UNWORLDING JOURNAL YEAR ONE (excerpts)

     Part Two of Unworlding

Don't remove this line.

AUGUST 20, 2016 to AUGUST 26, 2016

Life is a state of mind.

      --Jerzy Kosinski

2016-08-20

[LS] My dad is testing the width of a way down a steep river bank by trying to back down it blind, butt first, between two clumps of bushes. He gets scared, gives up and says, "No way down for Buddy," and comes back up, not even trying. I don't accept this, I can see jumping down headlong is the only way, and I imagine doing this spontaneously, then lucid, I imagine doing it again. [THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I have become lucid during an LS and stayed in the LS, at least long enough to try jumping off the bank a second time.]

[I was just now thinking about how I have to start repeating my plan of action to myself more often and at that exact moment from the movie Taran is watching came these words of dialog: "...having a plan..."]

[So here it is again. I plan to become lucid in my sleep and/or exit consciously tonight. Upon doing so, I plan to go directly to the red chair downstairs, touching objects to deepen the phase. I plan to find Silent Companion ("SC") in the chair and meet with him/her and do some bonding, say thanks, and have a short talk to get information. Then I plan to jump into the mirror and go to Stumped-No-More in Fiddletown. I will let his music carry me to Bob Neal at some point in Bob's life so he can show me his magic self-sustaining air powered engine and tell me how it works.]

[The vague part is this--what to ask SC? Here are some sample questions: Are you one of my dream bodies? Are you part of me? Are you part of a soul group to which I belong? Are you my higher self? Are you my guide? Is self soul retrieval my appropriate path right now? Can you say a few words to help me with my current practice? Will you help me go through the mirror to Stumped-No-More now?]

2016-08-21

Trying to use computer, but it keeps shutting down. I'm doing something else and see both cords have been chewed completely in two over near the wall where they plug in. Pieces of electrical wire all over the floor. I think about getting my live catch trap over here [but wake up, glad I didn't have to hurt the mouse.]

[LS] Looking at some young artichoke plants in a field, aware that mice are hiding deep inside the stalks.

[Disappeared somewhere and just came back. No idea where I went, but came back smoothly, not sleeping, was busy I guess. Mouth not hanging open. Last thing I remember was looking for a cave to enter.]

8:25 pm

[Getting out of bed to write this since it's good practice for later when I'm sleepy.]

[Upon lying down and relaxing, immediately saw fine-line hypnagogic images, including an alien life form that looked like feathery-fine tufts of grass, perectly symmetrical and going from there, transforming into other round, rippled, quicksandy, self-swallowing things.]

11:15 pm

[When I woke up I moved before remembering not to. I was sure I would not remember the dream, but did remember parts when I got up and got out of bed.]

A variety of small animals that I keep discovering are my responsibility. A small turtle and a small cat have died from neglect and I am secretly relieved because now they don't have to go with us on the big move. Then I think the turtle might just be thirsty and sure enough, when I put his mouth in the cat's water dish, he starts to drink, so I dump him in the water and leave. I go outside and up the hill, this is Highland Drive in Glenwood Springs, and the house is about where the tennis courts were in the park at the bottom. I come back down the hill to check on animals, and one, a small reddish brown dog, is running down the hill in front of me. When I get to the house, Tommy is going up and says he has gone ahead with the remodeling that he said he couldn't do. This is a problem because I didn't bring my key and now I will be locked in the house due to the remodeling. He's built an addition on the whole back of the house, butting up against the steep hill. It's strictly hollow block and reinforced concrete, there are no doors or windows. He quickly smashes a hole in the right side, which surprise me, because I thought I'd probably find a key in the left side, but I guess I can use Taran's dark red flashlight to go in the hole and get to the left side.

In the end, there are two posters, labelled at the bottom, but no memory of what they actually were. In the beginning, there was a visual of the original house which was only about six feet thick along a front completed portion, so it was no surprise that Tommy had gone ahead and tried to make it thicker.

Also at one point, there was a light blue nylon winter jacket which the turtle and the small cat had wrapped themselves up into, in order to hibernate or die. Another cat was to be found upstairs on the old upright piano, but when I came back downstairs, I was coming down Highland Drive instead. That's when I met Tommy going up. [Someone is trying to get me to go through tunnels. So often I dream about tunnel-shaped rooms, apartments, and houses.]

2016-08-22/23 8:15 pm

[To bed before the others.]

9:15 pm

[When I went to bed, I put a pillow against the wall and used the mask since there were lights on. Did about three manhole head popups but not in the mood for visualizations. Thought about just meditating, awareness only. Next thing I know it's somewhat later and while Jovie and Taran are getting ready for bed, I'm having little sleeps between their noise. Maybe NLOBE because not quite asleep. I am literally drifting in and out of my body, not lucidly, and mostly out, which is odd since there is activity in the room. A very unusual state.]

[NLOBE1] There's a small pile of dirt from the floor right on the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed. How did that get there? I need to do something about it, I can't just leave it there. But where will I put it? I can't just brush it off on the floor, and I don't want to touch it, but I should take it to the trash receptacle in the kitchen. The nagging thought finally surfaces: this is non-physical. I don't actually have to do anything.

[NLOBE2] Taran is getting in bed with sky blue canvas shoes on. His feet sure are big, why doesn't he take his shoes off before he gets in bed? [I realize this is non-physical and I'm relieved I don't have to deal with it.]

10:55 pm

[In a dream that I've forgotten, except that I'm sitting on my bed or in the bedroom, so this is a real-time-zone OBE, but non-lucid.]

I am taken by surprise when a large black flying scorpion or tiny dragon comes straight at me, then disappears. It is ten inches long and solid black. I wonder what it is and I think I know, but can't remember. I try to look it up or something, and at some point I hear the words, "You have an ulcer in the voice, in the _____, and in the _____."

2016-08-23 8:00 am

[Woke up at the usual time around 5:00 a.m.]

[By now the memory of the following phase experience is faulty, but there was never a time when I was going to be able to put all the details in their proper order, because the whole thing was a somewhat timeless jumble of intensity. Lots of unconscious, delirious drifting, doubleness, doing things over and over.]

I'm in an Asian or alien country but in the house where I lived as a very small child in small town, southern Colorado [but not aware of being there vs. my current home.] A woman is there as SC, unseen. In the dream I assumed it was my wife. No one else is there.

At the same time, I am literally focused in my real bed, barely out of phase with my body. [Wasn't aware of this either, just realized it while trying to describe the experience.] This is a soul-crunching journey through a wringer of unbearable emotions. My dream body was in a soporific, nearly paralyzed condition.

[We OBE novices are seeking a state commonly termed "mind awake, body asleep". The problem is that the mind wants to go to sleep when the body does. The dream I am trying to describe took place with both my mind and body partly awake. The result was an incredibly intense experience, energy I could chew on and taste. This was no "dream". It was very real in spite of the fact that I felt drugged, delirious; I also was extremely aware of one single thing, and that thing was...]

Emotion. Seering, blinding emotion. My eyes are nearly shut with it, my muscles are weighed down with it and aching, my brain is squeezing it out like day-old turds. My mouth is hanging open, I am drooling, sobbing, unaware of who or where I am and not caring either, I am only aware of what is pouring out through me, and I am aware that SHE is in the house somewhere.

Oddly enough, I like it.

At one point I get out of bed and try to get dressed, but wearing the first thing I see, because I am so far beyond caring about anything that I will just wear anything, which happens to be a long housewife's dress from the 1950s that is on the floor next to my bed.

[At several points, I start to come out of it and go back in. This is so lucid, I dare anyone to tell me this is not lucid. But I did not "know I was dreaming." If anything, I knew it was real. Our notion of what lucidity is needs to be revamped. It's not about how well we connect to who we physically think we are. We have to go back to the dictionary definition of "lucidity": this was a dream of clarity. I was deeply involved in taking a long-delayed psychic dump. It went on for a long time, utterly plotless, completely one-pointed. Nothing mattered except to puke misery. It was not self-pity, it was a wrenching outward thrust. It felt great, truly fine.]

For a time I am handling small pieces of rose quartz. The smallest is the prettiest. I turn it around so I can see the best side, a clear PINK window. The other piece is plain, mostly whitish.

Finally during the latter portion of the experience, I hear someone saying, "Hit him! Hit him!"

[Regarding the most recent attack, the second one. I was not aware it was going to happen, because I was standing in front of a 24-year-old nephew who had just slammed me in the shoulder with his hand or fist, and I was in shock because I'm his loving uncle who has known him since he was 13, and I was under the impression that children must practice respect for their elders here in the Philippines, and I had been trying to correct his attitude. Not in a nice way I hadn't, but he and his friends were in contempt of my wife, their aunt, and I was in shock because he had slammed me with his hand. I am not used to violence and he should know by now I'm neither going to shut up nor fight him. I was standing there trying to decide what to do, it was dark because the light outside the internetan is just a dim red bulb, when suddenly all the lights went out and I woke up reeling in the yard, spitting blood and tooth. I was told later that while I stood in front of nephew dithering about my next move, his father--my bro-in-law--was standing on the front porch 20 feet away shouting at his son, telling him to hit me. I wasn't aware of this, because nephew had just hit me and I was in shock, I had turned inside to look for a solution. Apparently bro-in-law lost patience with my slow pace, came down off the porch and hit me himself. I didn't even know he was coming, much less shouting. So in this experience, I actually retrieved a lost memory: I heard someone saying, "Hit him! Hit him!" These are the only words I recall hearing anywhere during this dream.]

[When I woke up I couldn't believe Taran was still in bed beside me. I thought I had overslept, and I was in a very strange euphoric condition because I had just been through what felt like a very prolonged and intense experience but what really stood out was how real it felt. While on one hand I felt delirious, on the other hand I was 100% engaged with this dream, which is why I call it lucid.]

2016-08-23 5:00 pm

[Went to sleep for a while, then went in and out, looked at images. Fun and interesting, favorite was an old-fashioned child's nursery all in warm tones of brown, where a portal had appeared that looked like an arched entranceway as seen on igloos, but just back from the entrance another one over that, and more on back, telescoping back. I wanted to draw it but couldn't find a good picture of a boy crawling into a tunnel, and noticed the longer I looked, the less I cared about anything else but the bottomless pit of web surfing. This inspired me to get some exercise.]

6:00 pm

[Breathwalking.]

2016-08-24 12:25 am

[Sitting up to go to sleep works. I had some non-lucid exit experiences. Slightly painful, actually, in a weird way. Oddly enough, all I can recall is pain on the top skin of my right hand, as if the body pulling away also pulled the hair on the back of my hand. Going back to bed now lying on side.]

Taran (SC) and I are visiting at my dad and Charlene's spotless home, but they're out with friends. Charlene has been saving small plastic bags that baking soda had come in, and Taran spreads a stack of them all over the wall-to-wall carpet in one impish gesture. I'm picking them up in a panic when they get home.

I'm trying to help Charlene do the laundry and I have to use a round flap of plastic 5" in diameter, a sink stopper, to scoop laundry detergent powder into the machine. I'm afraid I'll do it wrong. [They don't use powder, they use liquid.]

Now it's a coffee making machine, and I have scooped so much coffee grounds into it that Charlene decides instead of just making a cup for me, she'll have to make a whole pot. [They don't use ground coffee and filters, they use those one-use plastic cups. They are trying to help me become lucid by doing things the wrong way.] I wonder if the coffee will keep me from sleeping. So far, there appears to be an immaculate one room apartment with nothing in it but me and these appliances; all the people in the dream are unseen except for a quick flash to establish who they are. Visually, everything is focused on what I'm doing with my HANDS.

Then it comes up that my dad has to run me home, which seems like a big bother. There are other ways, including a little tricycle that works by magic, but I end up walking. In an industrial area running along the double tracks (Salina), a big old-fashioned white sedan might be following me. I get paranoid and start thinking of how to avoid it, in case it's following me.

I end up at the hotel room of a famous rock band after a concert and I am some sort of delivery boy, so I go into their little bare room. They are aging rockers, shirtless and either long-haired or shaved-headed, sitting around a card table looking famous. They are big, macho, and look like wax statues, but they talk if you talk to them. I plan to say, "Nice to meet you guys," as I walk in, hoping it will be the right thing to say to aging rock stars.

The one in charge [my guide] turns out not to be the leader of the band as I had thought, he's just the one who appears lucid or approachable, and the one I gravitate to. He tells me to go ask Ray--the real leader of the band--how many pieces to cut the small birthday cake into. I go into the next part of the tiny, bare wooden hotel room, and there's Ray, skinhead and big muscles, even more famous and stoic than the others, an epic statue of epicness, sitting motionless, staring into space being epic. [These are my guides. I asked to meet a group of guides and that's what they are.]

I ask Ray how many pieces the tiny cake should be cut into. He looks at me without batting an eyelash and says, "A hundred." Well, the pale yellow-frosted cake is only 8 inches in diameter. I go back to the first guy, who informs me that I am being messed with, and I try to get with the program by talking in a streetsy New York accent, "Yeah, and I wish I had a hundred hits of acid," and I say something else. [Other details forgotten.]

4:10 am

[Will meditate on terrace. When I started writing this, I was still hypnagogic, very actively, and still sleepy.

[NLOBE1] There is a power line stapled to the back of the house running the length of the house, about 4 feet from the ground. The covering is translucent. It has been chewed in half with a four-inch gap between the two remaining ends. [MOUSE again.]

[NLOBE2] I've set a fire on the window sill as a meditation aid. It's ferocious, I better put it out before the curtain ignites.

[NLOBE3] "Cockroaches!" I look to my left to see if there's a dead cockroach on the billiard table.

[These are nonlucid OBEs; all three took place somewhere on this property.]

2016-08-25 2:10 am

[Meditation.]

2:50 am

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

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.]

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 appreciation. 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 LR 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 convoluted wordings of Alysia Lauging Rain McAlister 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.]

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 extra bed, sleeping 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 is 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 Donald Rumsfeld. [Actually the tall one is BRUCE Moen.] 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 recently retrieved 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 shooting down through solid brown nothing, hundreds of feet a second, with an oddly flat, relatively still visual to my right of what looks like brown rubber with a repeating raised texture stamped into it. This works, I can't believe it, this is really me and I'm really out of my body shooting at top speed from one world to another!!! 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. 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 correctly hadn't lingered with the chair and skipped over (forgot) the plan to meet a guide in the chair... the guides were in the house earlier... "the committee"...]. I'm at the back screen door of a restaurant asking to see Stumped-No-More. The person (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, crippled old fiddler 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. 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.]