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One of the (very) few joys of living in Los Angeles is the LA Library Bookstore, a tiny room in each location reserved for selling books, fifty cents for paperbacks, a dollar for hardbacks. For avid readers it is a goldmine. I have basically gone completely apeshit in the construction of a personal library of a thousand titles. I even found a book entitled “A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books.” I’m in good company. The gentle madness is shared by millions. I started buying titles about five years ago when I dropped my four-year-old daughter off at the local pre-school summer camp, just down the street from our library. I’ve probably contributed about 300 titles to my bookshelves over the last five years and what I now possess is a collection that would yield the equivalent of a complete liberal arts education. It started out as a personal exercise in filling gaps in my undergrad education, titles I could read as an elderly man in a rocking chair, but it soon developed into something for my child; a complete reference library that would suit the entirety of her educational needs without ever having to leave the house, or a hard-copy library that could outlive the Los Angeles Unified School District or western civilization itself. (How to airlift the collection to my off-the-grid Taoist eco-village in the Canadian Rockies is another subject.) Having spent endless hours organizing the titles I’ve settled on a chronological system; astronomy first, followed by physics, mathematics, and chemistry and then moving along to earth sciences of geology and global climate change. Biology is up next, followed by the rest of the life sciences, ecology, zoology and the emergence of humankind. Social and behavioral sciences follow, all the history, all the psych and sociology, along with the humanities – art, music, literature (150 of the world’s most popular novels) – and then an explosion of titles of my favorite subjects; Asian Studies, Buddhism and Taoism, humanistic geography, California geography, evolutionary psychology, evolution, fascism and religious fundamentalism. Two shelves are dedicated to non-fiction, current events, and any other titles that defy my ability to classify. Hiding in my bedroom are two bookcases full of literature and self-help, six versions of the Tao te Ching and twelve versions of The Art of War, and all the fucking material I’ve decided I need in order to become a world-class screenwriter. But some days, I’d rather just be a hermit in the mountains. Oh, and let’s not forget a half dozen titles on how not to be a shitty father and husband and why consumer capitalism and addiction are one and the same. And let’s not forget Ken Wilber and consciousness studies and… yeah… at one book a week, twenty years of reading. I’ll be in my 80s soon enough. What I’ve discovered from my formal and informal education, what seems a common thread that weaves in and out of multiple subjects is the general trajectory toward enlightenment. Whether it’s mastering your diet or learning how to defend yourself, designing an eco-village or creating democratic land use policy, becoming an accomplished pianist or a better parent and husband, saving your soul or saving the planet, waking the fuck up seems to be implicit and necessary. You won’t have a black belt and maintain 10% bodyfat without enormous control over your emotions, your instincts, your capacity to manage time and energy. Your ideal eco-village won’t work unless your fellow villagers mandate emotional growth and maturity. And it certainly seems necessary that in order for human life to remain viable we have to become masters of our imaginations and servants of the web of life. We have to figure out a plausible trajectory from being traumatized to becoming enlightened, and we need to get busy. A global awakening seems like the missing ingredient but other writers have already written this off as just another pipe dream, the wishful thinking of a desperate species. I am not entirely convinced that a plausible, ecologically sustainable, and spiritually satisfying lifestyle has been conceived and presented to the unwashed masses. I believe a compelling vision of the genuine pursuit of happiness can replace our morally nauseating pursuit of pleasure. A robust alternative to wage slavery, hamburgers, and porn is waiting in the wings. We just have to live the experiment, take copious notes, make adjustments and be courageous enough to share it despite the risk of ridicule and rejection. What will you do this day that is sustainable and wise? What actions will you jettison from your behavior? I’ve heard it said that practicing enlightenment is being enlightened. Sitting on your zafu, bombarded with thoughts, is still enlightened conduct, yes? Okay – I’ve written my 750 words for the day. Taobums has always been a great vehicle for aspiring writers to pursue their daily word count. As they say, from quantity comes quality. Thanks Taobums!

@Moderator team should this Buddhist Deity thread should really be in the Buddhist sub-forum? But yes, there are literally thousands of texts which extol the benefits of chanting Hindu Deity names. Here are a few -- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lalita_Sahasranama https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kali-Saṇṭāraṇa_Upaniṣad https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vishnu_Sahasranāma#Merits_of_recitation I've experienced very profound effects of chanting a sacred Vishnu mantra given to me by a Yogi in a dream 18 years back -- both spiritually as well as in my everyday life.

Just wanted to post this. I have been reading about my self being seperate from my body and my mind, and even though I have reached the third stage of Thusness, the experiences of being everything and nothing seemingly only brought me into those moments of trance. Now today, I had been chanting the Avalokiteshwara Bodhisattva mantra, without any expectations. I only hoped that it would help me retain my awareness in sleep. I really wanted fly around in my dreams.. Anyway, I don't exactly remember as to what I saw in my dream but now that I think of it, it feels as though some profound realization just crossed my mind. I was there, looking at an anime character doing cross talks with a girl, and as I looked at this guy, I went into a trance and started thinking that I was him. This was so, that when he was happy, I was happy. When he was sad, I was sad. When he was acting funny, I thought I was the one acting funny. This continued on for a long time since neither the guy, nor the girl he was talking to seemed to realize my existence. Then, I realized that there had been an additional character all along. It was a girl in purple. I had ignored her until now, but the moment I focused at her, she looked at me (the real me and not the anime character). She told me to breath in a particular way (don't remember any of it). Finally, she wished me goodbye, saying that my dream was about to end. I calmly listened as though it was the most normal think in the universe. Now that I am awake, I understand that I had always been like that. I read and listened to the enlightened beings, flashlights flashed in my head but then, when I involved myself with the world around me, things seemed to get a bit out of control. I knew I wasn't the body or the mind, but it was still completely blurry and unclear. It still is, but I now know that I can wipe it clean. Somehow, someday, I will do it. Was it a divine providence? My own subconscious? Who cares! I am going to continue with the recitation no matter what!

I quite appreciate the input on this, as I, myself, am unsure exactly what it was. It was certainly not a "dream", and I don't believe it was "astral projection". Recovering those memories is half of what allowed me to start my journey in this life, as I grew up with an intense hatred and disgust for religion in general, though most of what I had been exposed to up until that point was Christianity and Judaism. I was an extremist, militant atheist. As that was the case, it would have been hard for me to even accept the idea of something that most people could not see, nor would I have been able to accept the idea of cultivation, qi, gods, demons, ghosts, magic, or any of the other phenomena that have become everyday to me. I began studying to figure out what it was, but I still don't have a concrete answer! Would it be taboo for me to ask how you accessed the written bits? I've not had direct access to the records via projection myself, so I'm not entirely familiar with the process, but I've never heard them express it in written language. This kind of thing very much intrigues me. As interest grows, so do the number of parasites of topics. Unfortunately, fanaticism is quite easy to fall into. I do indeed hope to move to Japan and I also hope to teach, so I may use the JET program, but I hope I would at least be a good teacher for the students. Students learn from their teachers, whether the teacher is good or not; this is part of the reason America is having issues currently, as we do not have sufficient incentives for capable teachers, though I digress. I'll need to finish my degree before I can even look at that option, either way. If it is here to give a positive message, it would be wrong to send it away, but if it is here for itself, would it also be wrong to send it away? I've always had trouble comprehending morals. I would think that if someone were to come and cleanup a lot of the haunting hotspots, it would be an overall good thing, but I don't quite know if it's acceptable to exercise power that way.

The next day, the bear related everything to his wife. And this she-bear said that the topic of sung breathing and the blue electricity, water and the monkey king reminded her of a dream that she had had herself, some years ago. And in this dream, the she-bear did not know that she was dreaming, but simply exiting her cave at midnight. Before the cave there was a great, tall tree which normally was not there. At the base of this tree--this entire scene lit by moonlight--she saw a pool of water. A bubble broke on the surface of the water and a sound of music erupted when the bubble burst. As this was a dream, the she-bear simply knew to jump into the pool, that she might find something immensely valuable at its bottom. So she did, and as she sank she realized that this little pool of water was incredibly deep, and down and down she sank. Darker and colder the water became, which she could sense from every hair in her coat. Before at last hitting the sand at the bottom of the dark, she heard yet more of the same music, faint at first. A small light appeared and grew larger as the music also became louder and more clear. When she noticed that the light was in fact the presence of the Monkey King, she simultaneously noticed that all of this water is made of air. When he reached her, the she-bear noticed that the music that had drawn her there came from the Monkey King's mouth; the music ceased and he smiled, told her telepathically that he had waited many nights for her there, at the bottom of the pool. That he'd had a dream that the she-bear would fall in, and that she would not be able to swim back to the surface without him, and that he should wait for her, which he did. Before picking her up and flying them both to the water's surface, he also said telepathically that he has come for her before in other incarnations, that he would come for her again, wherever she was, no matter how deep, no matter how far, etc, etc. When they reached the land, they saw yet more bubbles appearing on the water surface. Then golden light, and then pink, and music began to play of a calming sort all about them. The Monkey King multiplied himself and surrounded the area, all 84,000 of him wielding the dragon staff, as a great bubble rose and broke on the surface, revealing a huge, flying lotus flower, upon which sat a Bodhisattva: Manjushri, smiling and wielding a flaming sword. The Monkey Kings went to attack when Manjushri smiled and a pinkness flooded the air all about, the air which revealed itself to be water. And this pinkness said to them, "Ah, 84,000 Monkey Kings, like the 84,000 dharma gates of my underwater kingdom, like the 84,000 hairs in this bear's coat!" And with a sound of Shanti, Manjushri bid them all to Be at peace. A sound of 'A Ra Pa Ca Na' pervaded the water/air about them, and the lights of silver, gold, and platinum which Manjushri played with in his hand were then passed unto the She-Bear, whose name was Glory, when Manjushri placed one finger upon her forehead and said, "Remember: I am with you. Always." Each of the 84,000 Monkey Kings bowed and uttered the syllable: Dhih! And with that, she woke up.

Lower down on this very same tree there sat a third monkey, who had listened in on everything. This monkey had insomnia, and scratched out the entire thing onto a collection of coconut shells. And he kicked each shell off his branch, one by one, one for every hour that he could not sleep. On a yet lower branch, another monkey would catch these...weird coconut shells with all these words scratched on them. And this monkey read what had been scratched and said aloud, "You know I don't agree with this use of dimensions, 8-d and all that. This person does not seem to know what they are talking about." The next day this same monkey found his friend, a bear, who lived elsewhere in the forest. The bear sat with the words for a while, made some tea and served it to them both, sat down and then said that he had had a dream some time earlier about a kind of blue electric energy. The bear said that this energy seemed connected with dragon, but perhaps dragon expressing through a different flavor of expression, a different animal. Anyway, said the bear, the animal who had appeared in the dream, via a visual pun, indicated that 'Sung' breathing would cultivate the relationship with this energy. "But that was my dream," said the bear. "And, as we both know," he said to his monkey friend, "I am a bear. And bears differ from other bears, as well as from other species. Now if you'll excuse me," he said, farting as he said it, which made them laugh.

The Tale of Leap the Elk and Little Princess Cottongrass – illustrated by John Bauer (A translation of ‘Sagan om älgtjuren Skutt och lilla prinsessan Tuvstarr’ written by Helge Kjellin) The sun is shining like gold on the meadow of Dream Castle. It is summer, and the grass has a thousand fragrant blossoms. A little girl, rosy and delicate, sits among all the flowers, combing her long, yellow pale hair. It sifts like summer gold through her small fingers. A golden crown is lying in the meadow beside her. The girl is the princess of Dream Castle, and today she has slipped away from the high, stately chamber where her father, the king, and her mother, the queen, sit on golden chairs, with sceptre and orb, to rule their people. She wishes to be alone and free, and has come to the flowering meadow to play. The meadow has always been her playground. The princess is small and slim, still a child. She sits there in a gown whiter than white, made of silk and satin and muslin as thin as gauze. Princess Cottongrass—that is what they call her. She combs her hair with her small, thin fingers, and smiles at the shining strands. An elk snuffs and stalks past. She lifts her eyes. “Oh, who are you?” “I am Longleg Leap. What do they call you?” “I am Princess Cottongrass.” She lifts the crown from the meadow to show that it is so. The elk stops to look at the princess long and searchingly, then lowers its head. “You are beautiful, little one.” The princess rises and moves closer. She leans towards the elk’s trembling muzzle and strokes it gently. “How big and stately you are. And you have a crown, too. Let me come with you. Let me sit behind your neck, and then carry me out into life.” The elk hesitates. “The world is big and cold, little child, and you are so small. The world is full of evil and wickedness, and it will hurt you.” “No, no. I am young and warm. I have warmth enough for everyone. I am small and good, and want to share the good I have.” “Princess, the forest is dark and the roads are dangerous.” “But you are with me. You are great and strong, and can easily defend us both.” The elk tosses its head and shakes its mighty crown of horns. Its eyes look fiery. The princess claps her small hands. “Good, good. But you are too tall—bend down so that I can climb up.” Obediently, the elk lies down and soon the princess is sitting securely on its back. “I am ready, and now you must show me the world.” It rises slowly, afraid of unseating the little one. “Hold on tight to my horns.” And it sets off with leaps and bounds. The princess has never had more fun. There are so many new and beautiful things to see. She has never been beyond the meadow at Dream Castle before, and now they are running over hill and dale, over plains and mountains. “Where are you taking me?” she asks. “To Forest Moss,” Leap answers. “I live there. No one comes there and it is a long way off.” Evening is coming and the princess is hungry and sleepy. “Are you changing your mind already?” teases the elk. “It’s too late to turn around. But don’t be afraid. Wonderful berries in the marsh where I live. You can eat them.” They travel a while, when the forest begins to thin, and the princess looks out over a mile-long marsh, where tufts of sedge come together in soft hollows and hillocks, and where the little stunted bushes on the bank haven’t the courage to follow. “Here we are,” says Leap, and bends down so that the princess can dismount. “Now we shall have supper.” Immediately the princess forgets all about sleep and begins to jump lightly from tuft to tuft, just like Leap, to pick the delicious big berries. She and Longleg Leap share them delightedly. Leap says, “We must hurry on before it gets too dark,” and once again Princess Cottongrass climbs on to his broad back. Leap sets off, surefooted, across the marsh, stepping confidently on the tuft as if he knows they will hold him. After all, he was born there. “Who is that dancing there?” asks the princess. “They are the elves. But be careful of them. They seem sweet and friendly, but never trust them. Remember what I tell you: don’t speak to them, but hold tight on my horns and pretend you don’t notice them.” Yes, the princess promises, she will. But the elves have already caught sight of them. They come forward and circle around and dance up and down in front of the elk, floating tantalizingly close to the little princess. But remembering what Leap has just told her, she clings to his horns with all his might. “Who are you, who are you?” ask the elves. Hundreds of questions are all around, and the princess feels them like the cold breath of the wind, but she does not answer. Then the tiny elves, in their white veils, become bolder. They tug at her dress and her long yellow hair. Leap snorts and begins to run. Suddenly the princess realizes that the golden crown on her head is slipping, and she is afraid it will fall off—imagine what Father-king and Mother-queen, who gave it to her, would say—and she forgets what Leap told her and calls to the elves, at the same time letting go one hand to clasp her crown. At that moment the elves have power over her—not altogether, because she still clings to the elk’s horn with one hand, but with joyous mocking laughter they snatch the shining crown from her head and float away over the marsh. “Oh, my crown, my crown,” moans Princess Cottongrass. “Why didn’t you obey me?” Leap scolds her. “You have only yourself to blame. Probably you will never get your golden crown back, but you are lucky it was not worse.” Yet the princess cannot imagine anything that is worse than what has just happened. Leap walks on, and soon she spies a clump of small trees on an island in the middle of the marsh. “Here is where I live,” says Leap. “This is where we shall sleep.” Soon they are there. The low hill rises above the marsh, and it is dry and delightful among the fir trees and pines. The princess kisses her dear friend Leap good-night, undresses, and hangs her gown neatly on a branch. She lies down and is soon asleep, with the long-legged elk to stand guard over her. It is almost night, and a few small stars are twinkling in the sky. Next morning the princess is awakened by the soft touch of the elk’s muzzle on her forehead. She jumps up quickly, stretches naked in the golden-red morning light, and then collects some dew drops to drink in her hands. A small chain, with a golden heart on it is hanging from her neck and catches the sunlight like fire. “Today I will go bare,” she exclaims. “I will carry my dress in front of me and then you will carry me on your back and show me more of the world.” “Yes,” says the elk, unable to deny her anything. It had been awake all night watching over the strange, white little girl on the ground, and that morning there had been tears in its eyes. It did not understand why, except it felt autumn approaching and was seized by a longing to do battle and a desire not to be alone anymore. Suddenly it dashes away into the forest. The fair-haired princess finds it very difficult to hold on. Branches whip her face and shoulders, and the little golden heart dances on its chain. But before long, Leap calms down and slackens his pace. Now they are traveling through a large, strange forest. The long branches of the firs are covered with hanging moss, the tree roots bend like snakes and large, lichen-covered boulders seem to threaten them from the side of the path. The princess has never seen such a queer place before. “What is that moving deep in the woods?” she asks. “I think I see long green hair and a pair of white arms waving to me.” “It is the witch of the woods,” says Leap. “Answer her politely, but by no means ask her for anything; and whatever you do, hold tight to my horns.” Yes, the princess promises, she will hold on tight. Now the witch glides closer. She does not want to show herself entirely; she always hides half way behind a tree. Curiously and slyly she peers at the elk and the girl. The princess scarcely dares look that way; but she can tell that the witch has icy green eyes and a mouth red as blood. Then the witch begins to slither from tree to tree, following the elk as it runs. She knows Leap well, but is puzzled by the little white one with the golden hair. Suddenly she calls, “What is your name?” “I am Princess Cottongrass, of Dream Castle.” The girl answers shyly, taking care not to ask the witch’s name. Of course, she knows who it is. “What are you carrying in front of you?” the witch asks. “It is my finest gown,” replies the princess, with a little more courage. “Oh, let me see it,” the witch begs. Of course she may, and the princess lets go with one hand to show the witch her white dress. She should never have done so, for in a trice the witch has snatched the dress and disappeared into the forest. “Why did you let go of my horns?” says Leap. “If you had let go with both hands, you would have had to follow the witch, and probably have never come back.” “But my dress, my dress,” sobs Princess Cottongrass. Yet after a while, she forgets it, and the day passes, and that night the princess sleeps under the fir trees with Leap standing quietly beside her to keep watch. When she wakes in the morning, the elk is gone. “Leap, Longleg Leap, where are you?” she calls fearfully, and jumps up. Here he comes, breathing heavily, through the undergrowth. He has been on top of a hill, looking east, sniffing the air, and he has scented something. What? He cannot tell, but his coat is wet and his legs are trembling. He seems to want to move on, and bends down to let the princess climb on his back. Then they are gone in a rush, galloping east. He hardly hears when she calls to him, and rarely answers. As if in a fever he breaks through the tangled forest at a furious rate. “Where are we going?” asks Princess Cottongrass. “To the pool,” is the answer. “Deep in the forest is a pool, and that is where I go when autumn is coming. No person has ever been there, but you shall see it.” Abruptly the tree trunks open up, and here is the water, shining brown-black with flecks of greenish gold. “Hold on tight,” Leap warns. “There is danger under the water. Watch your golden heart.” “Yes, what strange water,” says the princess, bending forward to look more closely—but, oh dear, at that moment the chain with the golden heart slips over her head and drops into the pool. “Oh, my heart, the golden heart that my mother gave me the day I was born. Oh, what shall I do?” She is quite inconsolable. She stares at the water looking for her heart. “Come,” says Leap, “It is dangerous for you here. Looking for one thing, you will forget everything else.” But the princess wants to stay, she must find her heart. “Go, my friend. Let me sit here alone. I know I shall find the heart.” She flings her arms about his bent head, kisses it, and strokes it softly. Then, small and slim and undressed, she goes and sits down on a grassy hillock. For a long time the elk stands quite still and looks at the small girl. But when she no longer seems to notice that he is there, he turns and, with hesitant steps, he disappears into the forest. Many years have passed. Still Princess Cottongrass sits and looks wonderingly into the water for her heart. She is no longer a little girl. Instead, a slender plant, crowned with white cotton, stands leaning over the edge of the pool. Now and then the elk returns, stops, and looks at it tenderly. Only he knows that this is the princess from Dream Castle. Perhaps she nods and smiles, for he is an old friend, but she does not want to follow him back; she cannot follow anymore, as long as she is under the spell. The spell lies in the pool. Far, far under the water lies a lost heart.

I could probably talk endlessly on this thread but I'll just list some of my favorites- The Stars My Destination and The Demolished Man by Alfred Bester The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch by Philip K Dick The Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories of Fritz Leiber Clark Ashton Smith, especially his decadent Xothique tales/ prose poems Angela Carter's short stories, especially The Bloody Chamber collection Pu Songling's Liaozhai Zhiyi Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness, The Shadow Out of Time, and the Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath Lord Dunsany stories and his novel The King of Elfland's Daughter Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun Robert E Howard's Conan stories Short stories of Nikolai Gogol The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov And, if fairy tales and folklore count, I could list lots more stuff. My single favorite probably being Padraic Colum's Irish fairy tale novel The King of Ireland's Son

I agree with Luke (above) that if this is continuing you should go see a doctor. You do say though that this was years ago - did you mean it's still happening? Generally speaking though I would say that your body/mind has ways of assimilating energy experiences which can often result in vivid imagery - sometimes dream-like and sometimes more real feeling. It's important not to get panicked by this kind of thing and try to see it as being both real and unreal at the same time. The mind interprets things symbolically so it might be worth researching the structure of the subtle body (in Daoist systems for instance), the function of the glands in your head and the meaning of serpents and so on in mythology. You can probably do a lot of this on line. The more you understand about what is happening the more you will be able to assimilate and purify the experience. However if you feel frightened or distressed then seek medical advice as soon as you can. Then if they say there is no physical cause try to find a reliable yoga or qi gong (or other) teacher who might be able to help you.

It's good to dream this way. The amygdala releases negative unhealthy and incoherent thoughts during deep sleep. ( link ) It's also good to stop trying to help others. From a karmic perspective, helping others removes their opportunity to redeem themselves. It's a double whammy, so to speak. It harms both them and you even though the intention is good. The best anyone can do, imo, is heal themselves and then help others to heal themselves. But trying to heal someone else, not oneself is like walking a tight-rope... That is the middle path, the grey path. I'm proposing the Right Hand Path. Heal ourselves. Help others to heal themselves. Teach them to fish... so to speak. But never to do the fishing for them. Does that make sense? It is a way of surrendering the fate of others while also not surrendering the fate of others. It's a loophole in the karmic system which can be exploited virtuously. Perhaps it, the loophole, could be named ..."doing good and turning away from evil without interference in The Eternal Dao"?

Thank you Daniel, I have been doing what you are suggesting on my own initiative, except for the stop thinking of making a difference for others. The curse has been in recess for a little while now, though not entirely; my mind is still being adjusted by the demon, and I often fall into depression- at least there are no more hallucinations. What concerns me now are my dreams. I dream I am being hazed or initiated, into a group that is violent. I dream of weapons, myself using them too, to prove myself. I dream a lot of strange things, strange landscapes, and none of them comforting to the heart.

Cyd Charisse had childhood polio and was told that she would never walk again. But, her dream was to become a dancer. She did self-therapy, with an indomitable will and became one of the greatest dancers, in the world and those legs!

I read Handmaid's Tale in high school and it was a little too similar to reality at the time because this was before 9/11. Hated Oryx and Crake though because I had a similar relationship where I was the "snowman" in the friendship with my own Crake and have a hard time bringing myself to finish the Mad Adam trilogy. Don't know why you hate Dune, but to each their own. Haven't read much of Martin beyond Fevre Dream actually.

Not sure if this is applicable, but I've often had visions in luminous blue space as well as beings with blue color visiting me (mainly in dream teachings). I also often see my inner space in that electric blue color. I've met a few people who told me they see their inner space in that color. The first time was as follows -- I had many years prior (almost 22-23 years ago), at the beginning of my serious spiritual journey had a vision in which I found myself floating in the darkness of space, and then saw a bluish tinged part of space where I was pulled toward. When I reached there, I saw an enormous luminous electric blue egg crackling with energy (seemed to me like electricity like one can see in a tesla coil). As I watched it, it started to rotate. I saw Lord Krishna and the Buddha in alternate rotations of the egg. And the egg started to rotate faster and faster and then at such an incredible speed that it became a blur, and then it exploded. As it exploded, I saw stars and galaxies flying past me. Then again many times, visitations by blue beings. And then, again a few years back, I had a profound experience wherein during meditation I was simultaneously in the physical world, an astral world, and then also this blue dimension/space. I found myself going to this blue space and was surprised to find the blue egg again. This time, there were several beings around the egg, floating in lotus posture around the egg. At the top was Babaji (of Kriya yoga fame). Around him, in clockwise direction were Lahiri Mahashaya, Yuketshwar Giri, Paramahamsa Yogananda, Ramana Maharshi, and Guru Nanak. I approached Babaji to seek a blessing, and as I went to touch him, he picked me up in his hand and swallowed me whole. I found myself flying through a wormhole of golden light, for what seemed like a long time, and then finally fell into a brilliant golden sun. I was a particle of Golden light, and I became one with the sun. And then after what seemed like a very long time, I fell through the sun into total darkness. As I looked around, I saw a blue luminous space very far away. And as soon as I thought of going closer, I found myself there. It was Lord Vishnu, lying down on the body of the serpent Sheshanaga -- sleeping. As I looked on, suddenly I found myself sitting in the full lotus posture within a lotus. The lotus was rising out of Vishnu's navel.

From my observations and contemplations I can definitely say we are not our thoughts alone. I believe that there is some kernel of a thing within us that collects our experiences, and that we have an alternative set of experiences we arent truly aware of that it encounters. I think this kernel of a thing, call it a soul if you like, generates our thoughts. Its influenced by our bodies actions and our minds choices, but it exists in another plane. For me, this plane is infinite; I have no static home, Ive seen in vision and dream many scenarios, and been told many things, things that do not necessarily correlate into one themed Universe. I think it is possible there is a home for this kernel of a thing after death, but I cannot be certain. Ive often thought that we are born with this kernel, that this kernel is us, and that our waking state is unawares of the going on within us, but is influenced by its memory.

In Algonquin, “wendigo” translates roughly to “the evil spirit that devours mankind.” According to legend, these emaciated monsters with matted hair and decaying skin were made when a person cannibalized another. They became transformed into a wendigo with an insatiable appetite for human flesh. The Cree developed a dance to help them deal with the nightmare of these cannibalistic creatures. The Wihtikokansimoowin involves satirical portrayals of the man-eating monster and valiant portrayals of wendigo hunters. Legend holds that the Cree’s “Wendigo-like Dance” was performed during periods of famine to reinforce the gravity of their cannibalism taboo. Conceived in a dream, the dance was first performed by the Assiniboine tribe. The Cree eventually adopted it and incorporated it into their Sun Dance ritual. It is always performed on the last day of the celebration. The last known Wihtikokansimoowin in the United States occurred at Leech Lake Indian Reservation in Northern Minnesota.

Just be moderate in sexual activity. Avoid pornography. Remember that this stuff (alchemy, meditation, spiritual cultivation) is not an easy thing to achieve. It’s very much the pinnacle of human achievement. Despite what many modern teachers suggest. They have a profit motive You know how you see the discipline and sacrifice it takes to be an Olympian? It’s similar with these more advanced arts. Its normal to be inspired by Olympians and be motivated to exercise for a bit every week and have a moderate, healthy lifestyle... but don’t expect to win gold at the olympics. I get that this might sound disheartening or demotivating... but I personally think it’s better to hear the truth than to be sold a dream that just wastes your time - or worse. If you want to live a normal life, have late nights, drink, smoke weed, watch porn, see other humans as ‘boing-boing‘ etc... then just do that and enjoy yourself... maybe practice some simple qigong or martial arts, get strong, develop some self discipline etc. This is a great start. At some stage in your life maybe you’ll be ready to get into the more in-depth practices like alchemy, MCO, meditation etc. These things are simply not for everyone - just as being an olympic swimmer is not for everyone. Doing these things before you and your lifestyle are ready means that your lifestyle suffers and your practice is not only ineffective but potentially dangerous! We regularly get people coming to this forum that have developed really serious issues - mental and physical from doing Chia’s practices (and from other similar teachers).

Hmmm...could be. It's like the description says. And these people, at least the ones I think have blue elements really love pixar movies, and that kind of thing. You know. With that energy. It's the kind of thing they like. And I haven't met one yet who didn't adore disneyland. I know what you're going to say we all love disneyland. But, with them it's different. They carry that with them. If you know what I mean. It's almost as if they carried that energy on them. That blue, energy. And a sort of toy story vibe. It's the kind of honesty you dream people had in real life. But it seems only they have it. Indigo or not. They're sensitive. But a sensitivity that's true. Not a drama of a tele novela where you want to hang yourself. No. These people are real. But indigo people, if we're talking about the same thing, are often considered childish by others: regular folks. They like to hang out with aspergers a lot, I noticed. Perhaps because of their sensitivity. But I think also to not get hurt. ps: oh. And also another observation. But I don't really have a big sample. They seem to love marijuana. And I was speculating with myself that perhaps marijuana acted differently on blue people and made the soul grow. But in a different way to regular people.

Awareness always seems to be from the center. From within... Whether dream, or 'reality'.

I think im in trouble. This is not a welll edited post i keep hallucinating when it is time to sleep when i close my eyes to varying degrees. it starts as pictures but then i lose myself in it. So its either a hallucination. Or a semi dream while not being fully asleep ive been waking up talking to people the last 2 days the electricity behind my eyes got bad and my eyes roll slightly to the side and i kept waking up and think im slightly convulsing as well as was fullblown hallucinating with my eyes closed 1day ago i called The doctor to say i may be having psychosis red flags.. all they done is referr me to a psychiatrist weeks from now Then today i called that i dont think its psychosis but that My eyes are rollling to the side, thst i feel electricity in my head n that im having some kind of convulsions in my sleep thst wake me up still shaking. And that i had full blown hallucinations the doctor called with the crisis team, and the neurologist. And the neurologist decided this wasnt anything acute and that i have an appointment in 2 weeks i havent slept alll night i went to the emergency room whike i waited because i was afraid to fall asleep what do i do with this?????? They refuse to look at me. And i dont know where to find an acupuncturist either beyond that the hallucinations have been scary seeing alot of scary faces n things even when its just pictures and i accidently tell them things because i cant controll my toughts things like i invite you in. And then i see disturbing things im completely sound of mind when im awake, Now im scared for my health n the fact that im saying all these kind of things to demonic looking creatures. what if they really are spirits? N not hallucinations i dont know what to do what do you do in a situation like this????

There are differences and there are similarities, between cultures, between families, between individuals. We can focus on either but it is important not to focus on one or the other exclusively, otherwise we restrict our potential. Texts do not rely on commentaries, people rely on commentaries. Zhuangzi is capable of speaking across millennia, bridging language and culture, communicating very directly and personally. We are the ones that need to be open and prepared to hear what he has to say. Certainly there are challenges but when you hear what he is saying, you know. When he speaks of the archer going blind when he is more focused on the prize than the act of releasing his bow, I know exactly what he is saying, as does every soccer pro who ever missed a penalty shot, or golfer that missed a 2 foot putt. When he speaks of the ambiguity of waking and dreaming, the sudden feeling of uncertainty, of mystery and possibility is unmistakable and pure. No need for commentary or cultural translation. While I agree that there is value in cultural and linguistic coloration, subtlety, and precision, it is not an all or none proposition. I think you are selling yourself and others short, especially the old masters who wrote down these profound lessons. There is a reason why these teachings are held so dear that they are passed down for hundreds and thousands of years. They are not limited to any particular scholarly, linguistic, or cultural tradition. They are able to express something deep and valuable, and not only to a limited few but to anyone, anywhere potentially. And the meanings, very much like poetry or other forms of art, are not restricted to a particular perspective. No one can claim complete authority over the meaning of profound spiritual texts or art. In part this is because what we need from a teaching as individuals is not necessarily an answer or a piece of information; what we often need (some may say always) is something that loosens an obstacle or a blockage in us, allowing the truth that is deep and hidden, but always already present, to shine forth. Profound spiritual lessons are not so much like learning a new mathematical equation or grammatical rule, it is more like being guided to a feeling of coming home to something very deep, very certain, very supportive and nourishing; and it often feels like waking up from a long to dream to something you somehow knew all along.

There is a Vedantic meditation on the "Om" which follows a somewhat similar course. Om is made up of "A', "U" and "M" sounds, followed by silence. So the practice involves prolonged chanting of "Ommmmmm". "A", "U" and "M" correspond to waking, dreaming, and deep sleep states. As we transition from the "A" sound to "U", we capture the sum total of our feeling of the entire waking state (as much as we can gather in our mind) and let it go. As we transition from "U" to "M" sound, we capture the sum total of our dream experiences (as much as possible) and let that go. And then as we transition from the "M" sound to silence, we drop even the deep sleep state. What remains in silence -- aware of the silence/stillness, that we abide in/as.

Dream on... ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

@mark Limbo state is such a state where there comes a pause. No events follow the practitioner. No good events, no bad events. To tell you the truth, I have not gone beyond this state. At first 'hell state' follows as in the moment after a relapse, everything that I have explained above. Then 'heaven state' follows. The hell ends, there is no mental torture, guilt, shame, or anything. Sometimes there is remainder of heaven state that has to finish then comes a hell state. After some time then comes a limbo state. Where your presence is not a presence nor the absence. You live in between. The affair of the world is on one side, you on the other side. It's like you are not in this world anymore. If your energy at this time is strong then it also reflects in the outer world. I have not gone beyond this. At the very moment, I am entering in such a state. However there is bliss, there is warm heat in the stomach, the spine seems to be breathing and mind in a calm state. We should not and never engage in lust when such a state comes, else 'hell state' arises again. Thank you for asking this question, the explanation can seem vague but can only be understood by the self-practice. @EmeraldHead Nofap thread. They only go for 2,3 days and relapse. I have stopped visiting that subreddit for long. Also, I have stopped visiting other semen retention related subreddit since late 2019. My experience comes from longer streak with extreme will, extreme cold shower everyday (sometimes thrice), and extreme purification through lust (I know it sounds ironic, but there comes a time when you have to withdraw from such lust, and only focus on lust that is created from within not without, and then drop that too), maybe that is why my relapse has higher impact. However, at the very moment, I am refraining again to talk such a thing. Because it is the nature of practice itself, as the days pass by, I lose interest in such stuff, like I am slowly transcending to another consciousness. Thank you for your knowledge about Sambogakaya and Nirmanakaya, that is new to me. I was searching about relapse phenomenon yesterday, and got something from another religion. Let me share that with you here, it wrote: 'The teshuvos Maharsham (7:26) quotes the Zohar that masturbation is worse than all other sin. The teshuvos P'nei Yehoshua says that it is like murder. The Maharal in Be'er HaGula (Be'er sheni perek tes) says that it is worse than murder.' The important point to remember here is that in all religions masturbation is in fact a greatest sin. It is my own sin that bad things happen to my own perception of inner and the outer. However, let it be, I am not focusing on such stuff now, at the moment I am euphoric from my own practise **************** One more thing, since my last relapse I have been more serious about my practice. I only used lust energy for the first 4 days or so and then I dropped it off. Now is the time to transcend. The energy seem to build up in my stomach already and been slowly moving up. This part of the retention journey is the best part. No more lust, no more thoughts, just pure euphoria. Also, now when I close my eyes I see lots of vivid images like in a dream. And my dream seems to be like my reality. Cheers. Love and Kindness. Good days are coming. Peace.

Intentional communities usually fall apart after the dream fades and the real work begins. Auroville, Israeli Kibbutzim and The Farm have had success but not without myriad problems, whereas most have fallen apart due to ideological, financial and a host of other problems. A Marxist communal model most likely works well and must be kept to a small scale.