Sunday, December 28, 2008

Archeology, Ghosts and Dreams

I think I was asleep. It's been a long time since I had an experience and genuinely didn't know afterward if I had been asleep or awake or somewhere in between. This was yesterday morning I think. Or the day before.

I was standing in the dirt with a blue sky overhead. In front of me and off to the side a bit was a small and motley assortment of people who appeared to be doing archeology work. Digging something out. I walked casually toward them, feeling a tug on my memory, but unable to place it, and so shrugging it off. Most of them were sitting below the plane of the land that surrounded the location. It went down probably 15-20' before it reached the artifact area, and at that point, there was a shallow, perhaps 3-5 foot deep, squared inset area, maybe 30-40' squared (wild guess, don't remember exactly). Several steps the full width of the area led up the sides of the inset area.

Behind where most of them worked, visible in the wall of dirt they had dug back to, a couple of columns had already been dug free, and it looked like more were behind that, awaiting. I figured this meant it was some greco-roman kind of building, given the look of the columns. I turned slightly and saw that there were a few small handwritten signs around that described different areas of what they were digging out. As there were people around, tourists it seemed, I thought this might be to reduce how often they bothered the people digging with questions.

I was just about to turn and leave when I noticed the small sign pointing to "the courtyard" inset area, as it called it. I looked back at it again, that tug-of-memory bothering me, and then all the sudden it hit me: I used to live there. I knew that place.

It wasn't an inset courtyard. It had been a shallow pool.

I managed to find the 'person in charge' of the excavation, a man. I told him that he had it wrong; that there was no inset courtyard but an inset pool. I told him that it had been beautiful and clear which suggested there was a water inlet and outlet somewhere that he hadn't dug out yet, and gave some ideas on where to look. I told him how far the columnic area went back, and how over to the sides had been where we slept. And I admitted to him that I knew all this because of a dream I once had.

I remembered the dream clearly. Even conscious I remember it pretty well, though not nearly as well as I did when I was talking to the archeologist. The dream was from several years ago.

I was a young woman living with many other young women in this building. We didn't wear very much in the way of clothing, as if it was very warm. Life was very simple and filled with prayer, focused a bit on beauty (and our beauty). We slept in the same room, most of us. We had other people who also lived with us, older-elders, a few, and several men who had roles I'm not clear on now.

One day we found one of our sisters (priestesses maybe? we weren't physically related) drowned in the pool in the morning. Her body was floating face down. We were stunned and stricken and we buried her with much grief, baffled at how she had managed to drown herself in the night. It was common for us to walk about at night, and the nights were often warm, and a relaxed swim in the pool for awhile to help bring on sleep was not unusual. Nobody had ever managed to drown while doing it though, until then.

Just when we were getting over that, like a bad dream that we were starting to forget and blur with the mercy of time, another of our group was found drowned in the morning. We were terribly upset now and prayed fervently for an answer. Was it a punishment from the gods? Was it foul play? Why did we hear nothing? Was she possessed in some fashion?

Our life had not known fear until then. It seemed we'd had it so blissful, then, before the fear came. Before one young woman after another, a few weeks apart, would be found, silent and drowned, in the morning light.

Some time had passed when I found I couldn't sleep one evening. I got up, bare of feet but some jewelry and in something I'm guessing is similar to a form of toga, and I quietly walked around the building. Nobody appeared to be awake, except someone quietly moving in the pool at the front. I stepped slowly into the pool, seeing one of the elders there. Thankfully, I thought: if only we always had two of us together like this, we would know we were safe. We should not be swimming alone anymore. He and I spoke quietly for awhile, as I floated on my back toward the center. He wanted to pray with me, at least I think that was it; and I felt his gentle hand on my head; and then he pushed me under. And he held me there fully underwater until my struggles finally ceased, and then my body's spasms at last-ditch efforts at survival ceased, and he released my body, spreading my arms out so it would stay face down.

I knew I was supposed to be dead. I knew that if I just turned my head a little, I could see and feel this huge sense of light-and-longing, and I should go.

But I was still furious. It didn't feel like it had when I was dying; much paler now; yet still, at least intellectually, real. It was the moral of it, damn it all, he was the last person we would ever have suspected of such evil, all my sisters were in danger, and I was so grossly offended about it that I refused to turn into the light and leave. I vowed that I would not leave that location until I saw him discovered.

Time and reality were very odd then, and not easy to remember let alone record. But I figured out how to intensely focus my attention and intention to cause small changes in the physical world I had lived in. I gave sign after sign to my sisters to point them toward him. And when I wasn't doing that, I gave signs to him as well, and he began to tremble with fear, knowing that the gods or spirits or something were on to him. And finally they began to get the suspicion. And finally they worked it out between themselves that they would test this suspicion, with a seemingly lone innocent newer girl, and just as he began his quiet but effective drowning process, they all dashed out and into the pool to save her and the bulk of them overcame him. Their cries brought the other elders and by morning, he was remanded to authorities; he would die.

I felt grimly satisfied. And then I finally let myself pray again, which I hadn't done since I had died, perhaps somewhat in anger that my prayers while being murdered hadn't worked. And I felt more than saw the warmth and light, and I let the world fall away, and melted into it.

That was the dream I remembered, which took place at the location the archeologists were digging out.

I have no idea if this place is real or where it might be.


Monday, December 15, 2008

Cave of Gold

I was quick-browsing some email archives online at the dojo info site, when I came upon a few posts I had forgotten about. I actually had once tried to find these, knowing I'd written them down, but couldn't, so I'm delighted I stumbled on them.

Odd because there is a small parallel between a dream I posted not long ago (either here or on mypsiche blog) about this golden thing 'growing' in a cave.

This dream recorded might have been the accidental beginning of my targets-as-archetypes in remote viewing. It is circa 2003 sometime.


Several days ago my practice target was Green Lake in the Carlsbad Caverns. I was happy with the (brief? ) session. But during it I had this subtle sense of being... vast.

As an Aspect recently suggested I try and get in contact with targets AFTER feedback--consciously--I decided to try this, to see if I could figure out what in this target caused the 'vast' feeling. So I looked at the pic and tried to tune into the cave in general.

It was a nice meditation but I didn't find anything.

I went to sleep about an hour later, and had the most amazing dream. Like many of my so-called 'spiritual' dreams, it had what I call my 'elementals of soul'--another female and 2 males, but we are also all one.

In the dream, we were looking for a cave. In the cave, was a secret; it included gold. Somehow the concept of gold was bigger than a pretty mineral though. We had to find the cave, first.

There was a bad guy and his minions, also looking, racing us. The bad guy was not evil actually, more like an adversary than enemy, he was just very aggressive. We went to where two caves, next to each other, had all his guys in there with big lights and machinery, looking for the treasure.

But if we looked 'between' the caves, and then didn't really look, only sort of peripherally, and then 'allowed' our vision to work itself out like with those 3D pictures, we could see the tiniest glimmer of something, 'between' the caves. We followed it, and we found ourself in another, hidden cave between those.

I understood that we were able to see it because we were not just looking for what was 'physical' but for a greater 'understanding'.

Inside the cave we'd found, was an amazing amount of precious stuff. But it was weirdly entwined with the cave. For example, stuff sort of like furniture, much made completely out of gold, was actually part rock, as if somehow, all this stuff had *grown out of* the cave's rock itself, not been created by man or placed there.

Then I felt The Cave. Not self-aware, but aware. Not an identity, but a consciousness. I felt vast. And I suddenly understood what I'd been looking for before I went to sleep: the sense was the cave. Maybe it was my lifelong fascination with caves, or my incredible appreciation upon feedback, who knows. But in the dream, I had that sense to the Nth degree: I was basically 'in rapport with' the consciousness of a cave. (That particular cave? Who knows? A cave, is all I know. )

It wasn't a verbal/word communication. But I understood that we could not get the gold from the cave. I had a thought, in response to this, about how the bad guys would come in and just blast it loose from the rock. The cave showed me an image of some people trying to steal the gold, and it suddenly liquifying and melting them (there were huge amounts of gold there). (I know. My dreams are like the psychic Indiana Jones, lol! )

And then finally, what the cave was trying to get across to me hit me: we had to GET the cave to GIVE us the treasure.

We had to have a sense of love and appreciation and acceptance--all combined, which equalled a feeling somewhat like 'gratitude' but more--sort of making love, appreciation proactively--and the cave, if we had this proper state of mind, would show itself to us, would "give itself to us" voluntarily.

My memory of the rest of the dream is in pieces. We had acquired ourselves a shaman to 'guide' us through the caves, for when we would find it. He was small and had really long black hair, dark skin like a native or south american. He was able to 'morph'. The other female-Aspect was ready to kiss him in thanks for his help, when he morphed into a young, beautiful woman. She refused to be taken aback, and kissed him anyway, and he (she? ) grinned; I understood that she had scored a point in his eyes for recognizing him as him and not caring about his appearance.

The only other thing I remember is a bit black, lol. A little kundalini going on I would guess. The 'bad guy', a very large brawny bully sort, we had caught him. We had no desire to harm him, but after keeping him to talk to, we were simply going to let him go-- abandon him. He had no shirt on, and it was late night and really cold outside in what seemed like a desert. I kept morphing our vehicle as an old-west wagon or a station wagon. He was standing in the back of the wagon--cold--and we were ready to leave.

The shaman, who had a rather twisted sense of humor I might add, went in young beautiful female form to the wagon, put a really big red sleeping bag in it, and crawled inside it. We knew that between his cold and his approach to women, he would crawl inside with her before long, no matter what she said. Alas for him, one of the other forms the shaman could take was a large math of writhing snakes.

LOL. Like I said, Indiana Jones dreams.

But having thought about this for a few days, something comes to mind for me. One time in... years ago, anyway, when I was thinking about RV all the time and having the most incredible dreams (like 'the frequencies of telepathy' and seeing chakras, like one that looked like a million-colors-of-gold feather fan across a woman's forehead, or things like that? ), I woke up one morning and was able to 'grok' something of my dream before it faded away, while it was still interactive with me.

It was, " images itself for you." And I understood at the time what it meant: that it was not me looking at a separate, unaware thing... the target, the information, WANTED to be known, wanted to show itself off in its own way.

Somehow, this reminds me of that dream, that insight. How the cave had to 'give us' the gold.

It made me think that perhaps it was a nice allegory to 'intent' in remote viewing.


Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Of the Gold

I had a very linear deep-dream the other night. I woke up, checked email, and saw my boyfriend had sent me a link to some video he said related to dolphins. I responded in email briefly, "I just had a dream that involved a dolphin!" but I was busy getting ready for work and completely forgot about his video as well as about my dream, until just a little while ago when he reminded me. It's one of those whole story dreams, from first-person perspective. I wish I'd recorded it sooner because now I think I've forgotten some important stuff.

There are a lot of concepts and words I've forgotten so I have to use some from my mind in this-reality as I've no other way to describe them, though I think they are 'near' not 'exact' in that case. There was a WORD in the dream for 'the gold thing' but I don't remember it now so I just have to say 'of the gold'. There was a word for 'anchoring' that was a little different, but I can't remember that either. Oh well!


It was a long time he'd been gone. Everybody had avoided talking about it, of course. They didn't want to raise doubt, or weaken faith. But our best and brightest, our most courageous warrior, had gone off to seek the Golden object that was our tribe's spiritual heritage, and he had never returned. How long could we wait, I wondered, until they said something? Would we ever as a people admit to failure? And what then?

It was our right to have the object. Our people had cared for it throughout time, until a couple decades ago. They had seized our cave-lands, the slightly monstrous people who had arrived and demonstrated easily that they were physically superior to us. They preferred to live under the ground, with their sharp teeth and vertical-pupil eyes. They killed so many of our people, and of every creature it seemed, and we had learned to fear them. We sent raiding parties on them regularly of course, catching mostly their women and children who came out of the caves most often, and we did anything we could to make their existence uncomfortable. Initially our people had hoped they would leave, with enough of that. They were tougher, but we were smarter. But eventually it just settled into habit.

The world had started to change a little. Those who knew, told the rest of our people that it was because the golden object did not have an anchor-person. That it needed one of our people to bring its energy into our world. Unfortunately the sharp-toothed intruders had killed all the people who had any idea what the object looked like or where it was to be found--some of them, while they attempted to sneak into the caves to claim it.

But something wasn't right with the world, and anybody with sense could feel it. The crops were no longer just the right amount. The animals took sick much easier. The fish in the sea came in irregular amounts and cycles. The weather had odd moments out of season. It was obvious to our elders that things were out of balance, and the press of the need for our retrieval of the golden object seemed more desperate every day.

He had volunteered, because that's the kind of young man he was. And we believed in him fully, and we painted him with our protection, and we rested, feeling sure that if anybody could bring it back to us, it would be him. He hadn't even been born when the cave-dwellers took it away, but he understood the stories, and its significance.

But it had been a very long time. And he hadn't come home.

There was finally a day of mourning. We had to assume he was not returning. The wicked cavers must have killed him, or perhaps something on the journey to or from them, although nobody could imagine what could possibly hurt so smart and valiant a man, and the legend of his near immortal skills grew as our grief for him grew. It was dark and quiet, with the sky feeling so heavy as if it were weighing down on us, when we finally talked about what should be done next.

The sad truth of the matter was that we had to have the object. If every one of our people had to die one at a time over the next century to get it, the fate of our world rested in our hands. The balance of everything was clearly skewed and getting worse. It was frankly hard to imagine having the slightest enthusiasm for anybody else's success, given our best had apparently failed. But something had to be done.

So I volunteered. I didn't want to. I didn't want to die, I didn't want to go to the caves. I had no idea what I was looking for or if I would even know when I found it. I only knew that it had to be done, and someone had to do it. It felt appropriate, if depressing, that I would be the one. I had no more husband, no more children. The cave people had been the cause of that. It made no sense to send a warrior or hunter, a mother, when I had no value to the tribe that could not be taken over by someone else. I felt a sense of fatalism, inevitability even.

With more sadness than hope, I was prepared for the journey, which would take many days. We had to live out of sight of them of course, or risk extinction. We had gradually moved farther from the caves. It would take 5-7 days and nights of walking to reach them.

{I lost a piece of the dream here, that I had previously. It involved how I ended up inside the cave as the prisoner of the cave people.}

They told me that the man of my tribe had been there. They had tortured him, mildly not severely, to tell them where the object was. They felt that he had found it, in the labrinth of one area of the caves below, but that he had not told them. But he wouldn't give up the secret to them so they could find it themselves. They felt sure, given how many of our most important people had died for it, that it had some great power and they wanted it. He escaped.

{I wondered why he hadn't come home. Now looking back on the dream, intuition tells me that he felt if he did, it would bring their people upon our tribe, searching for the object.}

They told me that I was going to go into the deeper caves and look around and I had better find it. They had been unable to, but I think they suspected we had some tribal secret that would tell us where to look. Several of them roughly pushed me down there, and as we were walking into one of the smaller caves behind a large one, they were giving me instructions, and I stopped in awe.

I had found it. I knew it with every molecule of my body that recognized it, and felt as if it recognized me. It was about 12-18" across, at least a couple inches thick if not more, a perfectly round torus (donut-shape) and inside that, a perfectly round sphere. It seemed like it was made of gold light, and yet it was more solid or tangible as well. It was on the ground over at the side and I had the impression it had literally GROWN there, as if it were part of the earth itself, like some kind of cosmic mushroom.

The people around me obviously didn't see it. It was glowing gold and made every part of my body feel a tiny buzzing, but they were oblivious. I felt that they were not equipped to see it obviously, if they didn't, and I felt this only confirmed my belief that they were less spiritual than us, and that my people were the rightful keepers of this holiness. I was not about to tell them where or what it was, so the moment I realized they didn't see it, I continued tentatively walking around in the near-darkness, stumbling now and then, even though since I saw the object I had begun to feel a heightened awareness of everything, including the floor and walls and shape of the caves.

Finally they talked among themselves, gave me a torch, and told me to continue looking on my own. The caves down here were not that extensive, and if it was here, it had to be somewhere fairly close. They implied that if I came to them without having it, it would be the end of me, and they left.

I went back to the small room that had the golden object. By this time it felt like the tiniest elements of my body had magnetically aligned themselves to it or something. I felt like it called to every fiber of my being. I approached it in awe and reverence, and kneeled down beside it, and then slowly reached out and touched it.

I felt the change rush through my body, and suddenly I was 'aware' in a way I had never been before. I felt aware of the cave, of every cave, of the mountains and the depths, of the valleys and the waters and the entire sphere of which our people knew only a miniscule part, I suddenly understood. And I understood something else, which I know knew our people had gotten wrong:

This was not something that was ever 'in possession' of a person. We had behaved as if it were an object that we would take from one place to another. But it was an integral part of the cave itself, 'grown' into the cave. It could never be moved. And although an elder had said the words that it needed an anchor, one of our people, to bring its energy into our world, I didn't think any of us had understood just how literal this was: I was the anchor now. I felt him then, our man of courage who had come before me; he had found it. I felt many people, as if stretching back in a line into the reverse of eternity, all those who had been the anchors for this energy as I was now. And I sensed clearly that it needed one person per generation. We only needed someone to touch it, once every 15 years or so.

I sat down fully and pondered what I should do. I felt that I needed to get out of the caves alive. The energy I now carried needed to 'connect' with the larger world. I wondered how I could do this? And then I had an intuition. The leader of their people who had briefly talked with me, I rewound the scene in my head. Now, with the benefit of the energy, I heard many things I had not heard before, in his voice, things impossible to have heard, but which now seemed so obvious. Such as weariness. He was fed up with the unpredictable, occasional attacks my people made on his, all over the object. He was even willing to lose the object, whatever it might be, if it would just stop the harassment. I smiled in the golden glow of the object; I had a plan!

I went to the top and demanded to speak to the leader. I refused to speak to anybody else, no matter how roughly they treated me, insisting on the leader. When finally they took me to him, I told him: look, it is not here. If it WERE here, obviously, we would have found it by now. We must have misunderstood the elders who said it was, and since they died in the early battles of your days here, we had no way to learn otherwise until now. My people will not stop the sly attacks as long as they think their most-holy object is here and you are keeping it from them. But I will make you a deal. First, I am willing to go and tell my people, and make them believe, that it is not here. This will stop the attacks immediately. Second, if you agree that once per 12 years, you will let two of my people in to search the caves -- alone -- for a part-day span of time, to verify and reaffirm for each generation that the object is not here, so this will never be doubted, then you will not have to worry about our people annoying you again. It is a treaty of sorts.

He was relieved, although he growled and hissed like an animal as if he were not. As I expected, he then agreed.

They gave me my sharpened stick, which I used as staff and spear, and what few supplies I had arrived with, and I set off on the many-days journey for home.

I was going to have to find some kind of food. I hiked around toward the big water that reached farther than I could see, although I knew that there was an end to it somewhere, and a couple of the men of our tribe had been to the other side. I had the interesting sense inside myself that I could almost feel the life inside the water inside my own body, the larger and smaller things, the greater and lesser awareness of the different creature-types. I found that fascinating. I could feel something large and of powerful awareness very near to me and coming closer, and I leaned over the edge of the water and peered into the depths.

A dolphin came to the surface.

Hello, human of-the-gold, it said.

You can talk?! I exclaimed, only to realize I had heard it, and done so, only inside my head.

All creatures will recognize you, he pointed out. You anchor the gold. You are of the spirit of the Mother, he added, and I understood he meant, the larger consciousness that was our entire world.

I realized two things, suddenly: first, that I was going to meet one of nearly every life form, because they would be seeking me out to make contact, as their way of connecting to the energy of the gold; and that I was required to do this, in order to bring balance to my world.

Second, that this dolphin was at least as sentient as my own people, and our assumption that they were rather bright animals was a tremendous mistake.

I was looking down at the dolphin, still in some astonishment, when I suddenly woke up.


Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Physics Dreams - the M

I was reading a post on a friend's blog and it reminded me of one of the cooler old tech dreams. I'm actually writing part of this dream into a novel funny enough, or a small facet of it anyway. This is one of the dreams that are ridiculously linear and detailed -- and seem much more like "sitting in on another life" than just 'a dream'.


I was 'an aspect of' a man. Rather like The Four and how we work in multiple lives. I was sort-of him, but also separate. The man was an engineer but in a very advanced way, and he was an inventor.

He had invented this technology that was very cool. Basically what it did is, it 'felt out' all the 'contiguous space' of a given area at the atomic or molecular level. You could 'set' the tool to a max area and to 'find the boundaries' kind of like graphics programs do. This was the first thing it did; it could measure and then create (with an interface to a computer) a perfect 'map' of the exact 'space' inside any open object or structure.

In the example he/we gave to someone, he used the motor home that he actually lived in to demonstrate. It created a map of "the atomic space" of everything that was not "solid" (to a certain degree I don't understand now) inside the motor home. The point of the boundaries and map-borders elements was so that it didn't just go through the openings where every door closed for example, and try to map the whole parking lot, but would 'understand' that the doors/windows/floors were meant to be 'boundaries'. It would seal the boundaries if set for that.

The second thing this technology did was, and this related to its atomic or molecular measure somehow, it could project -- literally distribute, as-energy yet it was actually solid when it formed -- any (or at least many) molecular signatures. By which I mean, let's say that copper is a certain kind of molecule(s). It could 'project' copper into any 'shape' you wanted -- including into the INSIDE of things which were not open. How it did this I'm not sure. It did not actually have copper inside it. It was like it just had information on the 'signature' of copper and could project that 'in energy form'. But when the energy form was projected it manifested as the literal thing. Almost zero-point energy I guess, something from seemingly nothing.

He had sold this technology to a government contractor company that was really excited about it. They were using it to project a 'coating' into the inside of these things sort of like large ball bearings that were going to be used in a new space travel technology, as well as some military applications. His tech allowed an absolute 'coating' on the inside or outside of anything, literally so not even a molecule was uncoated (and so you could even coat something as thinly as 1-molecule-deep). I had the feeling that somehow in the ball bearing things, it actually related to a coolant-sealant use.

He was a brilliant and creative man, but a little odd and very independent and a little bit paranoid. He didn't trust the people who bought the tech for their various physics and engineering uses and he chose to live alone in his traveling motor home and work on his ideas and inventions, even though he was offered many times a full lab and staff and so forth.

The device was a few feet wide and tall. It was white, and shaped like a large "M". Except the middle was equal with the legs. /\/\ shape basically. And when he used it, he held it turned vertically and by the bottom/middle. As if it were a two-point gun, one higher one lower, where the knees or 'top' of the M became the projection-points.

He discovered when mapping human bodies (often without people's knowledge, pointing at people in parks with his device), that oddly enough, the younger the person, the more 'cohesive' their energy appeared to be (like their particles). After some experimenting with plants, he/we discovered that the combined technology of the two things it could already do, actually resulted in a third really amazing and frankly offbeat application for it.

The simplified way to say this is that it was able to 'map' all the (atoms, I think, it could be molecules but it felt like atoms at the time) in a given shape, and then map the SPACE between them (that's why I think it was molecules--atoms seems too small for that to be possible!). It was just a small variant on what it already did. That was the first half; that it mapped a given thing and its space. That was how he found that the older someone got, the more their energy seemed to wander and expand and get looser.

And then using the second thing the tech did, it would "reduce the space" between all the particles so that atomically, the structure was much more "coherent and succinct." Weirdly, this did NOT actually change the outer size, shape, or weight of a thing -- at all. It seemed exactly the same. But it DID seem to have a significant health improvement on plants. Which led to animals, and then bigger animals. Everything seemed to feel vastly better after this had been done. They were more active, seemed younger and brighter.

He realized that he could free himself from dependency on the government-related customers that he kind of feared, if he could sell this to the commercial market. He finally tried the tech on a few dying people, who were hugely improved, and then finally tried it on himself, and he couldn't believe how great it was. He felt 10 or more years younger, more energetic, brighter mentally, everything. After thinking about it, he literally believed that it made people younger in some fashion.

He went to a few celebrities that he had met incidentally in previous times and told them about what he had. He used it on himself to demonstrate, and sometimes on an animal as well. A few of them were willing to try it, and he had the feeling mostly because, since they could not SEE anything happening (I mean there were no bolts of lightning or anything!) they probably underestimated just how drastic a physical effect the tech was capable of.

But once they had tried it, they were agog, and nearly religious about promoting the tech to all their friends--in a world where youth and energy are the big things, he had something that actually seemed to improve health while having better effects than any drug and was almost a sort of 'youth' tech. He started making a whole lot of money, despite it was illegal and not official, selling treatments with this tech to people with a lot of money to spend on it.

When I translated this it came through with a lot of "graphics" symbology, but I think he actually had some himself. For example he referred to this process he used on the body as "resampling". And much like when you take a slightly fuzzy image and resample it a bit smaller in an image program, it actually improved the clarity of the borders and lines and so forth, and his ability to 'find the boundaries' of various things with the tech seemed to help that.

One day though, he realized something was wrong. He could feel it in his body, after he had given a demonstration to someone. He went back to his RV and used the device to 'read' his body and was staring at it on something a lot like a laptop. He was thinking that he was going to die. He had just done this way, way too often on himself, as part of constant demonstrations, although he wondered to himself if maybe he was kind of avoiding facing the fact that it felt good so he had taken to doing it so often "for good reasons"--but maybe, in truth, almost as a drug. He pondered the look of the details on his scan, zooming in and looking in particular at his arteries and organs. He could feel something profoundly wrong, and he could sort-of see it in the scan.

He had been resampled too much. There is a certain degree of this where eventually you start losing quality instead of gaining it, at least in his application. Maybe, he thought, there is such a thing as too LITTLE space between the particles. But he didn't think that was it, given how little newborns, whether human or animal, had. It actually seemed more like an abstract idea to him, as if his heart had been resampled so many times that it had begun to forget that it was a heart, and although it had taken the 'shape' of a heart, and it was all the right materials, that some kind of body-integrity, some kind of potential individual-intelligence of the various body parts, was being lost. As if you were altering a person's identity a little bit every time you did this--but on the body level--until eventually the body didn't know who, or in this case what, it was anymore.

He could feel that he was dying. It was slow. But he could feel it. He felt an odd sense of fatalism about it, as if the effect on his body was so profound that his body had already made peace with his mind about it, and he knew it was already so; it was just a matter of time. Minutes. Hours. Days, maybe. But not long.

He drove to an area. Sent a message to someone who could find him. Wrote up his results and conclusions in his notes so that the lesson wouldn't be learned for nothing. He laid out on the bed in his motor home and set the device to resample him one more time.

He joined me in watching his body from several feet away. We understood that his body was no longer alive. It was perfect. It looked in every way as if he were the picture of health in fact. No medical authority would be able to figure out why he died. It was if he simply 'did'. They would be forced to rule heart failure merely because obviously it stopped, but there would be no sign of why.

He thought it had been an interesting life, but it was time to go.

And then I woke up.

Those long, linear, detailed dreams always move me deeply for some reason.


Thursday, September 04, 2008

Biogram Theory

I'd like to talk about Biogram Theory a bit, because I'm emailing someone with a reference to it. So I'm putting it here instead of in email, so I can refer to it in the future. This is a theory, although it has seen some testing, and I've seen layman evidence -- dramatic results in myself and others using this as a model. I'm not going to put in the 1001 caveats a 'theory' requires as it's hard to explain it that way.


In Biogram, the theory (biochemically testable) is that emotion is biochemical. It is literally the language/words of the body (bio - gram). When you feel happy, even your elbow and heart feel it -- and they feel when you are sad. Biochemical brings our external reality experience into the internal body.

This biochemical that is the chemical form of emotion, goes into the bloodstream and is 'vented' by the actions of the person -- whether it's laughing, violence, crying, a big sigh, whatever. It can also be vented by 'general' cathartic things such as exercise or laughter.

When the emotion is incompletely vented (common in our society, for a long list of combined reasons) it stores under the myelin sheath of the nerves. It stores 'for later', as a survival instinct (too much emotion freezes us. The tiger eats us while we're immobilized with fear, or the enemy or predator gets us while we're overcome with grief over losing a tribe/family member).

The body naturally then 'vents' the biochem in dreams (children and nightmares, work stress and venting dreams).

If it can't get rid of it in dreams (too much, too much other chem, other issues), it will attempt to subconsciously bring about events/thoughts/situations which will actually focus us on that specific thing. In a perfect world this is great. It helps us face it, deal with and release it. But in reality this often leads only to more storage of the same type of chem for the same reason, instead.

The psychology is mapped to the body ("psychocartoggraphy"). When we focus on a given issue/topic/etc., literally our nervous system is 'stimulated' in that tiny (very tiny!) part of the body. Whatever biochem may actually be sitting there is 'invoked' and begins to release into the bloodstream for venting. (So the same circumstance that frustrates you repeatedly, stores biochem, and every time you tune into it, you are tuning into a "larger cache" of stored biochem. Eventually, the tiniest thing happens and you completely freak out about it, vastly angrier/etc. than the individual situation calls for. This is because you're not really dealing with that individual situation. Thanks to the body and incompletely vented biochem, you are literally dealing with a whole lot of that situation at once.)

If the body is still unable to vent it (for the same reasons we store too much in the first place), then it just keeps collecting. Being a biochemical, it has a shelf life; eventually it rots. This basically creates a cache of rotting biochemical that is right against the nerve. When the body 'tunes into that' it is literally a form of pain at the cellular/molecular level. So the body, which is part of the mind, starts redirecting us. It doesn't want to tune into that because it hurts. So when incoming information or focus aims there, it slightly "shifts" our "interpretation" just the smallest bit--so now the body is actually 'looking' just 'near' that area, not directly in it. As more biochem stores, more rots, and the collection grows larger, this psychological side-effect becomes more obvious: people are in "denial" (this is physical, not just mental!), and people "twist information coming in" (again it's physical, not just mental).

If this continues unabated, a few things happen.

The first is that a person can develop literally an "acid rage" -- this is literal, physical, not just metaphorical -- about a given topic. They usually can't tune into it, but IF they can (or when it's unavoidable), then they are almost chronically 'dripping' this 'acid rage' on every level. It pollutes their relationships, their humor, their happiness. You might as well think of this as having a drip-IV stuck in you that is chronically dripping rotting, acidic biochemical into your bloodstream, because that's exactly what's happening. These people are miserably unhappy and their entire reality is colored by the issues that the biochem is related to. Until they can get away from the situation which is chronically contributing yet-more biochem to the storage, until they have a sufficient amount of time to 'vent' that biochemical through chronic rage, dreams and nightmares, etc. while no more is adding to it obviously, they are not going to get healthy. Generally this is going to lead to murder or suicide or both in the end, whether by violence or disease.

The second is that rotting biochemical, collecting and growing, has a side-effect on the nervous system. The nervous system is the brain. It is the brain's way of looking into the body, and it keeps the body clean in that area in part based on information the nerve is providing it. When the nerve is coated with mud--let alone a gradually acidic mud--it can't report on anything. The body can't "clean" itself in that area--which includes venting that biochemical--if it can't SEE it and/or is avoiding it. Now imagine you've got 'rotting biochemical' sitting in a small part of the body which is accumulating toxins that are not getting vented. Eventually this can turn cancerous, or have other seriously negative health consequences.

The MD/Psych who came up with Biogram Theory (Richard Johnson) believed that you could see all this happening based on the symptoms of the body. In other words, that certain kinds of emotions, and emotions about certain topics, could be tracked to a given part of the body--and this was surprisingly consistent from person to person, as if the biological map of a human body was just as much a map of the mind.

He used a combination of hypnosis, biofeedback, and dream therapy to work on 'clearing' this. He had a lot of visualizations which if you did, were astonishingly effective -- it was obvious that simply the visualization was causing chemical changes in your body. I ran into this stuff and studied with him prior to encountering archetype meditations. He had some stunning results with physical problems (such as carpal tunnel and trauma) I saw in patients. I had some pretty amazing results myself, though I had nothing as obvious as disease or pathology to deal with, but I had plenty of experimenting I did with biofeedback and hypnosis in this model to think there's something serious to it.

I think archmeds are really just another direction of approaching this same thing. It's an internal, visualization format using the subconscious via Inner Guide, to deal with these physical things.

I have seriously wondered if even 'past life' memory might 'imprint' on the human body in a way that stores more than just this-life in it. The things that brought this idea are like: in Rolfing -- deep tissue massage which can be painful -- people are said to sometimes have spontaneous past-life memories. That sounds like something being released to me. Holotropic breathwork is said to bring on a variety of experience some maybe relating to that. Again this sounds like something in the body being released to me.

Scientology has a process called 'tracking', related to/part of (I think) 'auditing'. They believe that energy stores in the etheric-body; they call this 'engrams'. They use a coarse, rather oddly simplistic form of biofeedback tech they call an e-meter (probably because that's what they had 'back then' and it got established as doctrine so nobody bothered upgrading the tech!), and a person doing questioning, to work on this, but for tracking, the auditor is basically laying their hand gently on a part of the focus person's body and asking a question.

The point here seems to be (I am not a scientologist, so I am guessing; I knew a woman I studied alongside briefly who studied with Ron Hubbard in the old days before it became the kind of cult it seems to be now, who taught me a minor amount about it), that when the focus person has the hand laid on them and the question asked, it kind of causes them to "focus through" that part of their body -- through the energy in that part of the body, some of which may be 'sparked by' the question or process. The combination of these techs is believed to lead to "clearing" these "energy blocks" in the body.

I seriously think that Biogram is a medically-based approach to what amounts to the same thing. And that you could probably remove all the ancient-alien crap from Scientology (I don't care whether it's true or not, I just don't think it relates much to this), and re-consider the auditing and particularly tracking tech in light of potentially causing people to spontaneously tune into and release/vent stored biochemical. Which might be, in some cases, stored not by 'this' life of experience, but more something 'imprinted on' the physical body via the etheric body (obviously this is only theory). The theory works whether or not this last part is true.

Now, the best way for an individual to work on this on their own is through self-hypnosis, self-suggested dreams, and simple biofeedback. Simple meaning like EDR (Epidermal Response, previously and still sometimes called GSR, for Galvanic Skin Response). There are a couple ways you can approach it.

1. General energy: Rig yourself up and tell yourself out loud, "I'm going to go through my body, and when I get to a part where a lot of stored biochemical needs venting, I want you to make the meter reading/sound go up to alert me." Then you start anywhere and you focus on/in a part of your body -- a small part, and really "feel" that part of your body while doing this -- and then you just move through the body. When you hit a place that reacts, you talk out loud to yourself and say, "OK now body, I want you to release that biochemical into the waste disposal system of the body. Vent it all out. Thanks." Go back through that area several times with this kind of instruction, until you no longer get the response on the biofeedback meter.

2. Specific energy: do exactly like #1 except tell your body "...when I get to a part of the body where I am storing biochemical relates to issue XYZ..." instead. When I did this experimentally, it was fascinating, as my buddies and I were all experimenting. I would often write down the part of my body that reacted to a given topic, and come to find out my buddies had the same reaction (it varied in degree by person) to the same topic in the same part of the body. Which rather indirectly validated the doc's theory about the body being a map of the mind and fairly consistent from person to person. Probably the most severe example of this was the time when we all reacted -- me extremely, all but one of the rest mildly -- to 'homosexuality' when we hit 'the left ankle'. The irony was the one other person who reacted wildly to this actually had his resistance to this as the major issue in his life--and he had an incurable tiny cancer in his ankle at that spot. Helluva coincidence.

It's worth considering that in the body, no matter what the physical problems, everything comes down to the cellular and then molecular level. So, if there is any approach that can affect the body at that level, then there is no body issue that should not be able to be approached from this direction. It's just a matter of being creative enough to figure out how.

I'll post on myPsiche blog shortly the "Cleaning Center" meditations I made up eons ago when I was doing a lot of energy work and archetype meditations. My experience with these leads me to believe that they work; like archetype work and sometimes moreso, you can really feel this stuff physically at times.

Anyway, that is Biogram in a nutshell. It is vastly simplified, to say the least, but I think I got the framework of it decently.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Birthday Bedroom

OK maybe this is a little materialist, but if you knew what grunge I've been living in and for how long you'd see why I'm fairly excited about my decision to find a way to get myself a decent bedroom for my birthday in a few weeks.

I'm getting this quilt. I love the colors, and the velvet/satin mix. The patterns could be better or more random personally, but I really like it for the colors and texture. It's at for $70 (pillow shams are like $17ea or something). My bedroom is a small dark grungy pit and I think it's long past time I feng shui'd it into something more like I want to live in.

And a simple wall sconce fixture and a lovely little stained glass shade that goes with the colors of the quilt (these from

That leaves only some primer and wallpaint, a couple pans, rollers and brushes and dropcloth and extender, and the gumption to get off my ass and paint my room. When I moved in 8 years ago the walls were so grungy it was like a bad welfare tenament. Needless to say, 8 years and cats and kids have not improved anything.

I like the rest of what's in my room but it's never been in a good setting. I really want to move stuff around though--must be a mood thing! The really fun part is moving my bed. I tried to move it the other day. I got a lovely bruise and it didn't budge a single millimeter. It is a queen size captain's bunk and it weighs a ton. (It is about as high as my waist with the mattress on.) I think I'm going to have to take out every drawer, take off the mattress which is really heavy on its own, and then see if I can move it. If my housekeeping help comes tomorrow I'll have her move the drawers and we'll try it. Otherwise it'll wait a bit. I suppose worst case, my bed will simply not move! But I moved the fridge in the kitchen, all so I could put my bed against that shared wall with it gone (wouldn't sleep in the electrical field).

My bedroom is really small (like 11x11 I think), it's the smallest room in the house. I have a queen captain's bunk (so, blessedly, no chest of drawers), from Two layers of 3 drawers per side (12 big drawers total). (But that's all-no tables, headboard, etc.).

I have a small simple shaker slant-desk with a long padded bench. There's other stuff but that's all I should 'need', aside from my shoji lamp, fan/trash/laundry/scale, and guitar.

If I could get the bed to the other wall, the small amount of space below will be on the side of the room where the door opens, which will make the space much more useable, and make it much easier to get to the desk. I love my desk. It is my favorite piece of furniture aside from my shoji. All the wood in the room is maple-honey except the bench (which is dark cherry). If there were a little more LIGHT and COLOR in the room I think it would be really pretty! I spend my whole life in my room--much of my work is done sitting on my bed with my laptop, same for coding and internet. My room *ought* to be a really great place to be if it's that big an environmental thing.

Meanwhile--total topic change here--ever since the pyramid/Gaia meditation I did (see my Psiche blog), I've felt... slightly different. Hard to be specific here because that happened just as I was starting the hormonal monthly cycle of Maternal Blessedness (...) so that means physical issues (cramps, some nausea, bloating) and some mental issues (I get into the no-sleep, won't-eat, rather-manic coding phase) and frankly in the midst of all that junk it's a little hard to pull out what might be different because of a meditation. But I feel I am. And Ry has said several times all week, "You are really acting weird," and assured me last night that I am just very odd the last week. Not in a bad way, in a way that makes her giggle, but who knows. Anyway, so I don't know if the sense of a need to shift and brighten and color and rearrange my room, I mean more than usual (now the feeling is overwhelming) is in part related to that, or not.

I just know that I was idly browsing in boredom through a magazine and the minute I saw the pic of the quilt I just felt like I HAD to do that, just 'had to'. Not just an intellectual thing but a really sense of being driven-by-the-body to have those colors around me etc. (Interesting because usually it is yellow and gold -- energy colors -- that I crave. But I might add that somewhere, I have a velvet soft pirate's cap in some print that looks a lot like an abstract version of that quilt--I bought the cap when I was like 18--so apparently I like the color scheme and haven't changed much!)

Meanwhile... I've been coding my ass off on Taskerbot for days and days until my brain is fried. I found some bizarre bug in one of the tasking modules that really made me mad, because it's rare and occasional and I can't figure it out. So I'm just redoing the entire form/script and doing it differently this time, as a different kind of fix. But everything is SO much work and SO time consuming, gods. And I'm working on planning Dr. Tart's upcoming PhP blog he wants to start, which I need to have together in a week or so, so he can work toward having it ready for his next book when it publishes. I wish I had more hours in a day!


Friday, August 22, 2008

Reich and Timewave Zero

I just had this totally left-field "AHA!" moment realization.

Many know Reich, who is most famous for his 'Orgone' energy stuff I suppose, though he was also quite brilliant as an analyst.

His book 'The Nature of the Orgasm' is very interesting. Take off the sexual component we assign to that for a minute. Basically he suggests that if you study the world, every single thing has 'cycles'. It builds up, and builds up, energetically, until it reaches some crescendo, peaks, and then falls back down again. From ocean tides to herd populations, there is pretty much nothing I can think of in our world, from microscopic biology to macroscopic sociology, where this pattern does not exist.

Timewave Zero is the McKenna brothers' mathematic computer modeling of their projected "novelty" ('change') for the human race/earth/whatever (sorry to be unclear but I didn't read the whole book and that was eons ago). Basically, based on their models, they projected that the "degree of novelty" was going to get more and more exponentially extreme, until at the very end it pretty much went off the charts into a sort of maximum. Curiously, their timeframe for this was something like December 21, 2012, at 5:59:59 AM (and some sub-seconds). (I forget what timezone that is. Zulu maybe? Buy the book.)

Now many people might recognize that as the infamous "Year of Ending" of the Mayan calendar.

I just realized: it's an orgasm. It's a cycle. TIME has the SAME cycles that everything else does.

I know that's a very weird thought. But then I'm kinda weird.


P.S. This hit me just between pondering whether CFPARAM would validate form input data for team-based tasking better than dynamic IF statements or in-form javascript, and wondering whether just putting in my default datetime value (12/21/2012 5:59:59 AM) would suffice and if they screw it up, just making it easy to edit. Who says that programming is not a tool of insight? ;-)

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Reality in Polka-Dots

If I had a brain I'd be dangerous. Seriously.

Last night I reread the previous couple posts on my psiche blog, and realized that way back in May I'd done the last archetype meditation. Bad enough it'd been that long, but I'd completely forgotten the med. I'd even forgotten getting a new IG, despite that I did a few meds with her. The level of my denial is astounding!

I went back to finish the med and had a mindblowing experience. (See Psiche for detail.) So it's a good thing that I wrote down the first meditation or I wouldn't have remembered several things that turned out to be very important.

This morning, I read the rest of the posts on the first page. In them were several other meditations that I had forgotten far more completely than the other. It was like reading something written by someone else! That's just astounding.

I'm seriously beginning to think that I must have a whole lot more denial going in my life than even I suspected. How could I forget that much stuff??


So I'm thinking if meditating on my problems is hard, maybe I should start meditating on just the opposite -- if my problem is 'lack of money', meditate on 'abundance' for example. Maybe then the meditation would be easier to get around to, clearer, more fun, and still have a positive result toward the basic goal.

-- Since it appears when I focus on problems, I space out the spaces of my life that have that work. Like big spots of nothingness, and then spots of somethingness. I see reality in polka-dots: little spheres of what I'm willing to deal with, surrounded by nothingness, the masses of stuff I'm not.


Friday, August 15, 2008

Remote Viewing: Frontloaded-Genre Focus-Viewing

My best friends and I wax on about RV all the time. What I'd give for a transcript, given all the things we've thought of spur of the moment, that fall out of my brain when I hang up the phone. One night we were talking about focus-viewing.

I often use basketball as an analogy to remote viewing. Not because it's a good one, just because pretty much nothing is a good one so it's not much worse than any other.

In basketball, you need a lot of practice in 'live games' and that's the best thing. But really, if you want to work on layups, shooting hoops, passing, whatever, then you don't expect a person to play five 2-hour games a week and learn everything they need from that experience. You also practice specifically your layups and passing and free throws and so forth. Because without some focused-skill in those areas, your games are going to kind of suck, and there's too much "else" going on in games to know that you will personally get lots of practice on that one specific thing.

As a general norm, folks don't do a lot of that in RV until they get some experience and decide they want to focus on something and make their own target pool for it and so on.

In RV a lot of it's about learning theory and the "promptness of feedback." Now, we never get it as rapidly as actual learning theory says matters most--that is a matter of microseconds--but it's generally agreed that "the sooner, the better" for feedback. But you have to take into consideration that "30 seconds after session" is not nearly as 'soon' for most the session if it was a 2 hour session, as it would have been for a 15 minute session.

The length of a session determines the amount of experience a person has to wade through when feedback arrives. When you do a 2 hour session, there is usually so much more data, so much more experience, than when you do a 15 minute session, that when you get feedback, there is not always a clear path to comparing a clear memory of your fleeting, ultra-rapid 'impression' from two hours ago, with what turned out to be that part of the target. And the stronger experiences or any 'drive' cycles in there tend to overshadow the early or subtle things. The shorter the session, the more immediate and likely clear your recall of your experience. For the purposes of practice (vs. occasional full-out targets or applications work), short sessions serve as layup drills, to return to our basketball analogy. You want to do a brief focused activity and get immediate feedback on it, and do a lot of that.

We were talking about the "layup drills" concept. Then we were talking about "real world" stuff-- as if every decent target feedback photograph is not something in 'the real world' of course-- but stuff that is current like right-now, or even future.

I started thinking about the fact that much of that viewing, such as on news, becomes "concept" viewing. Although there can be physical data, most of the focus is more a matter of dynamics, process, situational, conceptual, contextual -- not so much "a stone castle on the cliff overlooking the sea" (to ref an archetypal sort of RV target). In other word, news (with rare 'tech' exceptions) almost never reports so much on physical things so much as events or situations, which usually either a person or a physical thing or both are involved with.

So I got to thinking, what if you could do layup drills -- focused RV practice -- on concepts?

On contextual targets, and the news is a perfect example. News stories can be nearly anything, so even if you are describing tomorrow's paper, unless it's the eve of the presidential election, and unless it's the front main page or political section, you're not really going to be able to predict what will show up there. If you increase the number of potential news sources, each with different major 'sections' of the newspaper which could be the focus, this complexity or probability grows exponentially. When you're using online news which actually can change many times a day, its even more unpredictable.

Some kind of software setup that helped a viewer with this kind of practice, by randomly choosing from one of many sources, either present-time or in the future at the viewer's whim, would be great. The target would be "what you get feedback on for this session/task" which makes it a wildcard tasking1, even though one fully set up for feedback ahead of time. (Reason: because the top news story on any news web page could change between the time you got the task and got feedback. So your target is not 'what's there' but 'what you get as feedback'. If you couldn't get feedback until 3 days later, that would be fine too. This works perfectly well by the way, although many viewers' initial belief systems stubbornly refute it. You have to just do it for awhile to see.)

(1) Wildcards is a term used in futurist work, to indicate a 'low-probability but high-impact event in the future'. It's also a term used in computers, where it represents 'a variable', e.g. it could be anything. Prudence Calabrese applied the term to Remote Viewing, when the target was undefined at the point of session except as being, "Whatever you get feedback on for this session."

You could do as much practice as you wanted, and the targets might range from abstract to technical, from crime to business, from Latino to Women's Issues to Special Reports. In short, they'd be double-blind in detail even though you are frontloaded to the "genre" of target -- in this case, "the news." (The word genre in this context can be a subject-matter, such as 'finance', or a target-source, such as 'news'.)

Now I am rather against frontloading in application settings, unless it is impossible to avoid (I'm willing to make concessions that functionality is a priority over perfection in that case, but it's still seldom good; an intermediary who can privatize the tasking is critical). But I am not against frontloading only to the degree of genre -- "the target is a building" is not frontloading, it is telling you the target, ok, people really need to consider basic logic when it comes to this subject -- for focused practice.

For example, let's say that John really wants to work on dowsing for lottery numbers, and Susan really wants to work on "situations" so she can improve her police work, and Jane really wants to work on "sounding-out" words.

These things are damn difficult in double-blind work, especially since the DB suggests you don't know the target and hence if you want to view "situations", you don't really even know that the target HAS any kind of "situation". Maybe it's a bleeping statue or something. Or maybe the situation is such a wide-scale tasking (eg Marilyn Monroe / Death / Cause) that you could fit data into anything and you don't have enough feedback to have any clear guidance.

What seems clear is that viewers could use a way to make target pools specific to a genre, that they could use for "focused-practice". One pool might have situations -- and maybe a "phrase" would be best for this, as it limits the situational elements. Or, it might have news sources -- that's a wider pool for sure but usually some degree of concepts and events (situations) are involved there, and they have the benefit of the psychological attraction to 'real-world-present' events. Maybe another pool has numbers 1-51 for John's local lottery, and Jane has a pool filled with tons of single words, each of which is a concept word or a name, that she wants to work on sounding out.

The problem is, in practical terms, that making a practice target pool is--not to be indelicate--a royal pain in the ass. I cannot tell you the hours I have spent gathering targets for practice, and that's with everything online in image format already. Let alone the hours to put copyright/copyleft info on them and make them look nice (for the TKR project) (I am not the only tasker there for the practice pool, but all the copyleft stuff, and stuff with nifty font descriptions, is mine).

And then you get into task distribution: the problem is that even if you use index cards and security envelopes, in theory the mnemonic 'memory' of the most subtle detail of a given envelope can play havoc with the 'validation of the double-blind'. I mean in your own head; I'm not worried about what others think, but about what my psychology thinks. I need the validation of the doubleblind to pound on my belief systems constantly. So for all intents and purposes, collecting targets, let alone making a physical pool, is just really, really time consuming.

So it seems like one would need a few things:
1 - A source of targets to collect that was rapid for targets in high quantity;
2 - A way to get those into a target pool rapidly and fairly easily
3 - A way to get them distributed to you randomly.

The reason for #1 is that the pool has to be a pretty good size (several hundred) if you're creating it or the AOL (analytical overlay--associations with targets you think it might be) will just kill you. (Learn vicariously from me on this.) It's like trying to play guitar on one with such bad action that your fingers are bleeding. There is simply no reason to cause yourself that much pain when the real point of the exercise was to learn a finger-picking pattern or a lead riff. It's a little like that in viewing. There's no reason to make yourself suffer. If you want to learn, you want the process to be clean as possible so you can focus on your learning, not your pain. The bigger the pool, the better.

So after some thought, and a good chunk of programming, I created two new modules in Taskerbot.

One is geared for any kind of target that uses an online URL (fixed URL) for a target source. It's called "News" and has a variety of features, but it isn't limited to the news. You could make a set/pool and fill it with links to many different websites' "picture of the day" and use that. Anything.

The other is geared for any kind of target which fits within 300 characters. Numbers; words; phrases; or brief taskings. It's called AlphaNum, and it also has a variety of features, but is not limited to numbers and letters, words, phrases; ordinary taskings (as long as you didn't need a ton of text, url, embed code, or photo -- or as long as your 'link to that' fit within 300 characters!) could be used in there too.

The idea is to make a business-type utility that makes it easy to spend most your time viewing, all of it in a nice clean protocol, and very little time out manually and laboriously making target pools. Most viewers are adult professionals. They don't have time for a big administrative component on top of having any time to view. This really limits their options, and that's too bad.

My theory is that a very small number of people are actually driven to view, or able to psychologically stay with it. By very small, I mean in terms of the larger population, nearly infintesimal. So as a result, making all the support and potential available for those viewers becomes more critically important. Because they are the only people who are going to carry remote viewing into the future.

When all the pathogen-in-a-can stories and comet-companions and You Must Use My Method Or You're Not Viewing or other crazy cultic stuff in the media and on the internet fades to a slightly humorous subnote of history, what's left are the people who are actual practitioners, and who are the only ones who can pass it on -- decently, that is -- to others. The more chance they have to improve themselves, to better understand, the better for the future of RV.

Since few folks truly have time to do a lot of administrative, protocol, set-up work and get any viewing done too, I think professional software that makes all those things as rapid and easy as possible for them, so they can spend what time they have viewing, is a big deal.

I'll talk more about the new tBot stuff on the Dojo Psi blog in the next couple of days.


Wandering Home

A reader-friend pointed out that I hadn't posted on Red Cairo for so long people were going to think I'd keeled over. I have six blogs for different topics and I can't keep up with one let alone six, so... that's the way it goes. But I feel sadly remiss at not posting because this one, Red Cairo, is my most personal blog, where I talk about my dreams and weird experiences and psychic sessions and so on. You know, all the stuff that would make readers elsewhere run screaming into the night.

I've often felt I survived well in the world mostly because my weirdness was well hidden. I "pass", as people with issues such as deafness and autism call it; when you function well enough "like other people" that conveniently, they mistakenly assume you are one of them.

I've only recently revived the blog at and not posted much yet, but I'm finally building out more of dojo projects like Taskerbot with some more cool remote viewing tools so I'll be waxing on about that there. As opposed to anywhere else, because it bores other people to tears I imagine...


I was recently reading this book, "An Unlikely Prophet" by Alvin Schwartz. It's a lot like a Richard Bach book in many respects. He tells the tale, allegedly true, of meeting a genuine Tulpa -- a thought-created being. The book was basically an exploration of the concept of reality, of time, of thought-creates-reality and form. It had a lot of great one-liner quotables in it.

In the book, at one point the Tulpa refers to time as merely being "an atmosphere", saying that time was not at all consistent or the same everywhere. I don't know why, but it made me think of something I once wrote where I said people mature "in spots". It's almost as if the maturity of time also happens in "spots".

The Tulpa suggested that in the West in particular we inundate ourselves constantly with media, and most of it subconsciously was to help cement and keep consistent a specific reality and time. As if to keep anybody from slipping. "I am colored outside the lines," I once woke up thinking. As if atmosphere can be its own imprisoning little-tiny-box of reality.


Time, or whatever it is we're calling that, marches on. Right now all my cats are living outside for the summer. The two prettiest, friendliest have disappeared. I hope for some good reason and not the many possible bad ones. My property looks severely overgrown and I'm waiting on a hopefully new lawn guy to show up today for an estimate. Welcome to suburbia.

My seeds had a bizarre lack of germination this year. I heard that from a ton of people. That's very worrisome as all are from good companies. What would it do to the world if terminator chemicals got into organic crops? Then Monsanto would own your ability to grow backyard peas. In any case, so after spending a small fortune on seed starting stuff I ended up going out and spending another small fortune on small seedlings. Then it rained for 14 WEEKS. Good grief! I've heard of a 'wet spring' but that is unbelievable. I was expecting some neighbor to begin building an ark any minute. My backyard was a swamp. Although my garden beds are super elevated, I sink in the mud around them so don't go out there if it's really wet. By the time I went out there, the weeds were 8-12' tall in the garden beds--I am not exaggerating, some weird kind of super-tall-something!--and this tiny weed that has been a two foot patch of ground cover with tiny blue flowers the last several years in front, took over my entire front and backyard, growing OVER everything, growing UP the 8-12' tall weeks on each side of the bed, rendering the entire half a backyard into something that looked like a garden abandoned for about 50 years. I've never seen anything like it.

Then it refused to rain even slightly for a couple months. It was too late anyway. The garden was annihilated. I think I have one hardy Roma tomato plant that half-survived; my housekeeping helper filled one of my refrigerator drawer with small romas last weekend. I can hardly go out there, I just find it so demoralizing. I will have to pay another small fortune to get help in basically digging out the top foot of all the beds and replacing it with fresh soil, and doing something to deal with the "plant life" that is like a pretty oklahoma version of kudzu.

My kid has her second degree in Jr. Brown Belt now in karate and has moved to the more advanced class. She turned 12 years old yesterday. Holy cats! Hard to believe. We're celebrating this weekend though as I had no money until then. Money has really sucked for the last several months, but I just need to get off my ass and do some meditating since it's more like a symptom of my reality than anything specific.

We are homeschooling this year, a gigantic decision we are a couple weeks into so far. She will learn far more here, will not suffer the psychological disaster of our ridiculously violent, drug-ridden, sexually-oriented kids who are worse at age 11-15 than my college was, in our nowhere-midwest public school. My only gripe is that she insists on learning violin and japanese (for godssakes!) which means I have to learn them too. God forbid I should stretch my brain like that. What is she thinking. I paid a fortune for good curriculum materials in many subjects though I have some left to obtain. I've got tons of documentary edu and of course am still working on Rosetta Stone for foreign language. Bittorrent is my friend.

I'm learning to cook finally, about time. I turn 43 on September 14th... just a tad late to be learning fundamental life skills. I can't believe I'm that old. I really feel like I got to somewhere in my 20s and that was it, my 'sense of age' pretty much didn't move from there until I was about 41, when it moved up to about 30. My body certainly kept moving on, but my mind hasn't felt any older, which is just weird. Maybe it's that way for everybody. Anyway, I spent last night going through the long-simmered carcass of a turkey that I baked and then dumped in a giant stock pot, and we'll be having turkey soup with onions, carrots and celery as a result (plus I have, not counting the soup, at least a couple gallons of stock). Did I mention that's a rather disgusting job that made me feel rather... savage in some way. I've mastered briskett (how can you screw that up?) and a variety of things made with ground turkey and beef--as you see, my effort is to learn to cook with cheap meats.

I'm lowcarb, so meat is my primary food, but I can hardly afford it. Veggies are a lot more too. Cheap pure-sugar crap like noodles are ultra-cheap, but real food costs a fortune. And they wonder why diabetes gets more common by the day and is more prevalent in the poor, hmmmn.

I've lost a lot of weight, which is to say, not nearly what I need to lose, but I'm getting there. I'm not really focused on that at the moment. "Eat real food" is pretty much the thing; beyond that I don't obsess except in cycles.

I have totally sucked at weight lifting. I seem to have some emotional stuff bubble up every time I exercise enough to really work out hard that sends me away from it. I've seriously begun to wonder if, on some "creation of reality" level, this could be behind my mega weight gain much earlier in life. I've always had a problem with "shallow breathing" since childhood, but since breathing is associated with emotion and much of my childhood really sucked, I've just dismissively attributed it to that -- not wanting to 'feel' too deeply. I've heard of "Holotropic Breathwork" (a Stanislav Grof tech I think) and how it allegedly can bring massive emotional stuff to the surface for people. I don't know if lifting weight hard enough to make me breathe deeply and sweat like crazy is the same, but it is certainly sparking something in me. So it has become, much like archetype meditations, insanely difficult to "get around to" as a result.


Our latest music: Celtic Woman. My favorites: She Moved Thru the Faire, Last Rose of Summer - Walking in the Air, Harry's Game. But the whole disk is lovely. It has some classic covers too, like Ave Maria, Danny Boy and Enya's Orinoco Flow. Well I've also been listening to Linkin Park, Counting Crows, Avril Lavigne, but they are not nearly as cosmic. ;-)


I wanted to say something about remote viewing but I think I'll put that in a separate post.


Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Gifts and Poltergeists

This is just a chatty post to catch up a bit on recent life.

It's going fairly well here in nowhere Oklahoma. It's spring, which aside from Autumn is the most glorious time of the year. It ranges from super-blue sky with super-green everything and flowering trees, to awesome thunderstorms and pouring rain.

In the spring here, everything grows. This includes the 1,029,392,877 little tree seeds that have distributed themselves all over the landscape from every tree in the neighborhood. I'm the Maple Killer: I ripped out dozens of maple tree starts from a small mulched area the other night. This is definitely Ozark territory here in the NE corner, not the plains. Oh, and that's not counting every weed that ever considered taking up residence in my landscape, especially my lawn. By the time I got my mower started, my lawn -- along with much of the city -- was a good 12-20" long in places. I say 'in places' because I don't actually have a lawn. I have some very interesting weeds which, when mowed, and slightly at a distance, give the illusion of a lawn. I'm not complaining. It's green, it grows, I mow it, what's not to love?

I managed to get all my official garden beds planted, no thanks to killing my own seedlings (never mind how, it's just too stupid). In the beds, which are 24-32" high (it's a 'standing' cinderblock garden, see some old pics here), I've got something like:

half a dozen red bell pepper
half a dozen orange bell pepper
nine green bell pepper (most of which I wait till red to pick)
nine jalapeno pepper
a couple italian peppers (sort of a cross between a bell and an anaheim)
eight cayenne peppers
(did you notice... I like peppers? I'd have more but the local selection of seedlings was pathetic.)
eight roma tomatoes
one cherry tomato
one oregano
two basil (standard)
half a dozen daikon radish (all that sprouted, from old seed)
around 10 shallot sets
around 60 garlic sets
around 200 yellow, white and red onion sets
about 25 each of normal, japanese long white, and red, scallions
and that's about all there is room for in the beds.

I plant close, 'sort of' in a square-foot-gardening style, but not THAT close... about 1.5-2' between peppers and small/determinate tomatoes.

I didn't plant anything on the arch trellising this season, because I still need to tear out the odd square little beds that DP (as my lowcarb girlfriends call him, my Ex) created, and use their cinderblocks to make permanent beds between the arches. That is down the road some... there is only so much time in life, and let me tell you, it does not take much hauling of 30# cinderblocks before your hands and fingers hurt and you're weary, and this is probably even for people in good physical shape, which I am definitely not.

I do, however, have the containers left. I had to buy an entire new spate of containers this year, as the recent ice storm that wiped out 70% of the trees in my city (including mine. They are leafing out--their shredded remains--but at some point I'll have to pay a small fortune to have them cut down and replaced, as they are trashed) also wiped out my containers, which had actually survived five years of winter outside without even a crack until then, but they literally shattered and cracked and broke all over with that freeze. These are big, 16-40 gallon (varies) size "tub" like containers you can get at dollar stores and walmart.

The rain and wind have delayed delivery, but hopefully Thursday I will get the "soilless premium potting mix" from the local soil company (they sell mulch, rock, you name it), a dump truck with a scoop is going to drop it in my driveway, then guess who gets to shovel it all into containers and wheelbarrow them around the property. I will be in slightly better shape when this is all over, that's for sure.

Last week, a friend online sent me some clothes and shoes in my size and some quality cat food. Free stuff! Awesome. My boyfriend sent me a movie ("Kama Sutra" - do you think he's trying to tell me something...?). A coworker sent me an exercise video and two cookbooks. My dad gave me a whole bunch of DVDs, me and Ry will be watching "The Golden Compass" tonight. And yesterday I got a $100 gift card from my boss. So it's been a good time for the influence of others the last week or so, for sure.

Thanks to the gift card yesterday, I was able to go to a local nursery and buy about four dozen seedlings for all the containers (from the big tubs to lots of hanging flower pots). A dozen are flowers; a dozen are herbs; a couple dozen are some more veggies. Anaheim chili pepper, mole chili pepper, hungarian wax (hot banana) pepper, couple more italian peppers, a golden tomato, cherry tomato, some more roma tomato, some more cayenne pepper. (Fresh cayenne are my fave peppers, although there are several in that class that are nearly indistinguishable from one another and they're all good.) This Friday (payday) I hope to buy whatever the last things needed for this year's garden: maybe more containers (not sure), and a bunch of hose and a good punch, a manifold and timer for the backyard, and a couple more fancy-spray nozzles for the garden hoses. From that point on, all I need is a couple scoops (dump truck full) of new cedar mulch and a LOT of incredibly hard work, and by the time Fall arrives, when it's time to tear stuff out and clean up for the winter, I'll finally be done with the stuff I should have had done by the arrival of spring, heh!

Ry had her sixth grade chorus concert last night, so we piled into the city's big-brag fully-restored landmark Coleman Theatre for it. She's so adorable it just melts my heart.

Meanwhile, my friend X is having a rather severe problem in her house. Her husband and both her children -- now 10 and 11 -- are quite psychic in the 'medium' sort of way, although her husband is a rationalist who works very hard to stay in denial of this. They began with a number of random occurrences and knocking and things like this, human-shaped shadows visible only to the three of them (X's oblivious), etc. They believed they had some kind of ghost. I told them to talk to Archangel Michael and ask for his assistance in helping someone move on, and they did. Her father died as all this was happening, which probably didn't help, except that it restored some sense of benevolence to it all.

Not long later, this amped up into Amityville territory. First stuff started moving. I've had this effect myself during my bewilderness era and I know how crazy-making it can be. A dresser fell on her daughter (a bird-boned sort) several times. (And no, this is NOT like child abuse projected or anything like that. Stuff started falling and flying all over the place regularly, all four of them reported it to me separately at times.) The knocking increased. The out-of-corner-of-eye visuals increased. Writing started appearing on the mirrors. The TV remote control constantly vanished and would appear on the ceiling fan in the kids' room, which nobody there can reach without a ladder. They could all be sitting in the living room, all is well, the cat walks out of the room, and runs back in 10 seconds later--covered in mayonnaise or something and very unhappy about it.

One time her husband got so pissed about the remote control he duct taped it and CHAINED IT so it couldn't go anywhere. The cat got coated with something again, his bottle of scotch vanished and appeared stuck in the dirt upside down and open in the backyard after having been poured everywhere, and after searching, they'd just given up looking for the vanished remote when they found it -- in the butter container in the door of the fridge. The little girl would sometimes wake up with her long hair wound up and 'hooked' on this tiny hook in the wall above her bed.

They kept taking the kids to sleep with them because they were all worried, but even when they do, the apparitions and stuff continue off and on, and her husband is often woken up by someone poking him HARD -- physically -- on the shoulder, even though he makes sure and nobody is touching him that he can SEE, yet it's 100% physical and once he felt a whole hand slide down his arm. (Grossed him out.)

They called the Oklahoma branch of some kind of ghost like society that has a TV show. Useless. These people had a huge stack of paperwork that took X a really long time to fill out. They show up, they set up a camera for ONE HOUR, and they leave--just leaving all the paperwork they worked so hard to prepare. X asked if there was someone they knew who could clear houses of this kind of thing and they only said, not in this region. And this was all just really annoying, frustrating, aside from the occasional things that seemed like a potential threat to the kids, until recently when

The little girl can see and hear a spirit there. She says it says that her name is Sabrina and she died in a fire. She heard another who said her name was Debra, and she was several generations ahead of Sabrina. After the prayers with Michael, Debra went away. Meanwhile, they've now progressed to some impressive EVP (electronic voice phenomenon). Sometimes on the telephone, AFTER someone hangs up, there is a voice. Allegedly there is a spirit named Tim, an angry man who says he set the fire that killed Sabrina. Debra says that she is trying to help Sabrina 'go to the light' but Tim doesn't want to let her go. Sometimes Sabrina quits talking and when asked why says that "he will hurt her" and then there's sounds like a hard slap and her crying out. Meanwhile, they were all trying to keep this quiet -- except for hoping the ghost hunter people might have some clue -- because they don't want anybody to think they are crazy, obviously, and if you tell someone that a small dresser threw itself on your kid, they're probably going to think it's child abuse and that'd be a total nightmare. So they've been suffering in silence about all this for awhile.

Recently, they got some third party verification. The little girl had been on the telephone with a little girl who lives near me. When her little girl hung up, a voice came on the line, and the other little girl stayed on as a result. She gave the phone to her mother, who actually heard it. It was 'Tim' and he was foully cursing and threatening and saying, I can't recall, but something like they couldn't take Sabrina I think. X felt tremendously validated that someone outside their family had finally experienced this stuff.

She tells me because I've had poltergeist phenomenon and I believe her--and the most unbelievable parts, for anybody who's had it, are the most believable because that's really how it works--like you don't usually see stuff floating through the air from point A to point C, it's just that something is at point A and a micro-instant later it's at point C, for example. (Moved through time, not space.)

Recently, her little girl was sleeping in the living room while she watched TV real late one night, not more than 10 feet from her, and in the space of an hour, when she woke up, part of one eyebrow had been shaved, her upper lip hurt, and she had tiny razor marks around her legs. Not cuts, but scrapes. Now, this seems as impossible as every other poltergeist thing seems: X was RIGHT THERE, though not looking, and her daughter was wearing clothes!--and this happened "under" them--and we suspect the sudden pain was what woke her up. She called out to her mom who said what is it baby? and looked back at her and instantly noticed a whole big rectangle missing from one of her eyebrows. This event scared the hell out of X, who sought out every razor and bundled them up and hid them in a closet somewhere, and made her husband SO pissed that he stomped around the house cursing at Tim and telling him he was a balless coward for picking on little girls and why didn't he pick on HIM instead. He's been trying to harrass Tim into spending his energy on him rather than the kid.

Now, poltergeist activity is nearly always associated with children, and both of hers are near 11, which is about the age it usually kicks in. The family watches all kinds of spirit-related crap on TV, like Buffy and Angel and so on. I assumed, initially, that this was just PK activity, and that the slightly younger brother, despite that both the children are very healthy and happy, that this might be some subconscious PK acted out toward his sister. But I don't think so anymore. The whole repetition of the spirit-stuff, along with the writing, voices, and the poor damn cat LOL, the endless issue with small items especially remote controls, is a little too constant.

I told her, you "pay" attention. Every bit of attention you guys give this is just feeding it energy, period. QUIT! Ignore it. Marginalize it. Don't give it any free energy. But of course over time, more and more, they could not ignore it, even though she says they tried that for awhile, along with prayer and so on. At this point they're willing to save money (they're pretty poor) for an exorcist if they only knew where to find one and it'd have to be someone that works on 'houses'. She tells me there is so much stuff so constantly that I wouldn't even believe her if she bothered trying to recount it all. I probably would, but I know what she means.

I was so irked about the razor incident that I seriously considered stomping over to her house and seeing if I could call Michael and the spirit and do something about it all myself. But at this point, I've been out of mental work so long except spottily, I can hardly pay attention through a brief chakra meditation, never mind something that major, with an energy so turbulent. In other words, I don't think I'm qualified, and I think as a result it might be dangerous. I'm ticked though. I want to be qualified to deal with that. It is inappropriate. I feel the need to "facilitate the adjustment" of the situation. I always said I knew the first time I saw the Thoth tarot deck that "Adjustment" was my card, and funny enough things often feel like that to me, like I simply feel some inner need to bring things into balance via adjustment. I know all the cosmic wiccans are the Empress and High Priestess and stuff like that, so Adjustment seemed a little disappointing and unglam by comparison, but it was a gut-knowing, what can you do, I didn't consciously choose.

(It just occurs to me that maybe the tarot is a map of humanity the way The Four or the Tree of Life is, and so maybe every person has one card that basically they fall most into the pattern of. Hmmmn.)

I recently seriously acid-burned my fingers by spending like 7 hours cutting peppers and garlic. They hurt so bad I thought they would split open or something. I was talking to Nero (a guide) about it, and he made it go away totally, the pain, for about ten minutes. I shifted my attention and it came back. I was pretty damn impressed that he could do that though. Or maybe I did it but either way it was impressive. (By the next morning they were ok.)

It's raining, supposed to thunderstorm today. The back seat of my car is stuffed with four small flats of seedlings. The thunder is rolling and I think I'll do something constructive here. That about sums up my recent life. Mostly I've been doing archmeds -- or trying, denial puts me to sleep often lately! -- and gardening and spending time with the kid. Viewing... barely... still working on getting 'regular' time for that. Around "having a life" that's kind of hard. It's a matter of priorities, and viewing is so important to me, and yet... so are other things. Ah, the dichotomy...


Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Relationships and Attachment

Sometimes when I come out of a remote viewing session, I have a short period where anything I think about, information about it just slides through me. It's rather like a period in my past when "information channeling" seemed to be pretty natural, not that I knew much about the subject at that time. Sometimes I get information about the session or myself, because I happen to have a thought or question about something like that just at that time. Other times, there's been something on my mind, and so the information has related to that.

A few years ago I finished a session and just happened to think of several semi-related things at the same time. It had to do with my little girl and our occasional arguments, my parents and their relationship. And I got a line of information about all that.

Now this works best when you hold the initial question in your intent, and then get the hell out of the way so the information can flow. Apparently there is a reason that trance channels actually leave the body: because as I have proved, if you are unwilling to do that (because you're a paranoid control freak), you stand a good chance of completely screwing it up.

The problem is that the information itself sparks new ideas and thoughts and questions. And the instant your mind is sparked by that, or follows that, you literally change the path of information slightly--you change the question. The result is an information flow that literally shifts its focus slightly with every sentence or half-sentence, which obviously results in a far lesser product in the end.

(I have very often wondered if this is part of the problem in remote viewing, actually: that as we start getting information we often slightly shift our focus to more about the info we just got, instead of staying with the original focus of the task-intent.)

I thought I should write down somewhere the info I got that night on relationships, because I still think of it often and wonder what there might be to it. (At this point it's completely paraphrased of course, as I've no idea where the original info is.) It's made me re-evaluate the role of argument and dispute in any relationship -- with children, with lovers, with friends, with siblings or parents or coworkers. I guess I had never thought about it this way before.


Relationships are defined by the degree and style of 'attachment' between the individuals.

('Attachment' in the way the Eastern religions use the word: it can be positive or negative, and is defined by its divergence from 'neutrality'.)

The more intense relationships have the deepest degrees of attachment.

The dynamic of attachment creates a need for definition: we 'sum up' what we believe a person to 'be' when we love or hate them.

We are attached not so much to the person as to our definition and interpretation of that person.

For the definition to change more than slightly, we must 'let go' of our attachment enough for that shift to take place in our interpretation.

Imagine holding someone very tight in your arms. When they grow and change and that is no longer comfortable, you have to let go briefly, so they can find a new, more appropriate and comfortable position for both of you, before you re-connect.

The newer an intense relationship, sometimes the more need there is for this process, because the initial definitions that were part of the attachments are incomplete. As the individuals know each other better, 'adjustment' may be needed less frequently.

This adjustment must be done or eventually the individuals will realize they don't know each other anymore: they have both changed beyond the ability of an 'adjustment'. They will either dissolve the relationship, stay strangers, or start the process of forming attachment over again.

In human relationships, the adjustment happens via emotion, usually anger. Separating a person from their attachment to another even for an instant is not easy, and it has to come from within that individual. The subconscious takes steps to bring about the emotional situation where this can happen.

Anger itself is a pushing-away emotion. It often comes with a releasing emotion (such as "forget you!"), or sometimes with a re-evaluation emotion ("maybe I really don't know him at all"), as well as the anger itself.

These moments (the more intense, the moreso) allow a lessening of attachment for a moment -- a minute, an hour, a day, whatever is necessary -- enough that the individuals can both be more fully themselves, and will be forced, if they wish to fully re-attach, to accept and allow the current energy-shape of the other person to be their new subconscious definition.

The stronger the attachment, the more intense the emotion necessary to separate sufficiently to allow adjustment (and the stronger they are likely to re-bond when that is past). This is why new young lovers often love and hate with equal ferocity, while a couple married 50 years may merely spend an afternoon irritated. Over time, attachment (if healthy) relaxes in relationships, allowing more natural growth and change in both individuals without stress to the bond.


Well, that was all. But now when I fight with someone I love, I figure maybe it's a needed event, and that we'll be stronger after that. Maybe the incredibly moronic things we sometimes fight about, are just the subconscious's way of getting us to that emotional place we need to visit to allow the shift.

I always thought that a person wasn't really a proven friend until you'd had a couple really gnarly arguments with them and gotten through that. There are several famous sayings about that 'proving ground' for true friendship. Maybe that's partly because two people can never wholly know each other at first attachment--and that if there were not those adjustment points, it would be a sign that there was not much attachment to begin with.