January 24, 2021

 I am tired and resisting entry into the Bardo/Imaginal but that doesn’t stop me from entering it. It does, however, mean that I don’t feel as engaged when I’m there. My mind center is open so I am seeing everything but my heart and belly don’t feel activated by what I’m witnessing. I notice that when I relax and am not resisting as much, it is like a veil is lifted away from my heart and belly and I’m much more present.

The reason I’m resisting is because I keep wanting to discredit what I’m seeing. I want to chalk it up to my imagination because it’s so outside the realm of my usual experience. It seems so fantastical that I discount it. It couldn’t possibly be true! But, as I mentioned above, this doesn’t stop me from visiting the realm and seeing everything; it just keeps me from fully participating in it.


Today, I found myself standing on a rugged cliff overlooking the ocean. It was nighttime as usual and I was alone at first. After a while, I became aware of what I took at first to be an angel. He was tall and beautiful, glowing gold and white. A young man. I didn’t bow to him, though, which is a sign. (I only usually bow to the gods and spiritual beings I meet in the Bardo and also sometimes to the lost souls.)


He pointed out into the distance. I squinted. There was a boat out there, a relatively modern one, too. No sooner had I spotted it than we were standing on its deck. I stood there next to the ‘angel’ and looked around, noticing how the windows in the bridge were all jet black. That blackness is almost always an indication of the location of the lost soul.


The boat was big but not the size of a cruise ship or an ocean transport vessel. It may have been a personal yacht or something like that. It had a smokestack and was made of metal; in other words, relatively modern. The ‘angel’ bade me to investigate the bridge so I climbed the stairs and entered.


Inside, it was pitch black but gradually my eyes acclimated. The ‘captain’ was rather horrific. He reminded me of an insane person. He was clutching the wheel and staring maniacally toward the horizon even though the windows were completely dark and there was no way he could have seen where he was going. He was dead and lost but I could tell that I hadn’t been sent to reclaim his soul. I can only conjecture why he was so obsessed with getting to his destination as quickly as possible.


I looked around the bridge and my eye was drawn to the rear corner. Don’t ask me why but there was a litter of puppies writhing on a blanket on the floor. I walked over to them and examined them, realizing there was also a human infant lying amongst the puppies. The puppies and baby were not black but rather looked pretty normal and, of course, very cute. I understood they were the reason I was there and scooped them up in my arms and carried them out to the waiting angel.


Once outside, I placed them on the deck before the angel and the infant and puppies instantly grew up. Soon, there was a beautiful young woman standing there with a pack of dogs around her legs. It was then I realized that the angel wasn’t an angel at all but the boy I had helped out of his crypt the day before (the one whose remains had been burnt to ashes.) The young woman was most likely a relative, probably his sister. She may also have been his girlfriend but I doubt that. I didn’t get a romantic vibe from them. Anyway, after thanking me, they disappeared, taking the dogs along with them.


I stood on the deck of the boat and looked toward the horizon. Soon, I spotted a strange island. It was volcanic but not shaped like a typical volcano. Instead of being roughly cone-shaped, it looked like a stack of ribs. You know, like you would see on a English table. The ribs are bound together into a circle that flares out toward the top. That’s the basic shape of the island. Its caldera was glowing red and there was a small crack at the beach level where I could see a crevice.


I knew that was my next destination and also realized there was no way the maniacal captain was going to let me off there so I had to jump into the water and swim to shore. I pulled myself up on the black sand beach and entered the crevice, walking in find a glittering obsidian staircase waiting for me. I ascended the steps, heading towards the red glow and eventually entered the crater where an unfamiliar god was waiting for me. He had huge eyes and a strangely shaped body, almost like a cartoon character. If I were to guess, I’d say he was a god of some tribe in the Pacific or perhaps Southeast Asia. Definitely not a culture I’m familiar with.


The god was standing over a shallow pit cut into the cooled magma. There were open pits of magma nearby but I wasn’t hot. There was more light than heat, a mixture of red and black light. In the shallow, open pit lay the body of a man. He was human but didn’t look like one would expect because his body was tattooed heavily and he was wearing scant ‘clothing’ whose significance seemed more ceremonial than practical. He was clearly not someone from the West. 


Why I was called here to this volcano to awaken him, I have no idea. I mean, why send a white guy here? But, if you’ve been reading these entries, you will realize that I have been called to all sorts of places outside of my cultural milieu. Part of me resists this because I don’t feel like it’s appropriate for a clueless white guy to ‘help’ out souls who are not from his culture. But I have to remember that I don’t get to decide where I am summoned, my job is simply to go and help as best as I can.


So, I approached the ‘dead’ man and knelt down over him. His eyes opened and he seemed surprised both to see me and to realize he wasn’t dead. I bowed to him and then motioned over to the deity waiting for him. “It’s your time,” I said. “Time to leave this place and continue on.”


The man arose and bowed to me before joining his guide and disappearing.


***


I sat there for a while, trying to go back to simply meditating but True Nature had other plans for me. Soon, I realized I was standing before a creamy white wall with a creamy white door. The lintel of the doorway was decorated with--what else?--creamy white flowers. The smell of jasmine was almost overpowering.


As I stared, the door--which had been blank when I first noticed it--began to fill in with detail. Soon I could see a handle and the cracks between the wooden slabs. I reached out and entered a beautiful bedroom that was also monochromatic, creamy white. Making my way through the room, I noticed a woman dressed all in creamy white standing on a balcony. It was the same queen I had met the previous morning and she was looking out over the same snowy field I had visited the day before.


“There’s a surprise waiting for you out there,” she said, indicating the field.


As I looked out on it, I saw that it wasn’t all creamy white. In the middle of the field was a square opening that was deep cobalt blue. I knew that was where I need to go so I climbed down from the balcony and trudged across the creamy white field to that cobalt blue well. I hesitated only a moment before diving in. I swam downward eventually exiting through an underground pool.


Looking around I recognize the same cave I’d visited on Monday when I was reunited with Griffin for the first time after ‘graduating’ from the Bardo. Its wall and floor were striped cobalt and quartz, a very beautiful place.


Following the stream out of the cave, I saw an opening that looked out onto a misty crevice. The stream exited the cave into the crevice and I climbed upward, eventually reaching a small glen in the middle of a misty forest. The trees were ancient and moss-covered and I could just make out the ghostly forms of many animals moving through the mists.


Wrapped in a bear skin, Griffin awaited me on a little pile of rocks in the glen. He didn’t look quite as dazed and confused as the day before but there was a certain set to his jaw and a squint to his eyes that told me he wasn’t happy about being there. He didn’t even look at me or acknowledge my presence.


I sat down beside him and leaned into his shoulder, taking his big, calloused hand in my own. He didn’t resist but didn’t seem to notice, either. The bear skin was damp and fragrant, gamey. I marveled again at how big Griffin is. He’s so broad and tall and muscular but also soft around the belly. Much like a bear. His hair and beard were unkempt, very bearlike.


We sat there looking down at the misty forest. After a while I became aware of the presence of the god I am pledged to. I nudged Griffin, whispering, “There he is. Don’t you remember? You found me with him.”


He didn’t respond but I felt his body brace. He seemed like he was warring with himself, ready to storm off at any moment. I realized how apt the bear comparison is: He’s wild and unpredictable and ferocious, much like a bear. It bothered me to see him so worked up and to know that my presence was causing him pain and confusion. Even though our bonding was outside of our control and I knew he had chosen it just as gladly as I had, I felt bad. Almost like I was torturing him.


We sat there in the presence of the god, mindful of being watched. Nothing happened, though, and soon the god had moved on. It was just the two of us sitting in the glen, looking down at the mist-enshrouded trees. We didn’t move. I closed my eyes and meditated, conscious of his great, warm body on my right, pressing into me. Conscious of his anger, fear, confusion and resentment and knowing there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I sat there and meditated until my timer went off a few minutes later.


***


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