It wasn't snow, but everything was white. Even the sky had no sun or stars; itself, simply a white space field. I was above a cloud cover that obscured whatever lay below it. There was a steep conical white-grass hill with a tall, rounded, pearly tower, narrowing sharply at its peak.
Around the top of this tower, a thick ring of bodies flew as if orbiting the structure; white-colored people (not caucasian, but as if they had been dipped into a pallid or ashen paint). They had lovely feathered wings. All was a metaphor made literal.
As I approached - also flying - I perceived that there was a great struggle going on; a battle where these people wrestled while in flight, like warring birds. They made great and powerful sounds, like a mixture between shouting and singing. Their tussles were a kind of combat; where all parts of their bodies, voices, minds, and spirits were intensely engaged. I floated from a safe distance, trying to grasp what I was seeing.
Tremendous gusts of wind laid the grass below me on its side, then blew from the other direction pushing each blade all the way to the other side. It was the most bizarre scene I'd ever witnessed.
Instead of color, there were only levels of a white spectrum, ranging from pure shining white, down through the gray scale to almost black. I got the impression that true black was non-existence, that is why there was none.
The people were physically beautiful--perfect, as if ideal marble statues had come to life. Why were they fighting?
From the very top of the tower, ever so often, issued a louder spoken-like song, and the people would pause mid-flight to listen, hanging in the air as if in deep contemplation. The loud voice was not artificially amplified. It was a much more powerful person clothed in another form. Whenever the loud voice ceased its call from the tower, the flying people went at each other with an even greater ferocity. After several intensifying cycles, I could barely even see what was going on anymore. It was...AWE-ful.
No blood was being shed, but it was a violence well-beyond anything I'd ever witnessed. Pieces of wings would come flinging out and fall to the wind-churned grass below. It was obvious that there were two sides in this conflict. And, as one of them began to prevail, the white color of everything around began to slip into darker and darker shades of gray. Then, the other side would rebound and the world would lighten up again, almost to a level where it was so bright that no shadows at all existed.
The cloud of bodies circling the tower began to contract inward toward it--densifying, and then expand outward away from it--loosening. The energy was of a cosmic nature. The people appeared to possess forms of power that were both ultimately destructive, but also indestructible.
Then everything began to change...
I watched bodies being thrown from the melee, no longer able to fly. They fell limply far down and into the cloud cover. And, when they passed through it, a pure blackness rose and swallowed them up. First, it was only a few people, then dozens, as the ring of war thinned. The world around me grew darker. And the sky filled with charcoal-colored storm clouds. The side that made things brighter was dying.
Suddenly, the body of one of these people came hurling toward me, and I caught him in my arms. His eyes were barely open and he wheezed out a weakening melody line. All over his naked, ivory-tinted body were black symbols, writing of a sort I could not decypher, brands, burned into him by the songs of the opposition.
The simple act of catching him mid-fall strengthened him, and some of the symbols began to heal and disappear. As I looked down at my own arms, I noticed they were pinkish white--the only other color I had seen besides white. He struggled to raise his hand and touched my forearm, looking quite surprised. I'm not sure why, but I spoke-sang a song to him. And, the lyrics were: "You need to wear your flesh. Wear your flesh. Wear your flesh..." Very confusing. My mantra is: "Wear your soul." It made no sense.
He opened his eyes widely and smiled. They turned blue! And a warm peach color began to flow out to the surface of his pale skin. Beneath him, his wings moved back and forth, coming together then opening up again, as if preparing for flight. I let him go and he hovered in front of me. He indicated that I should follow him back under the ring of war (the people fighting each other around the top of the tower), to the mid-part of the building. The world around us was darkening now to the point where the tower itself was a deep and burnt gray.
He grasped my hand and we flew closer and closer to the side of the tower. It took a while to reach it. It was so enormous that by the time we were right next to it I could no longer see its curvature. He sang to me to go inside, and then let go of my hand, flying back up toward the battle with a flush of warm reddish glow to his skin and a glistening iridescence to the feathers of his wings. I slipped through a crack in the gigantic stones of the tower and entered the hollow interior.
Along the edges was a winding stairway running from bottom to top. I stood on a landing, and looking down, saw a rolling mist obscuring the base. Far, far above me was a crystal floor where the large form of the powerful person paced back and forth, occasionally stepping to the outer wall to look out at the war around him.
All at once, I felt the presence of the Spark. It felt just like it does when I'm tired at night and searching for a sleep spot. It told me (without words) to descend the stairway as far as I could. At that point I noticed that I didn't have wings like the other people. I hadn't possessed them at all throughout this event. But I could still will myself to float and fly. I leapt from the landing, moving along the sides of the inside of the tower, down a flight of stairs to the next landing. I did this over and over again until I reached the edge of the mist. I was so far down that I could not even see the other side of the tower anymore.
That's when it happened... I became fully lucid. I woke up inside of this dream--realizing it was a dream. I was very excited to be conscious. As I do, when in this rare state, I tested my lucidity by feeling the sleeping bag on my outside. I knew that in the real world I was lying down, physiologically asleep.
It was no longer a dream, but another place where I simultaneously existed, somewhere in the middle of an ancient, distant, and mystic saga. This reality was now mine to do with what I wanted. I reached out and touched the side of the tower. It was cool, smooth and solid under my fingertips. And where they made contact with the wall a golden light began spreading out across the stone, making it semi-translucent. Around the edges of this golden light the colors of a rainbow swept out concentrically in every direction. It looked very much like the rainbow I had just seen in Greenville a few days previously.
The large form at the very top, maybe a mile above me, stopped his pacing and looked down. The Spark told me that he was the maker of the ring of war. His form turned as black as crude oil and spread across the width of the tower, as if to halt the influence of color that was turning the tower into a rainbow-highlighted gemstone.
Where my hand met the wall it was now as clear as glass and I could see, through its thickness, that a blue sky had appeared above. Below, on the outside, the white grass turned green, and the wind subsided.
I simply could not fathom what I was seeing. It was all too much for me. I couldn't bear what was occurring. The circumstances went beyond my ability to withstand the unfiltered reality of the situation. My mind was too small to grasp the profound aspects that were flooding into it, and my astonishment at just how vivid everything had become, forced me to wake up inside the tent surrounding my formerly-sleeping body.
* * * * * * *
I lay there dumbfounded, my heart pounding under my shirt and sweater. I was panting heavily, closing my eyes and trying repeatedly to fall back asleep again so I could find out how the story ended. But I met with failure. I was too wide awake now and the material world around me reminded me that I had this life to get up and face.
The great thing about lucid awareness is the ability to remember the dream that brought it on in great detail. I have learned - trained myself - to repeat the story line of these kinds of "dreams" over and over again, in order to recount them later--as I am doing now. Tangentially, I knew that this last one was done in a movie-like style. I was an actor and there was a definite storyline to it all. In a way, I'd known that the whole time, from first observing this strange air war, to the moment I became conscious that it was a dream and could manipulate circumstances within it.
There has been a definite evolution to my states of lucid awareness over the last year. In previous years, I would become lucid and just play around in the reality as set by the dream that got me there; flying, passing through objects, trying to have sex with characters that I would create (I mean, why not, when you can make anything you want?). It had been an adolescence that took a long time to pass beyond. Having fun is a natural human desire, especially when so divorced from a "real" world that was often not fun at all.
However, during this Living Magazine Journey, whenever I would become lucid, I would remind myself that there were higher, deeper, more important things that could be accomplished in that state. As I spoke about, after entering the lucid realm while sleeping in Memphis, I now realize that it has been the Spark that has orchestrated these mental exercises. It is also the intention of the Spark to work with me in a much more direct way than it can in the material world, through these dream-to-consciousness experiences. By following the Spark - once in the lucid awareness state - much more can be learned from its infinite store of knowledge. Other times and places, other realms and dimensions, other living storylines, histories, adventures and contacts can be beheld and thus enjoined.
Even the lucidity itself is now changing, during each new experience within it. Instead of seeking to control everything set up in whatever dream stage I stand upon, I now relinquish partial control to the Spark, to see what it has in store for the night's seminar. It is becoming a graduate course in psychic superintendence. The spiritual advancement thereby derived, happens after the interactive experience--borne of the lucid adventure/lesson. The spiritual outworking of what I learn by lucid awareness can then be applied to the everyday circumstances of my Journeying.
This is not a fiction, folks! It is a real thing taking place in my mind during physiological sleep and being applied to my waking world. I'm sure that many people are undergoing similar psychic situations. They may label the components with different terms than I use, or interpret them in ways that they are better able to comprehend. All told, these things are composed of phenomena that are not of the physical world--but still Real. I guess that because they are beyond the reach of the scientific method they are ignored by "rational" society. Still, I stand as a witness to the fact they are part of an as-of-yet unexplored aspect of human existence; a psychic and normally-invisible landscape that is being charted, tested, analyzed and discovered by those of us sensitive and accepting enough to explore it. Writing off these experiences by the stubborn and uninspired mind, should only be done at the risk of falling behind what will (in my opinion) become part of the future life of our species. This lucid awareness is not to be underestimated. And, I will continue to relate my own version of it whenever it occurs.
For some reason, I thought it would be cloudy this morning and had forgotten that there would be this one last clear day before the big storm was to hit. So, when I opened the tent flap and saw the orange light of the sunrise, surrounded by a turquoise sky, I was greatly encouraged about the day.
Once I'd mentally stored the lucid experience, I thought back to the movie I'd seen the night before (The Revenant--as discussed in the previous post here). Was it the inspiration for my psychic adventure? Well, it didn't really seem to be. The story lines were markedly different. Yet, I could hypothesize that the movie had opened my mind to the possibility of a dream-based adventure. It didn't really matter.
I decided to pack up the tent and bring it with me. I felt that leaving it for two days might invite the tiny critters to begin colonizing the outside and the space between the tent and the tarp/fly. I walked the half mile to Starbucks...
I bought my regular dark roast, then got online to tell my Facebook friends about my fortunate movie ticket, and what an impression the movie had made on me. This is what I posted...
So, when one is out in public enough, one is privy to advantageous circumstances. A woman walked by my table at Starbucks just before I left yesterday afternoon and asked me if I wanted a ticket to see the movie "The Revenant." The theater just happens to be right across from my sleep spot, so I gratefully took the ticket. It was for 7:10 pm.
I went and had my daily bread and then walked back to the spot where I'd left my tent set up to make sure it was still there, then crossed the parking lot and went to see the movie! It was AWESOME!
Leonardo DiCaprio deserves the best actor award for that. My gawd what a great job he did! Definitely my favorite actor now. What he had to do in that movie - not to mention what the real man Hugh Glass had to endure in the early 19th Century wilderness - makes what I'm doing look easy.
It was the perfect movie for me to see. It inspired me and gave me confidence for all of the hard times I will still face on my way back to Maine. Of course, my experiences are tame compared to the above. Still, even in a modern world, true outdoor adventure and danger (around civilization too) can be had for those willing to exceed themselves.
These things I do are what it's like to truly LIVE; to feel the cold, the rain, the snow, the baking sun, the rough ground; to see the animals and plants that rule the edges of our society; to live among them; to struggle and still survive to tell my story... It is not just the spice of life, it IS life--pure and undiluted.
I woke today feeling so thankful to the Universe, so grateful to my readers and supporters, so confident in myself and happy about my current life. It isn't comfortable in the way I grew up to think about comfort. But, spiritually, it is almost unspeakably rewarding. I try to describe it and think I do okay with that, but it is 100 times greater than the limits my words have ever reached.
When I return to Maine I want to inspire people to grab all the adventure they can--inner and outer. We have not yet subdued nature (thank God!). There is so much more to see and experience in this Real world that is so much greater than the "normal" - purely human - one that has become distracted by shallow concerns.
It is our relationships with each other that hold the meaning of existence--not STUFF. We are actors in each other's existence-plays. That we have a vast, beautiful world, with distant horizons, green vistas, blue waters and sky, golden deserts, snow, sun, and yes...even rain as our stage set and props, should not be so undervalued.
I have seen the magnificence of our gleaming cities in the day and night, too. They are certainly something we should feel proud for having achieved. But, I will tell you, as one who has been in both the natural and manmade extremes... Civilization is much easier to get lost in--to lose one's way. Nature is there to be found in--to rediscover one's self and the Reason for it all.
I worked for a while on the day's blog post and then read a reply from a friend who said she had a hard time with the intensity of movies like The Revenant. This was understandable to me. When one has had real life trauma, sometimes one has to ramp down one's entertainment choices. She is a regular reader of this blog and enjoys participating in my adventures vicariously. Her reply inspired me to respond as follows...
Everyone needs their comfort zone--nothing wrong with that! Some of us simply find it a bit farther out on the perimeter. If we didn't have both, no adventures would be written about and no one would experience them vicariously by reading. I imagine the warmth of manmade security inversely, as you might experience the cold of uncertainty from that warmth. It's all so freakin great-ultimately! A good balance. A world with only one or the other would be unbearable to all.
However, I think there is a little tiny thread that connects both: the sense of starting, enduring, and finishing. The feeling of accomplishment. By that I mean, it could be me waking in a camp spot, walking, writing, and then camping again--a day's work well done. Or, starting this Journey going through all of it and then being able to sit at a pier in Portland, on Casco Bay, with a bloody mary in front of me, knowing that I accomplished a whole project (with a lot of help--admittedly).
The same could be said for beginning a scary book (especially one that is based on a real thing), reading it each night, and closing that back cover. A project well done--by both the author and the reader.
What I think would be sad, would be to live a life where projects are dreamed up but never gotten to, or where they are started but never finished. The feeling of accomplishment is never fully realized.
I know a man whose life has been like that.
Whether it is boredom, procrastination, lack or organizational skill, lack of experience or knowledge, maybe even "fear of success"... ultimately, it is the WILL choice that gets one from start to finish. The delayed gratification can be its own reward. And those who get "high" on accomplishing their goals live a richer life for it.
For anyone out there who can't seem to get out of his/her way (not speaking to _____ here, since she has amazed me with her business project completion in this way) toward starting a self-challenge--big or small, I have one bit of unasked-for advice...
Take the first step. In fact, it may be a new first step each day in the same *direction*, and you will find that little bits of success, grease the tracks for bigger bits of success, and those facilitate easier and easier steps forward. Before you know it, you have accomplished your goal. THAT satisfaction is unmatched in all of your other experiences. The next project can be bigger, wider, greater and even more satisfying.
Okay, didn't mean to write an essay, but these things are fundamental to happiness and satisfaction in life, and they will be used in a future blog post. Thanks ______ (You are braver than you give yourself credit for.)
When I'd utterly spent myself out on writing, it was time to get the daily meal. Once again I went to Dairy Queen for a burger and fries. It was the cheapest and closest place to find food. Now my food fund was empty. I'd received word from Joyce, my manager, that it was a "go" for the room at the Super 8 the next day. Good news for sure. And, I still had the funds donated for that purpose from another very generous friend. I might not be able to eat, but at least I could ride out the storm in warmth and shelter (not to mention take a shower!).
In the men's room of the restaurant I had to laugh. Some evil, but clever, vandal had found a way to mar the diaper changing experience. Ha! ...
I got back to the campsite and set the tent up again. Looking through the trees at the bits of neon light from the cinema across the street, I longed to be in there again to watch another movie. Going to the movies is one of my favorite things. Back when I had a "normal" life (with money and such), I'd try to see a new movie each week. My favorites are true stories, sci-fi, adventure, and fantasy.
Sometimes I'll watch an action or comedy film online, but rarely at a theater. And, my least favorites are romances and slapstick stuff. I have to be dragged along with a group, or enticed in some way by a girlfriend to see those.
Knowing that the storm would begin on this night, I staked the tent very carefully, making sure that each wide part of the tarp/fly was not touching the tent material in any way or it would transfer moisture into the tent. I also used my method of rolling the new green footprint tarp under the shelter of the tent's tarp/fly so that water wouldn't seep under the tent floor...
Reaching the end of my energy wick, I crawled in and went to sleep, not really knowing whether the icy rain predicted would penetrate the tarp/fly or just bounce off of it. So, I kept the little blue hiking tarp that I'd found and used in Athens at the ready to throw over the top of the tent. And, as I would discover through a much more practical kind of dream that night, I would be glad to have it available.
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Right On Brother!! . . . (you said) " There is so much more to see and experience in this Real world that is so much greater than the 'normal' - purely human - one that has become distracted by shallow concerns.
ReplyDeleteIt is our relationships with each other that hold the meaning of existence--not STUFF. We are actors in each other's existence-plays. That we have a vast, beautiful world, with distant horizons, green vistas, blue waters and sky, golden deserts, snow, sun, and yes...even rain as our stage set and props, should not be so undervalued. "
Yeah really!! .."It is our relationships with each other that hold the meaning of existence--not STUFF." Thanks Alex --ell
. . Not to ignore your glorious statement, "That we have a vast, beautiful world, with distant horizons, green vistas, blue waters and sky, golden deserts, snow, sun, and yes...even rain as our stage set and props, should not be so undervalued."
ReplyDeleteYes, in fact, IN REALITY, we live "on a rock" that we are In Charge Of for not just us, but all planetary life to come. First we need to understand that yes, we CAN influence our planetary stability for better or worse, SO WE NEED TO CHOOSE. Individually, collectively, our choices are being revealed for the choosing on behalf of not just us, but all life to come, especially in the critical consideration of GENETIC INHERITANCE being distorted, contaminated, violated beyond "fixing" because of the insular view that our planet's biological foundation cannot be seriously undermined to the extreme of life-support collapse, which it CAN without a sort of "Manhattan Project" for preservation of life itself , here, now. --ell
Very well said, Ellen. There is so much to take care of... This rock and its mossy covering (life) took care of us--let us develop to the point where now it depends on us. We can't let it down by fouling our own nest. I think the simple act of going outside frequently does quite a bit to help us appreciate what we have left, and could preserve and foster in the future. I think we will do it, but there will be more destruction to come first--the momentum of our careless past, as it catches up to our more CAREful present. Thank you for reading and sharing this post at Facebook! :-)
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