A spiritual experience, told in the format of a Journal entry.

August 27th, 2020
8:42 am, 63*F

How does one begin to describe the world of the spirits? Or even try to give you a map on how to get there safely. The best pointer I could give is meditation. I was never really good at meditation, in a traditional sense. I went inward, but I went to a place of darkness, rather than a calm, light.

I dipped into my hate, my depression, and my anger. They were my emotional fuel to get to the other side. I guess one should prob try the light side first. I was never one of those people who did what most do. I stared at my ceiling, listened to music that I liked at that time, and cleared my mind. In the process of doing so, I went into a hypnotic sleeping pattern. Thus astral travel for me is easiest in a sorta sleep like state.

I can’t sit in any of those fancy Buddhist positions for meditation, either. I like to be sitting or laying down in a comfortable position. All those no-no’s, worked for me. I used to jam out to the anti-meditation music, like NIN, Bjork, and Tool. But those three in particular have some really hypnotic and melodic music. The kind that could change your consciousness, if you knew how to listen to it properly. And what I love the most about those three bands is that they all sing about astral travel and magic.

One of my many astral travels led me to the “Web of Life,” as I like to call it. It’s when I first looked out and saw the inter-connectedness of everyone and everything. I saw a huge web with a great rainbow/white light at the center. I saw that my higher self was connected to everything and everyone. That all I had to do was extend my hand and connect with my higher sleeping self. And I would be among the awoken.

I was scared though. Taken down by my insecurities and doubts. They even asked me to join them. But I felt that my darkness (at that time) was over powering and I didn’t want to infect them with my sadness. I should have taken that leap of faith, but doubt is a cruel mistress.

I look back at that time in my life, when all I really needed was a strong hug and to be told that “this too shall pass.” I was consumed with grief over my father’s death and obsessed with dying. I couldn’t see the beauty in life and suffering. I had lost my lust for life when my dad died. Losing a parent is like developing a black hole in your soul. A vortex of pain and suffering that never fully heals.

I still cry over my dad, but I don’t let it consume me anymore. I should have realized that everyone loses someone that they cared about in life. Everyone, eventually cries over the loss of a loved one. And that, the pain I thought I was consumed by, was no more or less than what anyone else’s has already experienced. My pain was not unique, and it was not going to infect anyone negatively. Especially not those highly evolved souls in that “Web of Life.”

I have a few books published on Amazon. My newest book is called, “The Firestorm of Tears.”

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