Posts Tagged Astral Projection

Manifesting

3 June 2010

Traveling by flight
Alone in a dream
High above the clouds
Far from the sea

To a field she came to land
As the breath of a breeze
Mist-shrouded forest surrounds
Obscuring the castle keep

Sensing his energy
Vibrating at low frequency
Underestimating his needs
Born of pure wondering

Searching for truth
The whole of his life
Waiting for the answer
And the question is why

His alter of strength
Change flows with the seasons
Born of past experiences
Ancestral history

Swiftly she moves
To capture a glimpse
Toward the tempered glass
Outstretches her hand

An enchanted moment
Etched now in her memory
As he slumbers on worn leather
Wrapped in his loneliness

Inner Realms

30 March 2010

It’s that fleeting moment when you hang in the balance; no longer awake, not fully asleep. Where reality and fantasy enmesh and become one; and you know with clear certainty, in the deepest most secret recesses of your soul that what you thought was only a dream, was actually your truth…

Inner Realms

30 March 2010

It’s that fleeting moment when you hang in the balance; no longer awake, not fully asleep. Where reality and fantasy enmesh and become one; and you know with clear certainty, in the deepest most secret recesses of your soul that what you thought was only a dream, was actually your truth…

The visit

31 July 2009

the visit

He could see how tired she was, that day he happened upon her alone in the café; and though he purposely took his thoughts elsewhere, ignoring her completely, he knew from her body language that he’d once known so well, there was something amiss; and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her life that was causing such fatigue.

Years ago he’d gone away from her, removed her completely from the equation of his life; but that didn’t stop him, from on occasion, seeing her shadow pass across his wall. Each time it happened, his perception shifting; re-instilling those truths and beliefs he’d discovered while in the presence of her; a presence he once believed was easy to shake, though part of him secretly yearned to hold onto.

While his real life was constantly in the forefront of his thinking, somewhere in the back of his mind lingered the life they had known; that driving light, filled with her laughter, dimmed by her cries, exploding with their passion; bringing something magical to his world of sameness.

His ability to sense her presence from miles away, clouding his memory on sun-dappled days; the one constant, through the years that had remained; though he still wasn’t sure, if what he was feeling was real; or simply his imagination running wild, that caused him to linger, night after endless night. A vigil in the darkness, waiting for and willing her to come.

The rains came, followed by raging thunder and a fantastical lightening show, as he sat in the corner of the darkened room; waiting, watching, hoping; that she would not disappoint. He fell asleep in the chair somewhere around three, waking suddenly as a cool breeze, brushed gently across his flesh.

He opened his eyes and watched in silent fascination; as the misty shadow floated gracefully across the room; then as if willing it to happen, she slowly began to materialize.

She was wild-eyed in her misery, carrying the same tired and worn out expression he’d seen a few days before, etched across her beautiful face. He knew right then that he had called her to him; that she never would have come on her own. His heart overflowing, with the sudden feeling of guilt; for the pain he had caused, because of what together they had done.

He sat up a little straighter, unconsciously clinging to the arms of the chair; gathering courage, he spoke out to her. “I don’t blame you. I know you think I do; but I don’t. I never did.”

She turned slowly, casting her gaze upon him; the veil of her so thin, that he could see right through it. In the blink of an eye, the span of a breath, she was upon him; face-to-face, as they once comfortably lay. She hovered in front of him, weightless; though he could feel her pressing down on him; searching his face, seeking truth in his eyes; as a single tear, sparkling like a jewel, dripped from hers; landing as a raindrop, upon his naked thigh.

He wanted to tell her that he missed her; that he worried and wondered of her constantly. That their time spent together had not been in vain; that a part of her, in his heart, would always remain. And while the words he still could not muster, the one thing she never ran dry of; the truth she saw clearly, in his green aging eyes.

Memory Holes

19 May 2009

Tunnel

My mission was clear, determined in the hours preceding my slumber. A journey must be made in order to obtain the necessary information to formulate my plot. And so under the cloak of darkness, when my body and mind were at rest and the door to world’s unknown lay open and waiting, my spirit took flight and magically passed through.

Preparation of meditation and cleansing are no longer necessary for me, as once they were. I simply bring to the forefront of my thinking that a journey is required, and once I reach a plateau of unconsciousness where my spirit is able to detach itself, it does so eagerly and without pause. As if triggering a mechanism, all that I see, hear, feel, taste and touch are recorded in the memory banks of my mind; for future extraction upon reentry of my spirit.

Astral flight, astral projection, out-of-body experience; call it what you will, the process is the same, though the outcome widely varies. Normally, there is a clear and decisive reason for these journeys; as the answer to a question or solution to a problem is sought. This time, however, I left myself wide open with no particular question or problem, just the need and want to visit a dimension I had never before traveled, in order to capture and create from whence I had come.

I was not disappointed, but I was however distressed and somewhat traumatized by the experience. It was as if I was being led, instead of traveling of my own free will, and the one doing the leading had a specific reason for taking me there. The reason was to reacquaint me with my sin. The destination was HELL!

The corridor was long and dark, with hard-packed dirt floors and walls of rock that were high and arched; like the tunnels they dig through mountains, only there was no end in sight.

As I was led through the center of the tunnel, glass-fronted rooms lined either side. In each room, or life-size box as I came to think of them, was a specific scene from my life; scenes of sin that I had forced myself to forget; filing them away in the deepest recesses of my mind, where I was certain they would stay locked. Suddenly, and without warning, forced to relive each and every one.

To stand outside the box and watch, grateful when the show was over and the box went dark; only to turn and see the miles and miles of sin that lay ahead; sin that I must now suffer; as no thought, regard or consideration was given at the time.

The dread I felt, at the prospect of having to suffer so many, pales in comparison to the shame, regret and repulsion I felt; as I watched myself commit one deadly sin after another.

I begged for mercy, but mercy was not given; for this is death at its inception and what each and every one of us must go through. While the decision has already been made, the process by which it was determined is played out for us; right before our eyes, in the form of our lives.

“Be certain that your sins will find you out.”
Numbers 32:23

inside looking out

25 June 2008

Tribal winds blow flutes calming melody
Drumbeats surround and penetrate the soul

Ancient One wanders beckoning me forward
Drifting on the horizon a distant illusion

I reach out in vain urgent need to understand
Meaning of his message always in disguise

Carry me away from here take me far away
I beg of thee please release me from this pain

Release you seek at these hands of mine
Reflection mirrored when you explore inside

Unbound the soul of constricting ties
Only then can you truly seek and find

There is no pain of which you speak
Understand this and no more need will there be –

The Dance of Wandering Souls

6 June 2008

She thought she was dying; the pain, that excruciating; the anxiety and nausea overwhelming; and the sweats; god, the sweats; unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. After twenty-four hours of suffering, she finally called her doctor and made an appointment. He examined her thoroughly, while running through the typical barrage of questions in an attempt to pinpoint a diagnosis, but kept coming to the same inconclusive end.

She asked about psychic intrusion, as there was an intense ethereal element to what was happening to her – not to mention the fact that she believed she’d recently met the mate of her soul. He looked at her like she’d lost her mind and immediately checked her chart; asking if the Zoloft was still working for her. She knew it would be futile to continue along those lines; remembering a time when she could come to him with anything; and he listened. She was suddenly saddened at the fact that he’d allowed the years and the industry to stifle his open-mindedness; and so she dropped it.

He sent her on her way with a prescription for something to ease the cramps and nausea; telling her that if the symptoms didn’t go away in a few days to call back and he’d schedule “some tests.”

The medication didn’t work, and by the end of the second day she was so weak and exhausted that she couldn’t even entertain the thought of getting up and going anywhere; and so she suffered through; resting during those times when the torturous symptoms faded; knowing she’d need every ounce of strength and energy, should they come back. And so they did; over and over and over again…

It was the end of the third day; the worst by far; she was beginning to wonder if maybe she should have called 911 and been admitted to the nearest hospital, but something inside – way down deep at the core of her being – made her believe that whatever was happening to her, needed to reach fruition.

She’d lost all concept of time; completely consumed; fading in and out of consciousness; fearing she were about to die; when he came softly; riding the last painful tide.

She recognized him immediately; The Ancient One – her Native spirit guide; the wise one who travels between time; and suddenly all was calm.

She felt the warmth of the fire, whose flames danced in the darkened sky. She smelled the sweet smoke that he cupped in his hands and poured over her weary head. “You have done well my child – now you must rest.”

“What’s happening to me,” she whispered. “Shhh…don’t speak…listen” She closed her eyes; falling helplessly into a sublime state of relaxation; concentrating on nothing but the sound of his voice; his words weaving images that filled her completely.

“You have been in the Dark Night of the Soul; a spiritual transformation; one that empties you completely; physically – emotionally – mentally and spiritually; a test of your spirit upon meeting your other half.” She stirred restlessly upon hearing the words “other half,” but he quickly settled her and continued.

He spoke of Soul Mates and Twin Flames; the difference being that we can have multiple soul mates; those we have many lifetimes and experiences with, who help us grow and evolve; creating and dissipating karma; but as for a Twin Flame, each of us having but one; the soul splitting; each half going their own way; incarnating several times, as they gather human experiences before reuniting in their last lifetime; the release of creative energy, to be used for their spiritual mission; the ultimate goal being that they may ascend together; the twin soul connection; two people connected by soul; connected to God.

“This will be the most fulfilling relationship you can enter into as a human; a rarity not to be taken lightly; more intense than any other union; a love so unconditional, as to be Divine; existing on all levels, but beginning at the level of the soul. There can be nothing between you to block the closeness, when in the presence of your twin.”

“How will I know if it’s really him?” she asked; his soft laughter lulling her deeper into the infinite abyss. “This meeting will be so life-changing and profound that such a question need not be asked; a union guaranteeing a deeper connection and understanding of Universal Oneness; but make no mistake, my child; the challenge will come in loving unconditionally, without expectation; your longing and desire to be with one another overwhelming; but over time you will come to understand that this longing is to join with the Divine; as two halves of the greater whole.” She smiled in quiet contemplation; believing for the first time, in miracles.

“There will be much work, in cleansing your karmic pasts; this task which must be completed together, will bring challenges that force you to grow and heal; mentally, physically and spiritually; while you learn to see beyond your physical limitations, ego, and time itself. Your intense desire will drive you toward one common goal; to be the absolute best manifestation of your spirit on earth; tested by fire – enduring beyond all time and space.”

She returned to the material world; forever changed; seeing and experiencing life in a whole new and different way; the possibilities suddenly endless; imagination limitless; her pain and pleasure no longer hers alone; enmeshed and reunited with her one Twin Soul.

And so begins the story of Archibald and Clarissa…

Sunday Scribblings

17 February 2008

sundayscribblings.jpg

Sunday Scribblings – #98 Sleep

Sleep; the essential ingredient to life – when our bodies wind down and rejuvenate, so that we can properly function during our waking hours; when our spirits are set free to take flight from their earthy bonds and travel to realms only known to us in our unconsciousness.

I love sleep and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I love napping on rainy afternoons, snuggling in my cocoon of warm blankets on cold winter nights, sleeping with the windows open so the breeze washes over me, or drifting off while basking in the sun, as it warms me from the inside out. My mother says I have to keep moving, because when I cease to move, I sleep. I suppose she’s right, but I no longer feel guilty for napping. I consider it a luxury.

But more than the relaxed state my body is in during slumber, I love the places my dreams take me. My dreams are so vivid and out there, that I keep a Moleskine notebook and pen beside my bed, so that upon waking, even before I open my eyes, I can record the dream in as much detail as possible. I write with my eyes closed, so that the memory is in no way influenced, and surprisingly I do this very well. Many of my stories actually stem from my dreams.

And what are dreams really, but astral projections; periods of time when our consciousness drifts us away from our body, enabling us to observe the world or other planes of existence from a non-physical aspect. Yes, I really believe this, and no, I don’t do drugs.