One lightning bolt and one 65-foot sycamore tree

Click, Incarnation, Energy

I’m reminded again how easily the mind can switch levels of perception—I’m out walking and—I’m channeling and aligning, and—click—K is there beside me vividly, and it’s almost actual. But—click—I paid too much attention of the—no, of a different kind, and it fell away like gossamer. The normal perception, conperception layers here are very persistent and habitual. But that click—part of it relates to wanting it, sliding into it, but acting/performing at it is part of it.

It’s akin to what I noticed about performing what I’ll call now acts of vision, interacting and including a kinesthetic element with eyes open while “projecting.” (Projecting is not the right word—immersion is better? Projection has an explicit association with disembodiedness, with untethering perception from the body and thus reality. That kinda feeds into normal dualistic, Platonic thinking.)

But, this live immersion approach with the improved, more lucid attention and the blue rainbow sky light faentaur and an active imaginary should make changing these levels and layers quite doable.

I’ve noted I’ve now got the Shores and the ___—the Coastal Forest and the rainforest—the Dark Wood, Hardûun, the glade in the desert, Corunor, and also my daily experience of Saiyûnor and Haisuith. The plains of Haisuith/Saiyûnor are always around me, leading to Elethis, the White Mount, and, now, “that other tree” in the west. That “plain” and the surrounding woods represent [town] and the valley and the local Dream to some degree, but I’ve not done much with it. K reminds me that my attention has been beyond the immediate area—towards Elethis.

So much of the recent experience with the ___ has also made it clear how easily I forget myself and grow tired and afraid/anxious. Unsure and “weak,” less confident. Like a central pillar were removed and replaced—not replaced—I teeter and support myself with hurur and habit. I am mentally, emotionally, spiritually floppy. Like I’ve lost a core strength. Have forgotten myself.

Soul loss. That’s what I’m getting at. That sense of thirst and privation I’ve noted when I’ve drunk and eaten faerie food, as if I’d not eaten in ages—but I think I’ve left some massive part of myself somewhere—there’s a thought: the Path as extended attempt to address Soul Loss on a fundamental level. The HGA/Higher Self is the “soul” we’re trying to recover—but it’s gone a bit rampant, and we’ve been apart for so long that the Loss is second nature, and we have grown so used to it that we’re no longer that person anymore. The Soul Loss of Incarnation?

Mind you, I’m a weirdo who pushes his aura out to the horizon to Elethis and etc.

[WtaW] The Shores?

I’ve called the [some other name] before, but the Many-Colored Lands has been one that seems apropos of late given faentaur and my impressions of the HW.

The land and trees have begun to slumber for winter—I noted this while out the 17th—and their song has quieted. A few lone trees hold out as soloists or small choruses, but we are past the harvest of Samhain.

I feel I’ve managed something fantastic, but it has enriched my life rather than upset or disrupted it. I wonder if my reaction marks me as a fey who has reclaimed a part of herself, or if my response has been a fey one. I can imagine how other _______ would have been—how they perceived and addressed the paths—_______’s approach to the “flows” is along the same lines, I think, but I think I want to reread his BS to see if he’s talking about the same things—. I think, though, that the _______’s fixation on reiki and the energy paradigm invited them—it provided them with a conperceptual and visualization tool, but—well, it fulfills for them what channeling and aligning are doing for me and the Feri. (Attunement vs. alignment—it’s probably a semantic quibble. But they also chose to go the route of “[highly destructive metaphor]” and imprinting their view of things on those they reiki’d up. Also, doesn’t reiki rely on sigils? I’m sure they—I know they developed [their own] WtaW.)

I’m approaching the end of this book, which has seen me through the fall—. I know I feel I’m very repetitive in my writing, but I’m glad at where I’ve gotten of late, and I feel fuller and more confident—even if dealing with [problem people or potential problem people] fills me with a bit of dread and anxiety, but that fades in the light of—well—not freaking out. As I move on to the next book, I bid this one goodbye.

Oh, my fire eye agate showed up—reflecting ill will back on the sender.

Image: One lightning bolt and one 65-foot sycamore tree by U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration


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