Saturday, January 29, 2005

Travelogue, Part 3, Kundalini Rising.

After meeting The Man on the Beach I doubt I remembered it with any great intensity. I knew that ‘something’ had happened to me but things were happening to me all the time during this period and they all had supernatural aspect.

I went back to S.F. and moved around through the community there. You could meet almost anyone at this time and I had some portion of that but it’s irrelevant to the main issue. Somehow I hooked up with a couple of Arizona nutcases who got affected by my view and they prevailed on me to come to Arizona where, “all kinds are people are waiting to meet you.” They were in town to buy some acid and other comestibles. I traveled down to Phoenix with them and into the Paradise Valley area. I had it in mind to climb around in The Superstition Mountains which, if I remember aright, you could see from where I was.

I met a lot of people and then these characters prevailed on me to go to Mexico with them. We did and they visited the whores and did what they did and people wanted to sell us grass but we knew better and had even left the ounce bottle back in a culvert on the other side. Well, someone in Mexico contacted the border people. It was a regular thing there to sell pot to the gringo’s and then turn them in. You got to keep the money and stay in business too. They stripped the van and found nothing. But they followed us into Arizona, lost us while we picked up the pot in the culvert and then found us again. They did a squeeze play on the highway and the idiot with the pot waited until the van stopped and then dropped the bottle out the window. Caught with these guys and less than half an ounce of pot I was charged with smuggling which carried an automatic five years. I had a two to ten waiting for the two ounces I allegedly provided in VA, which was a federal thing. I spent two months in Nogales and Maricopa jails and they never connected me. How I came to walk out into the daylight free and clear is a tale of magic meant for a more comprehensive effort.

I went back to Paradise Valley and everyone I had met was gone. After a few idyllic weeks by a glittering pool I found myself on The Black Rock (or Black Canyon) Highway headed back to D.C. I should add that the feds were in high pursuit of me all though I only knew about the concentration of their efforts later. They were destined to never successfully catch me again; the larger time I spent in captivity came about after another fashion and I’ll be getting to that.

I got back to D.C. in the fall and soon after ran into John Hall in DuPont Circle. Terry Jones father had a house in Virginia and John and friends wanted to go there for a night of music and psychedelia. Jack O’Connor, a fine drummer was along and there were a couple or three other guys whom I cannot remember.

Here is what I remember. I was sitting in the living room. John and another fellow were to my right wailing on the guitars. Others were here and there. I first noticed that the art on the walls all turned from Occidental to Oriental. Then I noticed that John’s music suddenly switched to some sort of minor key Hindu-like repeating lick (like so much that happened, no one had any idea of what was happening or how their participation came to be what it was). Then I felt this surging force in my body that wanted to lift my arms and hands into the air. I didn’t know why or to what end. I saw a fellow across the room and thought he was a witch. I thought an enchantment was being thrown on me. I really didn’t have a clue. I resisted. The whole room was pulsing with force and I am sure everyone was catching something. The notes John was playing began moving through my body and pinging at different locations. The force I was experiencing was too strong for me to control and I just said “God I trust you.” And let go. Instantly my hands went into mudras (I didn’t know what they were then). My hands went like the Man on the Beach’s except not holding reins- forefinger and little finger extended and the other two clasped at the palm- an ancient dance manifested, Shiva-like, very disturbing to my companions. On the carpet before me little red devils appeared with their backs bent before me. All energy of that nature inside and outside of me came under control. A solid outline of radiant green, like a thin neon tube surrounded my form; I entered John’s mind and could read his thoughts clearly. He felt me and freaked. He pushed, tried to push me out, but it didn’t work. I could feel his ego raging at the intrusion. Personally I thought it was great. I then realized there was only one mind and we all shared it.

It was awhile before I realized that the things I sought and enjoyed and considered normal just scared the shit out of everyone else. I embraced the wild unknown as familiar territory. ‘Almost’ everyone else ran like Hell.

I rose to my feet; the power coming off of me was so intense that everyone in the room was frozen and watching in disbelief. I felt it was time to go outside. I stepped out upon the back lawn which was circled by deep woods. It was a world I had never seen before. I walked on the Earth and the force of my footsteps shook the ground. Whatever, whoever it was who was inside me was more powerful than anything I could have imagined before. I didn’t have to imagine it, it was happening. In front of me were five golden cobras in electric silhouette. Their heads were raised about three feet off the ground. It was very cartoon like. Off to my left were a number of cat silhouettes, not filled in like the cobras; that of a cat sitting and facing forward, not in profile. There was a number 9 that filled the entire outline of their shape up to the eyes. I cannot remember how many of them there were but they were lined up in a row.

I was coursing with force. I knew the others were in turmoil inside and watching from inside. The whole thing was incomprehensible to them. I strode off toward the woods intending to go into them. There were all manner of fifth dimensional creatures in outline all about. The night was alive with life forms I had never encountered before. I did not go far into the woods. I was returned to the yard. I connected this finally with the Man on the Beach. There was no question he was behind this. I walked back into the house and into the kitchen. Two guys were standing there. I pointed (whether intentionally or not- I have no idea) at the feet of one of them and his feet went right out from under him. His friend laughed but they were both freaked; events like this and events much more surprising than this became commonplace afterwards. Everyone was truly freaked except me. I was loving this. I should point out that at the initial moment that the energy rushed up in me. It washed ‘me’ out. There was no longer a me. It seemed as if there never had been.

I went upstairs into a bathroom and looked at my face. In this period many identities came and went. After this I was at times in an Egyptian underground area with hieroglyphics and torches and old memories, in green and yellow robes standing on flagstones in China, many places- I could see writing, like Hebrew but not Hebrew, written into the form of every thing; trees, the ground, any object. It was a flame alphabet, vibrating and alive and which was the actual integrity of whatever the thing was.

It is impossible to record all of the things that transpired there and thereafter. Suffice to say that many of them repeated over and over again. I always came into new permutations and understandings but the realm I was in seldom changed. These planes exist. I have been there many times. A proficiency in the martial arts was given me that night along with many another thing. It took some time and other events for me to pick up on this and much practice to coordinate but it all came internally. Other times found me directly involved in the practice of these things and often interacting with forces of nature who showed up to play or instruct. The intensity of that night lasted for several years before the unfortunate integration, that I am presently climbing out of, allowed me a more protective camouflage.

We drove back to D.C. and I couldn’t be gotten out of the car soon enough. I didn’t see John again for some time after. He was famous by then and in no mood for anything that related to what had happened. It looked that way; I just said hi in passing and passed. I was not something he wanted to be reminded of.

After that the world changed. For some time I had a great deal of power and it spun me from coast to coast through many an environment. A group gathered around me in the LA and Palm Springs area as well as in D.C. The police were chasing me at all times but always missing me even when they knew where I was. On a number of occasions I encountered the police but they rather got quick of me as soon as they could. Whatever it was that I was, was too much to contain or oppose for some long time. During the tail end of this sequence I ran into Elvis and many other people, encountered life forms from other worlds and traveled in time to past events that though significant for me I did not understand and still do not understand. Even in the coldest weather I never needed a coat.

I wound up leaving Palm Springs in early winter with the idea of heading back East. I had a companion who was headed out of town, going home somewhere. The police had been at us in a confrontation earlier and we both were going. There was a turnoff on the road between Palm Springs and Indio that was just a short squiggle on the map. It connected to the highway to Arizona and beyond. That little squiggle turned out to be over 35 miles, most of it through a haunted Indian burial ground and wild desert. Deep into the red rock canyons of the burial ground (very few cars ever passed us and none stopped) a lone police cruiser appeared and took my companion away. He recognized me from the day before but just left me there. Night fell and Jinn’s and what have you from the inferior kingdom appeared, big time. Words cannot accurately describe what I was up against. As has ever been the case, I did something without knowing why. I said, “How are you my friends?” I made them my friends and they walked with me all that night until the highway arrived at dawn. I can only liken this to Aragorn going through the path of the dead in the LOTR. That is the most like it that I can think of. They howled and blew on all sides and I danced and camped it up with them all the way. I learned quite the lesson with this and I was surely going to need it where I was headed next.

I have left so much out of this and yet I see I will have to write two more pieces before I can do the finish post. Even so, they will be much sparser than these last because they will span a greater time. I’m neither happy nor comfortable writing this. It makes me uncomfortable. I am also chagrined that so many things have not been included that were so very important. But the gist is there. I still don’t know what any of it means and I am far more surprised at the way things went afterward considering the way things were before.

I'm just riffing this out as it comes to mind. I'm impatient with it to a degree. I don't really want to travel over this ground but I realize it's important to do it, however non comprehensively and without the reflection that would make it more cohesive. I've never done this before. To me my personal biography is unimportant. Where I've been means nothing. A personal history is a liability on the path and though I am truthful and accurate in my recording what portions I am recording, all of this is meaningless insofar as the present which is all there is of anything. I've had years of supernatural events. No one can tell me such things don't exist or hope to baffle me with their sciences, their philosophies or their religions. There is a great deal of difference between experience and speculation. I've no doubt of the reactions of the Don's in their studys and all who've walked and recorded the familiar paths of the wider congregated pushing crowds. Most everything I've heard has proven irrelevant or flat out wrong when it comes to what is.

I'll be glad when this is done and I can get back to the daily surprise of finding out what's for lunch while I'm cooking it.


Anonymous said...

Well, I have the benefit of knowing a little about you and even talking to a couple of your friends, so- I've heard about some of these things but not in this kind of detail. It's funny how this period contrasts with the later period. What a trip.

z a

Anonymous said...

I've been following this site for some time since picking up on you over at Slate. In reading what you've been doing here I am struck by something that may not have occured to you.

You speak on so many subjects with such a convincing vision and with such certainty. I've not come across the like before. It seems, if I can project, that you might be surprised that you haven't gotten any answers and you haven't achieved to a public recognition of your work outside of limited areas.

It would seem that as remarkable as your talents are (I've heard your music and read your book)that you would be in high demand and that some amount of breaks would have come your way.

I believe in God. Like you've said, "I don't just believe, I know there is a God." What I'm getting is that all of this has yet to be resolved. You're being kept on hold for a reason and I believe it is a good one. I think some fortuitious sequence of events is going to occur and then thrust you, if not into international prominence then certainly into the lives of a wider circle of people.

You see, I sense your confusion. I haven't heard all of the tale yet but you've written in other places about more recent things and your web sites give some indications.

The thing is, 'it' knows you. 'It' has got some wide scale plan and these things that have happened are all a shaping of the pot. It's funny how many of the things you say apply so accurately to the point you yourself have to hold to. Carry on.

Anonymous said...

You're just warming up aren't you? Hah! Good copy. Too bad you have to leave so much out. This would make a great film, hell, it probably was.


Anonymous said...

Not even sure what to say. Just want to let you know I'm reading.

Fun stuff...


Anonymous said...

Ripping good tale but I have to echo what I seem to be hearing here from the others. As well as you write it is a real pity that you don't take the opportunity to go long. I don't think anyone cares if you do 20 or 30 chapters in the process. I expect you want to get quit of it but keep in mind for after just how exciting the whole thing would be. After all, it's real life, even if it seems unreal to everyone who never lived.

Evan Brooks, Mill Valley, CA

Anonymous said...

I'm still laughing about The White Rabbit. Now I'm chuckling every few minutes about huge night demons saying to each other, "Cool, he wants to be our friend."

After awhile all the coincidences add up to something besides a coincidence.



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