An uninitiated Hermetic experience

[Flying Kites]

I dreamt the morning March 6th, waking about 0200, that I supped at a table with several people but notably one woman seated across from myself. Her features white, her hair absolutely although she was exceedingly fair. I simply remember a lot of whiteness in everything, blindingly so. This dream rapidly exited into one very memorable. I was in a rusted desert with nothing to the horizon but blue, clear sky. I was outside of a warehouse close to an open doorway to the interior of it, on the side of the building facing opposite the Sun and shaded. Outside this doorway was a water heater. I was kneeling to the ground and adjusting a pipe. This pipe had two interlocked levers and lifting one moved the other. This loosened the connection to the pipe allowing hot steam and water to escape. Figuring that the adjustment was enough, I ceased messing around with the thing, leaving it to spray. I then, almost expectedly, noticed the arrival of a beautiful woman. She had a red ballcap obscuring her eyes as she walked swiftly into the shade, or rather that I only noticed her once she was in the shade. She had on a white overall, short to the thigh above the knee and hung about the shoulders. She was tanned, skin nearly the color of her hair. Sandy blonde? She rapidly walked past me into the warehouse carrying some sort of supplies. I stood and followed being certain that I knew who she was. I determined her name just as I too had passed inside. I had pointed directly at her that my finger compassed from my direct line of sight to her face, her red ballcap now gone, disappeared, still walking away further inside and turning her head back towards me she smiled. She is Grace, I said. She agreed.

Something I have never experienced before then settled into me, or I into it, the description seemingly the same. I awoke from that dream to the darkness behind the eyelids. I did not open my eyes. An ecstasy was taking hold of myself, and I nearly reigning it through an intuitive process of feeling. Sparks filling the eyes where it overtook darkness. Winds roaring past my ears, although it sounded like murmuring at its weakest. Trembling throughout my entire body that I could not keep my mouth shut. My mandible slackened. I was able to sort of play around with this gaining some measure of control of my breathing and struggling to keep that mandible up. It just became too intolerable, nearly painful, and very loud! So I stopped and I understood that I stopped it. It makes me curious what could have been after that had I gone the other way through it if there was anything, although I suspect that circumstances are far from prominent for the success.

I don't prepare before sleep. I don't concentrate on breath and the final thoughts before sleep. I am probably developing ulcers from a high fat and high beer diet. I have injured my spine twice, twenty and seventeen years apart by being retarded and fat.

This was certainly no dream paralysis event. I have never had dream paralysis - Blood, Spasmoparalytic Dreams. Two friends have, and it sounded like true paralysis. The mechanism behind my confused control of the intensity of the sensations I experienced seemed to be in the breath and in manipulating a "fluid" behind the ears close to the neck, almost in the skull at the base. The more I concentrated on breath and this fluid, the more intense became the sensations until I decided that was enough and I backed out of it.

I have only had a joy in dreaming for as long as I can remember, the dreams being my most faithful memories. The child's tales of mythology I gave impressions to, I read early on that exceeded anything I could have seen from the static images of entertainment.

From an initiatic point of view, to know does not mean "to think," but to be the known object. Something is not really known until it is realized, or, in other words, until one's consciousness is transformed into it. - Introduction to Magic, Ea, On the Initiatic Nature of Knowledge

The date of the event coincides with a significant astrological transit. Moon sextiles itself. Mars sextiles itself and is conjunct to natal Saturn.

[antichrist]

People ask why dreams exist. The answer is that our brain needs them, or our minds need them, or maybe the world needs them. In any case, they seem to bridge worlds or layers of this world.

[prime]

The idea of lucid dreaming appeals to me. To inspect the imagery of the subconscious is to find where it connects with the daylight world.

[Flying Kites]

Christopher Cilician, July 8th, 2024, 0000, Missoula, MT, USA

Father's home. Relation to myself unknown as in automatic, uninitiated, dog like. Clutter in the home, items scattered. Sleeping comfortably upon the floor, no bother the disarray.

Exuent

Animals:
deer bodied, jackal eyed or dogged, wheat for hair, domesticated in a cage
otter cat, absolutely loveable
large, domestic, black American short hair, cat, also loveable

Exuent

Familiars: my home, my people, myself, my world. Cataclysm from Space asteroids. The story of one family's destiny to outpace the destruction of their world through rebirth of themselves and the world via some assimilating process. Can often go awry, mistakes having been made. Learn humility. Secrets safe. She Lives.

Exuent

I am in a white room with diffuse light, apparently a 1990s styled suburban American cookiecutter house, the closet of which, large, walk-in, possibly 5 yards long by 4 yards wide and a little less than that tall. The floors and walls are bare. Few items, seemingly children's toys alternate on the wire wrought shelving where clothing normally hangs, a moment there and a moment gone. I am removing the room. I am again experiencing the event of March 6th, 2024 at about 0000 or 0200 in Missoula, MT, USA. More on the experience later.

In about as chronological as I can describe:
Sleeping on the floor in my father's home. We are about as familiar to each other as dogs are which would be absurb for humans, and getting along better given the situation. (Point to be made there) Cluttered, scattered home. Most rooms in the sequence of dreams are American modern suburban.

A room of warm light. Father possibly nearby. The deer jackal's eyes are real. It seems trapped behind its bisquit wheat hair as much as the cage. The otter cat imbued myself with a feeling of intense love. A sense of direct communication with it as it clung to me with sharp claws. The black cat was a more familiar animal to the Earth and I loved it no less than the otter cat. It also clinging to me.

Emerging into the next dream is confused and may both precede and accede my emergence from the closet dream. I am in a beautiful world in a beautiful home with beautiful people. We each know the same thing but are each our own as much as the other which is the best paradox. Secrets are known and are no less secret. Something is at work, for soon enough mountains begin exploding and the sky darkens, massive rocks barely repelled by invisible force. The world, these people, and myself are disintegrating but doing so willfully and with the conscious ability to reform. I mean disintegrating like a rock becoming sand. At first the violence becomes real, people cling and mingle with others. Those who know are easily able to become the dissolution. We reform on this "other side" creating a world out of a desert. Some don't make it back whole, often a complete mess, the best accept it with simple minds and pass on. They are put to rest.

The memory so fresh, I seemed to want to return to that dream again and again seeing what more we could create but I was in a closet in an ugly American modern bourgeois existence. So I suppose I tried to gain that familiarity again that I had known with them, and otter cat. My senses were exploding once more such as on March 6th except I was certainly dreaming unlike lying down on the floor with my eyes closed. The effect was much more potent possibly for having a couch to sleep on. I was removing the closet, almost dissolving it through the light of my eyes. The trembling of the body and roaring noises were still present and just as fierce as last time. I became afraid of the sensations, so I projected an image of a powerful beast into the fog ahead of me where it was joined to the fog and was more of a guarding presence then. I was just recently in a closet, and yet I am not certain what I then felt except that I was going to return to wakefulness and that I could have done more, and I remained there remembering those others who were so much as I am, but different in that weird, life-like way.