July 27, 2025
This morning’s meditation took me both in a familiar and an unexpected direction. As I sat, I felt more strongly than ever how the simple factness of my Being is important, essential even. This is a lesson I need to learn over and over as a Point Three fixation on the Enneagram. Even in my lofty state (haha), I still get swept up in the belief that my value comes from what I do, not who I am. It’s deeply ingrained in me. These experiences during meditation serve to correct that misconception and also point to a key difference between life in the physical world and life in the nonmanifest realms.
In the physical world, each person is said to have value as a person but we mainly just give lip service to that notion. When it comes down to it, we really don’t value a human life that much. It’s sad but true. We’re so materialistic that the lives of wealthy people are generally worth more than those of almost anyone else. There are exceptions but not many. Further, in the physical world, it’s what you do that is considered of value and there is a hierarchy even there. We certainly don’t value someone who cleans houses for a living as much as, say, a doctor who saves lives.
In the nonmanifest realms, this is flipped on its head. Doing has very little value and Being has a lot of value. Oh, you do have to ‘do’ things here and there but you’re acting through nondoing; i.e., you are acted upon by Being. Of course, you can act through your ego as a separate self but such actions in the nonmanifest realms will inevitably get you in trouble, whereas people acting through their egos in the physical world is standard operating procedure.
Strangely, I got this lesson–the nondoing/Being lesson–twice during this meditation. First, I received it as a knowingness from sitting and doing nothing. Second, I intuited it as a result of an interaction I had with a hapless shaman whose egoic pride got him in trouble.
Let me explain.
After sitting for a while, I found myself in a beautiful realm that I instinctively recognized. It is one of the realms inhabited by indigenous people where the land itself and all of the creatures in it arise from the same sacred Being. Whatever you call that Being is up to you. I won’t attempt to name it because, while I feel a deep affinity for the indigenous realms, I am also somewhat of an outsider. I both belong there and don’t belong which may be why I was called there today.
It was nighttime and cloudy, the clouds illuminated deep blue and purple by the full moon overhead. I couldn’t see the moon through the clouds but its light was very strong, making everything appear almost as if it was full daylight.
I was on the edge of a vast forest that stretched out behind me in a verdant, unbroken tapestry. Before me was a big lake and in front of that was a wide duneland. The place pulsed with life and sacredness and I was deeply touched to be invited there. I knew I needed to head toward the lake and crossed the low dunes as I walked to the water. I looked down and was surprised that my body was basically just like my human one: I had normal feet and white skin. I was a white guy in this world just like I’m a white guy in the physical world. (The shape and color of my body, as you know if you’ve been reading these entries, tends to vary a lot in the nonmaterial realms.)
When I reached the beach and stood at the border between land and water with one foot on land and the other in water, I saw three entities approaching. I say three entities but they were really only two bodies. One of the bodies was clearly a recently deceased man whose pallor was that of a corpse. He had black hair and his skin was a deathly shade of white. He didn’t look good and was shambling along almost like a zombie. Beside him and guiding him along were the second and third entity. When I observed them, I recognized what they were: A shaman and his spirit guide. The guide, in this case, was a powerful deity who radiated a familiar blackness, the blackness of the Absolute.
I don’t know much about shamanism but I get the sense that the shaman merges with his or her spirit guide during their journey. This both enhances their senses and augments their power because they have access to both their own faculties as well as their guide’s. This guide, as I said, was a powerful one. The blackness radiating from him was very powerful and indicated that he was associated with the transition between life and death. The shaman who was ‘inside’ him appeared to be an indigenous man around my same age.
I could tell that my presence there wasn’t entirely welcomed or expected by either the shaman or his guide. They weren’t rude to me but they weren’t very friendly, either. I can’t really say I blame them because, even though I was invited there–I never go anywhere I’m not invited–I was also an interloper of sorts. Clearly, they didn’t expect some middle-aged white dude to be waiting for them and they took it as an affront. For his part, the corpse barely seemed to be aware of my presence, probably because he was a bit overwhelmed from the recent dying process.
What to do but be polite? I bowed deeply to indicate my respect. There were no words exchanged and we barely had a chance to look at each other before the clouds parted and the moon shone down upon us. As I looked up to it, it was almost a repeat of my last entry because I immediately recognized that the moon was a portal to the Crossroads.
I took the dead man by the hand and instantly we were in the pure white forest of the Crossroads. It was slightly different this time from other visits. The white was purer and more vivid and the forest was very alive and full of all sorts of white-furred and white-feathered animals. It was stunningly beautiful and very touching to be present there.
The dead man’s body transformed as soon as he set foot on the ground and, somewhat to my surprise, he took the form of a flying squirrel. I held him in my hands and only had to wait a few moments before a white elk approached. I was expecting the Woman in White but this time it was her male counterpart. Oftentimes when I meet him, he takes the form of a stag. Much like the shaman and his guide, I get the sense he doesn’t care for me and merely tolerates my presence. The squirrel glided over to land on the elk’s antlers and then the elk turned and walked away.
I stood there wondering what was next and was surprised when the Woman in White appeared by my side. She said, “Oh, good! We get to spend some time together at last! Usually, when you’re here, you’re gone so fast I barely get to enjoy your company.”
We hugged, enjoying an intimacy that one can only experience with one’s shizun (师尊), or sacred teacher. There is such closeness and joy between us, it brings tears to my eyes. Unlike my human teacher, Bob, the Woman in White and I share a deep connection that goes far beyond words. We’ve been through so much together and shared so much that I really can’t describe the affection I feel for her. I am forever in her debt. Without her, I would not be here at all.
She had a couple points she wanted to make because, well, she is my teacher after all. The first point was that she can always locate me wherever I am. “You can’t hide from me,” she said, laughing. “I’ll always know where you are and I’ll find you whenever I feel like seeing you or whenever you need me. I’m different from your man, Griffin, in that way. I guess it’s one of the perks of having lived so many lifetimes and possessing so much wisdom.” (This last bit was said in a sarcastic, self-deprecating manner.) I was somewhat startled to hear that she’d lived as a human but she confirmed it, adding that she might once again decide to take a physical form. “You’ll know when I do because I will find you no matter what…if we’re both embodied at the same time and on the same planet.”
She also affirmed my experience at the beginning of the meditation; i.e., knowing the power of my presence and how important it is in the nonmanifest realms. “You know there is no separation from anything, right?” she said, indicating the vivid world of the Crossroads around us. “You are this place as much as you are a visitor. You couldn’t be here if you weren’t also the Crossroads. It’s like that everywhere you find yourself: You are that place. It’s why you never have to worry about being a trespasser.”
This made some sense and certainly lent credence to the strong feeling of belonging I get when I am in a new realm. I might not feel entirely welcome but I don’t feel like an intruder.
Once again, the Woman in White invited me to see what lies beyond the Crossroads. You know, the place she and her counterparts take the souls afterwards. And once again, I declined. I probably could do it because I doubt she would ask if she didn’t think I was ready but I don’t feel ready.
As if to tempt me, she led me right up to the ‘precipice’ between the Crossroads and the next stage. it appeared as an annihilating whiteness much like a counterpart to the Absolute’s annihilating blackness. I don’t know why but that whiteness seems much more frightening than the depthless Black of the Absolute. I know how weird that must sound. Most people would probably prefer the whiteness over the blackness, given how darkness is associated with evil.
Still, that blinding white doesn’t feel like home in the way that Absolute Blackness does. I realize they are the same thing, just two sides of the same coin, but it will take me a while before I’m ready to dive into that white nothingness. (I have never been a particularly brave or adventurous sort.)
The Woman in White didn’t press me to dive into the whiteness, just told me she’d be waiting for me when I’m ready. We stayed together for a while before I felt myself called back to the previous realm. When I arrived there, the shaman and his guide were waiting for me. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what was going on but I have since figured it out. I think the shaman felt affronted not only by my presence there but also by my taking the dead man to the Crossroads. (“How can a white guy presume to do that? Hmpf! The gall! White people always trash the sacred!”)
I think this was more due to his ego than due to prejudice against white guys, though. It was clear to me that he lacked the same presence–maybe he hasn’t developed the Personal Essence/Pearl Beyond Price yet?--as I do and therefore couldn’t even be in the current realm without the help of his guide. (His guide was sheltering him inside itself.)
He insisted that I take him to the Crossroads, said he had to see it for himself. I didn’t feel put out by the request and led him by the hand up there. He was forced to separate from his guide in doing so and this proved to be a bad move. Almost as soon as we set foot in the Crossroads, he started to dissolve. This caused him to panic and so I moved to ‘encapsulate’ his soul within my own. While he wasn’t happy with this solution, he allowed me to do it because he was in such a state. So, I basically took on the role of his guide.
As soon as I took him within me, we disappeared from the Crossroads and found ourselves in another familiar realm: The realm of the Soul River. This is a starkly beautiful realm that isn’t very welcoming of those who are not prepared for it. It’s very dark for starters and also very austere. Making matters worse, there is the constant, furious ‘soul wind’ of blue mist racing past. It’s this terrible, diffuse blue soul wind that has led me to call to it the River of Souls.
Unfortunately, the poor shaman wasn’t prepared for it and panicked again, separating from within my protective boundary. Almost instantly, he began to dissolve again and I was forced to throw myself over him to save him. At that moment, we were pulled back to the beach where the spirit guide was still waiting for us. I turned the shaken shaman over to him, apologizing profusely. I certainly hadn’t intended to traumatize the poor man!
My meditation timer went off right then and I didn’t feel like sticking around because I could tell my mere presence there was annoying to them. I bowed and left!
***
