He sat meditating. He/I prefer breathing meditation. It lacks the superfluous stuff, and I think it’s harder. So it’s more interesting. But I’d never say that.
Anyway.
Meditation used to be just about sitting quietly.
Then it was about breathing.
And it was about returning to the breath.
But that was a via towards sitting quietly. That was what I always kind of returned to.
So instead I made it about the breathing. Really the breathing. Active instead of passive.
And tonight I became aware of something else. A spiritual body? I’m not sure what to call it. There was a definitive moment when I all of a sudden became aware of it. Of this thing that I carry along with me. A body that maybe I ride in, the way that my brain rides in my physical body?
I’m really not sure. This is all new.
But I felt it all of a sudden settle like a balaclava over my face and head. And I mean with the confining, stranguling elements of that as well. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it covered. Like a coat of very thick paint. Or warm pancake batter.
I wonder if esp and other spiritual tricks don’t happen because it’s glopped all over my head and no where else. I tried to reach out a pseudopod of it, and maybe that worked. I reached out for my phone so I could see how long I’m been meditating for. I reached for the table (where I usually put it) but found it empty. Then I remembered I’d placed it on the floor next to me. But I’d found the table empty.
Anyway – that’s it. Maybe nothing. But the experience was new.
a forest
October 31
It was unseasonably cold. 20 degreed in Ocotber. The snow started as a light dusting. The air cold enough to prevent the ice crystals from grouping into clumps. That came later.
As the temperature rose the flakes got bigger and bigger. The trees had yet to lose their leaves, so small mountains of snow gathered atop their branches.
Deep in the forest in an area now filled with now drooping evergreens stood a single elm. The evergreens, built for snow, simply bent with the layers of snow not on top of their branches.
Distantly came the sounds of trees shattering under the snow’s weight. It sounded like explosions.
No one was there to see that single elm being to twitch, and then suddenly like a wet dog, twist and shake and toss all the snow from it’s branches.
(notes) the why
They deliberately changed her memories to hide what the engineer was doing. That’s the murder. But it should be mirrored by something else in the real world. Some conspiracy or other bad action.
He split the memories and poison came gushing out (or something like that). He chose her because of all the bad she was doing. Fertile ground.
(notes) the engineer
The problem with opening up a cat to see how it’s works is the first thing you have is a dead cat.
He needed to see how things worked. While we would tend the garden, he needed to go deeper. He asked questions where no one else would.
(later on, his discoveries make all the difference. So it’s it worth it to do horrible things for knowledge?) (what horrible things are caused by his seeking?)
(seventeen) another place
a place
(notes) maybe murder
Starts with a death, and few mourners. It sends like natural causes, but it’s actually supernatural. Maybe part of a supernatural ritual. Who says it’s only the mundys who are trying to hand the system. Ha! Everyone is.
(notes) maybe this is a revenge story
she has to get all of them back – enact her righteous anger. and that’s why her thoughts are so delicious.
(notes) on god cont’d
You love the god that keeps the slaves in line and your pockets full.