Sunday, October 31, 2010

Lessons from Meditation - 10.31.10 "Baby Mama Earth"



I got lost in meditation earlier. My thoughts took me to who knows where.  I am learning to let them take the steering wheel sometimes without filtering them.

Some of the imagery used to be startling when I began practicing this calming art (meditation), and I would often find myself wanting to alter and censor what I saw. There was always this need to dress it up, make it more favorable or more to my liking.

As a result, I couldn't lose myself or embrace the stillness of it. Had to learn to "get lost in space..." (c) Radio Galaxy... lol.  Thus, I am slowly learning to let go of the desire for the misconception that is the controlling of one's thoughts. Instead, I'd just like to master them. That is, understand them somehow...Make peace with them and receive their offerings of wisdom and expression. Not wrestle them to the ground and subdue them with brute force.

Anyway, while there (wherever "there" was/is), the divine voice accompanied me. It seemed to be my tour guide, or teacher if you will, taking the lead as images flashed before me. As we floated in space, it showed me Earth from a distance...and then Earth became a small fragile egg in a vast womb.

An object hit it (a comet perhaps or a spacecraft traveling at unfathomable speed), and there was a trail of light behind it that looked like a tail from afar. There was a ripple effect - in effect, how water looks when a pebble is tossed into it. A vibration. The scene in its totality was reminiscent of a sperm making its way to a woman's egg for fertilization. And with that, the planet was pregnant with numerous life forms.

They began as tiny beings in the waters (amniotic fluid). Then, when they broke out of the water, they began to crawl, and then walk on land, until they were full fledged upright citizens - the you and me's of today. The babies had grown up right before me within a few seconds it seemed. Both amazing and bewildering to behold their gestation and development alongside the earth's.

It is a musical note whose vibration carries on, climbing level after level. Thoughts becoming real birthing more thoughts that become real, all eventualities running parallel to one another in a waltz of continuum. Creative creations creating as their Creator has - which makes them creators too. A cycle that serves as the epitome of being fruitful and multiplying oneself. Do you see?, the voice said.

"Yes. . . and I'd like to see more...I am open", I replied.

In due time, budding soul. In due time... and with that, our trip ended.

I came out of my trance...counting backwards slowly from 10 to 1, still poised lotus-style, feet and toes tingling with numbness now.  I wondered how long I'd been under.

I grabbed something to write with.


- kj

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Random Musings: "Space Monkeys In People Suits"





Just when you think you've got yourself all sussed out, the dawning realization of the futility of your efforts laughs at you.

"You're getting much warmer, yet you're not even close", it seems to say mockingly.  "One can not grasp completely what is always expanding and ever-changing."

So, it's like pin-pointing the center of something that has no definite beginning or end, is it?  We do that a lot. Or at least, profess to...

We want to believe in something. Want to know something. Need to know. We hope to place our hands upon definite evidence, to grasp it, and possess it. Maybe even call it our own... and not have it turn out to be a Truman Show styled hoax at the end of the day.

We are Pinocchios that want to be real. We have something to prove to confirm our own existence; a proverbial pinch to ensure we are awake. Belting "Hear me. See me...I am...I have conquered...", in child-like voices.

We search for proof of life in our reflections on some mornings. But that is not you smiling as you've been taught to and waving cordially back in the mirror there.

No, that dear heart, is your human suit. Your space apparel fashioned for form and functionality in the physical realm. It is the outfit you can not live [earth life] without.

What's wearing it is any man's guess...


- kj

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Dream Log Entry: 10.14.10 "I Ain't Afraid'a No Ghost..."







While flipping channels, I came across a talk show that struck me as odd.  Can't recall what they were discussing, but I settled on the station. 

The man and woman on-screen seemed to be speaking directly to me. Whatever they were saying, they were surprised that I understood them. 

I inched closer to the television set, and the woman whispered to the man, "Look...I told you she can see us. She has the eyes."

I thought my ears were deceiving me. She couldn't have said that. She couldn't possibly be watching me as I watched them. 

 They both seemed shocked with a slight hint of relief. I didn't understand why yet. But I would soon. Very soon. 

"Tell the others," the man instructed her. She straightened her posture, adjusted her shirt collar and brushed imaginary lint off of her sleeves.  Then she began. 

"To all of you that can hear me... We found her. She knows...and she can sense us. Go to her." she announced. I was confused, but I shrugged it off. They went off air. I cut off the t.v. and laid down on the bed. 

Suddenly, I felt movement in the empty bed space next to me. I looked over to find the sheets moving and the bed sinking in slightly as if someone had just climbed in with me. I thought I could faintly make out an outline of someone sitting upright peering down at me. I tried to swallow my fear. 

He . . . she. . . it? signaled to another shadow of a person standing at the foot of the bed and remarked, "What they said was true. She really can sense us." 

And with that, a large hoard of them started walking through the doorway of my bedroom and they gathered around my bed to stare at me. I heard one of them say, "I didn't think they could sense us....but this one can..."  They all marveled at the fact. 

When one of them reached out and gently touched my face, I jerked with fright into an upright sitting position both in the dream and in reality. 

*cue my alarm clock* 

- kj

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Dream Log Entry: 10.13.10 "Him, The Underground & Lift Offs"



Here are my dreams from the past few days, or rather as much of them as I am able to recall this far after the fact. Should've documented them sooner. There are pieces missing, I'm sure. But even the most minute particles of memory hold within their fragmented selves a thread of validity to contribute to the quilt.

A'ight. The rundown, as concise and bare as possible:



10.11.10
Him again. We talked. I have no idea what about. "I'm testing your strength and staying power..." he said. That's all that stands out.

10.12.10
Me and a group of friends (of which he was a part of) were trapped in a dark tunnel underground. The number 50 stands out. I don't know why. 50 feet under the earth, I think.

As we maneuvered through the tunnel, it started to resemble an abandoned, dimly lit parking garage - each level presenting us with a different obstacle to surpass. Someone asked, "How the hell will we ever get out of here?" No one knew. No one offered a response.

I noticed a huge crack in one of the walls, and as I examined it more closely, I noticed that it formed a pattern...a shape of some kind. I traced its edges with my fingertips and then stepped back to get a broader view. It was in the shape of a Grammy award, I thought. The moment I realized what it was, light began emanating through the cracks and the shape began to move out of its place in the wall and the ground shook violently.

Suddenly, the divine voice spoke to me, and this time the group heard it too. "You've toiled in the background for so long... Now comes light. Heal through song," it said.

The light got brighter. It covered me. "Go now. This is your 'out'..." the voice instructed.

I didn't know where I was going. But I followed the light and walked through the wall. The group followed. We got out. Destination unknown; but by golly...we got out.


10.13.10 
As a means of rewarding our efforts & artistic achievements as native Houstonians who positively represented the essence of Space City, the city of Houston and NASA joined forces and invited me and the fellas on a trip to accompany its astronauts to the moon. We had to endure a couple of weeks of training in preparation for our adventure.

Fast forward to that fateful day. We boarded the space shuttle, doubling over in nervous excitement. The big guy was sweating. The other tried to look composed to conceal anxiety. I worried mostly about the fact that we were physically going to be OFF THE PLANET and the sun would be back at home... back on that blue ball that would fade into the distance... back on the earth we'd always known...without me.

The countdown was already underway, and I hadn't noticed with my mind focused so intensely on that last thought. There was a huge rumbling as lift off began. No sooner than we exited the earth's atmosphere did something hit the space ship! The fury of the slam tossed us about like rag dolls and when we regained composure, me and the fellas looked wide-eyed. We all panicked.

"Oh sh*t, we're gonna die! I knew we shouldn't have done this!" one of them yelled. (I'm not at liberty to say which one) . . .Although this sentiment was the general consensus among the three of us, he blurted it out first.  lol!

"How do we contact earth?! I need to call my baby! If this is what it's gonna be, I can't go out without saying goodbye to him." I said, in a voice of helpless resignation. There was nothing any of us could have done to help ourselves in the middle of nowhere, literally. So optimism was bull crap at this point. Or so we thought.

The crew leader communicated with the base in Houston, explaining what had happened. Then he came to explain it to us. He reassured us that this is experienced sometimes in space flight. We had simply encountered a small scattered meteor shower. A tiny meteorite had nicked the ship, but caused no real damage. We would all be fine.

The trip continued. The ride was bumpy at certain points. We laughed at ourselves for freaking out.

We made it to the moon and back perfectly in tact.


- kj

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Becoming Write - 10.06.10



I have nothing worthwhile to type or say. No subject in mind. No pre-packaged idea. No dream to relay.  No. . . destination. I am adrift in a boat with no row in the primordial sea of thought. My fingers move of their own volition. Only spirit and mind dance now. I willingly submit.

When I close my eyes, I am naked unto myself. Formless. Nameless. I am not Pam's daughter, Kim, Zeni's mama, or any of my aliases. I am timeless. Genderless.  An oddity enveloped by the surrounding darkness. No one special. Nothing more than a fetus cushioned by abysmal waters; oblivious to the chaos that prevails outside its own.

Space is the womb. But whose? Am I a merely a planet, and how does one become the Sun? Better yet, how did I birthed one?

Why do computer chips resemble aerial views of cities? Was that intentional?

Could I be the proverbial insect in a divine ant farm, overseen by gods or aliens alike who observe our lives for either entertainment or self-comprehension? Who are the producers and creators of Earth: The Reality Show? How are the ratings? Who's the star?

Perhaps I'm the distant ancestor of an atom (adam) that loaned its riboflavin (rib) to catalyze evolution (eve).  My questions are often pebble tosses into a lake that ripples on and on and on and on and...on...in endless continuum. Too cerebral, by far.

Still, today I am humble. I hope to remain so in the tomorrows that follow.

Today I am as curious as I was yesterday. Curiosity killed the cat. But I am not one in this lifetime. I walk upright in this incarnation.

Today. . . in this moment. . . I am whole. One. Connected. Attuned. Picking up signals in all directions.  At peace with all that I assume I am, and all that I proclaim I am not.

Yes, sailing in a sea of constant becoming.

 If you're coming. . . well. . . open your eyes.



- kj

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Dream Log Entry - 10.05.10 "Makes No Sense At All"




I became conscious of the fact that I was dreaming when she knocked on the door. It was Erykah Badu. No, I don't know her personally...but apparently, the other me does. Either that, or she symbolizes someone in my life that reminds me of her - or maybe an energy that I've made peace with even. Dream language has meanings that extend across numerous dimensions; so one never quite knows.

We hugged and exchanged pleasantries. She asked what I was cooking. I advised that I was just about to heat up the rest of some homemade veggie soup I'd concocted. She grabbed a bowl off the table and replied, "Oh now, you gon' have to share that." We laughed.

My sisters were in the kitchen heating up their portions of the soup as well. For them, I'd prepared various side dishes to choose from too.  I encouraged them all to help themselves to either of the two cakes on the table that a good friend had made for me. They did. No hesitation at all, as if they'd been waiting for me to give them the green light so they wouldn't have to ask.

We sat around, eating and talking as women do. Female bonding. Sharing stories and experiences. The energy in the room was strong. My place smelled of food and patchouli. One of my sisters kept butting into a conversation that Badu and I were engaged in. I reminded her that it was rude. She relented before leaving the table, "Sorry...just can't believe she's here...in your apartment."

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. We all ceased our actions and conversations. I was annoyed, "I'm not expecting anybody. Hope the neighbors didn't see you come in [Erykah], and now they're coming for autographs and such. Wanted you to be able to chill in peace."

I shuffled along to the front door, expecting to see a group of nosey birds with cameras poised, anxious to catch a glimpse of the person that they were sure was Badu.  I braced myself and got ready to block them from barging into my spot. . . but for naught. I was wrong. Instead, it was him. Again. Popping up as he always does.

I opened the door and smiled in relief. "Oh, it's just you. I thought you were someone else."

"Why?" he looked confused.

"Well. . . because. . . " I signaled to Badu. "Look who's here."

"Ahhh, I see," he walked over to hug her. "How've you been maam? Good seeing you again. What brings you down here?" She explained she had a spur-of-the-moment show at a secret location in Houston and wanted to drop in to see her people first. Apparently, we both were friends with her on the other side.

He looked at me, "Hey you...Didn't mean to pop up like this. Don't be mad. Got off of work early and wanted to talk to you in person about something. You got a sec?"

"Well, I kinda have company right now. Can it wait til later on maybe?" I reminded him.

"Well... I mean... I just thought... well, I guess I should've called first...Can't expect for you to just not have your own stuff going on, right?... " he fumbled.

Badu interjected, "It's okay sis. Me and the girls are gonna go hang out for a while. We'll be back... You stay here and have that talk. It's overdue." She winked and smiled.

They left. I locked the door behind them.

We sat there for a moment in silence. The imagery had become so vivid and life-like that I could almost reach out and touch him and he wouldn't have disappeared, faded to vapor or morphed into something else like most dream figures do. The kicker was that I could clearly smell his scent. It seemed more pronounced now than when he first walked in. It was familiar. Where had I smelled it before? I couldn't recall, and that bothered me.

Finally, he began to speak. It was garbled. I couldn't make it out. Whatever he was saying, it seemed sincere enough. Of all the senses that had suddenly been magnified, why did the one I needed most at this moment  decide to fail me?! My hearing grew lower and lower as he spilled his guts to me about whatever it was that he had to express so immediately. His words faded into a whisper.

The divine voice came to me through the rubble - always arriving with its lesson or riddle. It said: Much will be shared, but how do you expect to receive it when you're standing so far away in that fortress. Get out of there. Come closer. . . 

Botswana.

His scent grew even stronger. Still no sound. At least I remembered where'd I'd smelled the aroma before at that point. I closed my eyes, swallowed my nervousness, took a deep breath,  and inhaled a strong whiff of that signature scent in the dream.

Then, I woke up in reality. . . to a nose bleed.

The universe got jokes 'n whatnot.

- kj