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    A Dream

    Saturday, October 11, 2008, 6:18 AM [General]

    I lived in a house and country estate that was full of young people, each doing their thing. Some were into music and I got to play with them. The chelo, harp and other instruments were being carried around and I guided them into safe stationary positions, only a little worried about them getting broken. Others were doing things in the kitchen, and others moving around through the house talking with each other, playing with things, working on some kind of art, some were dancing. It was as if everyone was in an altered state but it wasn't about drugs, it was just fluid and changeable and changing, a little strange like anything could happen, and everyone was completely absorbed in if not overwhelmed by the moments.- Much like my home, except more people.

    There was some kind of drama between persons. A girl was crying and scared or something. I wanted to comfort and stabilize her, and offered her a hug. As she faced me she changed, shaking and defensive. I felt her fear go through me, but I set it aside. She was clearly shook up and not altogether ready to believe it was alright, but she eventually melted into and accepted the hug.

    Across the back yard there was a wooded ravine, and another building with a hottub in it. Naked, I was about to go in following another guy, when I realized my wife was already in there with several other men. I backed out, a bit shy, but not angry.

    I could fly, and prefered doing so, floating not far above the ground and gliding. I went to a room attached to the hot tub building that was made into a safe house or day care for kids. I admired the place. It was like a big sandbox. I mean big, and bowl shaped with little islands, or piles, of play areas.

    Many people were around, like guests of mine, or tourists. I didn't know most of them, but moved among them, a friend of all. They were mystified that I flew. I was kind of proud of it. I flew past some back to the main house.

    I overheard someone asking, I think asking my wife, how they got that machine to fly and I realized they were talking about me. They thought I was some kind of fixture or robot machine. It scared me because I realized they didn't think I would actually be hurt if they tried to take me apart or something.

    Then the dream started getting intimate and personal with my wife. ~ sorry, curtain ~

    I told my wife about it when I awoke. When I got to the part about drama she thanked me for reminding her why she prefers to live out here rather than in town. Because there's always drama in groups.

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    An arrow dashed in slinters on the rocks

    Saturday, August 2, 2008, 9:19 AM [General]

    I was ten with a broken leg, on morphine
    I didn't know where I was, but I knew something was about to happen.
    Something all consuming, like the end of the world.
    I tried to explain to the nurse, then just resigned to wait.
    I braced myself with the rails of the bed,
    suspended over a surface like a fifty foot brain.
    Then it happend, like a shot, propelled up and out of the room,
    spinning head over heals tucked in a ball.

    I was fifteen in a fever dream,
    still tumbling through space,
    frightening forces of mass and momentum,
    the earth a distant but total size place
    rushing toward me, falling faster and faster.
    I resigned and knowing yoga, I aligned with the force
    a candlestick assana steady and calm
    like an arrow shot from the sun to the heart of the earth.

    I was eighteen and already had a messiah complex.
    I was used to strange experience, but never like this,
    after I forgot the LSD, I thought I had died,
    whole body and mind in an exhausting spasmodic stampede
    of running falling tumbling hearing and seeing
    a rush of snippits and endless loops echos
    of almost familiar language and images.
    The image of a diamond, I had meditated on before,
    dedicating myself to the simple essence of life
    like a creed of trusting and being
    now flowed down through me like a waterfall from above
    and was gone, gone, ... and then ...
    Like a giant spiral staircase tube
    only running on the wall,
    falling into it if I ever let up
    like the world had fallen apart,
    like the swirl of a flushing drain,
    "Can't you see your hurting us?! We're your friends!!"
    As they tried to subdue me, only echos in a nightmare.
    would it ever end? - It hurt - like watching it hurt
    tumbling, falling running, exhausted
    Like a wormhole between dimensions or instead of dimensions
    Like lifetimes of experiance on fast forward.
    Like failure, or one chance to survive, ... unless?
    doomed to repeat eons of lives to replace what I apparently spilled.
    Then drifting as if out the top of the spiral on a fountain of space
    with a friend named Katie Goodwill looking into my face
    hands clasped between us, there was temporary rest, and she said
    "Hold on to this Hans, It's the last chance for all of us."
    (she meant before they gave up, and let the cops take me for thorzine)
    Alright ! OK ! ... the world might be saved, ... hold on to ... what?
    again with the spiral, but I could see the end
    like a ratchet around the center, only five clicks left
    ... click, click, click ...
    ... every ounce of life force effort and breath ...
    ... click ... and it stopped just short of whole ...
    ... and I fell past the dark emptiness that was left ...
    ... into absolute nothing ... without another breath .

    The nothing from which nothing could ever be again
    no being, and nothing to begin with again
    I remember thinking at least
    there will be no one to blame me.

    Awakening later, or starting to dream,
    I did not remember, not for a while.

    Nothing was ever the same.
    Being is spirit, and can willfully change.
    From nothing the source of anything came.
    To feed me, work me, scare me, challenge and teach me.

    Tripping was never just entertainment to me.
    Enlightening, or terrifying, usually more than I could handle.
    Meditation, prayer, yoga, dance, music, poetry,
    I celebrate life, I get by, I move on.
    Nobody knows me because they wouldn't understand.
    I was quite excentric and delusional for a while.
    not just from one incident.

    I prayed constantly,
    and was answered at the edge of my awareness.
    Random conversations sometimes held other meaning to me.
    The radio or television would talk personally to me.
    A radio once told me to stop looking for these messages
    in the world around, seek inward, there it will be found.
    Never again did my teacher use the external the same.

    I always was a natural with math and science.
    But i had to learn to add and read again.
    I learned to be practical, learned a technical trade.
    A genious they have said, accomplished and valued.
    But strange in the head, not quite all with us,
    certainly not dead, he's full of surprises.

    Life is a hobby, and life my profession.
    Life is an artform, my job is attention.
    Still sometimes lonelyness leads to depression.

    A new generation grew up, eager and spacy.
    I was straight, but remembered the lagacy.
    I heard of Salvia Divinorum and tried,
    thinking for the young I might be a guide.

    I was suddenly back in the space between worlds.
    Comforting conventions had only been a dream.
    Again knowing completeness was only a potential.
    Not know who or what or where from but being that's real.
    As I returned to the room, and recognized it again.
    I knew the room was only conventionaly real.

    That night I dreamt a most wonderful dream, with my wife.
    On stone paths in a courtyard amidst stone castle rooms.
    On a high platueo above sea and clouds,
    I knew an ali nearby would help us.
    Like part eagle, part dragon, and would carry us home.
    There was danger, other groups sought it's power.
    Dark groups, dark magic, sought to capture and enslave it.

    I called like an eagle cry, keeeee, keeee. keeeeeeee.
    It drew attention from the others,
    I didn't tell them why.
    Then they left us, and we ran, down the pathways and slopes
    finally coming to the ocean with nowhere else to go.
    Then I saw it in the wind and the waves
    like the flapping of it's wings.

    And I feel it connected with my heart as I sing
    the spirit of life in all forms and all things
    to carry us home as we already bring
    everything to that powerful thing.

    The danger was gone, or merely a part.
    And suddenly there in the dream in my heart
    I could say and like breathing sing
    off the top of my head of this wonderful being.
    My wife even understood and was glad.
    I awoke with but part of the revelation I had.

    It's just a song, but that's life
    it's a hobby of mine I would share with my wife.
    But it's lonelier than that,
    and I can't go back.


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    Just Feelings

    Friday, August 1, 2008, 11:38 PM [General]

    here's an entry from my archives, from maybe 10 years ago. This post is expressing an interesting feeling. I think it was before I used Prozac. Since then i have expressed similar things and then added "but it might just be the Prozac." - I have since tappered off and quit those seritonen boosters, and it makes no difference. At one time I needed them to regain a perspective that I can accept what I was perceiving as unacceptable. But it's the attitude that makes all the difference.

    Anyway - This post

    >>One universal love. I have been deeply into a sense of identity and love in what I would call interpersonal or transpersonal space, with a few other people. Most notably with the few women that I have been married to or seriously romantically involved, but also more momentarily or peripherally with others as diverse as authors, or musicians, friends, co-workers, strangers, cats, birds, trees, sky, and waterfalls. What is common in every such case is an awareness of a profound connection, and an all absorbing feeling of - { a bit at a loss for the word here, love basically but it is such mixture of seeming opposites that it will take a few more words to capture } - that connects me not only with the immediate other, but seemingly with the soul of existence, with something that feels somehow more real and alive than any of our diverse forms, a universal soul, the only reality, and one love.
    >>The feeling or experience is both yearning and contentment at the same time. It is both sadness and joy. It is awe. It is in the breath and it stretches the heart so that it would burst if I kept it in, but I can't because it is everything, and the breath stretching the heart pushes up through the throat and that place behind the eyes and flows like a fountain of ecstatic life. And we all share it. It makes me glad to know the sky, it makes me laugh to watch the children, it makes me want to hold and celebrate the warm and tender flow of life energy with every spark that is shared with me. It makes me lust, and satisfies me. And it cuts me deep, and leaves me alone, all alone, only one love.
    >>My wife say's there might be meds for that, but I wouldn't change it if I could.
    >>It seems strange to me now that I expressed the sense of loneliness, as attached to the sense of oneness with all life. It seems strange, and yet I still sometimes feel that way. I would change that part if I could.371d36d75e05eda735858f8e467be99c
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    The mirror

    Friday, August 1, 2008, 11:15 PM [General]

    "I think I'm dead," a voice said.
    "What do you mean your dead? Your here aren't you?
    Your talking to me aren't you?" I answered the mirror.
    "Well yes, but where is this? It's just echoes of bliss.
    Nothing real I'd wager." - was the voice of a danger.
    "Center, I know you will find, joy of heart, peace of mind."
    I said to myself.
    "Center? Hold on? There's nothing here. It won't last.
    It's illusion. It will pass. Let it go, what you know."
    My self said to me.
    "Melting, disapearing, awash in the waves, I try as I say.
    But then ... Wait, I say NO! Focus, don't go!
    Don't let it die, It is why your alive." 
    I gasp and grasp to hold my existence.
    I wait for the words, "What do you mean your alive?"
    But no words this time, just a face mocking me,
    with a choke hold on my self, turning blue as can be.
    I laugh both with and at myself as I see.

    Submission and strife, are like polls of life.
    Like the polls of breath, each poll needs the other
    for as long as the lungs want to play for the day,
    then the night will be welcome, to dream if I may.

    Let go the pretention and hold the intention,
    ride wave upon wave afloat on invention,
    between the breaths they balence as one.
    Just dance and breathe
    laugh and have fun.

    slow energy flows
    like flame with steady billows
    clear light penetrates

    space behind the eyes
    filling as if a balloon
    of mind energy


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    My wolf dream

    Friday, August 1, 2008, 10:45 PM [General]

     have always loved flying dreams, and something almost like it - running for the sheer joy of it. 

    I think it is childhood memory of bike riding that makes one of my favorite dreams. I'm not riding a horse, but I might be one. There have been a few different versions of it, but basically it's a joy of running dream. Definately on four legs, down open grassy pathways, wind in my hair/face, winding and leaning into the turns.

    One such dream I'm pretty sure I was a wolf.  Winding downhill along a pathway with woods and rocks and such along the way. While in the sheer joy of running, I became aware of a presence to my side, about the edge of the clearing or just into the trees. As if standing still and watching me, at the same time moving exactly with me, at the same time both in the space of that dream and somehow outside of it, in that moment as I looked and it was projected in the form of a lamb. Being a Lutheran, and semi-lucid in the dream, I dropped the rest of the dream all together and faced him and said "Hello lamb". ( and meant I am so glad to see you - Jesus - in a casual sense ) I felt a response like he was glad that I recognized him, and I drifted towards him, toward each other, in what was then more like open space than a pathway or place. As I got there the image became more all enveloping, like a warm (and sticky red) shower washing down over and through me, disolving all remenants of any image whatever, leaving only love or joy floating as if back in the womb. ( or like a wolf absorbed in that bloody moment with a lamb, like an innocent and hungry puppy satisfied at the breast )

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    My Goat Dream

    Friday, August 1, 2008, 10:41 PM [General]

    I am running along footpaths in a hardwood forest, others are there and we tumble and play. I notice as I role on my back in the grass and ferns and kick my feet up at the air, that I have legs like a goat, or a faun. I roll back up and run, marveling at how well those hoofed legs carry me bounding over the ground. I am alone as I come to a clearing and find a pile of rocks in the middle like an alter or maybe an open fireplace. It is a couple feet tall, about four feet across, and looks mostly made of pebbles rather than larger stones. The ground is worn all around it and after once around inspecting it, I start dancing. Still moving around that center pile, mostly facing it, with a reverence and joy understanding it's meaning as a sort of alter or center of celebration or worship. I started chanting breathing and raising my arms, face, chest, and soul to the center. I was chanting the baaaaa , of a goat , with every breath. It seemed to resonate through and around me and become clearer and stronger with each breath. Then I started to experience full copies of the whole experience as if around me, but each complete with it's own ground and sky and center. Many of them. As I/we continued the dance/chant in simultaneous unison, the feeling that I was seeing/feeling within each perspective separately and simultaneously became more and more pronounced, as the distance between us decreased and merged into a single experience that had multiplied in the intensity of aliveness, awareness, joy, and being.

    This dream came along when I had just became a Boy Scout leader to guide and share my experiences of camping and fellowship from my youth with a new generation of scouts. But I had never before been so intimate with my goat totem.



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    One question

    Tuesday, May 13, 2008, 3:08 PM [General]

    At the very heart of the problem or chalenge that we face right now, is the need to change the paradigm "us/them," and even "me/you/(him/her)."  These are mostly habits.
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    The Living Word

    Tuesday, May 13, 2008, 2:53 PM [General]

    I don't understand why people think so simplistically and superficially about something as important as what words are truth, or about what scripture is inspired. Any words can be either true or false depending on perception. I don't mean by using the right or wrong intellectual interpretation, spin, or apology, any more than I mean using the most ancient or original. All words flow ultimately from the mouth of God, the creator. The test of truth is how well the words open our heart and mind to that immediate presence and reality, that creative love. The test of truth is love, because love is the essence or truth of God's immediate presence and reality. Only love can know the true value of anything or any words, and all scripture is sacred.

    Muslims, Jews, and Christians hold some of the same ideas very dear. One in particular may be very helpful right now. We look for the coming or return of the king or messiah who will save "us" and vanquish "them". So we agree. If we listen more carefully, we wait for one who will save truth and righteousness (goodness) and vanquish what is false and sinful (destructive). So we have something we agree on and can hope for. Do we even have to agree on how that happens? Maybe not, but it might help.

    We have the same reality, the same God, there is only one. (this is not to say any other doctrine is false, just that it has no other being) Any disagreement about truth is necessarily based on an illusion or ignorance of the one reality we share. One particular confusion, unwittingly perpetuated by superficial rhetoric, is at the root of most of our problems. Teaching by isolation and comparison to "others", is no longer practical, and has caused damage. It is imperative that we change the whole paradigm of "us/them" and embrace the fact that we one. Every king, messiah, enlightened being, and lost soul share this same reality, being, self. The whole humanity is in our fold.

    Let's welcome the immediate return of the king as the true self and common identity of every person. It is time to recognize our power and responsibility to care for all subjects of the kingdom. This fits the expectation of the one who will lead us into all righteousness and vanquish all other. There is no other. This noble insight, seeing with love the same reality in all life, effectively conquers death also, for there is no other self. We are one.

    This far out messianic proclamation might seem impractical, but certainly not more impractical than business as usual. It may seem too esoteric or eccentric to have any wide appeal, or reality. But no, the time is now, this is the heart of the matter, it makes sound psychological, spiritual, and even secular sense. I believe it makes sound historical sense of the essential meaning of all the enlightened prophesy also.

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    Kingdom Come Now

    Friday, April 25, 2008, 7:46 AM [General]

     Buy my new book Kingdom Come Now  Welcome the return of the king, the messiah, as the true self and common identity of every person. 

    The cover picture incorporates the cross of Christ, the Star of David, and the Kaaba of Mecca, in the same geometry. Tied together with the sacred circle to all religion and all life.

    It is time to stop dividing ourselves over partial understandings and vain use of words. The essence and truth is the same for all people. Disagreements are therefore neccessarily based on an illussion or misunderstanding.

    Sometimes people are talking about different things when they think they are in disagreement about the same thing.  And sometimes people are actually taling about the same thing, and saying the same things about it, but think they are in disagreement because they think they are talking about different things. 

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    Thursday, April 24, 2008, 7:58 PM [General]



    You are not the healer, but merely a clear channel

    through which the healing energy may flow.

    You are not the teacher, but merely a facilitator

    leading students to their own learning experience.

    You are not the leader, but merely a link in a chain,

    not to your teachers and healers, but to truth and beauty

    not in a single line, but in this web of life.

    The best teaching we can do is by example,

    to model learning, and to share the knowing and the unknowing.

    The best healing we can do is to be a sharing of this energy and life.

    The best we can do is let the healer and teacher be us.

    How can we help people realize they need to learn

    to think instead of just believe?

    to know instead of just think?

    and to believe instead of just know?

    When will we learn to get out of the way and let our self be?

    We reach out to holiness or otherness because we crave change,

    We crave change because we are alive.

    Using dance, trance, meditation, sex, exercise, and sleep

    even psychedelics, alcohol, and prozac,

    or spirit guides, and angels.

    Exploring altered states and spirit worlds

    until realization dawns that this world is the other world too.

    Maybe still addicted to altered states or change

    until that changes

    seeing the constant unchanging nature of all that changes,

    that it changes, is changing, and will change

    and seeing the deeper constant

    that is being.

    There is only one.

    The Teacher

    I have sought - "the teacher" - "the healer" - "the guru" - "the friend" - the cosmic greater than our selves spirit, universal, everywhere, in everyone and everything. I have sought signs and messages and have come to expect them. I am seldom surprised by the coincidence of an answer as soon as I recognize and think the question.

    Seeing signs and messages of a personal nature in everything, a continuous conversation of words and emotions. I have been taught and nurtured by the spirit I sought. I may be rather delusional, but remember there is a fine line between seers, sages, and psychotics. Once as I prayed and wrestled with a particular issue, looking for an answer, I believed in and trusted the spirit that spoke directly to me as a voice on the radio, and told me that I was looking too hard for answers in the world around me, and that it was time I started looking within.

    With an emotional body, a body of feelings, I watch my breath, my energy, my senses, my attention, drift and flow, concentrate and expand, stand, dance, build, wilt, embrace, laugh, and weep. I feel questions, answers, opinions, and challenges to opinions, that don't even form into words unless I dwell on them. Like dreams that you feel upon waking that you don't fully remember unless you dwell on them and remember.

    I used to practice a meditation gazing in a mirror. I thought of the practice as a conversation with "the" other, "the" spirit of guidance, because of the way one thought would lead to another, a feeling to a counter feeling, a speculation to an affirmation or scoff, a question to an answer, or an answer to the next question. I opened any secret place I could find. I confessed any sin. Shared any dream. Then my "friend" would open the secret further, confront the deeper weakness, affirm the life source of my love and hope, make fun of me if I took it all too seriously, or hold me to the quick if I wasn't letting myself care.

    I read an warning not to pray while looking in a mirror, but the face and eyes are such natural conduits of subtle expression for perception - the hint of a eyebrow raised, a twinkle in the eye, or the slight clouding of the eye as attention holds an inner idea or feeling. I have read an warning not to pray looking to any image or idea, but judge by whether the practice leads to fixation on some concept, or to the freedom to see beyond and around that focus.

    Once when I was questioning the validity of my meditation, and questioning who or what my spirit guide was. I thought surely this teacher is the cosmic Christ. Then with some concern I considered that it could also be The Devil. As soon as the thought occurred to me a most extraordinary experience passed through me. The most vivid auditory hallucination I ever remember. First it was a laughter, a long rolling belly laugh like when something is just too funny to resist or even to catch your breath, without a trace of resistance. It was a mirthful laugh without a trace of malice. It seemed to come from everywhere and roll down through me. Finally a voice said, still laughing, "But Hans, if it must be one or the other, then which one are you? Because it's just you and me here my friend."

    I thought that was funny too. I may have a messiah complex, but I don't trust anyone too far, not even myself, and especially not the trickster I call my teacher, not any further than I know. And I don't trust knowing any further than an accepting of what may change. But I love and trust being.

    And I love my teachers.

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