The other day I felt compelled to buy Spike Lee’s documentary about the Katrina disaster, which originally aired on HBO. It’s four parts and tonight (Wednesday) I watched the first two. It’s a powerful film, and I recommend renting or buying it if you have not seen it (if you are so inclined).
And that is about as close as I will come to political commentary on this blog.
The title is of course a partial quote of Dorothy’s famous line from The Wizard of Oz when she realizes the world around her is not her familiar Kansas.
For some who choose a path to expanded awareness, an event may occur which will turn their current, and sometimes comfortable, belief system to rubble, or at the very least create a huge editing job.
One of those life-changing events happened to me during a journey in the early 90’s, well more precisely a couple days after the journey. The journey took place before my first trip to The Monroe Institute, although I had been using the Gateway Experience tapes at home for some time. I asked my guides, what is the most important thing I can know and understand at this time. I waited, and waited, and nothing came. I knew however that sometimes the answer does not come immediately, and may actually come days or weeks later, so I continued my journey and allowed the question to just “float out there.”
At the time I was living and working in the Los Angeles area and a couple days after asking the question, I had just begun my daily forty-five minute commute to work when I was hit with the most massive rush of unconditional love energy I have ever experienced. It was as if every part of my entire being was vibrating at an incredibly high frequency. When the vibrations peaked, I received my answer.
Hank Wesselman, my shamanic teacher, has been writing monthly articles for “The Meta Arts Magazine” since November of 2004, and they are a wonderful source of information on shamanism and the modern mystical movement. His first article, The Spiritwalker Program, has a wealth of information and well worth a read.If you would like to read more of his articles, click here.
As a young boy, I had out-of-body experiences. As I would be lying in bed before going to sleep my body would become very heavy and I would start to feel a gentle pulsing throughout my entire body. The pulsing would become quite strong and increase in frequency, and then begin to subside until it was gone and I had absolutely no feeling of being in a body. This happened with some regularity, but not every night, and I somehow knew it was nothing to fear. Sometimes I would just float around the room or go outside the house and float through trees, and sometimes I would feel a “call” to go somewhere. Sometimes that somewhere was a classroom-type setting where I would be taught things or be given information, and sometimes it would be a meeting with a group of other beings seemingly in the middle of nowhere. At such a young age, I never thought to write any of the experiences down, and never shared them with anyone until much later, not even my parents. There was a “knowing” that my very Catholic parents would not understand.
I had temporarily slipped out of my status as a recovering engineer and started to organize myself with outlines of what I wanted to cover in this blog, and when, but was gently nudged back into recovery. So, this blog is going to be random and will take me, and you, where the winds blow. I have no doubt that all the stuff I would like to share will end up here, I just don’t know when and in what order.
In September of 2005 I attended a weeklong workshop called Guidelines at The Monroe Institute (TMI) which is designed to introduce you to, and deepen your connection to, your own internal guidance (all those loving spirits working behind the scenes). One exercise toward the end of the week, was for each of us to find a quiet spot somewhere and write a letter either from or to our guides. We each placed them in a self-addressed envelope and were told that sometime in the near future, the wonderful people at TMI would mail the letters to us. When I received the letter in the mail a few weeks later, it was like I was reading the words for the first time. I vaguely remembered the words, but it was truly as if I had just provided a hand to hold the pen.