CHAPTER XVI.

"So I wasn't dreaming, after all," she said to herself, "unless—unless we're all part of the same dream."

Lewis Carroll           
Through the Looking Glass          


{January, 1995}

I had such a vivid dream that I — another aspect of I (not this I, but the tall dark haired female aspect of I), was a daughter of someone in power in some Russian-type country, like old, old Russia, or maybe one of the regions near there. We (father and his men and servants and I/her) had traveled, I had the impression Westward, for some official occasion. While there, I/she met a man who I recognized, in the dream, as being my brother (in this life). He was passionately in love with her. But he was a poor nobody, and a foreigner to boot, there was simply no chance.

They determined to meet anyway. Somehow our father found out about it. She and the man (my brother) were to meet at this place secretly. I (somehow) was both part of her and yet actually wandering outside to keep an eye out for our father. And he came. He came storming toward me, he was bald but strong, muscled like a sword-fighting soldier, and the look on his face was grim and very bad news. He didn't see me and walked right through me. Then I woke up.

Do you suppose... that the "other aspects of me" — this woman was the long dark haired woman in the sarcophagus, and in the courtyard — could have past lives? Or that maybe if there are different lives on this planet, that different aspects of the "we" are "dominant," could that be possible?

Huh. I don't know about all this. How come she gets to be a princess and I get to be a proletarian?

I had continuing dreams, off and on, about Crowley. It seemed as if I was a different person in all of them. Some seemed spiritual and not even translatable, and some seemed like a normal dream.

{January, 1995}

In a dream, Aleister Crowley (of all people) and I lived in a very small house or flat. We were having a dinner party of sorts, three people over. One was some well known newspaper man in our area. I was doing most of the cooking and serving, and I was a bit nervous that everything go well. At one point I was so busy serving side dishes—potatoes, gravy, etc.—I forgot to serve the main course! (Sliced roast beef.) Aleister was so busy pontificating to everybody he didn't even notice. He was medium young there.

Everybody was full. They all sort of let him do the talking and looked at him, as if he were a novel curiosity or something. The newspaper guy often had this look on his face like he was there for some reason other than liking him — and didn't. For the most part they acted (even the woman who was there) as if I did not exist.

o0o

Different scene, even felt physically strange: Many people had been killed, as if by random violence or accident or some such thing, and lay bloodied in a row along the sidewalk where it happened. We discovered this because we were in a shop of some sort and all the lights went out. I couldn't tell if they were electric or simply a couple of large overhead glow bulbs (candles with protective outer glass coating). The shop keeper said we had to go because the police were closing the area. And we left and on the way home, walking (in daylight now, maybe summertime), we saw them, the corpses. Not up close. I felt oddly ambivalent and confused about it all; random violence of that scope didn't normally happen around me (is my impression); violence maybe, but not like that, not a dozen people dead all at once, who had no connection to each other but being in the same place.

Aleister knew somebody who lived fairly near, it was a small house looking almost like what would be a "little white church" in this reality, with a few steps up to the door, and we stopped there and went in and talked to the man about it. For once the man did more talking than Aleister, who seemed disconcerted about it all as well. (I didn't see A in this scene, I just knew he was with me.)

My boss was in the dream somewhere but he wasn't him. He was still some kind of inventor, but different than now, and I think he was a magician of sorts. Aleister thought he had 'great potential' but also thought he was a pain, personally. I wasn't sure how I felt about the guy; I rather liked him. (I didn't see A in this scene either, he was just there.)

Later, different scene, I'm watching like from a 3rd party astral view, concentrating on A. He goes into a rant about those things called automobiles and their eventual effect on the air. I'm baffled at why he'd be concerned about such a thing. And then I "know" it becomes a reality in the future, and I realize, Aha, this is another one of those things where he ends up being so right and nobody realizes it, and it's partly his eternally obnoxious way of presenting things of course.

Sensual and sexual dreams sporadically reminded me that my entire "self" was involved in much of this "exploration." Those I merged with were not always male, or in some cases gender was unclear; and of course, there were the objects, concepts, shapes, numbers, mythical critters, "superior aliens" and other non-humans involved.

Gradually my boundaries of morality on the subject dissolved, as the entire issue of sexuality, sensuality, and merging seems completely unrelated to human morality.

{January, 1995}

I had this dream last night that I was begging some entity to please have sex with me, to please merge with me, and my whole body was shaking with the desire to feel it completely intertwined with me. There was some level of recognition that he was a she, and that her gender was a variable thing. I woke up feeling lonely and unfulfilled.

{January, 1995}

Oh this is good. Sigh. The last month or so, I've been repeatedly waking up to, or given in the morning, a calm and emotionless understanding. I've just been informed that the world has now officially begun a new "cycle" so to speak. (Coincidental since it's just the new year.) And the secondary information part of my perception, not the message, is that this cycle (like oh by the way) could technically be said to match what some people call "end times," "Armageddon" and terms like that. (I hate them all.) Funny thing is, it's not really a dream — I'm wide awake! — and not a "discovery;" it's dull; it's like "being present during a psychic Public Service Announcement."

{January, 1995}

I was in a normal dream, but my attention was suddenly drawn to fascination. There was an amazing door I felt impelled to go through, and when I did, everything changed, and I found myself in what seemed to be the lobby of a very, very high rise hotel sort of building, something with tons of levels or stories in it. The whole feeling of things changed at that point; it became more linear, like an "experience" rather than "just a normal dream."

It was noisy, but looked to be tons of fun. There were people eating, drinking, and playing games of every imaginable sort, including a lot of gambling. In fact, the one notable factor about every game, no matter what it was (and it included everything from poker to board games to circus type games), is that it was gambling. There was some serious risk about losing, like it really cost you money or time or some such thing. Walking slowly through the lobby and watching the games, people from all sides, running games, were hawking them at me. A guy who looked like some kind of dwarf was standing on a long table with a long board and lots of game pieces on it; a curvy lady wearing a top hat and nothing else was running some kind of card game. I continued walking through the middle: but I don't like crowds much, and I dislike games of chance.

I walked for quite a long time, thinking, good grief, how big can a building possibly be? Eventually I reached an area where I concluded that I'd (finally) reached the opposite wall of the room, as the games had petered out. I couldn't even see the place where I came in, that's how far apart the walls were. Wondering how all the other people there had found this rather wondrous entertainment place, I sat down on a bench near the far wall in the corner.

After a few minutes of watching the games from there, I saw a man come into the room through a door right near me, in the blank wall, that was completely invisible until he went through it. With his head down, he quickly walked to just a few feet from where I was and—no kidding—disappeared into the wall. I thought, "Wow, that's some trick!" I decided to follow him, if I could. So I went over there, and found that if I walked right up to the wall where he did, a doorway suddenly appeared. I went through it, and found myself on the bottom landing of a stairway that wound upward. I went up the stairs, and the stairs and hallway ended at a door. So I went through the door, and found myself on what appeared to be the next story up of the gaming building. The people seemed to be dressed just slightly nicer there; I wasn't sure what it was, and at the time wondered about it, but something gave me the impression that it was slightly "better" than the first floor.

Just then, I saw the fellow I was following walk around a corner, and I dashed toward him in time to see him go through another invisible door. I followed him, finding myself in a small room with nothing, it was empty. Walking forward, as my nose almost touched the opposite wall a door appeared, and I went through it, found another staircase, and ended up on what was apparently the third floor.

When I got there, the fellow I was following was nowhere to be found. I avoided walking toward all the activity, which somehow seemed slightly different and far more interesting to me now, and sat down on the floor against the wall. I was determined to wait until somebody else, or maybe the guy I was following, showed up again and showed me how to get up to the next floor. I had somehow concluded during this that every floor was, in effect, some kind of entertaining trap. That the goal was actually to get to the top floor, but people got distracted, and then indebted, and forgot about moving upward. I had the feeling that I couldn't eat anything there, or drink anything, that for some reason that would tie me to that floor, so I sat and waited.

Eventually another man came in through an invisible door, walked past me and quickly vanished around a corner that I could swear hadn't been there. I jumped up and followed him, and found the doorway out, the stairway up, and the next floor. From that point on, I simply looked for the doors, without waiting to be shown. I didn't waste my time on any of the sights and sounds coming from the huge rooms of entertainment, I just went to work on finding the next door at each level. Up, and up, and up, it seemed like the building must be impossibly tall.

Finally I got to one level—and there was the blonde me-guy! It was the first time I'd met him in such a manner. Usually it's in a rather spiritual manner, an astral or archetypal sort of thing, but this was like a normal, everyday meeting of him, it all felt so literal, I felt the same as I often feel when I'm around many-storied buildings and blue pools—he felt physical! It disconcerted me, that he wasn't merely some symbolic aspect of me but was quite literally another person! In the flesh. What a concept! I hadn't thought much about it, and certainly hadn't thought about ever meeting him physically were that the case. I just stood there for a few moments, shocked.

He seemed to have been waiting for me. He nodded toward a wall, and I followed him and we continued going upward. We climbed, and climbed... he seemed to know where all the doorways were to be found. I thought, How can he see them?! But maybe he just knew where they were.

Finally it became more and more difficult to get up to the next floor. The manner of moving became creative if not bizarre, as if it were somehow designed that the likelihood of people like me getting up another floor was somewhere between slim and none. The blonde fellow knew what to do; like in one place, he grabbed a big rope-like thing hanging over the edge of a wall, and climbed up it until he was at the top. He was not only tall and strong, he was in fabulous shape, I thought rather admiringly, almost unusually physically adept. Then I thought, oh no, he wants me to do that?! And I began, but it was obvious I'm simply not strong enough for it, I'm in lousy shape.

I paused, thinking, Wait a minute. Isn't this a dream? Of course it feels real, they often do -- but it must be. Still, why would I be limited in a dream? But although I told myself it shouldn't matter, I seemed physical—my surroundings indicated an obvious dream, but I seemed fleshed, and felt it as well. He stood above me looking down over the wall at me, seeming fully disgusted with my complete lack of physical prowess, and since the wall wasn't very high, he was able to eventually grab my wrist and help me climb up by pulling me up. There were a few odd climbs and routes like this, and I got the feeling (again) that he was like my big brother or something; vaguely annoyed to have to be dragging me along, felt I was "less" than him, but not disliking me for it, just feeling that I was holding him back. I had the feeling he'd been "assigned" me, like older siblings get stuck with younger ones. Eventually—finally!—we got to this one floor that was different than all the rest. The games and noise and people and other things that had made me accustomed to a certain noise level on each floor were abruptly gone, and it was quiet.

Just inside the door there was some kind of food service place, and long tables and (sort of) benches. He talked to someone I couldn't see just around a corner of the food place, and came back with a bowl of something, which he sat down and began to eat. I sat down across from him and said, Aren't we supposed to go up? Or do you just want to eat first? He indicated that we couldn't go farther on our own, we needed to wait for somebody. So I sat there while he ate.

After a few minutes, I heard a noise and turned to see a man coming through, leading about six animals of some kind. I wondered why they would allow animals in a place that had food. They stopped near us, and the blonde-me got up and went over and talked to the man leading them. I looked at the animals, trying to make out what they were. They were way too small to be horses. They were simply bizarre. Finally as I stared at them, my mind went Aha! They're large mutant greyhounds, that's what! Pleased to have figured it out, I joined the men, and the other big guy indicated I should... well it was something like riding one of them, or standing between them, or some such thing. No, I said sadly, No way are they strong enough, it would hurt them. The guy waved his hand like I was an idiot, and the blonde-me said something to the effect that it didn't make any difference. So I found myself somehow riding on or between them, and the blonde-me walked beside the other fellow, talking with him, and our rather unusual pack animal train continued, gliding almost, through that room and another doorway.

I don't remember much after that, just a minor thing: we were somewhere very, very high (I felt), and the blonde-me said or thought at me, Your parents are on the [monitor]. The actual word he used is... nonexistent, I can't translate it except to say monitor or intercom or whatever. (I wonder if I speak another language somehow?) I went to this desk that was round and had something like a screen in it, at the time I seemed to recognize it. I pressed a few places and got a message from my father, whose voice said, Well we were here looking for you for some time, it's about midnight now, but we could only get to the third floor, and still no sight of you, so we're going to go on home now. I thought upon getting the message, Gee, I hadn't realized that dad was involved in weird dreams like this too. Then I shrugged, and went on with whatever I was doing.

Sandy dreams. They're so detailed! I mean so linear, like they're just a normal experience that I had, with the small detail that they're not in "this" reality anyway, and that some parts of them are "invisible" to me.

It was neat to meet one of the "four" in regular-person. So to speak. I really adore him.

One night I flipped through a book called The Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage, one of the books the Order folks had mentioned. I ignored the warnings—I had a hard time taking magick at all seriously—and drew one of the talisman-like squares from it, related to "invisibility." (Seemed harmless enough, compared to the other stuff.) Getting bored, I tossed the book aside and watched TV until bedtime.

{January, 1995}

"...but really," I found myself explaining to [him], "We do understand about things being more dimensional than ourselves." I told him the story of the Flatlanders, and how many people have used this as an example, guessing that "entities" such as himself were extra dimensional or some such thing; that perhaps we just weren't capable of seeing them. He listened patiently, I thought, but then said (in words? I'm not sure, but it translates to that), "You misunderstand. Extra dimensionality has nothing to do with why you don't usually see me. Here..." and he carefully "held me by the edges" and focussed me directly upon him.

"Come on," I said, laughing, understanding that he was "teaching me about invisibility" but not feeling I'd be up to performing it. "I bet I could balance a whole stack of Abramelin squares on my head and STILL not be invisible!" He seemed humored. "Look," he said, suddenly serious, "Look at me." And suddenly he was nowhere in sight. I looked around—where did he go?! But I could feel him there, somewhere, as if he were right in front of me. Again I felt him "holding me by the edges and focussing me," and my vision got smaller and smaller until it was just a molecular dot, a searing focus of dagger point, and then it extended vertically, as if I were seeing through this tiny crack in a barely opened door.

And finally I could see completely through it, and was "there" with him, with a feeling of new focus that reminded me of those 3-D pictures so popular of late. It wasn't as if I had to focus to get there... it was more like I had to unfocus and then allow my Will to work out refocusing my eyes where I wanted to see. It was as if any attempt to control my focus, to be in control, to insist on my own way of seeing it, doomed me to failure. Then when my brain sorted it out and the focus began coming into view, then I could take control again.

The key to seeing the invisible was not great effort, which in fact distracted me and made me attempt to focus on what I knew. And it wasn't focusing larger than my world; it was actually focusing smaller, specifically, like looking through a keyhole, and then when you finally got the vision through the keyhole you got closer to it until the vision filled your whole sight.

As for being invisible, he indicated that it had to do with changing your own perception, as if somehow your own perception affected "where you were" and affected other people's perception of you as a result. I wasn't completely clear on this; I was confused about how, for instance, you could pay attention to "here" and yet "not" at the same time, so that you could operate in the same place you were being invisible in. He took me through it, demonstrating how there were many levels of consciousness quite available to me even in normal waking life, and showing me how I already had it worked out; the "level of thinking" I've always called "my anchor" proved I'd been doing the multiple thinking all my life anyway, "anchoring" one level of thought while using the "surface layers" for activity.

It seemed clear when I was there, but when I awoke a short time later I didn't think I'd be able to do either—view, or hide—on my own.

{January, 1995}

I just remembered that last night I had a dream... and I was explaining at length to somebody about how Jesus and Martin Luther King, Jr. were a lot alike... that they both "had a dream" and lived on their inspiration more than their innate perfection... hilarious huh.

Funny how many things related to "blue" there are with me. For instance, in the early stages of all my experiences there was a dream about "Mary" and the "blue." Considering I don't think I even believe in Mary (or if I do nowadays, more metaphysically, I mean more likely as a multi-collection of consciousness working under that "concept," as opposed to a dead human), and I was not Catholic for that to be common symbolism, that's a bit odd. And then the so-called alien things, and the blue jello liquid stuff? And the blue injections in the kids? And I bet I've had a hundred dreams and experiences with a blue swimming pool in them. In fact, the pools are one of the most common symbols in everything, no matter what the symbology relates to. Sometimes I just see them, sometimes things come out of them, often I'm in one, and the thickness of the content can vary, but they're almost constant.

The dream where I met Archangel Michael (or I thought it was him), and I was underwater at first, and everything was slightly tinted blue. And Michael was blonde, blue eyed. Also like the other aspect of me. Also like the "blue eyes of faith" who is part of my soul. Or like the blonde, blue-eyed guy who tackled me with that oxygen mask thing, and other blonde, blue eyed gorgeous guys who nail me when I get lucid and try to get away. And then an early dream from some time ago telling me, Look for the ones with the blue eyes. Could this be related somehow? Not just all the blondes and blue eyes, but Mary and the blue, blue jello, blue tickets...? Something psychological I might be missing here? (Could the early dreams of being told that, and the color coded dream, have inspired this symbolism from that point on? Could having seen the craft as a child, near a blue pool, have inspired this?)

o0o

Looking back, some of the "normal" dreams make me wonder if I were afraid for myself.

{January, 1995}

It was a "normal" dream, but the symbolism's so odd I have to write it down. First I was taking a long time to put on shoes. Nice shoes, short boots, like designer hiking boots, lined. Then when I finally got them on, I realized they weren't actually the same as each other, not identical. I looked at my clothes and decided I looked alright, and me and a group of women went roller skating.

I got to the counter where you order your skate size, and they said, flat or round? And I figured out they meant the wheels, round like rollerblades or flat like normal skates. I said, what's the diff? And they said, well round you can do a lot of stuff, they're fast, and you can be turned any which way, but flat are more stable, and the round you need more muscle for. I said, well I haven't skated in ten years... but I was good when I did. Let me try the round ones. So they gave me the skates.

Just then a woman who was a walking bomb, like with dynamite strapped all around her, walked calmly past me and walked into the skating area to blow herself up. People began screaming and running for the doors. I ran for the doors, not so much to save myself as to be ahead of the mob so I wouldn't get trampled, since I was near the doors. I got outside and sure enough, she blew herself up and a good deal of the building with her; screams and the building crashing in exploded around me. I just sort of stood there outside, bored, and idly figuring this probably meant we wouldn't get to skate.

The "psi" symptoms continued, increasing in intensity until they were full-on visions and experiences that weren't just occasional -- they began to interfere with my daily life. Visions of doom recurred, getting more common all the time, and I was desperately glad to be leaving California. I thought perhaps the constant, various problems in the state were contributing to my psychology. It is true that since I left, I've had very little along this line of thinking. Perhaps I was just getting a bit neurotic about the subject. But it was quite disconcerting when visions occurred, even when they were the milder kinds.

{January, 1995}

The other day I was sitting in my car, midday in the sunshine, at this really large, spacious intersection, and had a brief piece of a vision. These are kinda weird and can happen two ways, where it's either "all you see" like you fall into a sudden incredibly vivid dream with full-tactile ability (so real it's like teleporting to the event), or, they can happen even though your eyes are wide open, and it's like an "overlay" of the scene in front of you, which you believe and understand clearly but know on some level is not "the" reality — but it takes a minute to realize that consciously, scares the crud out of you in the meantime. It's like two film projectors both shining on the same screen.

Anyway, this was an overlay. It was like there was an earthquake, and the ground in the intersection was like part of a thick line that bulged up swelled/bulged, and it was weird, it was like the asphalt actually stretched a little bit with it rather than just being hard and immediately breaking. And the bulges came and went, like varied for a minute, and to say my jaw was wide open would be an understatement, it's something you gotta see to believe! The impression was that there was a line going right there through the middle of the intersection, and that at some point the swelling bulging would break through the asphalt and then eventually there'd be like some small hill right there, like that was a break point or fault.

I was just beginning to physically react when I suddenly realized that none of the cars including mine were moving, and we should be, we should be feeling the reaction of something like that happening so close. Then I brought to the conscious level that it was just some kind of not-eye vision overlaying my regular vision. Damn it was real-ish tho! Anyway, so I shook my head and got on with things.

Then later in the day, I'm backing out of a parking space at the store, and before I have moved the car, I'm just getting ready to slide into reverse, the car to the left of me begins moving in a weird motion up and down, back and forth, and I realize it's shaking, we're having an earthquake... and then I realize that I'm not shaking, and it's just that overlap vision again. I shake my head, think humorously, "Women Drivers!" and forget it. Geez. These are so annoying,

{January, 1995}

The last week or so I've been having "serious" dreams every night, and I can't remember them even when I wake up in the middle of them, though I sometimes remember the mood and subject. I think I am literally dreaming the future, that's the impression I have. They are "deep" and "literal" somehow, I know that. Some of them, I know, are about... well, what some would call earth changes and even major changes planet wide. The funny thing is, I don't have any emotion about it, I mean it's not anything negative to me, it just "is" I guess. It's not as big a deal as it seems, and it's more gradual than everybody thinks, anyway.

{January, 1995}

Had a dream that two men dressed in black came around when we (a group of people and I) weren't looking, grabbed our kids, and tossed them into their car. I said, Somebody is stealing the children! I got their license plate number. It was 666 8998. Hahaha!

That sort of dream really made me laugh. Aleister Crowley, self-dubbed "The Beast 666" is of course reviled by anybody religious in a Christian sense. I wasn't sure if my psychology was trying to tell me that I'd gotten into something way over my head, or if I was merely venting out pieces of my conservative Baptist childhood.

{January, 1995}

The first section was all about my "energy;" somehow breathing was not the only cyclical thing I did, but it was as if there were dozens of things my "body" did (maybe below the conscious level or even below the physical), and I was trying to get them aligned, and noting that many of them were blocked, it was like if you were watching a whole group of waveforms and they were crashing into each other instead of moving harmoniously together. Anyway, so I got most of them aligned OK, and my breathing evened out.

The second section was about humanity, the same sort of thing as with the first dream, except it was on a larger scale; more items to "synchronize" and with the overall world, not just myself.

The third section was something related to the first two, but hard to describe. There was some acknowledgement of everything (energy) in the world feeding into this one eventual unit, kind of like a drain, the way the energy swirled around in a vortex before going into this one place/thing. But there was this sort of distraction, it was as if just above that layer of "going into one" understanding, there were four "units" which would be better called "collective energy with a representative identity" that everything flowed into according to its matching nature. I was repeatedly trying to get past the four and back to the one which I knew was the real source, and the whole point of things. I varied back and forth between the two perspectives of one or four.

Anyway, I don't really know what all this has to do with anything, except the four elements of nature seem the obvious symbolism here.

My psychology continued it's ambivalence about my growth, and what my involvement with all these subjects might be getting me into.

{February, 1995}

Last night I got 'stuck in a dream' about The Fly, of all things. I was in the modern remake of the movie. It kept repeating on the part where he tries to do something that expands his consciousness but he hasn't fully cleaned out the chamber and there's this fly in it... and the various integrations he does before the end, and how finally he becomes something so horrible he (the creature) pulls her gun toward himself, to have her kill him. I woke up around 4am, got up for awhile.

Woke up again around 10am, only to find that I was still dreaming about flies... but this was a "separate section," one of what I call "the chaos dreams." This time there was a rare bird that I wanted to give fruit, and a cupboard (like a lower kitchen cupboard) taped in red by the police, that contained some big knife that a man had used to kill someone (a woman), and a bunch of kittens (my favorite creature) simply covered with flies that I wanted to kill off without somehow hurting the kitties... and a large black bear, said to be harmless, in the background. Well never let it be said I don't use all available earthly components in dreams! That was a confusing collage.

Usually the "collage," the chaotic parts that sometimes end a dream, invariably contain some component that within a few months shows up on the news. In this case, I later assumed it was the O.J. Simpson trial, where basically, a famous man was accused of killing a woman with a knife or similar object. Now, I'm not saying that I dreamed it because it was 'real' indicating that anybody's guilty — what I'm thinking is that maybe the mass publicity of certain events filters into those chaotic dream-segments, as if I'm "descending down to earth" and going through the astral plane, picking up some of the dominant personal and cultural themes as I pass through. In other words, if public opinion had suspected the guy of swinging from a chandelier, I think I probably would have picked that up instead, even if he'd been nowhere near one. The imagery is perhaps my own; it is some sort of "translation" of a barrage of concepts and ideas.

Continue to Chapter 17


"Bewilderness" title and text are Copyright 1993-1998 by Palyne "PJ" Gaenir. All rights reserved. Feel welcome to send me email -- I always appreciate feedback.