Magic and Dreams

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“There is a transcendental dimension beyond language… It’s just hard as hell to talk about!” ~ Terence McKenna

The night sky in Northern New Mexico, up here in the high desert mountain realm, is a testament to clarity. My early morning visit to the outside world, having just arisen from a well-needed bout of sleep, almost needed a nice, full orchestral Brahms chorus, to rejoice unto the vivid star fields above. There was the wheel of the Milky Way, our most generous benefactor, and there was a silence that washed away the mundane neighborhood sounds from my perception, leaving only wonder for a time. I hunkered down against the wall of the house, under the eaves, and watched the starry starry night do it’s thing, hopefully tossing a little edification dance my way. I feel magic in the air this morning. Don’t you? Before we get to the magic, however, I need to comment on the opening photo. That fella in the front is named Henri, and the huge fella behind him is Lautrec. Henri kind of looks like some manner of feline lawyer to me. The look on his face, a strong and confident shelter cat expression, seems to be saying, “Are you honestly dissing my caregivers? Really? Really? Look, whatcha got needs shredding. I’ll help ya. My pals here will be glad to help, see, because . . I’m not sayin’ we’re gangster cats. We just have concerns need addressing.”. Put Clint Eastwood’s voice along with Henri’s brief soliloquy and ya got a fine bit of humor. And Henri weighs in at 18 pounds. Eighteen pounds of shelter cat should stir up some primal “Holy shit” feelings in even the most unfeeling person. Primal runs deep and under our world of words and pretentiousness. Mystery is mystery but the formidable power of an 18 lb. tomcat oughtta give, at least, pause to reflect. If Nature has soldiers Henri is one of them. He’s really a sweetie of a kitty lawyer. Bow in his presence. I do. Honor is way cool.

Second cup of coffee? Check. On more trip outside to vibe in to the world’s current dream? Check. I take a shamanic view of the world. That’s where yer magic comes in. As a professed pagan is allow for many gods and goddesses, some traditional and some, well . . . not so much. I might as well put some shameless self-promotion into the mix here at this point. I had, 30 years ago, an NDE, a Near Death Experience. While on the Other Side I was counseled by a Light Being who seemed to be the Celtic goddess Brighid. I think it was her. She gave me the options of either returning to this life, or staying over yonder. And the one condition of returning was that I must write a book about the NDE visionary journey. I chose to return, and I eventually wrote the book, which you can purchase from Amazon, by clicking here. Also available in a Kindle edition, at a special low price. I ain’t in it for the money. I just want and need to share, k? This is where the Terence McKenna quote comes in. He was one of the integral providers in my learning to put the visionary journey into words. I spent 25 years learning to do so, because it is simply beyond words yet it is “realer than real”, as the lovely and intelligent Dr. Penny Sartori, of Wales, UK so eloquently put it. Penny has a PhD in NDE studies. She included a snippet from me, which explained the electromagnetic side effect phenomena I experienced, in her best selling book, The Wisdom of the Near Death Experience. We traded books, both autographed by the author. I treasure mine. It is intensely beautiful to read. Another integral provider in my quest to gain articulation, where none seemed possible, was Christian de Quincey, a philosopher who’s book, Radical Nature, blew me away. Christian taught me how to use rationality as a tool, Both he and McK know language well. I’m still learning.

So, about magic. Magic is all around us, not hyperbolic magic, I mean the real kind. But magic also gets encapsulated by the worn out dreams we all carry about as we drink coffee, drink Red Bull, and go about our business. I say the dreams are worn out because they were instilled in us as children. Old things get worn out. It happens. As Mark Twain, in his novella, The Mysterious Stranger (free Kindle edition), so eloquently put it, “Find other dreams, and better”. That’s me this morning. I am still in that dreamy space from a conversation with a beautiful woman, yesterday, as we leaned on a cage full of cats, and chatted about things. Yeah, I shoulda been working, I was on the clock. There was a lot of gazing going on as well, a lot of firm eye contact, complete with some of those sidelong glances that are so beautiful to behold in a woman when interrelationship is in full gear; I did some of those too, as I was kinda overwhelmed by the intensity afoot. Never downshift when that happens. Trust me, you’ll lose the friggin magic. You don’t wanna go there. Blue eyes, relaxed and secure demeanor. Blond hair highlighted with silver This became visceral for me. Magic. And boss? We talked some about cats, k? Don’t bust me on this. You want your workers to feel good at work. I felt really good. Lucky, in fact. Honor is way cool, remember?

Time for me to psych up for work. Them kitties deserve my best service and attention. Our work is therapeutic for me. And ya never know who you might run into.

Peace out, y’all. Goof glorious, k?


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