I feel the familiar swirling halo of warmth around the whole of my body as I sit comfortably on a puffy couch in my living room. The embracing warmness beckons me to succeed this time; I feel its smile. White clouds begin to well up ten feet in the distance—Cirrus-type—gently sweeping in a wisp, like the exhaust from a group of smoldering extinguished ember tips. Solid objects that once poke through the ambiguous cloudiness now fragment and disperse. The door in the distance, pictures on the hallway walls and the ever-present beige carpeting vanish lazily as I watch mesmerized in a three-quarter trance.
Celtic Shamanism::
Journeying, there and back again as Bilbo said, is the essential part of being a shaman - else he is not walking between worlds.
http://www.peagreenboat.demon.co.uk/celtic-shamanism.htmHOME |
There is that heaviness again, in, around, and behind my eyes, that usual precursor to the fear of going farther than this. Familiar pressure wells up at my eyeballs, so they start watering until I remember to soften my focus. My third eye feels swollen and throbbing. Forward, I see interspersed sparks of movement up and down, side to side, in every periphery. Semi-transparent things are flying everywhere, in complete disarray, so it takes every bit of concentration to keep from breaking my forward focus.
I raise my hands to a comfortable distance between my heart and throat and feel sudden rushes of energy flowing between them. It is an apparent opening I can only describe is as a gateway, and I do not know how I came upon this method but it works.
The cloud thickens rapidly, and colors form at the outer edges—first grayish-white, then indigo surprise. The colors whirl inward to encompass everything in front of me. What is left of the scene beyond vibrates erratically and dissipates wildly within the forming cloud base. That which originally seemed solid, shifts and tilts this way and that, finally breaking away. Background sounds of a refrigerator and air conditioner fade to their lowest drones, and suddenly, nothing exists beyond the clouds.
PaperCuts: Walking between worlds::
Walking between worlds. greywalker. It only took two minutes of being dead to change Harper Blaine. She’sa private investigator with a natural skepticism,
http://papercuts.tscpl.org/2007/07/walking_between_worlds.htmlHOME |
I have been afraid to get beyond this point for so long, I think lightly, not heavy enough to kill the trance. Why am I so afraid of the reality beyond these clouds? Could whatever is there possibly be worse than some of what I have experienced in this life? “But you’ll get lost and never come back,” I hear shouting in my head, ego doing its job magnificently. Oddly, I think, in drifting off to sleep each night, I trust this exact phenomenon, precisely. I trust that I will wake each morning, though there is no indication of that. I figure, What is to fear but this fear?
After a thousand tries in recent years, I finally accept my fate beyond. I sense past the ball of fear in my gut to the breath of the clouds. My body is just a buzz, and I feel the inside and outside of it simultaneously. Suddenly I am seeing through the crown of my head. The clouds summon me forth to the unknown, as if I have succeeded at this a million times before. Something tells me I have, but not in this lifetime. I wait, though somewhat apprehensive, knowing that all of my long-sought answers and truth lie beyond this point. Awestruck, finally, I walk between worlds.
The magnificent sun shines full blast here now, it seems, pure being in Light—that which all seek but few find. There lay the world’s thoughts, swirling and vibrating possibilities in the distance of the Void. I see the density of thoughts as they build and then dissipate without cohesion. It is at this level that thoughts, whether internally or externally, become blocks, clogs, hooks, attachments—the hindrances of life. They emerge as thick, energetic tentacles, depleting the life force from bodily energies.
Everything connects between worlds, as in our own lower-frequency world, energetically via webs of vibration, visualized as opalescent filaments and dancing particles everywhere. There is no pressure. On the deepest levels, everyday matters lose meaning and drama cannot prevail. No fear or greed, jealousy or pain here. Beyond the body to pure thought, things that mattered just moments before mean nothing. The pace is so relaxed and it flows supremely, open and free, no constriction. I must bring this to the people, I think, as I drift further into the Void.
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Walking Between Worlds