The Case of the Foster Children
Dream of last night:
We had just come out of a movie called Monkeybone (my cousin’s nickname), which was the latest Stephen King thriller, and we were driving past my father-in-law’s house, when I had a premonition that life was going to ‘switch gears’. The city government had, for the last year or so, been fighting among themselves, and were making no progress toward solving their issues. The switching of the gears meant that they were being pitted against each other for political purposes, but that this phase was over, and now individuals would be targeted.
I remembered a couple who had wanted to hire me on as a metaphysical investigator, for their four foster kids. At the time I didn’t get anything from looking at the kids or the house, so I’d ended up telling them I couldn’t take the case. The husband had collected a bunch of books on the occult to try and solve the problem on his own, but he couldn’t figure it out. However, I remembered seeing a certain slim novel on a shelf, which had some sort of writing scrawled on the inside of the cover (had something to do with the kids, but I don’t recall what).
So we went and broke into the house to get the book. We got it, but we couldn’t leave by the way we came in (window on the 2nd story), so we were going to just go out the back on the 1st floor. However, the guy was standing at the bottom of the stairs just as we turned the corner. We tried to backtrack but he’d seen us right away. We ran back towards the window, but he came after us with a gun. His hand was shaking as he held the gun, so I talked him down, and he dropped the pistol. So we started talking about how crazy things had gotten for him, and the wife brought in the four kids. There was a visible, nigh unto tangible, black aura surrounding each one. I mentioned that last time, they must have been nervous, and thereby unintentionally white-washed the kids’ psychic imprint. They agreed, and began telling me about the case again. I began connecting items and events and cycles of abuse together, to see how these kids had been so tainted, and how we could restore them. The scene switched to a huge auditorium where groups of people were signing up for classes (the University in my Dreams is the Organization factor between Higher Souls – The Invisible College???) and a group of 7-8 ppl were standing around me, hoping I’d accept the case, and help the foster children. I agreed, and then started discussing some of my ideas with the group, because they were supposed to be the experts in their fields. I really wanted to hear what they were saying, but instead I woke up.
Two Eyes
Samekh Ayin has been my study as of late, and I finally hit paydirt. Ginsburgh writes about the two parts of the Ayin, one being an elongated Nun (passive consciousness – all seeing, ’cause fish don’t blink) and the other being a Zayin, which relates back to one of my specialties: Quintessential Memory. Ayin is said to be two eyes, one looking up at Samekh and the other looking down at Peh. It’s kind of like driving… one eye on the road (Peh) and one on the gauges and mirrors (Samekh). One eye toward God and one toward life.
(Thanks to Jacobus Swart of the Sangraal Sodality for this quote)
“I recall a story someone once told me about Jewish philosopher Martin Buber that illustrates the difference between experience and encounter. A tragic event gave him a clear understanding of the difference between experiencing another person as an object and encountering a person in a relationship. Buber tells the story of the turning point in his life. He was seriously involved with spirituality, mysticism, and meditation. One day, he was meditating in his room, and he entered into an incredible state of mystical ecstasy. Suddenly he heard a knock at the door. He was so high, he wasn’t sure he had heard it right, so he waited a few moments. Again, he heard the knock at the door. Buber had to tear himself away from his ecstatic experience in order to answer the door. He opened the door and saw a fellow he didn’t know, a stranger. Of course if buber had had malhus [Malchut] consciousness, he wouldn’t have perceived anyone to be a stranger. But, he relates, he stood there looking at this stranger who obviously wanted something.
“Now, perhaps you’ve had the experience of dropping in on someone, and when he or she opens the door, you realize, ‘Oh my gosh, I came at the wrong time.’ You feel awkward. Just so, this fellow realized he was interrupting Buber, and he felt really awkward. Of course, if he had netzah-hod consciousness, he would have known that there’s no such thing as bad timing. Everything is perfectly timed. In any case, he said. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Buber, I must be disturbing you. Let me come back another time.’
“Buber, being a gentleman, said, ‘No, please, come in, it’s fine.’
“So Buber let him in and had him sit down in his salon and tried very hard to listen and to focus on what his visitor had to say, but most of his mind was still absorbed in the high he had just experienced. The visitor stuttered and stammered and obviously did not feel comfortable sharing with Martin Buber what was on his mind or in his heart. Finally, the fellow apologized, excused himself, and left. And Buber returned to his room and tried to get back into his ecstatic state of consciousness.
Later, Buber heard that this fellow had killed himself. Buber was devastated. He realized that the man had come to him because he desperately needed help, and Buber wasn’t there for him because he was so absorbed in his spiritual experience. That’s when Buber realized how fake a mystical high can be. If it doesn’t open one up to hearing the call to duty, if it doesn’t increase one’s ability to respond, it is an empty experience.”
- David Aaron (Seeing God: Ten Life-Changing Lessons of the Kabbalah)
It’s easy for me to see all the fucked up things that happen in my life, but it’s hard to keep my eyes on the Interface while they are happening. It’s been hell lately, but I’m learning slowly but surely to keep one eye on each thing. Not doing so could be the death of me or someone I love. Sad but true.
So, now we move on to that scariest of combinations… the Penultimate. The OTz/Tree. I held off posting this for a day because I’m not altogether sure I’m ready for this one. I’ve dreamed about this one a couple times and I know it will be difficult, but perhaps not in the way that SO has been. TzTh is after that, then a rite surrounding the mystery of ThA, and the Letter Method v.4 is complete. [crosses fingers]
Oh yeah… perhaps I should explain why I’m jumping from Ayin to Tzaddi. Well, I’ve worked through the letters a few times now, and this time I was working them primarily to understand them in their natural function, as expressed by the Natural Vowels. The natural vowels are applied to a letter when one must guess what their sound is, for instance, in Sefer Yetsirah, where there aren’t vowel points in some of the manuscripts. However, it’s not a hard and fast rule, but sort of one that you apply based on context.
So the order I worked them in this time was:
1 Qibbutz: Nun
2 Chirek: Yod, Qoph
3 Cholem: Gimel, Shin
4 Tzere: Beth, Heh, Cheth, Teth, Mem, Peh, Resh
5 Qametz: Aleph, Daleth, Vav, Zayin, Kaph, Lamed, Samekh, Ayin, Tzaddi, Tau
I need to rework the vowel system based on the more modern systems which have about 12 vowels. Then I’ve got other revisions that need more immediate attention, like the Bonds-Dots-Stripes questions, and Resh Millin concerns. Oi!
_
Neptune Direct
Wednesday, October 22
==
Vision of 9/18/01:
I saw a small, circular area above which towered cliffs on all sides save one. In one direction a canyon ran outwards, and the walls of the canyon were covered in corpses which had been pierced by spears, pinning them to the canyon walls. I was horrified to see the carnage, but then I realised that the spears were all mine. I had done this. At the horizon, between the two canyon walls, the sun was beginning to rise.
After this vision, I wrote the following bit of doggerel:
The path out of my heart
Now lies open to the public
Littered with death & woe
Thousands of piercing spears
Scattered throughout
This blasted canyon
This Cleft in the Rock
Horribly defended by any means.
I also got the impression that the round area I stood in was my own Tiphereth/Heart Center.
==
Yesterday we saw clouds without rain. Today I saw a cloudy form floating beside the road… I think we have the first suspect… sa’arah.
I had been visiting Adam, while he did a recovery program. It was kind of like a camp, but a little more into showing videos than normal. So when we got back, Kristi begged me to help him, not by letting him stay with us, but with someone in the program who could help him. I immediately thought of Tom. So we started talking about it, and I guess we called Tom, and he agreed (Tom C is my sponsor). Jared and Nick showed up, for no reason, and Jared started telling me he wanted to get sober. We talked about it for awhile, and he seemed very earnest, something very odd to see in Jared. Jared and Adam went elsewhere to talk, but Nick was pissed. His eyes were sunken in, and had very dark circles under them. At this point, Nick adopted a stance and said, “Come on!” He didn’t want to fight, but rather, it was like talking in feints. The language of fighting. Then I closed my eyes and began blocking his every move, like Neo from the first Matrix movie.
==
I dreamed that Drayton, Kristi and I had gone to an evil house. We had thought that it was a theme store. There were clothes and whatnot, but it looked like the house in Lord of Illusion. Spirits manifested from no where to murder ppl and dark people stalked the hallways. Kristi had been entranced as we were trying to get out, by a tall dark man who had appeared out of a rack of black goth clothes. Drayton had been turned into a cat (black with white circles around his eyes). I was very worried about him getting stepped on; As he and I ran out to the van, it pulled out and drove towards me. Rafa was driving. He pulled up so that I could get in immediately. I hopped in and noticed that Drayton/The Cat was already there. I jumped in, and Rafa squealed tires out of there. We ended up some short distance away (He pulled into a hidden parking place in reverse) and he told me to go back in there and give every ounce of energy I had, into Kristi, and save her from that evil place. Break free.I got out and started climbing up these enormous Tree roots that lead to the evil house. There were ppl along the way, talking in soft voices, united by tragedy and the horrors they’d seen while in the house. They were all bruised, battered, and cut, but they were alive. Some hadn’t made it out, and those that had wept at irregular intervals, in the midsts of conversations for those they’d left behind to the horrors. As I continued, there were stacks upon stacks of books that someone had left. I felt my attention being pulled to the books, and began reading one, only to remember Rafa, telling me to go back in to the house and get Kristi. I jerked my attention away from the book and kept walking. Somehow I walked out through a bookstore. There were many people being killed and there was much destruction being caused by a smaller, but still huge tree … [unremembered interlude] a highway littered with cars … [unremembered interlude] then in the midst of the House, Kristi and I clasped hands, and a blinding light evaporated the House from around us like sunlight on fog.
***Note that the one of the themes of climbing the Tree was temptation. First was the temptation to console the survivors. Second was the temptation to knowledge and information. Third was the temptation to stop the destruction.
==
I dreamed then that I had gone to New York, to visit my friend Cheryl. She and Lorraine were doing very well, and their move had re-sparked their love for life. On the way back to the shuttle bus going to our hotel, we ran across a blocked gate. It had been a predominately Chinese area, but here in the middle was a children’s theme park. The children raced to show us how to get around the gate. We walked up some stairs, then we rested for the night in an abandoned room. We were still cut off from getting home. Most of the group huddled together to keep warm, but there were furnaces in the back of the room, and I went to go sit by one of them. There was a melted gold-looking substance on the floor. I realised that it was pyrite in a semi-solid phase, because the park was one that let little kids go pan for gold (Note: there is such a park here in CA) I went to go sit by the furnaces, but the fire would flare out and burn anything that got near them. This was why everyone had congregated on the other side of the room. I found a way to go beyond their reach, and used the tips of two of the flares to keep warm. The next morning, the power was out and there was rioting in the streets. We got back to the bus and drove for another day and another night. On the third day we ended up having to jump it off of an overpass down to the highway below to get to the airport. There were reporters (the lead reporter was on a skateboard – very cool) covering the whole incident, but we paid them no attention. An old friend of mine, Jason Blount was there, and he and I talked during the final stretch of our race to the airport. Finally, after much discussion, I told him that I was mad, and that it didn’t really matter if we made it to the airport or not, I would survive by whatever means necessary.
At the edge of the desert
GWB was in Dinhaban yesterday… that’s not too far away. I used to work on computers there for a guy named John (Mills, maybe??? Can’t remember his name anymore), who always kept a bottle of Stoly and a pack of Zig-Zags nearby.
Anyway, I’ve been looking at this spam I keep getting on my hotmail acct. It seems that in the subject line, these spammers are inserting sentences from classical works. For instance:
until the last; then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and
***Yeah, you read rite… 
War of the Worlds.
Here’s the full paragraph for context:
“In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier could see, not a living thing left upon the common, and every bush and tree upon it that was not already a blackened skeleton was burning. The hussars had been on the road beyond the curvature of the ground, and he saw nothing of them. He heard the Martians rattle for a time and then become still. The giant saved Woking station and its cluster of houses until the last; then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town became a heap of fiery ruins. Then the Thing shut off the Heat-Ray, and turning its back upon the artillery-man, began to waddle away towards the smouldering pine woods that sheltered the second cylinder. As it did so a second glittering Titan built itself up out of the pit.”
Next we have:
four acres in one day of good glebe land, to see whose furrows were
Ulysses?!?! Here’s the context:
“I wish,” said Ulysses, “that you who speak this, and myself, were to be tried at any task-work; that I had a good crooked scythe put in my hand, that was sharp and strong, and you such another, where the grass grew longest, to be up by day-break, mowing the meadows till the sun went down, not tasting of food till we had finished; or that we were set to plough four acres in one day of good glebe land, to see whose furrows were evenest and cleanest; or that we might have one wrestling bout together; or that in our right hands a good steel-headed lance were placed, to try whose blows fell heaviest and thickest upon the adversary’s head-piece. I would cause you such work, as you should have small reason to reproach me with being slack at work. But you would do well to spare me this reproach, and to save your strength, till the owner of this house shall return, till the day when Ulysses shall return, when returning he shall enter upon his birthright.”
And last, but certainly not least:
the Lacedaemonians and with the great king?
SOCRATES!?!? Wow, these are some classy spammers! I love the paragraph, although you may wish to read a little before and after to get the real sense of it… it’s a beautiful passage.
“SOCRATES:
And suppose that you were going to steer a ship into action, would you only aim at being the best pilot on board? Would you not, while acknowledging that you must possess this degree of excellence, rather look to your antagonists, and not, as you are now doing, to your fellow combatants? You ought to be so far above these latter, that they will not even dare to be your rivals; and, being regarded by you as inferiors, will do battle for you against the enemy; this is the kind of superiority which you must establish over them, if you mean to accomplish any noble action really worthy of yourself and of the state.”
All of these things mirror things that Aikeena or
Well, back to my Ayin work… [they haven't done any Shin-work yet, 'cause the doctor was going to pull the tooth without drying up the infection first... Antibiotics are expensive. However my grandpa nearly died from just such a mistake, so I'm switching doctors.]
Storm Drains
I saw kids pouring water into the storm drains, then some sort of chemical to test the acid level of the rain/floodwaters. The first group was from the school itself. The second group was from somewhere else, visiting on a field trip. They paired up first and second group classes so the kids could meet new people and get to have fun while performing the experiment/maintenance. The test involved pouring 2 huge garbage cans full of water into the drain, until it overflowed, then inserting a plastic piece to stop up the drain, and pouring in one small cup of the testing chemical. The plastic would turn red if the water’s natural acid content was normal. It would turn yellow or green if the acid content was too high. As I walked by one group, one of the visiting teachers was making fun of the way Bucca had pronounced something. She had a microphone on, which I covered by grabbing with one hand, and the other I cupped to her ear. I told her that Bucca was just getting better, after some severe traumas, and that if she continued to make fun of her, and hurt my little girl, I’d probably kill her.
The 21st Yichud crawled on the page the other night. Like de-gaussing a monitor, but moreso. [Note: Meditation and Kabbalah, pg. 255-258]
Spark. Yep, you read right. Spark. [whisper] finally…
Going to the doctor today. I’ve had a huge [the size of a Lemonhead candy] infected mass in my gums for about a year and a half. With something worth living for, I’ve finaly decided to go get it taken care of. Antibiotics haven’t worked on it for long. Hopefully they’ll use Augmentin to dry it up, then excise it. I don’t know. I’m just nervioso ’bout it. No bueno por caca.
Note: Even if you don’t reply, check out my new pic anyway. Added one of my old names to it (I used to call my self Stereo in 5th grade).
Dream: The Battle Rages On
I was at war with Nick. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been this way, but we were. For the sake of Jessica’s little brother, I’d agreed to go to their house while they were away and check on things (that was the reason I kept giving in the dream). So we went there, and were taking care of things there, when Nick, Jessie, and Kevin show up. It turned out that they wanted something in the house, and they were pissed about me being there. I told them I’d call the cops if they tried to come in. Jessie said he’d come in and get it, and I could follow him to make sure he didn’t steal anything. I told him that if he’d tell me where it was I’d go get it for them, if it belonged to them. Kevin was obviously drunk, and kept dry-heaving in the car. I gave Jessie the item (some earrings with little bits of amethyst in them), which did belong to Nick, and told them to leave. Jessie got back in the car and went to go. Kristi and Drayton were in the car, and Kevin was about to go talk to them when Jessie dragged him back to the car and told him that they had to go.
After that, I cleaned up, and got ready to go. Then as I was leaving, a guy pulled up and offered to sell us some natural gas for our heater, thinking the house was ours. I told him we didn’t live there. Then he offered some milk, which he had gotten (and pasteurized) from his own cows. I told him we didn’t have room in the car to do that. He looked at our car, and agreed. So we all walked to our respective cars, and as we walked Stacy kept asking the guy question after question. Finally she asked him if he could get her a weather proof hood so she wouldn’t get rained on. The image of Stacy wearing the hood in profile flashed before my eyes, and she looked like the girl on the iodized salt cans. I laughed to myself as we got in the car and left, and then I woke up.
Fishing Field Trip
I was on a strange sort of trip with a lot of people I knew before high school. I remember they were teaching us how to fish, and that there was a lot of effort involved in it. I had taken lots of home-prepared fish for the trip, but I forgot the leftovers on the way home. There was a movie we got to go watch, too. It wasn’t all that exciting, but the theatre looked very technologically advanced. It was mostly gray, with the floors and ceiling black. My old youth pastor, Mike George was there, and so was his wife Jonelle. He used to call her, “the Wife of his Youth,” and “The Stone Fox.” He used to play Deep Purple, without singing the words, to warm up, ’cause that’s what he learned to play guitar on. Nice guy. That reminds me of the time a few months back when my dad told me in conversation that there was no such band as Deep Purple and that I was lying or something. Anyway, we had a great time, but even though Mike had put the leftovers with my stuff, I’d forgotten my stuff there. I went home and had an intense craving for that fish, but I couldn’t find anything like it in the fridge. My dad started telling me what he would do in that situation. Maybe it was just in the way that he shared it, but I felt really close to him as he changed subjects from food to his philosophy on life. I told him I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and that I was alone. He told me that he’d been alone forever, and that I should get over it. It sort of bugged me, because the minute before that, he was whining to me about how awful life was for him, and the next minute he was telling me to suck it up and be a man. So I left… and woke up.
Another symbolic link is from my thoughts. When I was younger, one of my friends’ uncles took him to go fishing and took me along. I didn’t do much; I ate that ground up jerky that comes in a snuff can and did a lousy job of fishing in general. But when I got home, I asked my dad if he’d take me fishing sometime, too. He said yes. It was a recurring theme in my life after that, that when someone told me they’d do something, then let me down, I’d think about that stupid fishing trip I never went on with my dad. The Object of Desire.
As for Mike, he was my hero. He was good with his kids, and a great guy to hang out with. He wasn’t dogmatic about his Christianity, and he’d always go talk to the kids who were loners or were addicts (there are a lot of addicts here). He was always happy, always upbeat, and he never lost his temper. His relationship with his wife seemed really good and they had a funny light-hearted banter that they kept going whenever I saw them. Certainly they weren’t perfect, but to my lonely teenage eyes, they seemed to have exactly what I wanted.
…Somewhere else in the dream…
I dreamed that Leonard was dying, and that I was going around town trying to find someone who knew where he lived. Finally I ended up in a sewing shop, talking to three little old ladies (the Norns!), who seemed to like me, and told me where he was. I beamed and gave them a big smile as I left.
Samekh + Ayin
OSS – Ayin Samekh Samekh
a primitive root; TWOT-1660; v
AV-tread down 1; 1
1) to press, crush, press by treading, tread down or out, press (grapes)
1a) (Qal) to press
======================
SOH – Samekh Ayin Heh
a primitive root; TWOT-1526; v
AV-storm 1; 1
1) (Qal) to rush (of storm wind)
======================
And so it is that my Eye is set… the die cast. The rushing storm (first of the Qlippoth of Ezekiel) comes to tread out the Grapes (In high school they called me Jim Casey, ’cause I loved Steinbeck). But my thoughts aren’t on the old days of dust and grapes. My eye is on the present, the pouring out of wrath upon my family. The desecration of my daughter. She stabs at the pain, and hides in her cozy fear. I weep every night now, before bed. My son is hurting, as well. His biggest fan, his grandmother, turned into a stalker right before his eyes, and now he fears to trust anyone. His false face is so brave though, and I love him even more for it. My wife has lost her family, and her Rock, Speedy Parker/Parkus. The Wise Programmer and Father figure, without whom she would not have known sanity. One by one they have all disappeared, and if some lingering after-image remains, some dark thing must happen by, just to shit on it. My friends, too… gone or as good as. Very few remain now.
My eyes are playing tricks on me. I see people and then a car passes and they are gone. I see words that aren’t on the page. I see movements out of the corner of my eye that have no related object. I’m truly afraid of this. I feel that if I could just let go, I would plummet, and that I could truly see as I’ve always wanted to. But fear clinches my fingers tightly to my preconceptions, to my doubt, to my faith in the banal. Two letters left in my work. Tzaddi and Tau after this, and I’ve finished the Letter Method v.4. I feel so very unprepared for all of this.
My mom keeps playing her Rally ‘Round The House, and Surprise by Design shows on her ReplayTV, and every time I see a new house, a new addition, a new work, I see The Pentagon of Ferae, the house in Edgewood. Only this one is a Platonic Solid, and it’s faces keep changing as I do.
And above them all was the Ba’al Kanaph (Master of Wings – lit. Bird – Metatron, the Lord of the Eagles, and Maestro de la Lengua Verde). [Rabbi Chiyah] made an oath (prob. to keep from abandoning the body) and heard from behind the barrier (the oath binds one to the living world, and places a barrier between one and the world of Death – Ispaklaria is a barrier as well as a lens) that each day the King (Aleph the Greater) remembers the Doe (The Bride of Mononoke-hime’s Spirit of the Forest/Deer God/Nightwalker) who lies in the dust (the Shells of Assiya – ego’s and identities and small-talk) and visits her. At that time, He kicks out at 390 firmaments (390 = ZKR VNQBH – Man and Woman – Zoir Anpin and Nukva – also MPRO – from the Locks of Hair – from the Channels of MZL descending into Assiah from Yetsirah) and they all are confounded and tremble before Him (resonance from the fullness of meaning/the Word made Flesh). He sheds tears because of this, and those tears, boiling like fire, fall into the great sea (Ah, salimondo, surely you see the beauty in this!). The tears remain and endure there and as a result of their power the Ba’al Yam (Master of the Sea – ULMO, not Osse) is able to sanctify the Name of the Holy King. He accepts upon himself to swallow up all the waters of creation, and gather them unto himself (Neon Genesis Evangelion posits a similar situation, in which a surrogate gathers the Mayim Chai, Waters of Life, and then presents them to Shinji, the Ba’al Yam, to do with as he will). Then all peoples will come together to the Holy People, and the waters will be dried up so that they will be able to pass over on dry land (see my beinoni link in the Red Heifer/Emers(i)on post).
[All comments in () parentheses are mine.]
“In the Tikkunei Zohar 18 32b: “When a person emits breath and words in
prayer, many birds spread their wings band open their mouths to accept
them. This is the meaning of the verse: ‘A bird of Heaven takes the
voice, and the Master of Wings speaks a word’ [Ecclesiastes: 10:20].”
Let’s drink the Sea together.
