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Links you might like: Firedocs RV (Remote Viewing Info) - TKR MBC (Remote Viewing Discussion) - TKR Galleries (Hands-On Remote Viewing practice for all levels) - Joseph McMoneagle's RV Page - CSL for RV Science - Charles Tart's Virtual Library - Exceptional Human Experience Network - Joseph Felser - Alan Elms - Russell Targ - Palyne Gaenir


BEWILDERNESS by Palyne Gaenir
DojoPsi Mirror: dojopsi.com/bewilderness/
Firedocs Mirror: firedocs.com/bewilderness/
Contact Author (PJ)
Copyright © 1993-2005. All rights reserved.

CHAPTER XVII.

"It's all a great huge game of chess that's being played -- all over the world -- if this is the world at all, you know... I wouldn't mind being a Pawn, if only I might join -- though of course I should like to be a Queen, best."

Lewis Carroll           
Through the Looking Glass   
       


{March, 1995}

Crowley had realized something... there was some kind of disease? Or strange situation? Maybe not physical, maybe psychological or spiritual, which mankind was going to bring on themselves unknowingly, that could or would wipe us out, or at least be very bad. It was a huge kind of doom, something that affected our entire species and our future, and something that we were walking right into blindly. I felt we haven't yet brought it on ourselves, but it's still a potential, growing stronger all the time. But he had seen it too late, when he was too old, when he was dying; he was too weak to get somewhere to tell somebody who could help.

I tried to help him get to some place to explain it to someone, some high-level magician he thought could initiate something toward averting it or fighting it, but he was so tired, and he kept falling into pieces, physical pieces, he was just old and exhausted and in some kind of weakened condition. I kept picking up his pieces and trying to hold him together so that between us we could get to this guy and warn him. I wanted to help him, as much for him as the goal itself, but there was no point I finally began to feel, and he was about to expire so it wasn't like it threatened him personally anyway.

o0o

Groups of us, people, are standing in lines kind of like troops, but dressed normally, somewhere in the desert. To the front of us, nothing was there, just sand as far as the eye could see. And then a giant gold Egyptian man arises from the dust. He's huge! -- like 50 feet tall, looks like a gold statue, but he's alive. He points his finger at us, and on this row of people to the far right creeps this blackness, it's like a shadow or tar or something but seems more part of the skin itself. At first I thought it would kill the people, but it didn't, it just coated them, and I leaned away, but the blackness spread to all of us.

Somehow I knew that it made us like these smaller animals [which now, awake, I'd call bats]. The blackness that is now part of us makes us want to live at night, seek the darkness, sleep in trees, eat fruit... it will make us need inconvenient things, things that are separate from our normal culture. I and a small group of people finally leave, and I crawl into a tree to sleep, since that seems appropriate (if inconvenient, considering my form), but as I do I tell the people below me, This'll never work. People (normal people and the government) will see us and they'll shoot us, they'll think we're horrible and gross or something, maybe we can sleep normally but stay out of sight, let's see what we can work out.

In looking for a better place to sleep I found this huge gem, it was orange and cut in a pear cut, about the size of my hand, and for some reason I felt like I should eat it, as if it were a fruit, but I resisted the compulsion, aware of how dangerous it would be.

I realize suddenly there is a connection: Aleister's physical weakness seems somehow related to this blackness, even though he didn't show any sign of having it on him. I didn't know if the blackness was weakening, or merely that his response to it weakened him, or that it was to help cure the weakening -- I couldn't tell. I wasn't sure if maybe others couldn't see it on us, either... it didn't seem like something that could be washed off, it seems like it just changes the skin itself, yet it wasn't visible. I don't know if it's good or bad or just "is." I'm not sure why the huge gold Egyptian guy put it on us, or how to get rid of it, or if I should.

I was upset about the above dream. Blackness? Did that indicate something bad? On the other hand, it could also represent alchemical symbolism. I've had quite a number of experiences -- only the one above did I write down -- where I met "Egyptian Men" who basically looked like 50' tall solid gold but living statues.

The link with "metaphysics" and consciousness in general continued to keep me from being able to put my experiences, and therefore my conclusions, into any one category.

{Letter, March, 1995}

<<My current model pretty much matches yours.>>

Oh! I wish I knew what my current model is. I only go on about the "self created" bit because I feel obliged to be the tiniest bit objective -- not like there's much room in this field, when it's happening to you, to be objective I take what few opportunities I have.

Evolution has been slow lately, actually. My dreams are usually bizarre, the only keynote is that most nights there is some "specific" identity referenced, I mean someone in the real world. This morning it was Crowley and the number 22 (?); yesterday it was Bill Clinton on a train with Secret Service men... it sounds more interesting than it is, really.

{March, 1995}

There was this large human sized maze, and many people including me were walking through it, we were all at various places. At this one point, the wall in front of me either came to a dead end or just suddenly appeared to block my way. Walking back the way I came, "covers" like roofs came down over sections of the hallway turning those areas completely dark, and I backed away from them, until I was back by the end, where there was still light. There was a man there who'd had a wall close off behind him so he couldn't go back, so he'd been coming forward when the roofs came down, and there was the specific feeling that somebody intelligent was actually playing us like rats, and was specifically experimenting on us in some way.

He was in the dark, and saw me up ahead in the light, so he ran toward me. The man and I ended up stuck in this little one room type lighted space, and then I noticed there was some furniture there, including a bed, but the bed was narrow and hard and elevated, like a doctor's table. I sat down on it next to the man and thought to myself, They're waiting to see if the stress and being trapped together here makes him and I end up in bed, they just want us to have sex and bond together. I had the feeling he suspected this too.

I wondered if that could be related to some of the stories contactees tell about sexuality and abduction... but I decided it was a just a dream. In this case, I had finally read a book (Stephen Jacob's "Secret Life") about abduction, and so tend to feel I skewed my objectivity on the subject, as I may have picked up the ideas from his accounts. That made me angry! That's the main reason (in addition to denial) that I refused to read anything in the general UFO type fields for so long even after I guessed my life was related -- I didn't want to influence my own experiences. Now I can't be sure whether the experience is a result of my expectations and interpretations based on reading about such things, or if reading about it simply made it "logical and acceptable" in my conscious mind, so I was more able to remember it.

In any case, now I'm forced to doubt my own experience, my own dreams and my own insights, if they are in any way related to something I've read. It would hardly be logical to not take that into account. But the end result is that I've simply invalidated myself, and I've taken the only data I have to work with and disallowed it. It's upsetting. If I can't trust myself, at least at face value, how can I make sense of any of this? I mean here we have what seems to be a mostly subjective experience: it makes no sense for me to tell myself, "Your opinion, and your memory of the experience, doesn't count." It's insulting, and without those fragile fragments of information, I have nothing to work with at all.

{March, 1995}

Had a dream night before last that I "realized" I simply "had to have" one of these light/sound machines I've heard talked about now and then. Finally I agreed there was something my mind needed to explain to me and OK, I had to have one of these machines. So in the dream I was at this counter at a store trying to buy one, and the guy was saying, "That'll be $100." And I said, "No that isn't the one I want, the one I want costs about $300." (This was repeated like it was the message of the dream.) Just wait until Coca Cola and McDonald's get their version of astral advertising down... haha!

{March, 1995}

Time. Alternate "times" as much as alternate realities. Bizarre. I had about half a dozen scenarios last night that I had to "fix": I'd be in 'sequence A' for so long, and then 'sequence B', and then I'd realize that I needed to find a way to alter things to insure sequence B did not happen for me.

My identity was "mine" but my body was only the same in a couple. In one I was a tall girl-child with sandy, curly hair who became an orphan in sequence B, with startling end results; in one the whole world became this darkened (literally) place of fear; I don't remember the others.

I just remembered that one of the "download" incidents I had was with a female with short, curly, sandy hair, very tall.... interesting. Maybe it was her memory? I had the feeling she was giving me a certain "range" of her memory and abilities, affected by both time and concept. Interesting. If so it would be the first thing I've noticed related to that.

One of the frustrating things about sharing one's experiences is that one is eventually led to wonder if their stories are "less correct" than other people's stories. How do I know whether my denial of certain areas is preventing proper memory? Should I just take everybody else's word for it on "how things really are?"

{Letter, March, 1995}

I bought Mack's book (again) because his credentials impressed me but haven't read it yet; I seem to have lost it, for the second time. Gee, what a surprise. I've lost every book I've finally bought to read anywhere related to the "UFO" subject except one. I can't decide if they're vanishing like other things (which appear in impossible places, or vanish right in front of me), or if I'm just in such denial I won't deal with it. It's hard enough to buy anything to begin with; then when I do, they disappear.

I just read Jacobs' book Secret Life because JR said I should read it, and because the title drew me, reminding me of my own life; I'm sure the only reason I got away with reading it is because I began it after leaving the store. (Sat there in the car and read it in the parking lot. I have the feeling if I'd taken it home and put it somewhere, it would have disappeared like all the other books in this genre have.) The bad news is, not all things that the book describes are exact in 'what' they are, I mean it confuses me, and I don't know where to draw the line at my own or his interpretation, and to this day the concept of "abduction" represents something way outside of how I feel about all this.

The guy is so bloody negative. You'd think everybody was a "victim."

I mean... if I remember something like little creatures... babies with teeny necks, the size of the palm of my hand, I don't assume I've been in a maternity ward. I only take what I get in memory at face value: a plate with baby somethings. Should I assume? Maybe they were food! How can I assume? Doesn't that rest on the idea that I already know what's going on? Do I really? Does anybody really?

If there are six components of an experience, one of which is unclear to me, and someone relates an experience with seven components, five that match mine and another that could, should I "assume" that the "uncertain" component in mine is what they say it was? Or that the other component is just something I missed but was really there? How do I know their personal interpretation didn't help "create" that component for them? Can I assume that because they saw it, they're right?

<<Unfortunately there are people like P. for example who have had genuine experiences that seem to fit the abduction model without being... the typical too good to be true case that gets promoted by the usual hucksters.>>

Hmmmn. I wonder if they believe them -- I assume so. I consider my own experiences valid; and yet, they're on something of a sliding scale. Encountering a physical "UFO" at close range at age 8, with a friend, whom I saw years later and confirmed it, is on the high end of the scale, excepting my youth which definitely helps me doubt it, especially as I'm pretty skeptical about memories.

(By the way, I just drove through that neighborhood the other night where I lived when I was 8, and stopped and looked over the area where it happened. I was really surprised to find that I was closer than I realized to the craft, based on memory and assumption of the size of the area. Now that I'm bigger in relationship I guess, I see in fact the area is smaller than I realized, and I was right damn next to the thing, which explains some of the rather, um, severe awareness of it.)

When I'm wide awake and time jumps, reality shifts or non physical entities talk with me, I grant this a 7 to 8 on the believability scale, because I'm awake; if I'm asleep it has to lose a bunch of points; intangibles, and "superimposed visions" like the ones I described while driving get a very low rating, they're a daily curiosity of fun. Nothing is ever a 9 or 10 since that would infer I'm sane and it's proven, and I haven't ruled out the possibility that I'm not and it can't be.

{March, 1995}

I had a dream that seemed to last all night, about "2 in 8" and "8 in 2" and why they were the Same (and Not [as in Nuit]) and for some reason I was wearing a dark red robe and wandered in and out of rituals held by magickian type people (mostly in dark red robes), all of whom I didn't know, very odd... the grafting of 8 onto 2 was incredibly powerful, like it was some cosmic lesson, and I had the specific sense that I had been initiated into both levels simultaneously, as if they were somehow reflections of each other. (This doesn't work though... those two degrees are not the ones associated together in the OTO.) I'm proud though -- my first magick related dream! ha!

The end result is sort of a feeling of... belonging? With the group involved that I haven't had before. As if I really did participate in many rituals on some level and bonded with tons of people whom I don't even know. But also a feeling of... now understanding (again not consciously, but on some level) the "framework" of all this, and some of the meanings behind the symbolism.

Today for the first time I have the feeling that I am emotionally bonded to the group overall; not simply because I gave my word and honor but because I've somehow merged/ consumed/ shared/ bonded with both the literal and symbolic aspects of both the framework of the Order and the people in it. As if it is no longer something that I am affiliated with by vow, but rather IS me, as if it were possible that the conceptual energy of all of it merged with me like an archetype. Like any given lodge could be found in the atomic energy of one of my arms or something, I mean not just etherically but physically integrated. I hope I am making some sense.

The dream made me feel as if I have accepted something major, almost as if I have made some tremendous commitment that has an equal commitment/ relationship with me, and it's to something way bigger than me or what I currently know as "me;" not the Order, not the people, not the degrees (those are included, but as very small components) but to some larger, more overriding energy, like maybe the overall purpose behind the Order, behind everything. It's vast.

{April 1995}

I've had two and eight so mixed up in my brain as a result of that dream that I sat at terminal 2 wondering why my plane wasn't arriving (at terminal 8, sigh) and half a dozen other things I've messed up the last week because my eyes see one number and my brain thinks another. Great. In the search for enlightenment, I've found dyslexia! And repeating elements, like I went to pick up L. at the airport and realized I'd parked on level 8, row 2, and it was marked by red. Lots of little coincidences like that.

{April 1995}

Since the 2/8 dream, I've been dreaming of numbers. Tons of numbers! It's almost as if the whole language is in numbers. There are so many addressed sometimes in one dream I can't begin to keep track of them. Must be 'cause of the wedding ceremony, that inspired the latest one... I caught and held onto it for dear life, it translated to something like, "The {something} constraining and restricting [you] that you both will need to deal with are {15}. Also, to a lesser extent, {51.}"

{April, 1995}

The number dreams continue. They're everywhere! Unfortunately I have no idea what to make of any number, let alone the complete shower of them that keep falling on me.

{April, 1995}

There were these pools.... a land of pools, numerous fairly large blue pools, interesting and all different shapes, the pools like people have in their backyard. Then it turned out I was fooled about their true nature -- they weren't in the ground at all, but in fact, it was merely that the ground had been dug up and these large blue plastic pools had been set down into the ground. They weren't the permanent cement kind. And now they were all above ground, turned sideways and empty, next to the pool-shaped holes where they had been. There was a final pool, a round pool, which I liked, deeper than most, but the ground hadn't been dug for it yet. I was wishing someone would get around to doing it and was ready to offer to do it myself. I wondered if there was a reason it wasn't done yet.

There was a man; a tall thin man, older than me, fair but wispy hair, thinning to almost vanishing, intelligent to the point of being slightly scary; a bit quiet, which only unnerved me more. I didn't feel I had physically met him before, but I had some connection to him, as if he were a teacher, sort of. I accepted him as my leader (don't know why, I just did). He had some fairly "master plan" but I wasn't sure what it was, and wasn't sure how I'd feel about it if I knew (like it might not be what I'd consider good or something).

He did some odd things. I said nothing; I was confused, like I 90% knew what was going on and the other 10% was a dream. And there was this authority thing he had over me that I didn't question and in some way was so very drawn to.

As time went on, he kept showing up to 'see how I was doing.' He wasn't satisfied with me, had these various complaints, like I wasn't working on magick enough, my health and physical shape needed serious improvement, I wasn't mature enough here or there, I 'wasn't ready for him' was the feeling, and yet he still kept getting closer every time we met; as if he were drawn to me and wanted me to be equal to him already (and there was some lesser energy of the idea that as my leader he was obliged to improve me anyway so I'd be useful for something).

Eventually, in passing, he would just kiss me deeply, intensely, and then walk away, leaving me trembling and frustrated, and wanting to do whatever it would be to make me ok with him... even though he still unnerved me, and I wasn't entirely sure he'd be considered a "good guy," even though he seemed to be on my team, so to speak. I felt ambivalent and confused.

There was a small group of people who classified as leaders I suppose, or some such thing. They took their place at the front of a group on an outdoor stage; the thin man was invisible standing just behind them. He seemed to know them and I thought might be leader of them too (the group onstage) as well as me. There were lots of people in the crowd facing the stage. A group of four people came up to the stage, and did a step and sign in unison toward them, looking like a small drill team, and finished it with a slight bow (more like a deep nod, japanese-style) to the group. The team apparently asked some question and got an answer. Different groups of people went up and did this in varying number and form. I wanted to go up there, but I had no question, and I was alone, and wasn't sure if a deep bow would cover it, or if I needed some other, more secret step & sign.

Before I could wonder much longer, the groups all disbursed, milling around like a big social event. I was standing there a bit blankly, wondering what I should do next. The thin man showed up as I stood there lost; suddenly pulled me against him and kissed me so hard, so deeply, until my whole body shook, until I was physically trembling with blind desire -- and then he released me abruptly and just walked away.

Blankly, somewhat stunned, I wandered aimlessly back to find the pools, wondering again if I should forget waiting for whoever was supposed to install that deep round pool and just find a shovel and dig it out (a serious job) myself. Then I woke up. Frustrated that I'd lost my connection with the tall thin man and feeling vaguely lonely without him.

Having such a dream, while on my honeymoon no less, is kinda weird.

Later, someone who knows told me that the description could fit the 'secret leader' of my magickal Order, which would work with the context as well. When I thought back over the dream, that seemed to make it make sense, except... except I can't imagine why I'd dream about him. How would I know what he's like, anyway? I decided it was just dream-character coincidence. The vague but clear sense that he might not be a "good guy" or that he might have some 'grand plan' I wouldn't like didn't improve my already ambivalent feelings about my "evolution."

As it turns out, dreams that included him ("the tall thin man") became a recurring theme with me. They are similar; I am ambivalent between wary distrust of him and his "grand plan," yet with an absolute acceptance of him as my leader; I am weak to his sensual, quiet-control approach and have this odd desire to almost worship him physically. I still don't understand them. It's rather embarrassing frankly.

Around this time in my life, I had left my job in California, had traveled a bit, and was living in the Northwest with friends. About 98% of all the "weird stuff" that had been going on in my life for the two years previous vanished. It was as if leaving Southern California had just ended most of it. From that point on, my experiences were fewer and farther between.

{May, 1995}

I am viewing a place, there is a tremendously large, perfect lawn there, and I finally decide, due to an ornamented short wall with some symbols, that I'm at some kind of military place. I can't even see a regular building, the lawn is so vast, just the various symbols on the short stone monument that seems to title the place, but without words, and I'm not exactly sure what they are as a result.

I'm driving slowly past it in my car, and I note that here and there, there is something that seems like maybe it's a grave. Like maybe of somebody really important, who was buried at the front of this place with full honors? I continue driving, and I eventually have a choice between taking a left or right at a fork in the road. To the right seems to be the main road. The left is a smaller road, and it only seems to go one way: up.

I have the feeling that somebody is calling me, over to the left, so I take the left. It wends around and begins up a fairly steep hill. To each side of the road is grass, flowers, fountains, creeks, and beautiful small carved headstones and monuments; although I've never seen a graveyard on anything but flat ground, this appears to be one set on a hill. It's so beautiful it's breathtaking, and it's a gorgeous sunny day with birds singing, and I have my windows open and I can smell the fresh air, and the grass and water and such, and it makes me very happy to be in such a beautiful place, I feel completely at peace.

I realize that near the top of the hill and around a bit to the right, there's a guy who wants to talk with me. He's dead of course, or rather, his body is, but he's alive, and for some reason I have to come to him, he can't come to me. So I continue driving up the hill, happy merely to be alive in such beauty -- and then I woke up, pulling in from far away, as external noise bothered me.

Ghosts and entities -- why can't I be like normal people and just have dreams of being naked in public or something? I don't know who the man was, but I had the impression that he had been somebody working for the military or some such thing, and that he had been doing something important and rather unusual, something mental? when he died, and he wanted to talk to me about the situation, and about me somehow. (Odd. Why would I dream about the military?)

{May, 1995}

I think I'm getting paranoid. I'm beginning to get the feeling that somebody's following me. Watching me. Like just out of the corner of my eye there seems to be someone... for instance, walking through a grocery store late at night, I'm constantly feeling as if somebody is following me, and I'm turning but there's nobody there, or nobody guilty of such a thing, anyway. It's as if they would disappear around a corner, and I'd dash around it but nobody would be there. At home I can ignore the feeling more easily; I feel safer, I know I'm alone in the house, and it's smaller. It's not a mental belief -- it's an actual kinesthetic sense that someone is there.

But in public places, especially where there's a lot of open space, it's more difficult. (Agoraphobia?) It's not that I suspect anybody or anything of following me. How completely illogical, why would anybody? It's that I have the "sense" that somebody is watching me, following me, and it gets stronger all the time. It's like a physical sense. What would be causing such a symptom?

Later in this account I tell of recurring dreams that began just around this time. I don't know if it was the "military" dream that inspired them, or the onset of the above, or the fact that I had just begun collecting all this journalizing. I think I must have wandered into some "paranoia" aspect of psychology. I still don't understand that part of things. I'm generally the least paranoid person I know, at least about military-related things.

Links you might like: Firedocs RV (Remote Viewing Info) - TKR MBC (Remote Viewing Discussion) - TKR Galleries (Hands-On Remote Viewing practice for all levels) - Joseph McMoneagle's RV Page - CSL for RV Science - Charles Tart's Virtual Library - Exceptional Human Experience Network - Joseph Felser - Alan Elms - Russell Targ - Palyne Gaenir


BEWILDERNESS by Palyne Gaenir
DojoPsi Mirror: dojopsi.com/bewilderness/
Firedocs Mirror: firedocs.com/bewilderness/
Contact Author (PJ)
Copyright © 1993-2005. All rights reserved.
 
Table of Contents
 Bewilderness.com
Firedocs.com

Palyne.com

DojoPsi.com