Thursday, November 29, 2012


Man pointing to a description of "Animism" to his wife: Maybe that's why I like the old Ford so much?


  1. SATISH - When you meet Red Fox in 2014 remind him to go back and look at this one. It's a classic. ARTLEADS will like it too.

  2. The following is meant mostly for my own catharsis, and very little more. I share little of this with anybody. Certainly nobody I know; I found out not to do that the hard way a long time ago. After reading this through after writing it, I realize I have remained sort of vague about what exactly happened to me. It would take a short novel to include all the details. I’ll get better at this in the future maybe. I realize I’ve shared more of some of the conclusions I’ve come to as a result of pondering the experience, the ‘knowledge’ (?) I was left with. I may share specifics as time goes on here at kuku. I hope what follows isn’t filled with too many typos or too much bad grammar.

    To add some context to what I’ve shared in the main essay, I’ve made up a small bit of a forward in the first portion of the threads.

    1. The Foreward.

      My life was destined for metaphysics all along. Musician since I was a kid, gigging by fourteen, and not very steeped by society. I was the bastard child to parents who didn’t much care what I did. I was into the occult by my teens; onto John Seagull, Reluctant Messiah, Dan Millman, Casey, all of it by twenty, and living with a girl who had Crowley books all over the house beside her Shakespeare and oil paints. Then I got heavy into the whole Castaneda series, waiting eagerly for the last few to be published, quickly getting my hands on them so I could gobble them up and apply any new tricks I could learn from them. Don’t just read; ‘try’ and ‘apply.’

      At the Castaneda point, I was living on a beautiful mountain ranch over a known magnetic vortex, and was free to do what I wanted most days (the musician life.) Besides riding my horse and running with my dogs and critters, I had become very adept at messing with reality the way Don Juan had taught Carlos to do. Gait of power in the pitch of night running fast and naked through the dense forest … the thick bush ceasing to exist, where by day one would have poked their eyes out in a heartbeat, or not even found a path through the thick density. Playing music through sheer force of will much more than with skill. Dreaming up the coolest life I could imagine for myself; all sorts of tricks too numerous to mention.

      After the last book by Carlos I was sad, and put out an intention that I should have a teacher such as Carlo’s had found for himself. Almost immediately after that, I met a woman who’d travelled across the continent on a directive to come to my locale to find someone. She claimed I was the person she sought. We twisted time together and talked forever. We hung out for several years and I learned a lot. Then she just left me one day, poof.

      My life turned upside down shortly after that, this crashed, that crashed, and I walked out of my life one day, got into my hippy van and left for nowhere. Not much money, no food, no nothing; I just went sort of crazy. I took a bible and read the New Testament a bit everyday as I just drove nowhere in particular; into the mountains. On that strange trip, every page I read from the New Testament manifested and happened before my very eyes, I’m not kidding. It was messed up. I didn’t eat. Bushes burned. Lights went out for three days and then came back on. Strangers spoke words I’d read that morning to me at gas stations. A voice would come out of my mouth to tell me to leave places, only to find out years later from friends how people had been conspiring to have me locked up. I quoted the bible to anyone who would listen … Eureka, I’ve found it, I’ve found it! This lasted, I kid you not, for forty days.

      One cold snowy night, almost out of gas, freezing in the back of my van in a blizzard, I realized this was where I was going to meet my end. I accepted it. For some reason, I wanted to die all of a sudden, I was done. I knew not why, but I was screwed now, so why not. Fuck it. I fell asleep in the cold.

      I awoke again. Felt noticeably strange and quite confused. I got into the front of the van and drove down the night highway on fumes till I came upon a girl miles from anywhere walking with no coat and a short skirt in the fierce blizzard. I stopped. She offered me what was in her bank account if I would drive her to the next town where she lived. There was a lone tree on fire a short ways up the mountain, just blazing away through the now ending snowfall. I drove her, she gave me the money, and I drove straight though from B.C. Canada to Tacoma Washington where my shaman lady had left me an address to visit her if I ever got the chance. I pulled up to her house, got out, knocked on the door. She answered, looked me up and down (I hadn’t eaten much in months) and uttered this simple statement.

      “I see you got your switch.”

    2. The Essay.

      Satish, the only way I’ve ever been able to rationalize suffering is to consider it as being the opposite experience to bliss. I sometimes picture incarnation as an adventure to experience the alternative of bliss, although there are other things going on here too. You said you have looked into NDE experiences, and will no doubt recall how these people all convey sensing a perfect feeling of peace once they were outside of their earthbound experience. How could you appreciate that peace and bliss without ever knowing it’s opposite, suffering? Or consider that it could even possibly be about getting bored with the bliss after awhile, and being eager for this chance to suffer, the chance to be limited, the chance to lose control and be affected?

      “Ok, let me onto the scary ride for awhile, just for a change of scenery, just to play.”

      How weird is that thought?

      We seem, at least to some degree, to incarnate here to experience suffering, limitation, and loss. Even a good life suffers. It grows older, slower, losing our youth, strength, and good looks. We watch our better years slip away into frailty and inability. We watch death slowly come for us. This life seems to be about suffering, maybe for no other reason than to just get out of the bliss for awhile. Doesn’t the Dali Lama say life is suffering? Embrace the suffering? Even he is an exile from his home he loves. He suffers.

      However, there is more to it than that too. The meaning of life seems to unfold like the layers of a never ending onion. I think it’s too vast for a mortal mind to hold a clear picture of it. Even when you get a glimpse of the big picture, you can’t hold onto it, it’s just too vast a concept to hold in your mind in this reality frame. Like trying to experience multiple possibilities all simultaneously, yet all are the same identical thing all at the same time. It verges on nonsense to the mortal mind, just chaos.

      Ever since my NDE, which I guess some people would call a walk in, I’ve tried to map out several layers of purpose behind all this living stuff. Maybe that’s why I get frustrated with mono idea thinkers looking for just one truth in everything, like the scientists try to do. Sometimes there are several simultaneously. Most times probably. It’s all so much more a layered and multidimensional sort of thing, with many purposes wrapped up in a single expression, like those layers of an onion.

      We’re not just here to suffer, we’re here to try and remember too, and to try and see if we can ground that higher consciousness here onto earth; to see if we can get ‘there’ and remain ‘here’ simultaneously. That’s probably why every human has an inkling of the spiritual that eats at them, unless we completely block it out entirely with a self lobotomy, which all inexperienced incarnates seem to do. And yet that is also part of the onion.

    3. There always was that option to elevate ourselves to being spiritual beings who are co creating positively on this plane, and I believe that has actually happened here before. However, nobody seems to ever choose that these days, except maybe some indigenous tribes in some ways. Just try and convince Lidia of what she doesn’t know. You can’t. You’d have to kill her and bring her back to life for her to see life like that, she’s steeped and convinced. Yet some of us sense it, and do go that route. Some even get there, but it’s lonely. But that’s just an experience too, part of the onion.

      That’s the route I’d gone in my life before they replaced me. Then one day it was like, ok, you figured it out, you’re done. Medium rare and ready to go, get him out of the oven. I was so confused. What? Just part of the onion, apparently. I was so sad to leave too, bummed, even though my whole short life had been spent exactly trying to get out by raising my consciousness. Then, I suddenly didn’t want to go, and I had to. There’s a paradox for you. Wait, I wanted this, wait, no I didn’t, did I? Maybe I don’t want this anymore. Tough, pack your things, you’re done, you signed a contract. This regret didn’t come until after getting switched, but by then it was too late. It was done.

      This new guy is a meathead too, by the way. Not nearly as adept as that other guy was. I still remember both you know, this soul and that one. There is a biological component involved in all of this after all, one with memories, a few anyway. That other guy figured it out by the time he was twenty seven. Then he suddenly wished he hadn’t cracked the code. I didn’t even get to enjoy being omnipotent, only just a few years of fun as I approached it. But hey, this new guy is much better at suffering, so … he gets to stay. With what he’s knows, he even manufactures suffering for himself all the time like an idiot. He’s a down right whiner too sometimes. All in all a very good earthling; so he gets to stay.

      I got to see something else weird too; that this had all been mapped out by me, for me, before hand anyway. At least the potential for it had, with a few key experiences set up along the way to guide me, to set me up to make certain choices; like synchronicities. Wait, how the heck does that all work? You mean it wasn’t free will? Yes it was, sort of, the choices along the way were free will, yet at the same time they almost weren’t; this was all unfolding just as an experience that I’d set myself up to potentially have, and one you can’t even really fail at, even when you think you’ve failed at it.

      Is that creating the illusion of free will?

      Layers of the onion, just layers of the onion. Too vast for a mere mortal mind to hold a picture of I believe, even for the Dali Lama I think. I don’t think Jesus even saw the whole big picture. He was a pretty reluctant messiah, you know. “Get up off your knees, I am NOT an idol, or some superstitious god of the dead, I am a god of the LIVING!” “These things I do, you can do too … you silly fools!” “Go to Tibet, they’ll show you.” “Dammit people, come on!” “Oh forget it, I’m getting drunk, you silly people.” “Fuck it!”

    4. I hesitate to share these sorts of things, really, because only personally seeing it for yourself ever makes this ‘real’ for anybody anyway, and it can otherwise be an offensive thing to hear someone talk about it. But, how would it change your perspective on suffering if you knew for certain that it was no more than an almost meaningless game? Like a distraction, like a night out at the movies? And yet it’s a little bit more than that too, all at the same time. I’ll tell you, I came back not with less respect for life, but instead with profoundly more respect for life. Moved to tears by it in fact. I wept for a full year almost after being replaced, and still do sometimes. Life sure is a trip. And then we have to watch Donald Trump. Just layers of the onion, some we wouldn’t even want to cook with at all.

      I remind you that my stories and ten cents will get you ten cents. They often don’t even make any sense to me when I hear them. The world on the head of a pin, like looking through a fog sometimes, and I was even there once. Ten cents, that’s what my words are worth, ten cents. Nothing matches the experiencing of it.

      But I sure do wish people would forget the struggles and work on improving their consciousnesses. This world holds the potential to be such a different place. I’m really not sure what we’re headed for on our current path, although I’m not torn apart by it either. Ok, it makes me angry sometimes, I’ll admit it. But people don’t really have to be suffering; at least I don’t think that, or animals, or forests. That’s where I get confused a bit myself too, by the roads we didn’t take in relation to the other layers of the onion that indicate there was maybe no other road to even take but this. See, it’s multidimensional … too much for my wee mind to hold now, even though it all made so much sense to me at one moment in my life when I saw it all unfolded, and for a short while after. However, you’re not allowed to keep that clarity, or maybe you just physically can’t here. Or maybe a bit of both.

      How do you describe every possibility contained in one single point in space? You can’t. It becomes gibberish. Which is why Lidia laughs at me. And then I suffer. Explaining it often brings up glaring contradictions. Don Juan always contradicted himself. It drove Carlos crazy, and so did Jesus. And supposedly it’s all good. Layer of the onion. So we say fuck it. And yet it goes on.

      My stories and ten cents get you ten cents. The movie “Contact” was not about aliens, it was a parable … “I had no idea.” No idea it was just a big garden vegetable, an onion in fact. The big cosmic, multidimensional onion. And I’d still save every murre if it was within my abilities. Heck, I can’t even seem to save myself these days, how am I supposed to save the murres. But I would if I could. I can’t stand to see the suffering. See what a paradox it all is? And how real it feels?

      Ten cents I tell ya, ten cents. I sometimes wish I was that other guy still. He was way cooler than this one is. But a job is a job is a job. Right?

      Peace and Love.