Category Archives: Jan’s Blog

Welcome!

Currently, I put most of my energy into the weekly channeled messages, the daily Soulbytes, and the completion of The Recapitulation Diaries. An occasional blog does still get written when the creative urge strikes. Archived here are the blogs I wrote for many years about inner life and outer life, inner nature and outer nature. Perhaps my writings on life, as I see it and experience it, may offer you some small insight or different perspective as you take your own journey.

With gratitude for all that life teaches me, I share my experiences.

Jan Ketchel

A Day in a Life: A Shamanic Experience

One day last week I sat down to meditate in front of a sliding glass door looking out over the deck and into the trees beyond. I focused my gaze on a spot at eye level in the leaves of the large catalpa tree and let it soften. In continually softening my gaze the leaves began to blur, my peripheral vision blurred as well and after a few minutes I was gazing at nothing more than a tiny pinprick of light. At first I did not attach any significance to this light, simply noted it, keeping my gaze on it.

As I concentrated on the point of light it began to float. It began to jiggle and shift in the blurred pattern of leaves. I became fascinated by this light, yet I also warned myself not to attach, to stop “looking” at it and simply let it be. “Achieving inner silence is much more intriguing and important than this pinprick of light,” I smugly told myself. Making a new attempt to banish all thoughts and soften my gaze I noticed that the light was moving again, this time coming towards me and that it now seemed to be something on the glass door.

“Oh,” I said to myself, “it’s just a raindrop!” But as soon as I noticed that, it retreated and was once again a point of light in the leaves. “Oh, perhaps it is just a speck of sky showing through the leaves,” I thought, now somewhat puzzled by what I was actually seeing. This shifting back and forth continued. As I watched in utter amazement the point of light was a tiny bit of sky one second and the next it was a raindrop catching the light on the door.

“Hey, wait a minute!” I said. “What’s going on here?” One minute I’m positive that I’m looking at a drop of water and the next I’m equally positive that I’m looking at a bit of sky. I watch this process with growing frustration and yet I resist the urge to get up off my pillow and investigate close up, aware somehow that this little show is for my benefit.

“STOP IT!” I finally yell out loud. “Calm down! Don’t you get it? It’s both. It is both a bit of sky showing through the leaves and a raindrop on the window and yet it is neither, so let it go!” With that I was able to detach from assigning a label, from creating a logical explanation, from affording it importance, from interpreting it in any way according to the foreign installation as the seers of ancient Mexico call the mind, of putting it into a context at all.

As Carlos Castaneda writes in The Wheel of Time:

“Human beings are perceivers, but the world they perceive is an illusion: an illusion created by the description that was told to them from the moment they were born.

So in essence, the world that their reason wants to sustain is the world created by a description and its dogmatic and inviolable rules, which their reason learns to accept and defend.”

I let go of all the rules. I let go of perceiving the point of light as anything in particular. I simply accepted its presence, without attaching any meaning or significance whatsoever. I allowed it to be part of my meditation practice.

As I let go, the light grew larger. I accepted it. I entered the light and held myself in its nothingness. In this place I was unaware of self, of light, of breath even. I was utter calm emptiness. I stayed for a moment, suspended, sustaining the nothingness of it, transported into a stillness that was so familiar, so known, so all encompassing that I almost resented leaving it.

As I returned to this reality I gave thanks for my experience, got up and walked away. It was only later that I realized I did truly get beyond the syntax of this world, for when I was done I did not, as I might have at an earlier stage in my life, investigate if there was indeed a raindrop on the window. It didn’t matter. It was the experience alone that mattered: letting go of this world in order to have an experience of another.

In The Art of Dreaming when Carlos is having difficulty understanding how he could possibly perceive what don Juan is telling him, they have the following conversation:

The problem of validation always played a key role in my mind in those days,” says Carlos.

He goes on to say: “Forgive me, don Juan, but this business of the assemblage point is an idea so farfetched, so inadmissible that I don’t know how to deal with it or what to think of it.”

Don Juan retorted: “There is only one thing for you to do. See the assemblage point! It isn’t difficult to see. The difficulty is in breaking the retaining wall we all have in our minds that holds us in place. To break it we need energy. Once we have energy, seeing happens to us by itself. The trick is in abandoning our fort of self-complacency and false security.”

It’s obvious to me, don Juan, says Carlos, that it takes a lot of knowledge to see. It isn’t just a matter of having energy.”

It is just a matter of having energy, believe me. The hard part is convincing yourself that it can be done. For this, you need to trust the nagual. The marvel of sorcery is that every sorcerer has to prove everything with his own experiences. I am telling you about the principles of sorcery, not with the hope that you will memorize them but with the hope that you will practice them.”

If you wish, feel free to share or comment in the Post Comment section below.

Sending you all love and good wishes for good experiences,
Jan

NOTE: Excerpts from the books of Carlos Castaneda mentioned in this blog come from The Wheel of Time p. 137 and from The Art of Dreaming pp. 9-10. These and other books are available through our Store.

A Day in a Life: A Somatic Recapitulation Experience—The Body Never Lies

On Monday, as I was washing the breakfast dishes, I recalled the same day twenty-two years ago, the day before my son’s birth. He was my first child and I was nervous as the estimated date of arrival neared. On that day I stood in our apartment in Tennessee also washing the breakfast dishes. I broke a glass and cut my hand. The cut bled profusely. My grandmother had once told me the story of cutting her arm one day, quite deeply, and with no medical aid or doctor available she simply held the skin together applying pressure until the bleeding stopped, then wrapped it up with a clean cloth and in no time the skin knit itself back together again. Recalling this story at the time, I did the same thing. Not interested in rushing off to have the deep cut sewn up I washed it clean of the dishwater, applied pressure, held the skin together and tightly applied a Band-Aid. The cut hurt badly, but by the end of the day it was well on its way to healing.

Monday, which synchronistically happened to be this same grandmother’s birthday, I looked at my hand for the scar I knew was there, but could not find it. I knew it was somewhere on my right hand on the mound around the base of the thumb. I looked and looked but found no scar. It’s gone?! It didn’t seem possible. “Funny,” I thought, “that a scar like that could disappear.” I finished washing the dishes and went about my day having had this little recapitulation, soon forgetting it, letting it sink back into memory.

Later in the afternoon the heel of my right hand began hurting. It was a deep burning pain. As I worked I absentmindedly tried shaking it off, literally shaking my hand in an effort to stimulate circulation, rubbing it and wondering what I had done to it. Had I bumped my hand, bruised it, burned it? I couldn’t recall any recent injury. Then suddenly it dawned on me, my body was showing me where I had cut my hand twenty-two years earlier! Looking at the spot that was now so painful I found the old scar. There it was on the heel of my right hand, just where it should be, a white scar about an inch long just below my pinky.

My body was once again, as it had done throughout my recapitulation, reminding me that it does indeed hold all of my memories. My brief recapitulation of that day was enough of a trigger, setting the intent that allowed my body to experientially recall that memory more exactly than my mental recapitulation could. I found this little experience most interesting. “Very cool,” I thought, but even more so I appreciated the reminder that our bodies hold our experiences, even the tiniest details, until we are ready to recapture them.

I personally believe that most of the pain we carry, and most illness, is due to our pasts, whether the past of this life or of previous lives, that pain expresses that which is hidden or repressed. Louise Hay, in her simple yet informative book, Heal Your Body, describes her own process of discovering why she had cancer and how she used mental healing to cure herself. Her little book offers insight into the possible psychological causes of many illnesses and bodily symptoms.

Pain is a gift, a signal, a trigger to recapitulate, offering us the opportunity to do deep inner work, to bring into the light that which lies hidden in our physical bodies. When we investigate and reconcile our pain we offer ourselves yet another gift, not only the gift of freedom from pain but also the gift of what that freedom can open us up to. In unblocking our bodies we have the opportunity to become channels, channels of energy.

The other day, my own body once again underscored this truth: that within the body lies everything, not only our personal memories, but access to infinity, to that which we cannot see with our minds but know the truth of by our awareness.

If you wish, feel free to share or comment in the Post Comment section below.

Sending you all love and good wishes for fearless recapitulations.
Jan

A Day in a Life: Balance, Restless Dog & Broken Buddha

Last week I wrote about balance being important during a recapitulation process, but maintaining balance is of course important at all times. By balance I mean everything from keeping the body and mind healthy with good eating, sleeping, exercise, and stimulating mental activity, to living a thoughtful, compassionate, loving, aware existence in the world, as well as finding a spiritual practice that personally resonates and allows for exploration of the inner self.

For me, balance means all of these things and much more. I’m in balance when I have time for creative work and meditation, even if only for a few minutes during especially busy or stressful times. I’m in balance when I cook, delighting in preparing even the simplest meal with fresh ingredients, and being offered the opportunity to share it in the presence of good company. I’m in balance when I take a few minutes to walk the dog or stroll down the road on a sunny afternoon taking in what nature offers. I’m in balance when I’m focused on a task or project. I’m in balance when I do inner work, attending to what arises during the day to puzzle or challenge me. I’m in balance when I write this blog. However, I awoke feeling very out of balance this morning and with absolutely no idea what I would write about today.

The dog was restless all night. We wondered if she was perhaps letting us know that her time here is almost done. She’s old. Her legs are bad. She’s deaf. When she sits outside in the yard the vultures begin to circle overhead. We’ve been noticing this phenomenon for weeks now, their keen senses of smell and sight picking up on the vulnerabilities of an old animal who would be unable, at this stage of life, to survive out in the wild. During the night I heard the coyotes howling several times and I wondered if she heard them too, calling her to the next world, come to accompany her spirit on its next journey. I worried about letting her out during the night, though she insisted, knowing that they were out there on the prowl.

She has a tendency to wander off. Early this morning I let her out for the millionth time since the night began and went into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Most of the time she goes outside and just stands motionless or wanders around marking her territory then heads back to the front door to be let back in, it’s a predictable routine. This time when I went to let her back in, she was nowhere in sight. Pulling on my rubber boots I went outside to look for her, noticing that the night sky with its brilliant spread of gleaming stars was beginning to cloud over. I saw her heading toward the neighbor’s open garage and set off at a jog, hoping to head her off before they discovered me standing between their cars in my pajamas. Before I could catch her she darted inside. Embarrassed, I darted in after her and coming up behind grabbed her by the thick mane around her shoulders, surprising her. She whipped around and stared at me, as if to say, “What the heck!? What are you doing?” Which is what I said to her.

Stubbornly, almost digging her heels in, she reluctantly allowed me to push, drag, and shove her back into the house. A little while later, Chuck had left for the office and she needed to go out again. By this time I was beginning to feel extremely frustrated, more out of balance at each scratch at the door signaling her desire to go out. This time I put a leash on her and took her for a walk. Upon returning to the house she refused to come back inside with me, though it was beginning to rain. I left her sitting outside, her leash looped around the neck of the stone Buddha we have sitting in front of our entryway. That ought to keep her safe, I thought.

Every few minutes I checked on her. Like the Buddha she sat quietly, sedately, the grand dame, the queen surveying her land, seemingly contented. All of a sudden she got up and before I could get to her she had dragged the heavy stone Buddha off the step. It fell, smashing its head into the step below, severing it from the body. The dog stood there, unaware of what had just happened. I grabbed the leash before she could do anymore damage and just stood there looking down at the beloved Buddha, the calm sentinel marking our door for so many years, now broken.

The Buddha has always been a symbol of balance to me, serene and calm, he sits unmoving, nothing bothers him and now he’s lost his head! “What does this mean?” I moaned, absolutely regretting the moment I had decided he was strong enough to keep our big dog from wandering. What does it mean indeed? I placed the head back onto the shoulders, where it now sits quite comfortably again. You would never know it was broken simply by looking at it.

I pondered the meaning of the Buddha losing its head. Suddenly I saw the significance of it: he doesn’t need his head! In other words, the Buddha is not the Buddha because of his head. He is the Buddha because he practiced losing his head, by sitting in stillness, detaching from the foibles of the conjuring mind. The Buddha is the symbol of mindlessness, empty head, having finally achieved ultimate clarity, enlightenment, and freedom from the temptations, frustrations, and restless activities of this world.

I must face my own attachment to this beautiful stone Buddha. Though the Buddha has lost his head I must not weep. I must be as contented as Buddha. Even now, with head severed by restless dog, he sits perfectly still, keeping watch over our front yard, still presenting me with the utter calmness of balance that I seek. Or perhaps now truly symbolizing what it means to maintain balance in life, that no matter what comes along to interrupt the flow of our lives or knock our heads off we must learn to anchor ourselves in the inner peacefulness and joy of just being.

If you wish, feel free to share or comment in the Post Comment section below.

Sending you all love, good wishes, and balance.
Jan

A Day in a Life: Recapitulation & Balance

Maintaining balance may be the most important part of undertaking a recapitulation process. Entering into the unknown self or unknown realities is a very serious matter and should never be taken lightly. When I was very near the end of my recapitulation I had some frightening experiences that nearly freaked me out. Though I clearly understood that I had entered an alternate reality and that some evil entity was making a last ditch effort to recapture the energy that I had worked so hard to regain, it was not until I sat with Chuck at one of our regularly scheduled shamanic sessions that I was able to calm down and return to a sense of normality. Chuck calmly and softly said: “Don’t worry, Jan, the shamans have an explanation for everything you’ve been experiencing.” That alone was enough to calm me down and bring me back to reality, to tuck my fears away as we went on to explore in greater detail just what had happened and why.

In many of his books, Carlos Castaneda writes of don Juan being the sobering factor in many of his adventures into inner silence. Specifically, on pages 197-199 in The Active Side of Infinity he relates an experience he had with don Juan of going into inner silence and ending up walking in the Sonoran desert. He said that he could not speak during these adventures, that only don Juan, whose grave voice guided him when necessary, could talk. At the end of the experience, he writes the following:

Suddenly, I felt don Juan’s arm hooking my right arm and pulling me from the boulder. He said that it was time to go. The next moment, I was in his house again, in central Mexico, more bewildered than ever.

“Today, you found inorganic awareness, and then you saw it as it really is,” he said. “Energy is the irreducible residue of everything. As far as we are concerned, to see energy directly is the bottom line for a human being. Perhaps there are other things beyond that, but they are not available to us.”

Don Juan asserted all this over and over, and every time he said it, his words seemed to solidify me more and more, to help me return to my normal state. [End of quote.]

This captures many of my own experiences when working with Chuck during my recapitulation process. Over and over again he would bring me back to solidity, to balance in this reality with sharp calls to return to now, to the present moment, followed by sobering though at the time I thought rather “otherworldly” explanations of the experiences I was having.

Balance requires awareness. In the beginning of recapitulating it may be exceedingly productive and even crucial to have a seasoned guide, for it is very easy to get drawn into fear by foreign energy and get lost in the dramas of old memories, old situations, and old behaviors. It is also possible to get lost in other worlds, which it may take weeks to extricate oneself from. I had all of these kinds of experiences and many others during the three years when I did the bulk of my recapitulation. However, every time I had an experience and returned to balance in this reality, often grounded by Chuck’s pragmatic discussions of how the seers of ancient Mexico understood the universe, I gained and retained new awareness that I then utilized in further explorations.

Often I visualized balance as straddling a river, the river being this reality, the present, and either side of it, where my feet were planted, being my experiences. One foot was firmly planted in the past as I recapitulated and relived experiences from my entire life. The other foot was planted in a new world of awareness as I gained an understanding and perception that had previously been rejected and denied because of my need to control my world and be safe. Chuck seamlessly entered all three of those worlds with me, guiding me to truthfully observe my experiences in whatever reality I was in at the time, but then drawing me back into balance, sometimes quite forcefully as don Juan did Carlos, asking me to deeply study and bring into cohesion all three realities.

During my recapitulation I also learned that finding balance meant forging a connection to spirit, to the heart-centered inner guide. If I found myself in an unfamiliar world while recapitulating, in an alternate universe for instance, and could not figure out what I was supposed to do and was not able to talk to Chuck about it, I learned to rely on what my heart said was the right thing to do. This became a steady and reliable source of guidance during many uncomfortable and strange encounters. As I learned what my own energy felt like, absent of negative outside energy and old embedded energy planted in me by others and by life’s experiences, I was more quickly able to return to awareness and inner truth. The more I connected to my own inner spirit, the more anchored and aware I became, gaining not only increased self-confidence, but also a new sense of personal power.

It became increasingly easier to return to relying on the self with the more experiences I recapitulated. As old untruths gave way to previously hidden truths the reason for taking a recapitulation journey clearly revealed itself as the only way I was ever going to really change. I learned that my personal experiences belonged to me alone, for reasons that were meant for me to grow from, and even though others may have been involved it was up to me to take responsibility for dissecting from them my own life’s lessons.

Staying in balance is not only necessary during the process of recapitulation but is crucial to living a life of awareness. Without balance our lives may become scattered, stressed, unfocused, and we may even succumb to old habits and behaviors. In a dream last night I was shown how my personal energy is directly connected to remaining in balance. In this dream I had my hand on a square motherboard, slightly larger than my hand, of luminous energy connections. This motherboard was centered on a larger square, creating a mandala, held in place in the center of the back by a single metal spring soldered to the larger square, so that it was quite wobbly and shook when even lightly touched. When my hand was perfectly and lightly balanced in the center of the small board, the energy was fantastic, vibrating, glowing, and alive, but when I removed my hand the energy died immediately. If I shifted it slightly or removed a finger or two, the energy and the luminosity dimmed. It was clear to me that to be in perfect balance takes focus, attention, and awareness. It is not to be taken lightly. In understanding the precarious nature of being human, with little shifts here and there, I saw that my energy is really under my own control. I am responsible for remaining aware, each moment, of how I decide to use my energy or not. In the dream it was also clear to me that this motherboard was heart-centered and that this is where my connection to the energy of myself and the universe is to be found.

To remain in balance is to do so in reality, whatever that reality may be. As Carlos learned in working with don Juan, and as I learned in my shamanic work with Chuck, the more experiences I had in the seers’ world and in my own recapitulation the more I was able to navigate all realities with greater awareness and energy. Eventually, as Carlos, I became fully capable of taking journeys alone, able to see energy as it flows in the universe, and able to return to balance, without the guidance of another.

Perhaps the most rewarding part of doing a recapitulation is that one becomes open to life in a different way, perceiving and understanding the universe differently but also the self. I have certainly found that it has been far easier, and much more fun, to just be alive without the burdens of untruth that I carried for so many years. I humbly offer these blogs about recapitulation so that others may dare to journey into themselves and into other realities. Perhaps these experiences are helpful.

If you wish, feel free to share or comment in the Post Comment section below.

Sending you all love, good wishes, and balance.
Jan

NOTE: Books mentioned in this blog are available in our Store under the Shamanism category.

A Day in a Life: Recapitulation & The “Not I”

Once again I take up the subject of inorganic beings. Last week, in Recapitulation & Inorganic Beings I stressed the importance of familiarizing ourselves with our own energy and being able to recognize the good inorganic energy that is present in our lives, such as my own connection to Jeanne, an inorganic being on a mission of aiding those of us who are seeking to evolve, whom I am energetically compatible with. I also stressed the importance of recognizing the incessant chatter of the mind as inorganic energy. Today, I write about another type of inorganic being from the seers’ world of ancient Mexico, energy that wants something from us. Though it also wants to teach us something, its main intent is first and foremost to find a means of attaching to us, the ultimate goal being to siphon our awareness, our energy, for its own survival. However, our ultimate challenge, in all of these cases, is to train our awareness so that we may be in a position that is energetically strong, grounded, utterly sober and pragmatic, so that we may be able to navigate all worlds.

In The Active Side of Infinity and The Art of Dreaming don Juan teaches Carlos Castaneda about the power of inorganic beings. He tells him that they exist as outside forces, predatory beings that seek control of human awareness. He calls them scouts, probes from the universe looking for awareness. They are always present in some form. As I wrote about last week even our thoughts are considered, by the seers of ancient Mexico, to be inorganic beings, which they call Flyers and when they are busy chomping away at us, our thoughts swirling and driving us crazy, they refer to us as being in the throes of the Flyer’s Mind. The only recourse we have is to learn how to manipulate them to our best advantage, but this takes work in strengthening our awareness. On page 217 in The Active Side of Infinity don Juan says:

“There are scores of outside forces controlling you at this moment,” he says. “The control that I am referring to is something outside the domain of language. It is your control and at the same time it is not. It cannot be classified, but it can certainly be experienced. And above all, it can certainly be manipulated. Remember this: It can be manipulated, to your total advantage, of course, which again is not your advantage, but the energy body’s advantage. However, the energy body is you, so we could go on forever like dogs biting their own tails, trying to describe this. Language is inadequate. All these experiences are beyond syntax.”

During recapitulation we are given the opportunity to train our awareness through re-experiencing our pasts. This is the ultimate gift of doing a thorough and fearless recapitulation; our awareness not only grows, but eventually becomes a seamless and natural accompanist as we navigate our lives. During my own recapitulation I often met inorganic beings in dreams, often frighteningly odd creatures that captivated my attention. One day when I mentioned them to Chuck he told me not to focus on them. “They are the scouts in the universe looking to grab your awareness,” he said, “and take you back to an old place, attempting to usurp your energy for their own use.” I took this very seriously. Don Juan basically tells Carlos the same thing in The Art of Dreaming. On page 28 he says:

“…Dreaming has to be a very sober affair. No false movement can be afforded. Dreaming is a process of awakening, of gaining control. Our dreaming attention must be systematically exercised…”

Lately, perhaps because I have been reading and writing about them, inorganic beings have been appearing in my dreams. In one dream, Chuck and I travel to a Mexican desert town by car. Upon arrival at a crowded bus station we come upon two strange men covered from head to toe with yellow dirt. I know that they have been fighting and that we are in the midst of drug-related gang territory, that everyone at the bus station is somehow connected to a drug cartel. Chuck tosses them a towel from the car so they can wipe the sand off. At this point my awareness kicks in and I am immediately cautious. It is then that I begin to notice that everyone in this town is odd in some way and many of the people have large pumpkin shaped heads on skinny bodies. I thwart my gaze so that I do not look at anyone directly. The dream goes on, but the point I am making is that my awareness took note of the oddness of the situation and without hesitation took appropriate action to protect my energy. As opposed to earlier dreaming during my recapitulation when my awareness would speak to me, saying, “Don’t look!” at such times (essentially warning me, as Chuck had, to not get caught), now my awareness and I are in synch.

In a second dream, a tiny naked man, about a foot tall, appears several times, crossing slowly and suggestively back and forth in front of me, obviously trying to get my attention. He looks like a tiny skinny naked Waldo from the Where’s Waldo series of books. Once again my awareness takes note and without hesitation, my guard kicks in and I shift my gaze. I do not focus on him, though at an earlier stage in my awareness training I might have been very drawn to his comical appearance.

In a third dream, my mother appears, looking very odd, her head large, her features distorted, acting in an uncharacteristic manner. I immediately know that the inorganic beings are trying to trick me. They know that we are drawn to attach to those who are most familiar, yet my awareness is immediately aroused by this strange version of my mother. I do not fall for the attempted trickery. Again, I turned my gaze downward and watch sideways through my eyelashes as this odd being does some exceedingly strange things, not at all like my mother in her true form. Eventually she meets up with two strange looking men whom she links arms with and the three of them go wildly dancing and skipping down the street, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz prancing down the yellow brick road with the lion and the scarecrow. Without attachment I turn away and go back into the dream that had been unfolding before I was interrupted.

In these examples, I stress the importance of being aware, of training our awareness. And how do we do that? The first thing is to understand the “Not I” of our dreams. Jung suggests that everything in our dreams is us, but he also cautions that we must learn about archetypal energy so that we do not get caught by it. In essence, he warns us to not engage the collective unconscious, inorganic beings, until we are ready, even though archetypal energy seeks us out all the time. As don Juan suggests to Carlos regarding inorganic beings: they exist all the time and they are trying to control us; which is equally true for the archetypes that exist in the collective unconscious.

So, by questioning what is “Not I” we begin a process of inner work that eventually will lead to recognizing the scouts, the inorganic beings that come to us in whatever shape or form they may use. Their attempts may be very personal, they may come in the form of our biggest fears or they may be comical, clownish attempts to attract our attention. We can begin training this aspect of recognition by intending this step before we dream or even before we begin our day. Perhaps a simple mantra will do: Please help me to recognize and be aware of that which is “Not I” in my dreams and in my life, or something like that.

The next step is to decide what to do about these inorganic beings once we do recognize them as “Not I.” Don Juan says that it is always an individual’s choice what to do with them, but he also cautions not to engage them until we have enough energy and awareness or we risk getting into trouble. As Jung suggests, engaging the collective unconscious without doing our homework can lead to psychosis. The dangers are that we might get fascinated by them, that we might get inflated and think we can handle them, or that we might underestimate them, seeing them as harmless and funny. It is equally important to not get frightened by them and run away. If we are indeed to gain awareness, we must learn to stand our ground. Here are some practical precautions, as inorganic beings approach in dreaming and perhaps in real time as well:

Don’t play with them.

Don’t stare at them.

Don’t draw them to you.

Don’t engage or speak to them.

Don’t throw yourself at something you don’t understand.

Be suspicious and cautious.

Protect your energy.

Learn to use the inorganic beings that appear in dreaming and in life to strengthen awareness. In strengthening our dreaming awareness we eventually arrive at a place where we can begin to engage what appears so strange and mysterious in our dreams, but from a place of power, just as we train our awareness to recognize the Flyer’s Mind in our everyday reality. This training leads to appropriate detachment and new stores of energy that we can then use for ourselves alone.

When we get to this place of strength, with enough personal power to navigate the world of the inorganic beings and the collective unconscious, when we are naturally more aware, acting from instinct and knowledge, our journey becomes fascinating rather than frightening. When we have worked with our personal energy, successfully contained and trained it, then are we ready to find out why the inorganic beings are present and what they are trying to tell us. For they do in fact have something to teach us, they come to challenge us, but they also want payback. They give, but they also take. There is always an exchange and until we are prepared and strong enough, we may get ourselves into trouble, caught in energy draining unawareness.

I have been aware of the inorganic beings in both my dreaming world and my everyday world for a long time now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get caught by them. Again and again we fall for their trickery, we let them entertain us, and we get caught in old habits of repetitive behavior that keep us stuck. There is always the opportunity to learn from them, but the first challenge is always the same, and it resides in the choices we make. For even though we may have learned to recognize the inorganic beings in our lives, we are still apt to engage them, inflatedly thinking that we can outwit them this time. Or even, as I have been doing in my dreams, avoiding them, perhaps because of an underlying fear of what they might have to tell us about ourselves, or because we fear they may take us into unknown territory.

Fortunately, being the seekers that we are, we eventually get the message that it’s time to confront our nemeses and take our awareness to a new level. And that is what I intend to do next in my dreams. At least I think I might do that, but of course I may decide at the last minute that I’m not ready yet, and that’s okay too!

If you wish, feel free to share or comment in the Post Comment section below.

Sending you all love and good wishes; and watch out for those inorganic beings!
Jan

NOTE: Books mentioned in this blog are available in our Store under the Shamanism category.