Palyne

Archived from the former firedocs blog. 24 February 2006

Recently I was thinking about my transition from Religious to Anti-Religious to Agnostic to Metaphysical to Occult to Areligious to, these days, either oblivious or intensely spiritual, depending on the day. From the age of 15 to my current 40, about the only thing I can say has been consistent with me is that I am sincere.

I could not be more cynical about ‘organized’ religion and what amounts to governance and control, and yet, at this point in my life I have more respect for what churches have and can do than I ever have.

I could not be less in line with any organized theologisophilosomethingish if I tried, and yet, my “relationship” with … identities that I consider to be spiritual beings (or at the very least, something different than myself), is more powerful than ever. And with the idea that we all have a purpose, that nobody is born or dies by accident, etc.

I am not and have never been Catholic. Yet I have so much Catholic imagery in some of my experiences I wonder if that’s all become an archetype. And then ironically, I am connected with two ‘religions’, one gnostic-catholic and one a metaphysically-catholic. Who knew there were so many options. ;-)

I once I wrote about a dream I had involving a group of nuns. If I have a parallel life, one is probably killing people as a soldier and the other is probably a nun. It would figure, and would explain a lot I suppose…

But I dream things like that. And now and then I just fall into the feeling of (Archangel) Michael. I feel that for whatever reason, I am aligned with him, and with Mary, whom neither the church nor history truly controls or has an inkling into the power of.

Some days I don’t think about it even once. Some days I feel “filled with the spirit” and “in the center.” Those days, synchronicity and ‘awareness’ are much higher; maybe those things cause that feeling, who knows. I have to wonder about Michael looking like a shimmering multicolor orb of light in a vaguely human form but with some ‘lack of distinct’ near the feet; all that red-orange-gold-yellow schema (not to be stupid, but I’d have expected blue); this in an RV session I desperately wished I’d continued longer… not bad for 2 minutes in a parking lot (sigh).

Why does it call me and not others?

I still have what I call ‘occult’ dreams. I dream about the Order (O.T.O.) or something analogous to that at least, rituals and some very weirdish things that, once awake, I can pretty clearly see the symbolism in. I wonder why I still dream about that, as if my “development continues on,” even though consciously I have nothing to do with that anymore.

I dream about my future, my destiny, a ‘role’ of sorts that I resist like crazy. Nothing important, mind you, just that I am more comfortable in my armchair. I dream about things that tie into a “christ” realization, I am not talking about Jesus here but about a certain state of consciousness. I still don’t really understand how I can get both Christian stuff and Occult stuff and Catholic stuff — and even sometimes alien stuff — and it’s all in the same darn world. Jungian Stew, as I call it.

When I was a Christian I prayed fiercely to better understand the truth of Jesus, and ended up believing he’d been a good man but most the stories were myth, since that is what years of prayer led to. Yet, once I was totally NOT religious, I MET “Jesus” for real, in spirit, and was overwhelmed, and totally understood the bawling-stunned-starry-eyed response that people have to being genuinely, not just for the church but in spirit, “Born Again.”

Maybe He is a thought-form; I just don’t know. It is all sort of confusing to be honest.

I was listening to oldies, John Denver, the other day and he was singing,

He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Coming home to a place he’d never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key to every door

– from Rocky Mountain High

That line ‘coming home…’ always gets me in that song. I wonder if there is a place, a mate, a destiny, for each person, or if it’s really just whatever you make of life in some unspiritual, unimportant random odds kind of thing. If we create our reality in part or wholly, does believing in destiny create it?

I think I am going to start reading the i Ching again at night. Like the bible, moreso in many ways, it has a certain ‘grounding-mellowing’ effect. As if whatever you read, then your subconscious is working on it from then on, without your attention.

How remote viewing ties into all of this, I surely don’t know, except that ‘being aware’ is IMO usually a good thing.

Psi is a whole new take on things. Kinda like when God leaves a callback number I guess.

Archived from the former firedocs blog. 09 January 2006

What is destiny?

Is it the need of the heart to assign some meaning to the randomness of where we end up?

Is it some convenient term to describe whatever we secretly wish for our lives? Or is what we secretly wish for our lives there inside us as the small voice of who we are and what we’re here for?

Is it something real, something at the core of all our existence, something our shallow negative culture has bred out of our attention?

What happens when the one thing your sense of destiny has been telling you consistently since you were 5 years old seems improbable at best, ego-bound or delusional at worst? How many years do you fight that sense, no matter how strong or conscious it is, no matter how it manifests at different ages, before it goes away and you feel like the window closed on some critical thing and you’ve lost it; you may as well die, if your primary purpose here was missed. At what time does a person find the courage to deal with their own resistance and give themselves up to what some larger, more powerful internal sense of self wants?

I am a magnet

For all kinds of deeper wonderment

I am a wunderkind

And I live the envelope pushed far enough to believe that

I am a princess on the way to my throne

Destined to serve

Destined to roam

(Alanis Morisette’s Wunderkind from the Narnia soundtrack)

I miss Archangel Michael. But from Jan 1-6 I had meditations that blew my mind and found me some really key elements of self. Whatever and wherever I am a year from now, I suspect will be in part because of those six days of the creation of a new world for me.

I call it destiny.

Archived from the former firedocs blog. 12 September 2005

We are lost without it.

Reality holds a catch-22 of the most profound sort. I look at the world around me and see grim despair, corruption and conspiracy. It seems like the scope of the negative is so vast that one can’t, even by the most optimistic standards, find any reason for hope. The whole of reality sometimes seems an endless tunnel . . . and someone clearly already blocked up the other side, so we aren’t ever gonna see light from that direction. How can I hope?

Wake up! That’s what faith is for. When there is reason for hope, we don’t need faith—we have reason, after all.

Faith is both a construction material and a dynamic. Faith itself can create new tunnels and shift circumstance toward finding a light at the end of one we’re in. With faith, we see paths we might never have seen otherwise. It is the ultimate “management perspective on reality.”

I had a sense that the monks, nuns etc. who pray continually and work to “hold and anchor” faith and such in our world, are critically important, and we have no idea what our consensus reality might be like without that. (I wonder if this “insight” is a side-effect of the dream with the nuns?)

Faith is like being happy: it takes work. It doesn’t just fall on you out of the sky. You can’t buy it, and it doesn’t have anything to do with circumstance. It seems a talent in some, although that has more to do with their innate connection to God/Self. It is a genuine skill, and one critical for development in times like these. Anybody can develop it; but it takes work: It takes asking for help. If you’re confused, try “To Whom it May Concern.” The human ignorance about God and the confusion over which pretty label to use only confuses humans… it does not confuse the myriad identities ready to help if asked. There is no point to moaning a lack of hope. Hope is directly tied to faith, and faith is directly tied to God. Ask for it.

The world isn’t going to get prettier. We were warned about this ahead of time. Why do we act surprised? Why do we sit and moan like victims? “Oh, the world’s so bad! Things are so dark! People are so corrupt! Waaaaaa!” Oh get over that! It is TIME for the people capable of holding faith in God, in love, in positive things, to begin doing so!

Michael and others of God are anchored in personalities all over this planet. Some of the most unlikely and unsuspecting people have immense inner strength—some born of experiences of this world, but known by their soul before their entry, and accepted so they would have the strength to live during these “interesting” times. It’s not enough to survive here in body. You are here during this time for a reason, and it is your spiritual duty to figure it out. When did it become “uncool” to pray?! Have the maturity, courage and fortitude to find who you are and be that potential.

Build your faith like a bridge you construct one prayer at a time. Ten seconds of prayer, a few times a day. Would 5-10 minutes total time invested per week be too much? How much is really being asked of you here? You have the potential. Step up to your responsibilities already.

Michael is calling and I just can’t shut up on his behalf! My God. Literally. I think I am actually getting openly spiritual.

My conscious mind is flipping out, observing this. But my inner self feels totally calm, bemused at my mind’s response, and… well, and I sure have a lot more faith than I did a week ago.

Michael has come through for me again. I asked once… a dozen years ago. When I had no faith, little optimism. When the shadows of the fear and violence that ruled most of my life hung over me like dark curtains I would never find my way through. And he brought me out of it just for the asking. And I swore I would not forget. Yet, in late ‘95, my whole “awareness” started just “going under”… I am coming to believe I was deliberately hidden, to keep me out of the limelight of certain entities. I let everything go in my oblivion. And I lost the thread… I lost the beat.

Recently, I asked for it back. I worked to have faith that “faith” itself would happen. And it has. Everything is just…. okay. The world is happening as it will, and on the surface it’s going to be worse, but it’s OK. Everything is going to be alright eventually. There is more at stake here than governments and bodies. There are levels of commitment and loss that we can’t even begin to conceptualize.

I AM of MICHAEL, I said on a little graphic I made yesterday. Going public with the Faith.

We have faith each according to his willingness to ask for it, allow it, and hold it. Cynicism is not cool; it’s pathetic. Ask for faith. Stand up and be counted. Be part of the spiritual solution here. It sure beats the alternative.

Archived from the former firedocs blog. 10 September 2005

I’ve been thinking about the magic again. His name was Nestor, and he was the ‘real thing’ that I suspect legions of fakes have attempted to emulate. A healer; some call it a ‘psychic surgeon’ though to be honest, I don’t like that term. The account I wrote about the experience not long after said,

I had this profound and rather important feeling while we were talking. It is difficult to explain and sounds a silly, but I’ll try.

I felt “internally certain” that IF ONLY I could be around him long enough, just stand next to him while he did this on people, that I could do it. That something inside of me “recognized” whatever he was doing. That somehow his… faith? skill? I don’t know…. would be almost contagious, if only the exposure were possible for me. I considered this consciously during that time, and I couldn’t find any logical reason why I’d feel that way, I just did. It was the… internal equivalent of something on the tip of your tongue. Like ALMOST recognized. Almost there. Almost made the connection. . . .

He didn’t do anything that martial arts traditions around the world haven’t described as possible. Still, it was . . . fascinating. Not sure why it’s on my mind lately.

Lately. . . for a couple weeks now, I wake up with my chant to Archangel Michael in my head in the mornings. Michael is the first and last thing I think about each day. I feel like he is calling me, like I’ve been asleep, in part “psychically hidden” from those identities which seemed to over-notice me previously, and it was time for me to ‘wake up’ and I didn’t, so he is stepping in to get my attention.

I’ve been doing the rosary . . . only partly, as I haven’t got any rosaries anymore, and am waiting on a very overdue paycheck so I can go buy one. Praying more often. When I listen to music, I feel more of the love and inspirational elements of the song than normal. I suppose I’m about to go on a spiritual binge or something. Haven’t done that, what, since 1993-5, the Bewilderness era.

So, talk about timing. Day before yesterday, My little girl said Hilary Duff’s song “Fly” was good, and I got her the album from PirateBay (clearly, my sudden slant on spirituality doesn’t keep me from stealing MP3s LOL!). She’s right–it’s a great song–sung by a man with a band arrangement, it might have been 80’s glam-rock. I know that if I were really “awake,” it’d be buffeting my chakras–during those zones, I can’t listen to anything but classical, and I can feel the music in my torso, as if each instrument is a color and they are playing a pattern inside me. Apparently I’m still a psychic brick, since I’ve been listening to this song overly loud in headphones and loving it. It is a bit inspirational (for pop, haha), and maybe I like it because the lyrics tie into my current feelings:

Any moment, everything can change . . . feel the wind on your shoulder

For a minute, all the world can wait . . . let go of your yesterday

Can you hear it calling? Can you feel it in your soul?

Can you trust this longing? And take control –

Fly ! . . . Open up the part of you that wants to hide away

You can shine . . . forget about the reasons why you cant in life, and start to try

Cause it’s your time . . . time to fly

I feel like it’s time to come home to the center, to that feeling ‘through my middle’ that I am tied into the universe, so to speak. I miss Michael… I miss that faith. Maybe it’s time to give up the wandering and get back to work.