Deep Continuity: the spiral web your soul weaves
I dream of spiders and spiders can dream.
For several nights, I dreamed of stumbling upon spider webs. One night, I found a rainbow-colored web in the back of my closet. It was woven tightly like a sweater. The strongest material on earth made by the most fragile bodies. If you drop a tarantula from a small distance it will break and die.
In another dream, I was between the walls of Space and Time when I saw a book about the future trapped in a spider web. An old-timey radio broadcast came on and alerted the public that this book was being changed from the past. The words in printed copies were being altered as they were read.
The dream messengers said I could do this too. Write my own life across timelines — backwards and forwards. Change the past to create new futures.
Still the message is just a metaphor. Symbols are flat. And animal totems are shapeshifters. Dreams weave themselves outside of time — the meaning of them is revealed only after patience and reverence. So I carried the dreams with me for days, trying to fit them into my reality like puzzle pieces. Then one morning, I woke up to find a spider had spun part of its web on the lawn. It gleamed in the sun. I meditated on it quietly, until a meaning arose in the form of a question — what is the deepest desire that drives you?
I think of my parents, because I am a continuation of them. Their desires are encoded into my DNA and my whole life I've tried to disentangle my identity from theirs. My father, who never wanted to be poor, would spend hours shining his shoes only to hide his holey bottoms. My mother, even as a child, could never escape the male gaze, and it splintered her into a hundred pieces.
Fears often disguise themselves as desires and sit behind the wheel of all our decisions — these are things that need to be rewritten.
Your true desires are separate from any external influence. You sense them in the trajectory of your life. Every decision I have ever made has been driven by the desire to feel freedom and connect with God on my own terms.
So this is what I do. This is how I time travel. I connect with my deepest desires — not my parents, not anyone else's. I go back and sit with younger versions of myself. I consult and console. And each time I return to the now, I come back with another piece of my puzzle. This is how you establish Deep Continuity.
Sometimes I meditate and sit with my 60-year-old self. A woman I am getting to know little by little. She is graceful and wise and boundlessly loving, and I always ask her — how do I get from me to you? The path is not clear. One time I asked her in a dream "What is the difference between me and you?" and she responded, "Pull the universe toward you."
Deep Continuity is the spiral web that your soul weaves. You can travel it, back and forth across your life. You can quantum leap into paths not taken. You can extrapolate into futures not yet created. You can pull the universe toward you.
You can do this, because you now know what drives you in every direction.
Draw your inner child’s dream bedroom
I dreamed that child me was standing in an empty room. My husband was there. He offered to build me the childhood bedroom that I never had but always wanted. Just then the door flew open and the frogs — who I call the “healing frogs” — hopped in to help.
Unfortunately, I woke up. So I meditated to re-enter the dream. I envisioned everything that child me dreamed of having: a wall full of books, a window seat for reading, a view of a river, an art easel, and a microscope.
I then envisioned what adult me would appreciate: a chaise lounge and bar cart with endless, flowing champagne, a sitting area for friends and tea, and another window with a view of mountains.
This room is now a visual safe space that I can return to in meditation for solace. If there is an answer I need, I can pull a book from my shelf. If there is something that is confusing me, I can inspect it under the microscope.
After completing the drawing, it became obvious to me that all the spaces and things inside my room are the most important aspects of my life — quietude, learning, art, connection, nature, and celebration.
Think Radially
Think Radially is the phrase I use to help me bypass my analytical mind. It works because it is impossible to think radially, so instead I visualize my existence spiraling out of a nautilus shell.
Think Radially acts as a taproot into my expanded consciousness and it permeates all possibilities.
To Think Radially is to transcend time. I give myself equal footing in all possibilities that exist. Everything is within my grasp — even the paths I did not choose.
The life that you fear will never be lived continues to unfold. You can sense it in the spaces between your breath and in the silence between your sentences. Events exist in all realms: mental, physical, emotional, spiritual, ethereal. Your cells are communicating and aging, while your emotions are maturing and your thoughts are evolving. When I say Think Radially that is my attempt to grasp what is happening behind the veil.
Your ancestors are You.
You begin to know your parents and lovers and friends more intimately, because you see their missing spaces. The space between their possibilities. You see their journey — the direction in which they’ve always been reaching. You see their sacred imagery. All along it’s been staring you in the face. This supernatural reality.
You knew from the beginning how everything would end: that relationship, the career, a move. You know this in the same way a compass needle ticks toward its magnetic north — pulling you toward what you’re most attracted to. Try to sense the direction in which your compass is pointing and then sense all the other directions you not will be walking toward. This is Thinking Radially — a doorway for connecting to your intuition.
When you find yourself flooded with Egypt
When you find yourself flooded with Egypt / the gold in your bones begins to sing / close your eyes / we made portals for this / let your blood dissolve / become stars in someone else's galaxy / in death we inherit wings / in life only your heart can fly
This poem was inspired by a passage in Antero Alli’s book Angel Tech:
To the Western world of the latter 20th century, Egypt circa 3,000 B.C.E. is a most exotic, magical kingdom of great knowledge and power. A remarkable surge of human identification with this era has unleashed torrents of psionic information from the Akashic Archives.
Your ethical responsibility is to return and help your bodies become more intelligent. Teach them as if they were your children, as they are, and express the denser sides of yourselves. Have patience with their anxiety and ignorance, for without each other—they will grow lonely and you, dear lost souls—will not grow at all—visit their little minds in dreamtime and show them who you are. If they are flooded with Egypt, appear as KA—the bird-human symbol for the soul from Egyptian mythology—but appear!
Found notes
Dear Claudia of early ‘03 — you will get your heart broken a bunch of times more.
____________
“You should be cooking on all 4 burners.”
Wormhole wonderings and other things
An ad hoc list of what’s been happening:
YouTube: #MeditativeMind soundscapes
Reading: Angel Tech: A Modern Shaman's Guide to Reality Selection (while staying grounded in this reality)
Internet: CIA Electronic Reading Room, Analysis and Assessment of the Gateway Process + Vice, How to Escape the Confines of Time and Space According to the CIA
Workspace:
Message from meditation:
“One channel only.”