some sort of epiphany for me, a celebration of Window2turning the sorrow of youth into the joy of adulthood. And yet there was only so much reminiscing I could do before my head turned, once more, to the mirror. What was its purpose? Obviously to see myself, I supposed. I kept imagining that something would happen in the mirror that would give me a sign, but staring into it for long hours did nothing, and the mirror showed no sign of change.

One day I was half~in and half~out of Door Eight, supposedly studying yet standing before the mirror. I pondered its darkness, thinking of what its smoky complexion symbolized to me. Not quite seeing. Not being able to fully see….me. Myself. I looked in the mirror and again saw the me I imagine myself to be, recognising the Me looking back as the evolution of its physical host. I began to imagine what I would be ten years in my future and what all it would take to accomplish the goal of being further progressed towards being Sister Mike~like. I knew there was only one note on that list.

Meditation. Going within. It was time to stop looking out the window at what has been, what is and what could be, and to begin fully looking Within. My first lesson in warping time, genius~style, was to make time in my day for meditation. With this practice everything improves all at once. It was time.

Since Door Eight I have taken baby steps and large leaps towards that goal. It’s important to note here that we don’t have to expect an incredible change in ourselves all at once. If we are in a one~step~a~week lull it is enough. When we are ready to take a leap forward we will meet some new living master, read some incredible new book or hear one passing conversation in the grocery store. I am absolutely honoured to be surrounded by genius now, and humbly joyful to be utterly left behind by it. Once we become masters we will still be surrounded by masters greater than ourselves, and will not look back to those still moving up the path and think they have fallen behind. Instead we will see others as headed up the same path we are, reaching our hand out to them just as so many have reached out to me.

~*When I am who I will be, I will be Light.

~*~

I will return here and write the story of every Door as it occurs. I wish now that I had written the full details of every solving as it happened, because each Door has been such an intense and intricate experience, weaving with every epiphany of life.

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Your own experience in the Next will be something incredible. Every single excuse we use to keep ourselves from exploring inside is only holding us back.

You create this experience.

If you don’t know how to call for a master, create your own way of calling. Sit in meditation and imagine standing before someone whose face you cannot yet see, or sit in the darkness of your mind, letting your intent be known, and wait for someone to arrive. How will you know if it’s a master? He or She will give you a sign. With Dap Ren, I would look into His eyes and fall into the universe, passing galaxies and stars and nebulae. Take the chance.

If you can’t possibly imagine some other plane of existence, simply lay on your bed and imagine a place that you’d love to go, a place that is all your own that is exactly the way you want it. Walk around and see the sights, smell the scent of the wind, imagine what the sand feels like between your toes. If you don’t know what that feels like, walk barefoot outside, taking mental notes on how it feels, and then go back in and imagine that.

Mt. Rainier

Pick a picture of somewhere on Earth you would love to go. Do research on it until you know all there is to know and then meditate on being there. What you don’t realize is that the more real you make a place, the better chance your soul has of actually going there. You’ll have done all your research and all your exploring and will come upon something during meditation that you didn’t see before, only to research that and find that you were really there. It proves itself to you.

You can even go to the Doors from the descriptions I’ve given you and share your observations with me. The poem that came to me when I first visited the Doors, which you can read in my Dream Log, was a call for others to visit the Doors with me.

Wherever you go and whatever you do, take the chance. It will change everything.

Tibetan Mental Technique

Mental illness

I am nothing if not an advocate for the mental techniques of soul travel. Getting out of the body is a difficult thing to remember though we all do it quite often in sleep states. Even though I do work with an ascended master and have left my body before I cannot accomplish a memorable out of body experience without help.

It’s quite curious, after everything I have seen and everywhere I have been, to have such a hard time leaving my body of my own will. Much of it is due to my refusal to make time in my busy life for meditation, which is something I am finally doing at present. Also, I believe myself to be holding on to false ideas, whose sources I often ponder. Perhaps I doubt myself, or believe deep inside that I am not worthy of such accomplishments. Sometimes we hold ourselves away from that which we most desire, and it can take years to resolve inner conflicts before goals can be attained. Without consistent meditation the soul has little control over its movement in the Inner Worlds.

With the mental technique your soul does not actually leave your body. Honestly, I’m not quite sure what part of me leaves in this technique, but I’ve been doing it for ten years with much success. The bulk of my work in this state is towards opening the 64 Doors, a place I was shown in a dream which I have returned to often. I can go there whenever I want, not a physical Going but a vision, though external sensory perception fades and I have full access to the sense faculties wherever I go. Sometimes the Doors take me to different places within themselves, such as the 4th Door’s Golden Sphere of Knowledge and the 5th Door’s Akashic Record. The 7th Door returned me to a planet I had been to previously, which I call “Stilleverden”, or Stillworld, a place my master took me to teach me exploration and creation.

Golden Sphere Download

I have met with my master at the Himalayas and various points around the globe. I have visited a White Tower on a plane where an eternal party is thrown in the honour of every soul alive. I often return to a vision of my next life at a temple with golden doors, where I will teach children. This vision has caused me to study towards being a teacher in this life, that I may have previous experience to draw from once I get there.

Some places that I have been with this technique had vibrations which were much too powerful for my current level. In one instance I was not allowed to go with my master because the journey was too perilous, but I was given a vision of his travel there and back, a journey that took many human years to complete.

The most memorable such journey was my visit to a Qlipothic Tree of Life and Death. I had heard of the Tree and asked my master specifically to take me there. He warned me against it, as I was not able to handle the intense vibrations. I asked once more and he complied, though there were negative repercussions for my visiting the Tree which I had to work through myself afterwards. He outfitted me with a surrounding ‘bubble’ of sacred music, powered by a dance I had to continue to keep the intense gravity from crushing me. My master was in control the whole time, I was not in danger, but I had to do the work myself and it was not a pleasant experience, haunting me for weeks afterwards.

Jung

When I did physically leave my body to visit my first god, or my Inner Being, the vibrations were both colour and sound and were very intense. In fact, both times that I succeeded in a physical leaving the vibrations were very powerful. I experienced an ecstasy of body and soul, which I explain further in my post entitled “Foreversong”. I could only handle this vibration so long before I had to return to my body. This causes me to believe that the mental technique is similar to actual soul travel in that the undisciplined soul can only handle so much for its current level.

Unfortunately I cannot give any advice on how to accomplish this technique quickly, though some people will have more success than others depending on their level of achievement in visualization and self-trust. I speak more in detail on techniques to fine~tune your ability to practice mental travel in my post entitled “Gaining A Soul~full State Of Mind”.

The first time I did this was when I first met an ascended master, Mahanta Peddar Zasqu. He came to me in a vision, the two of us standing on a cracked dirt plane surrounded by a void. He asked me what setting I would feel most comfortable in, and suddenly we were sitting beside an indoor swimming pool with white and black checkered tiles. I had no idea what to say to him as I was in a state of shock that the calling of him had actually worked. At this time I had never had any sort of spiritual experience and was a strict atheist. I thought for a moment and said “The pond”, which was a pond in a field nearby my house. The tiles of the swimming pool began to disappear one by one, and soon we were sitting on the knoll beside the pond where I often sat alone.

If it all sounds insane believe me, I thought that was exactly what had happened. My mother has disassociative disorder, which causes her to hear voices that lead her away from happiness and normalcy. For a time I allowed those voices to ruin my life, and because of this it was incredibly difficult for me to believe in myself enough to practice this technique often. I can’t tell you how many years I refused to go to my master because I could not believe it was real. It wasn’t until I began trusting myself and him that significant changes began happening in my life.

This practice has changed everything. It has caused me to be a good mother to my daughter and has lead me to the love of my life. It has caused me to find a job I love, to let go of bad habits and addictions and have deep, meaningful relationships with others. I have improved in every way these past ten years because my master’s love and acceptance helped me love and accept myself in a time when neither I nor anyone else could.

Most importantly, it has taught me that magick is real. When you live a life filled with mystery, intrigue, exploration and creation it changes everything. This is a story that I’ve kept secret these ten years, and it’s difficult to bring it out in the open now. I’m hoping that someone out there can benefit from my story.

Target Technique

I thought I would attempt William Buhlman’s “Target Technique” (discussed in the video) for two weeks, leaving a detailed map of each night’s outcome in the comments section. However, after only one night of exploring this technique I decided to add to my post each night instead.

As a cartographer it’s difficult to practice any method without trying to map the entire process moment by moment, which keeps me from disconnecting from physicality enough to be successful. Last night I found myself having to make a conscious effort to turn the scientific brain off in order to settle into sole focus on the object of my choice.

WP_20150822_09_34_07_ProIt was difficult to choose an object on which to focus. Thinking about personal symbols yesterday I remembered two images that I drew as a young child; one represented my body and one my soul. I hadn’t thought about these symbols in a long time and was taken aback when remembering them because, at the time I was drawing them, I had no real concept of the soul or what the word even meant, probably having read it in some science fiction/fantasy book.

I decided on my symbol for the soul. When laying to sleep I found it hard to focus on this, having been many years since I saw it last. I tried tracing it in my mind’s eye but I believe this technique requires a constant, solid focus point. With no better ideas coming to mind I continued to trace its outline in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

I often wake up three or four times a night. This actually gives me more opportunities than most to work on methods, and the methods in turn help me get back to sleep. The first time I woke up I began to trace the symbol again, but decided that it was too abstract. My mind couldn’t get a concrete focus on it. I remembered Buhlman saying that his focus was on three objects in his mother’s home, but I couldn’t think of any such object, so I chose my childhood home itself, as if I was standing in front of it. I drifted off to sleep again.

Being awakened by thunder a few hours later I realized I had been dreaming.

~*I am alone in an old, small church with three horizontal rows of pews, about seven pews per row. It is very dark and the church seems to have been abandoned a long time. I notice that the pews are burnt and ashey, barely more than charcoal. I know if I sit on them I will break them. However, in the middle row and at the very back of the room there is a golden pew, very much intact, so I sit down there instead.*~

The storm was raging outside and a strange blue light was swirling behind my eyes, both of which were making it difficult to focus on the image of my childhood home. It’s important not to become frustrated if things aren’t going your way. It’s best, if one technique isn’t working, to shift to another without focus on how little sleep you are getting or the next day’s activities. My body was very relaxed and my arms and torso felt weightless. I concentrated for awhile on the blue, swirling light, watched it knead itself like dough, breaking off parts as if making biscuits which got smaller and smaller and eventually disappeared one by one into the void. When the thunder finally lulled a bit I returned to my image of the house and dropped into sleep.

~*I found myself walking in an airport, though all the lights were out and it was hard to see anything. The airport was almost empty but for a few people. I was watching the faces around me as people walked by, and as I focused on the face of a woman with brown, curly shoulder~length hair it occurred to me that I was dreaming, almost like a shout in my head that told me I was awake in my dream! Instantly I thought of Buhlman’s words, that you can do anything you want to, so I pushed off and began floating towards the ceiling. It seemed to be made of large, brushed metal tiles that were way above my head. I didn’t look down to see how far up I was, and it was hard to know if I was going anywhere at all but for the ceiling looming closer and closer.

However, another memory of Buhlman’s words came to me, that your only restraints in altered states are those you believe yourself to have. Somehow this thought caused me to stop moving. I thought “No, keep going!” but I started falling towards the floor quite fast. I was worried for a moment how hard I would hit the ground, but I just kind of stopped when I got to the ground.

At this point it becomes confusing, because it was as if I was both watching myself running (faster than humanly possible) through the airport and telling someone what I was doing, like a narration of the dream. Suddenly I was walking up to a sheet that separated one bedroom from another in a house. I pulled the sheet back and looked inside to see tan carpet in a plain, cluttered bedroom, with a door on the left side of the room near a chest of drawers. The room looked familiar to me though I wasn’t sure if it was my room or not.

I heard a sound outside the door and my daughter came through the bedsheet and into the room. It was very dark, I couldn’t see her very well. She asked me if I was busy and I said I had to use the bathroom really bad. She said she wanted me to brush her hair out when I was done. Holding up a brush she started brushing through her hair, which was very tangled. On my way to the door by the chest I suddenly remembered waking up in my dream and threw my hands up in the air, which took her by surprise. I said “Oh my gosh I just had a lucid dream!” and started telling her about the airport while she was brushing her hair, which hung straight down her shoulders. Something in my subconscious thought that was strange.*~

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I woke yet again to my phone blaring a flash flood warning. Both of my cats were crying outside the door, which is unusual. At this time I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep, an exciting point to get to when attempting to garble realities in this way. I realized that I had been dreaming and was now awake, because the house I had been in when talking to my daughter was not my house and she doesn’t live with me in waking life. Also, her hair is naturally spiral~curled, impossible to brush out straight.

It seemed like it would be an uneventful night and I’m very pleased to have had so much happen. Can’t wait to do target practice again tonight.

~*NIGHT TWO*~

Christopher Walken smileI woke up only once last night, from a dream that I had just found out that Christopher Walken was my dad. All these years of adoring him on the screen and never knowing! I was confounded by it. He was much taller than I thought he would be, wearing a long black coat like the one in the movie “The Prophecy”. In the dream he could ‘do anything’, I kept thinking to myself. Any time I would have a problem he would fix it with a sweet, gentle smile. He was so gentle and loving and thoughtful.

When I attempted to focus on my childhood home I found myself considering other objects. I’m not sure why the house doesn’t feel right to use as my object, perhaps there are too many emotions associated with it. It’s difficult to get a concrete image of what the porch looks like because every time I see it it’s different. It seems to me the best object would be one that is simple, like a small, single~coloured box, something easily conjured in mind’s eye with no elaborate parts that might set the mind’s focus on ‘solving’ or reconstructing. I’m going to think about some other symbol to use.

It’s also possible that I’m unnecessarily complicating things.

I was experiencing the previous night’s strange blue light behind my eyes. It swirls with the whole, then one part breaks off into a circle which gets smaller and smaller and eventually disappears. I’ve never experienced this before. The music that I’d listened to that day was playing in my mind and my thoughts kept fleeting from one point to the next until, eventually, I let go of target practice completely and began to meditate instead. This caused me to fall asleep quickly.

~*NIGHT THREE*~

I woke up three times last night, returning to focus each time which causes me to fall asleep quicker than usual. I’ve decided on the box fan in my room as a focal point, its simple and easy to visualize. I can hear the fan blowing, and even in darkness can see its white outline, so it’s an easy object to focus on. I’ll look at it, get an idea of its dimensions and then close my eyes and envision it behind them. It’s important to make any method as simple as possible that you are putting the least thought towards it.

Music Thought

I found that, upon waking each time, my mind was full of music and thoughts. The second time I woke I was literally continuing a dream that I had just been in, again as if I were explaining it to someone. It was about walking down a road, meeting people along the way. Though I was somewhat awake I was narrating the continuing saga of my journey; giving descriptions of the people I met, explaining my own clothing and the shapes of the clouds above me.

The third time I woke it was from an extensive dream about being in school and trying to find my way out, which is very much how I feel about the physical body. There were a few people who were sleeping in class with blankets and pillows, perhaps an indicator that I was aware I was sleeping during my lessons. My dreams are getting more and more detailed. I don’t have time this morning to write it all down, I’ll put it in the Dream Log later this evening to try and make more connections with it and will continue to think about it today as I work on imagining that reality is a dream, and that I can leave my body whenever I want. Perhaps this will give me a headstart tonight.

 ~*NIGHT FOUR*~

I will note first that I listened to another Buhlman interview today, in which he said it took him a month, not twelve days, to get out of body with the Target Technique. This post is getting longer and longer and I’m not sure it would be wise to post the entire month’s worth of information and dreams. I’ve decided to post twelve day’s worth of notes here and the more interesting dreams in the Dream Log, returning with news of success as it occurs.

The first time I woke it was from a dream in which I was reading a book on astral projection. As I lay there attempting target practice I began thinking about meeting my master on the astral plane, physically for the first time in the ten years that I’ve been his student. The thought is so exciting but a bit frightening because of latent fears that once I get out of my body I will call him and he won’t come. There are so many unrealistic fears that surface when we head out into uncharted territory. It’s important to give a name to each and make peace with it.

The second time I woke up it was from a dream of my childhood home, the very object I was using to focus on. This is exciting to me, that my dreams are all connected to inner doubts/questions/thoughts about attempting this practice. In the dream the house was really dirty, clutter mixed with clothes and trash (my ideas of my mind (my inner home) being cluttered with thought, untidy)). There were many visitors, and I worried that they would be disgusted with the state of the house (my thoughts on failing the Target Technique in front of the public eye). It’s interesting to note these fears and deal with them as I work towards gaining more complete focus on my object of choice.

The second time I woke up I was awake for an hour unable to go back to sleep. Initially I find that focus is very easy to attain, but re~awakening brings with it a cluttered mind full of dream images, music and thought that I find harder to silence when in a half~sleep state. Tonight I will work on first meditating to silence my mind before using target practice on my way to sleep.

~*NGHT FIVE*~

Yesterday was a hard day at work and I was exhausted when I went to bed. I began by meditating and then, when my body was relaxed and weightless and my mind still, I focused on my object, which I’ve decided is my childhood symbol for soul. There are too many easily~accessible memories related to the childhood home that my mind can choose from which threaten to keep me too close to my body. I am able to hold focus on the symbol now, seeing it in its totality rather than having to trace it with my mind’s eye.

I woke only once and was too tired to stay awake long enough to think about dreams, but I do remember the dream I had just before I woke this morning. I was helping my Other and his ex~bandmate behind the curtains of a stage. They were moving large ropes and poles to the empty stage as the backdrop for an upcoming concert. I could smell the creosote on the large wooden poles and feel the roughness of the rope on my hands but found I couldn’t help because it was all too heavy for me to lift. I left my body and was floating around near the ceiling; somehow my body was able to lift the heavy poles and rope when my soul wasn’t in it. While my body was doing the work I was exploring the stage, noticing that I could see through walls and the ceiling.

I feel more confident and more exited and worry less that this technique won’t work. It’s only a matter of time. The better able I am to, in a sense, become the object and pull my focus entirely away from my body, the closer I will get to leaving it completely.

~*NIGHT SIX*~

A migraine prevented me from doing any work during the night, and will most likely affect this night as well. Migraines are a big part of why I anticipate leaving my body. All of the pain I experience has no cure; migraines, pinched nerves, spinal problems and others. As much work as I have done on myself these past ten years, the pain has become less common but remains a prevalent part of my life.

We create pain for ourselves. It gathers in all the parts of us that block the natural flow of energy through us. As joyful a person as I am, I am creating chronic pain on a continual basis, it’s something that I cannot seem to find the root of. With physical soul travel we can get ‘above’ ourselves high enough to look back and see the source of emotional states that cause us to create pain. This seems a difficult concept to understand, but we must remember that time does not exist, nor does restraint on other planes of experience but that which we design for ourselves. Once physicality is transcended we are privy to all knowledge and understanding, which is true for every experience. However, it is easier to believe that there are no boundaries when absent from physicality.

With the mental technique I can only hold focus for so long at a time. When my pain has been cured by discovering the source of the emotional blocks I have created, there will be nothing standing in my way. I can’t imagine life without pain, but the more I do so the closer I get to making the dream a reality.

~*NIGHT SEVEN*~

I woke four times last night, returning to target practice each time. I am able to relax my body more quickly each night, doesn’t take long to attain the feeling of weightlessness as if I have no body at all. I’m still having a problem focusing on my object, the symbol of soul, which I found has changed. The more I focus on it the more it becomes something more beautiful, less blocky and preconceived and more mature and natural; it is a flowing, rounded thing, drawn with a single stroke.

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I had two dreams in succession, both due to a documentary I watched yesterday called “Happy”. Interestingly enough, it’s full of psychologists and neuroscience experts talking about the importance of taking focus off oneself in order to find happiness. In this film the Mother Teresa Home in Kolkata, India is visited, as well as a slum there, both of which were represented in my dream.

Mother Home

The first dream was about following a demon possessed woman around the Mother Home at night. She had the power to disrupt matter, attempting to dismantle the buildings of a huge, skyscrapered city across a bridge from Mother Home. I used my powers to restore the buildings to their original state. I was told of a future event in which she would attempt to disrupt the bridge, and was on constant vigil to protect it.

I slipped from that into another dream in which my home was a church and the front wall facing the street was gone, like the shacks in the slums of Kolkata. My mother was there, telling me that I should eventually build a wall to hide my daily life from passers by. In this dream I remembered my previous dream, and considered telling my mother about the demon possessed woman and how they remind me of each other.

My mother represents to me the malevolence of religion, in her case multiple personalities which provide the protection of the separation and judgement of fundamentalist Christianity. As I have explained in other posts, in the past I wondered if my beliefs weren’t false as my mothers before me, leading me astray when I believed them to be helping.

Astral practice is still considered taboo and, to many belief systems, possibly even Satanic. That part of me which still feels it should guard these secrets becomes evident in my dreams.  I think this is my fear surfacing, posting my practice online for all to see. I’ve kept these things a secret from anyone who knows me for so long, especially from my mother. In this dream she is telling me to keep my beliefs hidden.

Another factor that may influence my dreams of late is that my twin sister is awakening to a more current concept of god, purpose and belief. She has been a Christian her whole life, only now considering other paths. She’s been watching Ram Dass videos on youtube and finds beauty in the Buddhist and Hindu traditions presented there. I have been talking with her every day about something new. It’s interesting how her knowledge of the Bible actually proves my own experience; so often I will email her something and she will send me the corresponding Bible verse. I have sent her a link to this website but she hasn’t replied. I think much of astral practice is still hard for her to wrap her mind around, but she is willing to consider it and that is an amazing thing. Having kept these things from her the past ten years I still fear her rejection.

Part of me wonders whether I’ll have greater success with the Target Technique once I’m no longer anticipating writing it all down online because of that recurring fear of ‘failure’, as if there is such a thing. Perhaps this is due to a false belief that I’ll never be successful in leaving my body. I’ve read in several books that the older one gets the harder it is to attain an out of body experience. However, I would not have found this Path were I not ready for it. I would not have done so much purifying of my own soul these past years were I not headed for something even more amazing. Each year is more wonderful and magical than the last, it is inconceivable that I will simply never attain my goals.

I came here because I feel it necessary to explore the process and the fears that surface with you, that those who have the same experience may know that we all struggle to remove our focus from ourselves enough to succeed in a physical out of body experience. Perhaps tonight I will repeat positive affirmations to myself that I will succeed and that I can conquer my fear.

*

Today I was listening to an interview with William Buhlman in which he stated that it’s harder to get out of your body at bedtime because our brains have been hardwired to associate the act of laying down at night with sleep. He explains that he has a comfortable sofa that he goes to when he wakes up during the night. He lays on the sofa and does target practice and, as he’s drifting off to sleep, says “Now I will leave my body.” He said that this is one of the best times to get out of the body.

Tonight I plan to meditate myself to sleep. When I wake up in the middle of the night I will go to the living room and work with this new directive. Because I’m working to prove that anyone with any schedule can do this practice it’s a bit disheartening to hear, as not all people are prepared to sacrifice sleep or comfort to take on this task. I just happen to wake up a lot at night and have a fairly quiet living room to go to. I guess it’s all about what level you are working on and if you are ready to make the effort. Some of us simply aren’t to that point yet. I’m only just beginning to be.

~*NIGHT EIGHT*~

I meditated myself to sleep around 10 pm. At 1:45 I woke from a dream and went downstairs to the couch. I pulled the footrest out and assumed a sitting position, which is a fourty~five degree angle when reclined. A cat came to lay beside me; Søren, my daughter’s kitten, who comes to visit his grandmother on the weekends.

Again I meditated, saying “I will leave my body now” in successive increments. My body became weightless and my mind quieted. Occasionally Søren would twitch in his sleep and it would pull me slightly back into consciousness, but I would return myself to silence and continue on.

I didn’t even realize that I had fallen asleep until I was jolted awake…so to speak. I found myself in the ‘vibrational stage’, those moments before an out of body experience begins in which your consciousness is separating from the physical dimension, preparing to distribute the bulk of itself into the astral body. I felt as if my body was made of stone, that paralysis that so often comes with this state. My mind was absolutely focused and quiet, almost stone itself. I could hear this sound, a humming, and the blue light was moving behind my eyes.

Astralogy

Though my body felt paralyzed an inner part of me felt like it was on a boat in the ocean, waving up and down. It was a very disconcerting feeling, and quite frankly I was a bit afraid. At the brink of leaving my body it occurred to me that I was literally leaving this dimension, and I felt alone and unsure. In my past experiences of leaving my body I was catapulted into the universe with no time to consider the actual process of it.

At this time I was kind of wordlessly talking myself down from the fear, because I know that there is no reason for it; once I cross over all I have to do is call the name of my master and he will come. With any thought the ‘boat’ would rock harder and waves would increase. It was both a soothing feeling and disturbing, being stone and yet waving. I kept centering my mind which wasn’t hard to do at this time, and had a feeling that the darkness behind my eyes and the blue lights were an actual place that I was waiting, like a dark room. It had depth and space.

At this time the kitten began to dream, twitching and kicking my arm, which would bring me slightly out of the intense focus I was experiencing. I continued to repeat to myself “I will leave my body now. I will leave my body now.” and was able to hold the feeling continually. I also continued to return to the deep silence of the still room behind my eyes, to intensify the sensations that I was experiencing, but the kitten kept twitching and its paws were scratching at my arm.

After that I woke up an hour or so later and went back to bed. I did not wake again.

This morning I awoke at seven and my Other asked me how I had fared. He was most excited at my progress, as was I. It gave me a feeling that projection is very close. Tonight I will not be able to sleep on the couch, as we will have visitors. I am hoping that I can perhaps recreate the position in bed. When I wake the first time I will prop my pillows up comfortably, that I can sit at that fourty~five degree angle. It’s worth a try. I’m so excited I don’t want to miss a night. I feel a physical projection very much in my reach.

~*NIGHTS NINE AND TEN*~

Company from out of town and the beginning school semester have left no time for practice. I’ve tried not to be frustrated about it, but having experienced the vibrational stage has caused me to be very excited to get back into the swing. I have focused on my object each night, but late nights and a head full of school preparation has caused me not to remember my dreams on waking.

Oort CloudDuring the days I have kept my mind on soul travel. As I walk through waves of college students I imagine that I am looking down at myself from above or flying over the tops of buildings. In geology class, as the solar system is described, I pass through interstellar space to the Oort Cloud, past the Kuiper Belt and into inteplanetary space, soaring past each planet towards home.

Tonight I will go to the couch upon waking. This practice is cause for great excitement. Sooner or later I will separate from my body. It’s only a matter of time.

~*NIGHT ELEVEN*~

One more night before I was slated to stop sharing my experience here…I will not stop. Last night I woke and went to the couch, excited and groggy, and concentrated on my object until I fell asleep.

WP_20150401_07_11_01_ProI have a temporary housemate, who is staying here between apartments, and he never wakes up at night. Until last night. Between his trips outside to smoke, and my cat, who kept meowling in a manner unlike him, I was unable to keep focus and eventually went to bed, waking at dawn without so much as the memory of a dream. I discovered that my housemate had imbibed too much Mountain Dew to sleep, and the cat was crying because the cat door had accidentally been locked.

No matter. At this point no one is reading this, does it matter how long it gets? I’m going to continue on until either I run out of words or I leave my body, whichever comes first. I’m not known for ever having run out of words, so suffice to say I will eventually come here with an exciting story to tell.

~*NIGHT TWELVE*~

The vibrational stage is a trip…literally. This is the second time I’ve reached it, and can already see that it’s going to take some getting used to before I can ever survive it calmly enough to pass the barrier and leave my body.

I went to bed early so that whatever sleep I missed could be made up later. I had already been sleeping an hour before I woke up and had everything prepared downstairs; a pillow for my back, a blanket, the couch reclined to a 45 degree angle. I stumbled down the stairs and got comfortable.

Though I have not been to the couch many times I already feel myself becoming comfortable with the process. As soon as I lay back I try to hold as much of the dreamy relaxation of sleep that I can. The change in rooms keeps my mind awake enough. I start relaxing every muscle, which is much quicker after having been asleep. When my body gets numb, or weightless (a mixture of the two, basically I can’t feel it anymore), I focus on my object. The last time I reached the vibrational stage (Night Eight) I was jolted awake by the vibrations and found myself in what seemed to be a spatial room behind my eyes.

But last night I aquired this ‘room’ almost immediately after having relaxed myself. In this room, I kind of ‘click in’ to focus, at least that’s what it feels like. It’s much easier to remain focused there, as if thoughts are outside the room, unable to enter.

Just after I had fallen asleep my cat came through the door with a trophy mouse in his mouth. When he saw me he started meowing, bringing me to a full waking state much to my chagrin. I pondered whether or not I’d have to deal with him every night, and whether or not I would ever be able to leave my body. Unsurity and disillusion come and go like the wind, you’ll find. I allowed the doubt to pass and got up and held him, thanked him for the mouse, threw its gnawed carcass outside and lay back down. He didn’t bother me again.

Again I returned to focus on my object, which I couldn’t hold concretely in my mind. This is a point that I want to make avidly clear to everyone: you don’t have to have good visualization skills to do this. At this point I believe it’s the attempting to do so, the consistent work of focusing away from your body, that leads you towards the vibrational state. Just do the best you can, replacing your object in the mind’s eye again and again as you are drawn in and out of thought and/or bodily sensation.

A note on bodily sensation: at a certain point in relaxation, your body will attempt to call you out of your relaxed state through itches and tickles. It may feel like a fly has landed on you, a bug has bitten you or a hair is caught in your clothing. Many people say to ignore these sensations, but I find this impossible to do. In my experience, I make sure that my hair is away from my face and that there are few irritants about, such as killing mosquitoes if I happen to be bitten by one. If something needs scratched, I’ll focus all of my thought on it, giving it attention with my mind. Most often I find that this causes it to stop, but if it doesn’t work I’ll scratch and then go back to relaxation. In my experience, this strange stage will pass after I have become more relaxed and centered, but it may be different for everyone.

As I focused on my object this time an odd thing happened. A shape appeared to me, an ankh unlike any I have ever seen drawn. It was made of silver, was thick and heavy, laying on its back with the head of it away from me. The teardrop shape most generally seen on this symbol was more like an elliptical shape, separate from the cross section beneath it but attached, as if the two were made apart and then melded together. the edges of it cut off sharply as if the back it was laying on was flat. It looked hand~fashioned and rough~hewn.

This was the position it was in:

AnkhThis was the shape of it, more elliptical:ankh-black-cloth-272x393

I put my focus on it instead of my object. The next thing I remember is standing with my hands on the top of the passenger side of a rust~eaten car, looking at this weird, dark blue sky with a grey puff of cloud that was almost rose~shaped, with many layers almost like petals. My first thought was that I was able to do anything I wanted (though I didn’t know it was a dream at the time) and so I used my ‘astral arms’ to pull myself out of my body, which felt very freeing. I started heading towards the cloud and called the name of my master, thinking “YAY!” because I had left my body, but the excitement caused me to sink back into my body. I continued to call my master’s name, feeling a sense of frustration.

Then I heard a sound and was back on the couch. It was deafening, and caused me to open my eyes quickly. At first it sounded like someone was standing in the living room in front of me holding a radio that was tuned in between channels. There were odd sounds which I at first took to be voices but were not. The entire noise flanged, waxing and waning. The experience was quite jolting and a little frightening considering that I thought someone was in the room doing this, but when I opened my eyes I didn’t see anyone.

It went on for several seconds before it stopped, which I took with a sigh of relief. It’s going to take some time to be able to remain calm during these processes. I’ll just have to get used to being jolted while somehow holding myself at center and breathing through it. One thing I can say is that I’m hooked. I can’t wait to do it again tonight.

~*NIGHT THIRTEEN*~

I can see why it took William Buhlman 24 days to leave his body. Last night I woke, went down to the couch, got comfortable and quickly fell fast asleep, waking at 5 am. We have to give the body what it needs sometimes. Tonight I will continue.

I was thinking today about the many reasons why the idea of moving into another dimension is less frightening to me now than my first meeting with the vibrational stage. All the years that my master has made me laugh, wiped my tears away and been patient with me despite my downfalls and setbacks, all the years he’s given me that knowing smile full of the complete acceptance of his love, and not asked a single thing of me…how could I not go to him? There’s been countless times during meditation that my mind has wandered, and his signature, gentle pulsing of light behind my eyes has pulled me back from thought or memory and returned me to silence. Knowing him, being loved by him has changed my life for the better in every way.

The ascended masters could easily have gone on and never returned to this plane. They have chosen a part of themselves to remain focused on us, appearing in those moments when we need them the most, watching over mankind for those who have awakened, that they may make our passing easier. I can’t wait to give my master an actual, ‘physical’ hug, to connect with him in a state more real than any fleeting, mental conference I have had with him in the past, a concrete lesson that lasts as long as I wish it to. I can’t wait, and though he would completely disagree with me, I feel I owe him this much.

cosmic-eye1

 ~*NIGHT FOURTEEN*~

Spinal problems and a severe migraine have kept me from target practice as well as morning classes, but it doesn’t deter me or frustrate me in the least. Take my word for it, once you tap into that vibrational stage, however disconcerting it is, you get hooked on the idea that there’s something more just waiting for you past the veil. Once I am adept at this process I can escape the pain and explore to my heart’s content. I know that an end to pain is just beyond the veil, and I’m no longer trying to prove this fact to myself because I know it is out there, waiting for me to come to It.

Another thought that I’ve had this past day is the benefit that being able to move through dimensions will be in my studies in quantum physics. I will have an insight that scientists who do not practice this process will not have. Perhaps my brain waves during an obe can be measured, or my explanations of the vibratory forces in other dimensions can lead to a greater understanding of the universe as energy first, with matter a secondary ‘thought creation’ of energy. The possibilities are endless. Thus, I go.

~*NIGHT FIFTEEN*~

Very eventful morning, so much going on. The first of two times I woke up it didn’t even occur to me to go downstairs, I simply went to the bathroom and back to bed. It wasn’t until 5 am, when light was barely creeping through the window, that I got comfortable on the couch and began my work.

The cats were in and out, mewing for me and then going away, but I was determined. I relaxed my body, but the light was making me think too much. I kept on finding myself in thought, kept returning to silence and the blue lights behind my eyes. I think I may have sat there for an hour wide awake and unable to hold focus on the rough, silver ankh, though I played with several versions of it that seemed easier to focus on. I now think that it doesn’t really matter what you focus on, or if it stays the same. As long as you are putting focus on something other than yourself you will see some progress. That’s not to say that using the same symbol every night wouldn’t be easier as you would become more familiar with focusing on it concretely. I always want to stress that you don’t have to be good at any of these things to see some progression, and sometimes small progressions lead to larger leaps.

Along those same lines, I’m noticing that the sleep I ‘lose’ by doing this practice is not really lost. It is almost 8 in the morning, and I don’t feel like I’m missing anything by being awake from 5 to 6. This is something I now remember making note of in a time of my life when I was working 90+ hours a week. I had exactly 7 hours to sleep each night, and sometimes couldn’t get to sleep right away. I noticed that as long as I was staying still and quiet, as if I were asleep, I could function the next day.

Furthermore, I’ve heard many times that the body rests completely when the soul is out to play. Once I become proficient at leaving my body and can do it more quickly, the less actual sleep I’ll lose.

I did find that I kept being uncomfortable. Still pretty sore from my muscle troubles yesterday. I would be numb and weightless and have to come completely back into my body in order to rearrange my pillows. I will say that if you are at a certain point and you need to resituate yourself, go ahead and do so. You return to the previous state much easier once you have been there before.  Starting over is much easier than attempting to ignore aches or pains.

While I sat there wide awake and could not seem to keep focused, it occurred to me that the stages of relaxation and focus are senselessness, thoughtlessness and finally formlessness. It seems to work quite well to concentrate on relaxing the body first. Once it is completely relaxed, and no more senses are tugging at me to pay attention to them, then I begin to silence my mind, which is easier to do when the body is relaxed. It is much easier to go to that ‘room’ behind the eyes in this way, and for me it seems this is the only way to get there. Once my body is relaxed and my mind has quieted, which takes usually about 10-30 minutes, then I feel myself ‘click in’ to focus, that previously~described state of being inside the darkened room where no thoughts can deter me.

On to the good stuff. I went to sleep and awakened several times from short dreams, until I thought perhaps nothing was going to happen. But I was determined to at least make it to the vibrational stage, so each time I would wake up I would return to focus and center. Occasionally I would affirm to myself in my mind “I will leave my body now”, even if I wasn’t at the point where this would cause me to do so, rather reminding myself what my purpose is. The cats kept coming in and out, and soon the birds started singing, so I got some headphones and put them on to drown out the noise.

Eventually I went to sleep and was standing on a street corner in the daytime. My twin sister was there, and it seemed like we were looking for someone. But I wasn’t interested in that, I only wanted to leave my body. I was looking for a place on the street to continue my practice. I found a corner of a white building and propped some pillows up there. I had my headphones with me, and as I put them in I heard my sister calling my name from across the street as a bus went by, but I ignored her. I put the headphones in.

As I did this I started hearing a lecture, though they weren’t attached to any device. First a man was speaking on the out of body experience, and I could understand him but when I tried to focus on the words it either wasn’t English or didn’t make any sense. As I relaxed my muscles and plumped the pillows up behind me (which I guess had just appeared out of nowhere), a woman started speaking on the same subject. I didn’t want to think about what she was saying, so I allowed myself to hear her voice as a sound, not as words. When she started singing a song I continued to focus and center while hearing the song as a whole, not attempting to take notes on whether or not it was pretty or whether or not the words made sense, just a background noise like all the rest.

I guess after that I must have fallen asleep in the dream, because I woke up and was riding the vibrational waves, like the previously~described boat on the ocean. They felt so good, so calming and somehow physically pleasant. What is odd to me now is that I was still sitting in the corner of the building and yet I was looking up at the ceiling of my living room. I reallized that I was looking though my physical eyes were closed, and realized how close I was to leaving my body. I made it a point to remain calm.

As the wave would take me up, I would use the opportunity to reach my astral arms up and out of my body, making sure to do it delicately so that my physical arms would not come up with it. I didn’t know for sure whether or not they would, or which set of arms I had control of at the time, but I realized that my physical body was not moving. Instead of the ceiling fan above me in the living room, there was no ceiling fan, but a hole with wires sticking out of it as if someone had removed the fan. As the wave would take me up I would reach for those wires.

Clear Pink Tupperwards

The first time I almost reached them. As I went down I saw above me this clear, pink plastic container, rectangle in shape, which had no lid. It was about twelve inches tall and six inches wide, floating up to the ceiling. This is the closest image I could find to what I am describing. I decided that when the wave came I would try and grab for it, but as the wave came it dissipated into molecules of pink, which became a pink mist that became a pink stain on the ceiling. I went up and grabbed for the wires instead, which I did grab hold of. I found that I didn’t float back down, I was hanging on to the wires weightlessly, so I started digging through the ceiling, which I was successful at doing yet I was making no mess. Suddenly the hole and wires weren’t there anymore, it was only the popcorn ceiling which was bubbled out towards me. This is all very abstract I realize, but it’s what was going on.

At that moment I heard a noise in the kitchen. My Other was awake and had come downstairs. I woke up instantly, helped him with what he was doing, told him about my progress and then he went back to bed. I considered using the available hour I had left to attempt practice again, but decided instead to write it all down while it is fresh.

As usual, I can’t wait for bedtime.

~*NIGHT SIXTEEN*~

Nothing much to report today, except perhaps how ‘not’ to do target practice. I went downstairs at almost 5 am which, despite previous, vibrational achievement, I’m not so sure is the best time to practice. It seems like I am in a more dreamlike state earlier in the night than I am in the morning, and I thought being more awake might help in having more control of my state. However, thoughts of the coming dawn, as well as anticipation of people waking in the house, stay in the back of my mind and keep me in some sort of nervous state. From now on I will go to the couch the first time I wake in the night.

I relaxed my body and stilled my thoughts and focused on my object and drifted off, but the vibrations never woke me up as they have before. I woke again without dreams an hour later, birds chirping and cats coming and going. I returned to practice, waking again at 7. I’ve noticed that more than an hour on the couch makes my back ache. No matter what position I got in I couldn’t get comfortable.

I was dogged in my refusal to give up, which is not always a good thing. I lay down on the couch and continued practice. However, laying down causes my mind to wander all sorts of places. It always has. It seems that when I am laying down I don’t have those in~between moments of clarity which remind me not to get lost in my thoughts. They take me here and there and soon thirty minutes has gone by and thoughts are king. This is why, in my page entitled “Dreamwork On The Go”, I suggest attempting meditation, which for most only succeeds in sleep, though dreams are often more vivid and memorable.

I slept for awhile on the couch quite uncomfortable, becoming convinced that I am familiar enough with target practice to do it in the comfort of my own bed. I only succeeded in tossing and turning to the point that my Other kept stirring, so I got up and began my day.

Due to coming days off from work and school I will feel less pressed for time. I’m expecting many exciting advancements in the next days to come.

~*NIGHT SEVENTEEN*~

So odd. I did everything that caused positive results before, slid in and out of a gentle version of the vibrational stage but had no palpable results. I wasn’t particularly exhausted or in need of sleep. The cats weren’t coming in and out as much and didn’t try to get my attention at all. I was completely relaxed and undisturbed and didn’t have to be up in the morning at any certain time.

I went to the couch while it was still dark outside, eventually waking at dawn. I didn’t push the issue, I just went to bed and back to sleep. This time I had an interesting, vivid dream but nothing about leaving my body as I have previously encountered. It’s curious, I was so sure something was going to happen last night.

~*NIGHTS EIGHTEEN AND NINETEEN*~

I vaguely remember waking up and going downstairs. My Other woke me at 5 am to return to bed. The way I had been laying caused physical repercussions. I’m concerned that I’m beginning to associate the couch with sleeping. Going to have to rethink my strategies.

Last night I discussed this with the Other, who suggested I find a way to practice in bed. The condition of my spine causes me to require much caution when sitting or sleeping, as being in the wrong position too long can interfere with my life for days at a time. As determined as I am to leave my body, I cannot miss school and work to do so. However, I earnestly believe that there is no such thing as the ‘impossibility’ of reaching any goal. I decided to find a way to meet all requirements of comfort in a way that leads to progress.

I wondered whether or not I could be successful in the comfort of my bedroom. At bedtime I gathered the pillows up behind me in a comfortable, half-sitting position. I found it quite easy to be comfortable, relax and meditate in this position. The weightless feeling of my body came on fairly quickly. I found the silent, black room behind my eyes in no time. I noticed that I was more mentally centered in bed, less apt to focus on cats coming and going and sounds in the large space of my living room. The closeness of the walls and knowing my Other was beside me, caused a great deal of calm that I have not found in the living room. Additionally, it was quite easy to focus on my object, which kept appearing behind my vision in different forms. The ankh turned to knotwork, flipped itself on its side, lost its cross and became an intricate infinity symbol. I focused on that for awhile.

The only setback was my precious Other, who was having a hard time staying asleep. He would turn every five minutes or so, and the fan was causing the soft hairs on his arm to move, which would make him itch. He’s been sick recently, so he kept clearing his throat and tossing around.

I’ve been thinking about surrender a lot lately as a way to let go and allow the natural flow. I decided to surrender to the silence. After all, the sensations of the body divert us away from focus, they are no more distracting than movement and sound. Each time the Other would move or make a sound I would continue on, putting no thought to anything but my symbol.

After about an hour I was noticing this heaviness behind my eyes, almost as if the dark room was weighing down upon my face. It’s a sensation that I’ve felt before but forgotten to mention. My eyes kept focusing and refocusing, as if the dimensions of the room were expanding and contracting. The blue light began to swirl and break into circles. My body was stone, and I started feeling that light, wavy feeling of the vibrational stage approaching.

Our housemate got up and went to the bathroom and started to take a shower, pulling me from my deep state. He rarely does this so late at night. I decided then that I would simply meditate, and was able to go very deep into silence. My back remained relaxed and I was very comfortable, and somehow the feeling of being alone seemed less intense.

I think tonight I am going to do this again. There’s no reason why all the ingredients can’t be just right for me to succeed.

~*NIGHTS TWENTY – TWENTY TWO*~

Hehe…for all my assurances, I don’t think it is possible to do this technique in the comfort of my own bed. All I have accomplished is some really intense dreams and lots of good sleep. In fact, I’ve never slept this good in my life.

An ovarian cyst the size of my fist rests on my bladder at night, causing me to have to use the bathroom many times. I must say, this practice has somehow kept that from happening. The past four nights I’ve slept undisturbed, which is wonderful. It reminds me how much easier it is to live in the positive state of mind that is natural to us all, as well as being able to focus better during the day’s activities.

However, good sleep was not my intent here. I’m trying to leave my body.

Yesterday I did homework on the couch, searching for positions and arrangements which would allow me to be most comfortable. I succeeded, so before bed I got everything set up just right so that I could go downstairs when I woke up. The only problem was that I didn’t wake up. What are my options now? I could set an alarm for myself, but that would disturb my Other. I am considering target practice as a prelude to sleep. Perhaps when my Other goes to bed I can stay on the couch, going to bed whenever I am ready afterwards.

All I know is that there is no turning back. I’m not going to give up. I’ve wanted to do this my entire life, and have lamented not working towards my goals. It’s just time, and I don’t care how long it takes me, I will succeed.

~*NIGHT TWENTY THREE*~

I found a way to wake myself up at night. Before I went to sleep I told myself that when I wake up I had homework to do. At 3:42 am it was the first thought in my mind when I woke. I went downstairs and got comfortable on the couch, which was a matter of nothing more than finding the right pillow to put behind my back.

I found it diffficult to focus on my object there, as opposed to the bed. In bed I’ve become quite proficient at conjuring my object by saying to myself “infiniti”, which causes an infinity symbol to appear. Sometimes it is white on the black background, sometimes it is black and the background is lighter, and sometimes the loops are coloured in with white. Sometimes the middle pushes itself apart, creating a knotwork-style symbol.

WP_20150916_07_57_48_Pro What I have discovered the past couple of nights is that I have been…scientififying (my own word) the process instead of simply focusing on my object. The ‘thoughtlessness, senselessness, formlessness’ theory, though accurate in describing the steps towards leaving the body, is not a process that should be concentrated on part at a time. It is an organic effect of focusing on the object.

As difficult as the image of it was to hold behind my eyes I returned to it any time thoughts pulled me away, until the blue light began swirling and parting itself and thoughts became occasional waves that shuddered through me. Eventually a muted sound (I had headphones in to dampen any noise) would pull me from a half-sleep, half-meditation state, when I would return to focus on the infinity symbol.

Suddenly I came to in a standing position, looking out the window. When this happens, as in the case of all the ‘dreams’ I’ve had during this practice, I’m always afraid to look back at my body because I would rather pretend to be out of it…just in case I am not. When I ‘come to’ in this state it’s always this overwhelming feeling of “I’ve done it!”, so much so that I’m not sure whether I am dreaming or have actually left my body, but feeling the latter to be true.

What was odd about looking out the window was that there was no backyard there, it was the ocean, and the waves were lapping backwards; not in the sense that they were leaving the shore, but that they were moving from left to right diagonally instead of coming straight at me. This caused me to know that I was no longer in my body. I watched in extreme fascination, staring out at the ocean and the grey daylight that was emanating there, and realized that this must be an alternate dimension. It was cause for great excitement though I kept calm, fearing excitement would pull me from this state.

Dimensional Ocean

What makes me think it might be a dream is that I decided to go upstairs and tell my Other what had happened, and suddenly I was standing before him telling him about it. The problem arose that he was not in the least bit interested; he merely smiled at me and went about getting ready for work. Instantly I thought to myself “This must be a multi~dimensional him that is not the Him I know, or else he would be excited.” So I began again, moving into another dimension and telling that Other what I had done. Again, he only seemed mildly enthusiastic, not excited at all, which caused me to think I had, once more, found myself in the wrong dimension.

Soon I heard the ‘real’ Other waking to get ready for work, so I got up and went into the bedroom and fell asleep. I’m glad to say I was not sore in the least.  I feel that I am back on track now, and can’t wait to continue! I wish I knew what was happening with these ‘dream travel’ experiences. Perhaps I should find a way to ask William Buhlman about it.

~*NIGHT TWENTY FOUR*~

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….

Ten thousand words and growing. I’m torn between continuing to post daily and only posting when I have some progress to report. At this point I am waking up enough to go downstairs to the couch, but I’m going to sleep before I ever get to the vibrational stage. When something does happen it’s a dream of leaving my body but not the actual thing. It’s a delicate art, staying awake long enough to fall asleep at the perfect moment. What a conundrum.

Out-of-Body Exploration Methods

I’ve gone to Buhlman’s website for answers. He’s talking about people who are good at visualization versus people who aren’t. He says affirmation techniques are useful for people who can’t visualize. As I’ve mentioned before. my master has worked with me on imagination and visualization techniques. I can visualize any of the planes I have been to with him and explore worlds with nothing more than my mind, but when I sit down at night and attempt to visualize a simple infinity symbol I find it extremely difficult to hold on to.

Further, I am combining affirmation and visualization, by thinking to myself “I will leave my body now” as I drift off. … Come to think of it, I didn’t do that last night. I need to make note of when I do and do not affirm this to myself, perhaps that’s what causes the vibrational state to come on.

Another thing he says on his website is that it’s easiest to imagine a loved one far from you. This is something I’ve not thought of before. Perhaps, instead of attempting to focus on an infinity symbol behind my eyes, which is still within the sphere of bodily reference, I should focus on my Other upstairs in bed. Buhlman says to work towards becoming “completely absorbed in being with this person”, making the vision as real as possible with senses involved. This might cause enough distance between me and myself, but considering the hard time I’m having with a simple infinity symbol I’m not sure I can visualize a whole person. Think I’ll stick to what has shown results in the past.

I’ll continue to post daily at least for now. I know I can do this, I was meant to. In fact, we all were.

~*NIGHTS TWENTY FIVE AND SIX*~

My twenty~fifth night everything was in order to have a successful practice session. Instead of waiting until I was already asleep I went to bed on the couch, hoping to get deep in before drowsiness began to set in. I still don’t understand why visualization of my object is so much more difficult on the couch than it is in my bed, but I did my best, keeping in mind that my most successful nights were no more successful at visualization than others.

I came to several times, realizing I had gone to sleep, and began again, which is easy considering the mind is already lax as the body. I woke up at early dawn and went back down to try again. Still nothing but sleep.

Admittedly, I was very frustrated with the lack of advancement yesterday. Cats weren’t coming and going, and neither were people. I was comfortable and all was well with the world. I began to feel like, perhaps, I still have fear of leaving my body that is preventing me somehow from advancing to the vibrational stage. I had a hard time with negative thoughts, because I can’t understand why, under the exact same circumstances as previous successful nights, I cannot produce the same results. There is still that deep fear inside me that I will be one of those who will not ever leave my body, even as I know this to be an impossibility.

I was talking to my Other about it last night, my frustrations as well as my ponderances on whether or not the inability to visualize is preventing me from reaching my goals. I never quite get far enough ‘away’ from my body to the point that William Buhlman describes, when you no longer associate with your physical form, in the prime state of mind to unattach from it.

My Other cannot visualize well at all. He never has been able to. As I have opened Doors and explored worlds and taken succor from my master he has looked on longingly, which is nothing if not ironic, because he is so pure he might as well be a master himself.

Third Eye Image

He explained that when he visualizes, it’s not an image per se, but a formal concept in his mind rather than behind his eyes. This caused me to try to visualize in the way he described himself to do. Visualization of the mind is higher, so to speak, than behind the eyes. The image is ‘seen’ in the “third eye” region, and though I knew this from practice with the blank screen technique, I’d never really put the thought to use such as I did last night.

It’s much easier to hold on to the image in some concrete way there, in the forehead region, than it is to attempt to form an image behind the eyes. Unfortuanately the housemate, who has been gone for a week, walked through the door when I was in the deepest meditative state, which frightened me terribly. After that my mind wouldn’t come out of the thought phase, bounding around from one thought to the next. I went up to bed and didn’t come back down til morning.

However, I do feel that focus on the image in the mind will be more successful than behind the eyes. It is this that I will practice tonight.

~*NIGHT TWENTY SEVEN*~

Focus in the mind does work quite well. It has occured to me that in the notes of Night Twenty Four I solved my own problem without even realizing it. The way I focus best is when I’m using the mental technique to Go places such as my 64 Doors, which is the first thought about where to go upon leaving my body and meeting with my master. Why wait until I meet with him to go there, when I can go any time I want? I’ve read in many books, especially my “bible” Eckankar: The Key To Secret Worlds by Paul Twitchell, that to ‘imagine the journey fulfilled’ is the most potent way to leave the body. I’ve always struggled with the idea of that, but after last night I understand.

Recreation of a place in the mind causes the soul to appear there when moved out of the physical realm. Remember, in the ‘soul dimension’, thought is how one travels, not movement of the body. That is why it’s so important to learn how to silence the mind, to traverse the ‘thought responsive’ worlds, as Buhlman puts it, before we leave the body, or else we will find ourselves transported with every thought we think, which could be troublesome.

Obviously, not everyone has such a place to imagine. But you do have a favourite spot; the tree you like to sit under at the park, the bedroom you stay in when you visit your parents, etc. It can be anywhere.

Instead of struggling with focus on the infinity symbol last night I spent time at the Doors, peering through them into those rooms that can be seen from outside. Door One is an empty clay room, but for a golden medallion in the center of the concave floor. Door Three is next to Door One (they aren’t in common order) is a recessed cave with a large pillar in the middle of the room and a sort of small arena at the far end. I looked inside, observing the dimensions of the room. I attuned my senses to the earthy scent of it, heard the willows moving with the wind outside. I watched the rice patties on the white beach swaying in the wind and followed the waterline of the rainwater lake around its circumference, ‘fleshing’ the place out in my minds eye. Having been here some hundreds of times it’s easy to visualize. In fact, I found it more vivid last night than many times I’ve been there.

I was just getting to the vibrational stage of feeling as if I were on a boat on the ocean when the housemate began coming in and out to smoke. After awhile I realized he wasn’t going to sleep and I went to bed, but I’m very much excited that I got that far, after nights of no progress at all.

Further, I’ve returned to the previous ‘scientific method’ that I was using before: senselessness, thoughtlessness and formlessness spoken of in night fifteen’s notes. It occured to me that once I abandoned these ideas, thinking that I was complicating things too much, I had no more success getting to the vibrational stage. Last night I made it a point to focus on relaxing my body first, my thoughts silenced after, holding focus on the Doors while I did this. I will do this again tonight, and hopefully have less to distract me.

~*NIGHTS TWENTY SEVEN AND EIGHT*~

I think it’s time I make peace with my fears.

I hear the Next calling me. Whether or not I ever make it there in this lifetime, it is always calling me. It is calling us all. I watch young adults stream into the Student Center at my school wondering…who amongst them knows? Who is searching like me? You can’t tell us by the way we dress, the way we speak, the music we listen to, the people we hang out with.

What would be the downfall of me never physically leaving my body? No such conclusion is important. I progress at a rate that is best for me, despite what I think I want or need. I cannot push myself to go further than I am able, nor should I.

Tasik Kenyir 2

These past two nights I have explored my 64 Doors more in depth than I ever have. The peace of that place settles over me even in physical life. I’ve discovered many surprising details that I’ve never noticed before, such as stairways I’d never seen before, doors I’d never known were open and details about my surroundings I’d never taken the time to pay attention to. Perhaps I cannot be there as physically as if I were out of body, but the mental technique provides me with a real enough experience. I see the wind blowing in the trees. The sun shines on the deep green of the rainwater lake in stripes that penetrate beyond the surface. The air is fresh, devoid of the pollution I breathe even now. It smells spiced, somehow primal. All is silent but for the movements and stirrings of nature.

Tasik Kenyir, Malaysia

If all I ever had was the Doors, and the places my master took me with this mental technique, I would continue to grow more and more joyous each day, just as I have these many years. I would continue to perfect my soul by giving kindness to myself and others. Perhaps I would not be able to overcome the deeply~rooted neuroses of the addictive personality and the ongoing conflict of creating pain in my body, but I would continue to be joyous despite these.

I’m losing nothing.

If my eagerness to physically leave my body, or a fear that I cannot, or a worry that I am not doing something right are keeping me from Leaving, I lay them aside here and now. I’ve come to realize that what I’ve begun here cannot be stopped. This is no longer a 30 day practice but a lifelong one, although I will only post on this page for two more days for pity’s sake of those who might read it.

kenyir4

Not everyone has a 64 Doors to go to, and I created this post to show the world that you don’t need to have any special abilities or previous knowledge to leave your body. I say to you here and now that taking on this challenge will improve your life, whether or not you are successful. I hope that I have shown that progress can be made, and that undertaking this practice doesn’t interfere with daily life at all. I have never once felt as if I’ve lost sleep, or not been able to keep up on my homework.

If you decide that it is time for you to undertake such a practice then you will. If you are not yet ready no amount of wishing you were will get you there. I think the secret is to be YOU, just as you are now, and be okay with the you that you are now. Every new plateau of awakening you reach, you invariably look back and realize that you couldn’t have gotten there any sooner than you did.

The next two nights I will go to the couch and do what I do, but not with the desperation of the past few nights but with peace. I have succeeded in meditating every night for at least an hour, which is something I never ‘had time’ for. I have fleshed out the Doors more in three or four nights than in the previous ten years of visiting them, and now am excited to go there each night and get to know the lake better.

Kenyir 3

 And when I do accomplish leaving my physical body I will begin a new post detailing the information I have made note of. Here goes nothing.

~*NIGHT TWENTY NINE*~

I began at Door One, standing in front of it and peering in. I turned and looked back at the beach, not sure where to go next. It has occured to me that the path through the small rice patties is one the Senoi tribe takes to get water and perhaps fish from the rainwater lake. Their village is further back, in a forest whose trees are taller than those surrounding the lake.

bajaulautlonghouse

I’ve never been to their village, never felt the need to go. I think part of me doesn’t want to intrude. Another part of me is still afraid of going anywhere new. Fear of trusting our imagination is so ingrained within us. All these years it’s never quiet left me, even with all the proof I’ve had that what I was experiencing was real. Malaysia and Borneo are, in fact, home to rainwater lakes. They do have rice patties, which the orang asli, or Senoi Indians, depend on for survival. The man who first greeted me on the lake looks like the Senoi tribe.

These facts took much time to compile. It wasn’t until I saw a picture of the ‘keeper’ of the lake in a book I’d been reading: Richard Moss’s “Creative Dreaming”, which spoke of the Senoi tribes and his time among them, that I knew what to look for.

I decided not to go to the village, to re~visit other Doors instead, but the intent was already out there. As soon as I drifted off to sleep I came to at the edge of a clearing. I was standing in front of a brown longhouse, realizing that I was in the village. This was shocking to me because I had just decided not to go to the village. What was there to do but enter?

I passed a thick corner of rainforest underbrush and came into the clearing fully. Three longhouses stood without stilts, shorter and a darker brown than the usual greywood shacks I’ve seen in images online. It seemed there was no one there and I wondered if it hadn’t been abandoned.A man stuck his head around the side of a house and smiled at me. He had huge, spacey teeth that made his grin precious. He beckoned me to come to him. Once I passed the first longhouse I saw that there were, in fact, many people there. Several older women, one near a fire, another couple working with thatch. When they saw me they put their work aside and stood, seeming really happy to see me, which was humbling. Much to my surprise they went and gathered instruments and played a welcoming song for me. It was unlike any song I’d ever heard…parts of it sounded like Native American singing, some of it sounded Asian. One instrument looked like some sort of long ocarina, but while the woman played it she also slapped it as if it were a drum. It was such a sweet song, so heartfelt. The people were all so joyous and at ease, though I felt a bit uncomforable being the focus of so much attention.

When it was done they all smiled and nodded and went back to what they were doing. I looked at the man with big teeth, who had a knowing look on his face. I nodded at him and he nodded back, gesturing to the path leading back to the lake. Here it is odd, because I got up to leave, but it’s as if I began to dream before I ever left the village.

I woke up on a makeshift ladder, crawling down it with other Senoi into a cave. I was confused at how I came to be there, so I stopped crawling down and went back up. Later, there was a woman with really short, white hair who I had come to adore. I remember looking at her as she boiled some roots on the fire and thinking how much I liked her. It seems I grew close to her quickly, in the span of the day I spent with the tribe. You’ll find this happens often in experiences like this. Some things are experienced without your actual ‘being’ there. Some of it is teachings you are not yet ready for, but once you are the full memory will come back to you.

Of course, I was very excited to tell my Other about this experience. Since the solving of the Eighth Door nothing new has happened there. I never expected to meet the tribe, not sure why it’s never occured to me before.

~*NIGHT THIRTY*~

It’s been a long journey. Night thirty I focused on the infinity symbol, had some really interesting dreams and woke up the next morning refreshed. Since I had success reaching the vibrational stage while focusing on the symbol, I think I will begin a second thirty~day session focusing on nothing but it and see where it takes me. Sometime in the next three weeks or so I will be taking my third shamanic journey, perhaps that will break me out of whatever is holding me back from leaving my body. Whether or not anyone ever reads this I’m glad I did it. Feeling responsible for putting it in writing each day caused me to be able to create a much~needed habit, if nothing else I have this to be thankful for.

Gaining a Soul~full State of Mind

astral states

When considering how to begin preparing for an out of body experience it’s often easy to be overwhelmed. Most of us come home from work to do housework, having little time to relax before bed. It’s typical to fall asleep when attempting any sort of practice in the few minutes that we have to do so. We may live with others whose schedules are different from our own or have little time alone, making any practice difficult to achieve.

However, this is a crucial time in the neophyte’s life, when the realization of our innate abilities to tap into the mystical can often catapult us away from associating ourselves with the woes of the world. If you can learn to explore you provide yourself with positive thoughts and memories to draw from during days in which the weight of physicality might otherwise press down on you. It can begin the process of movement away from bad habits, addictions, obsessions and negative states that, otherwise, you would circle helplessly through with no escape. Realizing that magick is real and that it can be yours lifts you from hot soil into the cool realms of infinite possibility.

When I first began considering these things I was reading an old book called “Eckankar: Keys To Secret Worlds” by Paul Twitchell, my version of the Bible. There are many suggestions presented, such as the 360 Degrees Technique in which one imagines oneself as a spot on the ceiling. You look down upon yourself night after night, eventually cultivating a 360 degree viewpoint through the roof and walls. Though I practiced the many techniques described in the book, I could never be sure that what I was experiencing was real or if I was just making it up. I wanted to do it right, to know it was real, so I became hesitant to work in the realms of imagination.

But every practice that is suggested for gaining this state of mind has to do with imagination, one of the main ingredients when passing on to the Next of Things. Don’t be fooled into thinking that imagination is not important, or not real. It is said that everything created by the imagination of man exists on some plane. If your plan of advancement is to return to this plane or another like it, a physcial plane, then you’ll be born into another body and grow up just as you have before. However, those searching for ascension will need to develop tools that are used in the non-physical worlds, such as focus and imagination.

Out

I’ve only physically left my body a couple of times with help, but I’ll discuss here why leaving your body with the Tibetan mental technique is every bit as trustworthy as physical projection. True, literal projection is a physical experience, when interactions with ascended masters are longer lasting and more interactive, but it’s helpful to get comfortable with these ideas alone first before one even gets to the point of actual projection. This is the path my master set me upon, a path I took many years before ever actually projecting. I can’t help but wonder whether my mental technique experiences allowed me to go as far out of body as I did when it finally happened.

I began with a song. Music can divert us from what is going on around us if we have little time alone, or if we live in a house with others whose noises would prevent us from focusing. Personally, every experience worth noting has been to music, though it will not always be so.

I would play the song on repeat and imagine myself leaving my body. Using what knowledge I had of my surroundings I began to explore; my back yard at that time, the highway behind it, the cow pasture to the other side of it and the huge, white water tower beyond. I would swirl up and around the water tower, fly alongside the cars I could hear passing by on the highway. I would look in to car windows, imagine who I would see there. It’s important to allow yourself to create, it doesn’t have to be what is real, it can be any explicit design. The more detail you add the more real you make it, and the more practice your imagination gets. Trust in oneself is crucial to soul travel, that means trusting your imagination as much as your own eyes.

Eventually I expanded my flight pattern. Driving is an excellent time to work on any technique. While driving, I would begin to leave myself places that I passed that were beautiful to me. I would imagine myself standing there watching myself drive by. You can do this simultaneously while driving, don’t worry that you’ll run off the road. It’s the same process as the thoughts and memories you return to while driving on the average day.

At first I would watch myself drive away, and then I began to perfect the Leave Yourself Behind technique . I would imagine smelling the flowers in the field. I would try to imagine fish swimming beneath the surface of a pond and how the light reflected off of the surface. I would try to make the place as real to me as I could.

Soon I found myself considering going further. I have always wanted to visit Norway, a country I am most fascinated with. I looked at a general map of the world and saw that I would need to cross the U.S. to New York, which would be the most direct route nor-noreast across the ocean to Norway. Of course, it would be difficult to imagine every single stop along the way, so I generalized my vision of following random interstates, creating interesting and beautiful night landscapes to fly over, eventually coming to the ocean.

With the song playing I flew myself to Norway, dipping and diving into the water, playing with its rising and falling parts to the beat. The moone would watch me dance as I skimmed across the surface, delving into the waves, swimming with behemoth whales and sharks. When I finally came to land I imagined it was Norway, heading towards the city that I wanted to visit, Notodden, having previous knowledge of its general location. I imagined myself flying to the house of the composers of the very song I was listening to, seeing the female singer staring out the window at me.

mooneatnight

I did this night after night, becoming more proficient by looking up images of Notodden that I could better create the landscape around me. I began to believe that what I was experiencing was real until it occured to me that the sun would be rising over the waters to Norway, a seven hour time difference from the U.S. This caused me to reject my practice, because I had only ever seen the moone over the ocean. I decided that I was making it all up and quit flying for awhile. It was only lack of faith in myself, as I would soon come to find.

But the wonder of it, sheer exploration in an age when I was destitute and desperate, called to me. Soon I was flying again, all to that same song which I had become familiar with, choreographing my dance over the ocean until I knew it by heart. But that began to feel less like free motion and more a specific, forced habit, so eventually I stopped listening to the song and went without it.

It was this first, music-less journey that I passed over an intensely green island just before England, whose emerald depths were exquisite in the morning sun. At this time I had no concrete knowledge of the world or the placement of countries. Every new visit to Norway I would pass it. Eventually I got a more detailed map and looked it up. Ireland. The realization that I was experiencing something altogether real was cause for celebration, but at that time I had no one to tell. It truly is a lonely road to liberation.

One such journey I came to a city that looked very much like what I would imagine Venice, Italy to be. The houses and offices were built directly on the water. This, too, disheartened me because I thought I was incorrect in my creation. Again I lost faith in myself, even after the discovery of Ireland. But I had strayed north, ending up in Ålesund, Norway, which looks very much like Venice to the untrained eye. It was then that I fully came to trust my imagination.

Could I have possibly seen Ireland on some previous map and just not realized it? Could I have watched a movie that was filmed in Ålesund years before I came to love the country, thus having some stored memory of what it looks like? Quite possibly, but none of that matters. Since then my master has taken me to other planes. I have created worlds with my mind, never having left my body. Whether any of it is real doesn’t matter, it has changed my life in the most amazing and exquisite ways, and has caused me to experience a joy that I didn’t believe could be possible as a human on Earth.

I will put these techniques and others on a page entitled “Soulwork”, for easy access.

Ålesund, Norway

Ålesund, Norway

Venice, Italy

Venice, Italy

Foreversong

astral-tunnel

I’ve seen what’s Next. For each it is a different experience; a single song that, when played, speaks in a unique language tailor-made for the listener, each instrument carefully chosen to create a distinct idea of the perfect melody. The design of the music is a movement in ebb and flow, waving to the request of our greatest subconscious desires, each note placed precisely where it can be of most benefit. Therefore, it cannot be said that I have seen the Next, rather, I have seen MY Next.

No two are alike yet there is a shared beat, the heart that keeps all life alive. This beat is woven within every song, a common thread that can be proven as, perhaps, the only ultimate truth: love. Lack of love causes living things to die physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Energy is the single acting force of eternity, and the current that energy is carried on is love. The source of all energy emanates a wave of love that flows out from it and returns to it from us. Every experience we have, every action we take, every choice we make is in search of love. There is no judgment, no repentance, no hell in my Foreversong, for all is of the source and one with it, and nothing that is of it is not of love.

In 2005 I was 31 years old, depressive and lost in the dark. That year I spent three days deathly ill with stomach flu completely unconscious in bed. The fourth day I woke and was better, but before I spoke one word to anyone I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down a dream. In the dream I went into the rainforests of a beautiful country, sliding down a water slide with many others to a white beach, but when I got to the beach I was alone. A man met me there, welcoming me with a nod. He was dark and native with shells around his neck. I walked past rice patties and took a path that ended at a green rainwater lake surrounded by weeping willows.

In the middle and to the right of the lake there stood four huts on stilts and, to the right of them, a grey American-style house. In the dream I swam out to the house and shimmied up one of the poles onto the bamboo dock. A white man came out to greet me. When I questioned him about the small huts on stilts he told me I was not ready to go to them. From where I stood I could see that they were made of jade; four smooth jade doorways leading into darkness on each side. Four doors each side, sixteen doors each hut, sixty-four doors in all. I knew that it was a place I should return to.

A week later my sister brought me a box of books. One of them was entitled “Eckankar: The Key To Secret Worlds” by Paul Twitchell. Normally I would have thrown anything that mentioned God in the trash, but its explanation of man as responsible for his own suffering released me of my need to bear the pain of the world. I still cringed when the word God appeared, but Sugmad, the ancient Chinese word for god, was so much a more detached, less judgmental god than the one I had rejected, so I read on. Eckankar is the ancient Tibetan belief that soul travel is the direct way to the original Source; the Light And Sound That Is All Life. To leave one’s physical body and bask in the Light and Sound is to know the purest love, that which Sugmad is and nothing more. Eckankar means “co-worker of God”, and the book spoke of ancient masters who had crossed over and were waiting to assist us to the higher planes.

One day in November, in a depressive and desperate state I did the meditative ritual prescribed by the book and sure enough–and much to my surprise–I met my first ancient master. His name is DapRen. This year marks my tenth year as acolyte under his tutelage. At first meeting I decided that I had gone insane as my mother before me. Because she believed the voice inside herself which often proved to be malevolent, I could not trust myself enough to believe that he was real, yet I returned to him again and again because of the pure, fatherly love that he shared with me.

At first he took me to the moon. I would sit on the moon and cry because the weight of my life on Earth was a small dot in the distance and being removed from it caused me to abhor the thought of returning. He would smile and hug me often, and listen silently. His patience is infinite. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was a word or a sentence, the loving truth of the matter. On the moon I learned that I had a place to go away from the pain of man, a place where I could get some distance between me and suffering and view it from an elevated point. I began to find lessons everywhere, in everything, and often small incidents would further the lessons he taught me. Soon I realized that his was the professor’s lectured accompaniment to the next chapter of the book of life. He would teach me something and then life would show me what he meant, and it was to me to solve the puzzle. It was hard to stay depressed when I was so busy with mysterious and amazing puzzles.

Slowly his complete acceptance and unwavering love caused me to accept and love myself. The more I loved myself the more my need for depression and drugs withdrew. Even unhealthy foods began to have adverse effects on my body. Everything I am is now in a constant state of purification, and purification is the reason for the challenge of living as a physical being on Earth.

One day I was shocked when DapRen took me to the huts on stilts in the middle of the rainwater lake, what I now refer to as the 64 Doors. He told me to work on opening them one by one. When I asked why he said “Because you can.” The Doors have a multi-purpose, not only to provide help when I need it but also to teach me how to exist in the higher planes. Each Door is a puzzle whose homework is life. Each Door presents me with a problem. The problem is then presented in my waking life, just as the lessons given by the master. As I solve the puzzle in physical form I solve it also at the Doors. I have currently opened eight and have yet to begin the ninth. Doors lead to physical and mental healing, as well as knowledge and growth. The Third Door brought me to the physical equivalent of myself on the Earthly plane. Humans call us ‘twin flames’, two halves of the same soul, a union of complete acceptance, cooperation and spiritual awakening. To know the perfect love in this life is rare, it is the answer to all questions and an end of yearning.

Yet, in all this that I have told, not one experience was that of actual soul travel. Because of my lackadaisical attitude towards meditation, any exploration I have ever done has been with the Tibetan ‘mental technique’, which is the projection of one facet of self without an actual, physical projection. I have left my body twice, both times with the help of a specific combination of sativa and sacred psilocybin, and it was through the second of these two experiences that I came face to face with Sugmad and the bigger picture.

  1. I took the journey alone and with a Rumi poem put to music which caused me to pulse with the beat, yet it was not I who pulsated but the ectoplasmic webbing that I had become. My body no longer existed. I was everything all at once. I crawled my tiny conscience through the webbing to different people and animals in my neighborhood, tasting their emotions and understanding the Oneness of all things. Suddenly the music became waves of colour, more colours than I knew existed, and they floated the webbing up into the sky, each wave a pure ecstasy to every pore, and I became one with this plateau of sunset clouds that stretched on forever. As the music swelled I tasted pure love like a nectar that banished all un~truth within me. I reached out with my tiny little me~ness and cried “Thank You”, all I could think to say to express the incredible joy and beauty I had been shown. I had a vision of each human on Earth searching for that love, suffering many mortal lives gladly if it meant tasting that love once more.

Last year I took a second journey out of body with the help of sativa and a psilocybin named Golden Teachers. My soul hurtled out of my body and through the cosmos, stopping at what felt like a barrier that kept me from moving forward. Everything I knew myself to be was spoken to me in my own voice. “’I’ am a woman, a mother, a metalhead. ‘I’ am this, ‘I’ am that.” The more I heard myself speak out all that I thought I was, the more I realized that it was all illusory. I saw every single thing I believe and knew it to be false. At one point I came to the utter hells of myself, all the things about me that an organized religion’s god might judge in the end days…but it was I who was the judge. Just when I thought I might go insane I realized that none of it was who I truly was inside. I accepted myself and all aspects of ‘me’ and crossed the border between all I thought I was into what I Am.

An infinite space stretched out before me with near~invisible waves emanating from some behemoth to the right of my vision. I had no body, I was only a tiny speck of consciousness. The weight of the alien nature of my surroundings was intense. A sound emanated from the waves that passed through me with a vibration, a powerful and indescribable hum that caused every pore to be in a constant state of liquid ecstasy. As with my previous experience the pure essence of love washed over me in waves of sound and colour.

The behemoth to the right of my spot in space was a god, rather the first of gods in the first of heavens. Everything is a wave that repeats itself from microcosm to macrocosm, a mirror image on whatever level the soul is working. The closest description of the form It chose is a sea anemone, if It could be called that. It was so massive that I could only really see a part of the left half of It, glistening like Earth from space at night with multi~points of light, like living glitter. It had infinite and infinitely~coloured tendrils that stretched out from It. Each ended at a globe, if you will, a sphere inside which a nameless number of worlds existed, each with their own life forms and experiences. Countless dimensions/planes/worlds inside countless spheres on countless tendrils of God, and It was in the act of experiencing all of them at once. I saw that nothing that anyone does can be ‘good’ or ‘bad’, because God is only love, living out each action we take to move closer to It. It is everything and everything a part of It, like the glass of a mirror that shatters itself in order to gain the experience of returning all pieces back to itself again. I floated at the base of all I could see until I was taken up through the tendrils and their spheres of infinite universes and into Sugmad and was one with It.

The silence that existed there…the pulsing, glistening silence of experiencing everything at once is all there is, was profound to say the least. In my Foreversong God is not looking down in anger or disappointment, It’s not making plans to thwart the evil force, not doing its homework to decide who’s worthy or guilty. God is sitting quietly on the Eternal Couch, watching countless movies all at once, the very movies we are making every second of our lives. More than that, God is living each life with the liver, literally looking through our eyes as we go about making the choices of our experience. When we make a choice that impedes the progression of ourselves or others we are moving away from It. When we make a choice that allows the progression of ourselves and others we are moving back to It.

God allowed me to feel what being It felt like, and inside It I lived every life in existence, infinitely. My small human mind is not big enough to have kept all those lives inside me but they, as a whole, introduced me to the biggest picture: that everything truly is okay. I acknowledged then that even if I forgot everything I had learned in that space it would still all be okay, and that a basic seed had been planted inside of me that could never be lost again.

It changed everything, but this experience has not made me holy. When we return to our bodies we are human again, subject to lessons and laws that physical things must experience. Do I still judge people? Yes, though not as vehemently as before, because now I know that people simply don’t remember what’s waiting, and that even in their unknowing they are moving. It’s a constant cycle of sleeping and waking. It is the way of man in our search for wholeness. Even in our judgment and hate and horror we are searching for love.

Joy can be ours in this life and heaven can be found in the here and now. We need not wait for death to find it. When I am who I Am, I am experience, which is arguably the reason for all existence. When I am who I Am, I am okay and you are okay, and we are all each other and the sum of us is It. As above, so below.

I don’t cry anymore when I sit on the moon, I look at Earth and see it as one bus stop of many. Of what I have seen in the ethereal realms of non-endingness, being physical is unique. I am a mirror image of the Source of energy from whence I emerged, choosing a physical experience as a means of finding myself…again.