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UNWORLDING...the art form formerly known as "out of body experience," "astral travel," "lucid dreaming," "phasing," "the quick switch," etc.

UNWORLDING MILESTONE JOURNAL by W. H. Early

CHAPTER SIX: EXTENDED LUCIDITY AND PLAN OF ACTION

2016-08-25

We do not experience the world, but mental models of the world.

      --Stephen LaBerge

2016-08-25 2:10 am

[Meditation.]

2:50 am

[Back to sleep in dream bed, wearing blackout mask.]

8:20 am

[Just realized that portals can reincarnate; awareness can't because it can't be split up. So our identity reincarnates but it's optional. Have to work out the details. Also, the portal doesn't begin at birth and end at death. Lives can be lived anywhere, a life on earth is only one kind of sojourn.]

3:25 pm

[Meditation on terrace.]

4:15-4:50 pm

[Shamanic drums/waterfall sounds, in chair with mask. Intention is to meet a group of guides. Once relaxed and before anything else, I talked to guides about what I want in my life and practice. I don't remember exactly what I said but kept talking as long as possible so they and I would know I am serious about this journey. Except I recall saying that I craved the ability to completely forget about the attacks so I could do my breathwalking on the road at night without being afraid. Mind and body both slept a lot. At one point while not asleep, I saw a beautiful top-of-mountain, slow moving channel of water, very slow and full to the brim, which led to the jump-off point at the edge of a very high cliff looking down into a very deep gorge. I jumped off, which ended the vision.]

[In spite of physical discomfort in an unsuitable chair, I had no trouble sleeping in the chair, dripping with sweat. Will breathwalk later.]

6:00 pm

[I feel unusually alive and balanced right now. I don't know why. I enjoyed the meditation earlier. There are flowering bushes and lots of pitsay (a type of cabbage) on the terrace now, and seeing it made me feel appreciative. The shamanic session, though completely uneventful, was so smooth and soft. The one vision I had was on high, charged with beauty, a majestic feeling.Then when I started reading I put on some meditation music I often use when reading, and this song "Ek Ong Kaar" by Snatum Kaur really sent me, it was so exquisite, every note was perfect, I never wanted it to end. This mood was all spontaneous, unplanned, and surprising. I'm glad I started meditating again. I've been trying to figure out what my earlier practice (pre-attacks) had that my later practice didn't, and meditation is it. While reading, the words I was reading were like pieces of candy, each one important, unique, and meaningful. I'm not forcing this mood, it was not expected. I hate moodwatching and trying to be happy, because it's what killed my original soul retrieval effort 20 years ago. I will now go breathwalking since it's getting dark. Also did a lot of breathing at the farm today.]

<7:30 pm

[This is about my breathwalking earlier, while it was getting dark. My goal was to walk and breathe, and not to think about the attack. This is only my second attempt to do breathwalking since the attacks. Main reason it's scary is that after his first threat and before his first attack, Neyong did follow me to the road one night and stood there boring holes in my back with his eyes. He might have kept following me, if not for JunJun standing there talking to him. He'd threatened me with a knife one or two nights earlier, the first time I suggested the internetan should close at 10 pm. I had to turn around and go back to see if it was really him, then when I got to them, in case he wondered why I was staring at him, I said in bad Visayan, "I can't see in the dark." The next night, I said the same thing to his son because I was afraid of accidentally insulting his son too, and was afraid he thought I might be staring at him when I was just trying to see who it was in the dark. The son took this as an insult for god knows what reason--?because my Visayan was garbled?--muttered disrespectful things that made me angry, and ran in the house. I tried to follow him in so I could finish my sentence, and that's when I was attacked the first time, by his father. Anyway, the purpose of this background information is to show why I am afraid, why I stopped breathwalking every night, which is what I was doing when I had my first OBEs a few months ago. I do it in the dark because it's not hot, and people can't see how hard and fast I'm breathing from a distance. I'm self-conscious about breathing this way, and being white, I'm already gossip fodder as it is.]

[Back to this current time, I wanted to do my breathwalking and not get scared or angry. But after reaching the end of the route and turning around to come home, where I planned to turn around and go back out again... when I was nearly home, three young men came out of Neyong's area. I didn't think anything of it, just turned around and headed back away from the house as I'd been planning to do. But in a few seconds I saw a big stick on the ground and made a lot of fuss to stop and pull it off of a larger trunk. I was led to do this, I didn't want or need a weapon; if someone was after me, I needed to go home. So I was going to head for home, but the three young men were gone. So I put the big stick down, turned away from home again, and started walking.]

[But when I glanced over my shoulder, the three shadowy figures were coming my way again. So I picked up the stick again. And they turned around and walked back toward Neyong's area. This was way too weird, so I went home scared. My wife was out in front and when I told her about it, I expected her to poo-poo the whole thing, but instead she told my little buddy GongGong, who is ten years old, to accompany me on my walk. So he walked with me, back and forth, till I finally got hungry and went home. At first I was shy to do my breathing, but after I explained it was just a way of exercising, I kept on breathing hard and fast and walking at a medium pace.]

[I asked GongGong if he had a lot of friends and was happy, and he said yes. As a very small child he had been typecast as a weirdo and a misfit, the other kids always made fun of him without mercy and without reason. But one day I told my son to be nice to him, and when my son accepted him into the group, the other kids did too. Then he stopped acting weird and playing alone, and now he is just like the others, one of the crowd.]

[This was another shamanic journey in the physical body. It was about facing fear and turning a weapon into a walking stick and enjoying the way it feels in your hand instead of thinking about maybe having to use it against an attacker. The goal is to stop thinking about attacks so I can enjoy my life again and not be angry and scared. I might take it with me tonight also.]

8:05 pm

[Was going to go to sleep sitting up, but it seemed wrong, so I lay down in my normal sleep position on my side. Gotta take the indirect method and other MR teachings seriously.]

2016-08-26 3:00 am

[Meditation outside on terrace. Using the word "dream" as a mantra from time to time but not continuously.]

3:30 am

[Back to sleep in the dream bed with mask. Intention is to OBE and carry out my plan of action, starting with the red chair, etc. In dreams, my intention is to meet my various dream bodies or guides, shake hands, look them in the eye, introduce myself, ask about the work. Went to sleep quickly using "dream" mantra.]

5:00 am

"Stumped-No-More and the Glance of Grace"

[My whole body is buzzing, chills are going up and down my spine, I'm vibrating, wiping tears of joy out of my eyes. This has been a long time coming. Here's what happened:]

I'm playing ball with Taran [SC] in the next door neighbor's front lawn, Salina, Kansas. It's a soft DEEP ROYAL BLUE ball and we KICK IT BACK AND FORTH a little. I'm worried because we're stepping in a fresh garden bed and I don't want to hurt any seedlings. Since we're in the neighbor's yard, we're on the wrong side of a section of FENCE that's on our side of the garden plot to keep people from walking in it.

More sections of this fencing are being delivered to our house by two men [Nitpicker and Potwatcher]. They're looking for my mom so they can get paid. I go inside to find her. There's a party going on, people standing around talking. I get busy looking around, then remember the two guys wanting to get paid for their delivery, and they immediately appear.

SC and a tall man with gray hair and beard are talking to me. They are both former Bush administration officials; the tall one is called Donald Rumsfeld [in the dream. Actually the tall one is Bruce Moen. Sorry Bruce.] SC points him out to me and says, "There's the guy you want on YOUR COMMITTEE." He's so tall that his head touches the CEILING when he moves around. He has dark gray, wavy hair and beard streaked with white hair. He's dressed casually, funky. I want to ask him to be on my committee, he's such a famous person, but I wonder how a former Bush staffer ended up with a long hair, laid back attitude.

My dad [whose initials are also DR] walks past, sneering silently about the way I'm dressed. I notice that I am wearing a pointed BLUE stocking cap under a hooded sweatshirt, with my long thrift shop coat over that. [I am merging with my soul aspect Limberluck at this point. He is a carefree homeless person who celebrates having no attachments.]

I'm outside, and for no reason at all, on a lark, without cause, and on the spur of the moment, I decide to pretend that I'm dreaming!

What do dreaming people do? They fly. That's silly, what a joke. Oh well, whatever, I'm bored, watch this. I jump up into the air, Oh My God I'm Flying!!!

Not only that, but I instantly become lucid. I'm OUT, Free, Phasing, OBE, Lucid, Phasing, call it what you want, I'm doing it! I can't believe it, this is so incredible, it's like it's happening to someone else, the impossible has come true!

In seconds I'm up over the top of a flat-roofed city building, screaming in ecstasy. Then I REMEMBER TO CALM DOWN. I land on the rooftop and remember my plan of action: go to the red chair!

I pretend I'm grabbing the metal frame of the red canvas chair, and then it's real, in my hands. Recalling another item on my plan of action, I dive into the asphalt-shingled rooftop, experiencing one brief hiccup, but quickly remember to close my eyes first and try again.

I'm going down, through void while next to me is a wall texture moving with me, as if I was in some kind of vehicle, that looks like brown rubber with a repeating pattern, a raised texture molded into it. This works, I can't believe it, this is really me and I'm really out of my body!!! Again I scream in ecstasy and again I remember to calm down.

Then I'm standing still, blind, and remembering to RUB MY HANDS TOGETHER. It feels like I'm wearing thick leather gloves.

It's night outside. Salina, Kansas. The next part of my plan of action that I remember is to go to Stumped-No-More. [Plan had long been to dive through the mirror next to the red chair to go find Stumped-No-More, but I hadn't lingered at the chair, so I skipped over the plan to meet a guide in the chair.] I'm at the back screen door of a restaurant at night asking to see Stumped-No-More. The person I talk to (who leaves no trace of a visual memory, thus it's SC) goes inside to get him, leaving me standing inside the brightly lit, plain entranceway. I realize I had spoken to him with my mind, telepathically!

In this mood of ecstasy, Stumped-No-More appears. At first I'm disappointed that I didn't go to Fiddletown and see a blind old man laying on a pile of dirty rags like the first dream. He isn't even playing any music. It's just a regular dude, maybe 60 years old like me, but very very thick. The more I focus on how thick he is, the thicker he gets. His head is so big, and straight down from there, no neck. His head tooks like a tree stump. He has wispy, thin, short white hair, no beard, and he's wearing a white T-shirt. His skin has a faint orangish glow to it. He's just standing there, the tiniest quizzical smile on his small mouth, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, not saying a word. In fact, I detect absolute silence from him.

I'm thinking I should verify that it's actually Stumped-No-More, then for some reason or no reason, all the doubt and disappointment vanish and I grab him and give him a big hug, squeezing as hard as I can. When I back off, his short, white, wispy hair has changed to a dark bowl-cut like Moe of the Three Stooges. I shriek with hysterical laughter.

Now he has a sly little smile, twice as sly as before, and his face radiates friendliness and openness.

[I wake up in bed, remember to try and get out again, but I'm too excited and I want to write it all down. I think about all the details, realize the earlier dream was the intro to the OBE, and when I have it all put together I jump out of bed and start writing as fast as I can.]

  • tutorzone
  • meditation
  • portal
  • reincarnation
  • shamandrums
  • soulretinue
  • attacks
  • vision
  • breathwalk
  • balanced
  • appreciative
  • moodwatching
  • soulretrieval
  • indirect
  • mantra
  • stumped
  • glance
  • blue
  • nitpot
  • sc
  • merging
  • limberluck
  • calmdown
  • planaction
  • void
  • hands