Archived from the former firedocs blog. 10 September 2005
I've been thinking about the magic again. His name was Nestor, and he was the 'real thing' that I suspect legions of fakes have attempted to emulate. A healer; some call it a 'psychic surgeon' though to be honest, I don't like that term. The account I wrote about the experience not long after said,
I had this profound and rather important feeling while we were talking. It is difficult to explain and sounds a silly, but I'll try.
I felt "internally certain" that IF ONLY I could be around him long enough, just stand next to him while he did this on people, that I could do it. That something inside of me "recognized" whatever he was doing. That somehow his... faith? skill? I don't know.... would be almost contagious, if only the exposure were possible for me. I considered this consciously during that time, and I couldn't find any logical reason why I'd feel that way, I just did. It was the... internal equivalent of something on the tip of your tongue. Like ALMOST recognized. Almost there. Almost made the connection. . . .
He didn't do anything that martial arts traditions around the world haven't described as possible. Still, it was . . . fascinating. Not sure why it's on my mind lately.
Lately. . . for a couple weeks now, I wake up with my chant to Archangel Michael in my head in the mornings. Michael is the first and last thing I think about each day. I feel like he is calling me, like I've been asleep, in part "psychically hidden" from those identities which seemed to over-notice me previously, and it was time for me to 'wake up' and I didn't, so he is stepping in to get my attention.
I've been doing the rosary . . . only partly, as I haven't got any rosaries anymore, and am waiting on a very overdue paycheck so I can go buy one. Praying more often. When I listen to music, I feel more of the love and inspirational elements of the song than normal. I suppose I'm about to go on a spiritual binge or something. Haven't done that, what, since 1993-5, the Bewilderness era.
So, talk about timing. Day before yesterday, My little girl said Hilary Duff's song "Fly" was good, and I got her the album from PirateBay (clearly, my sudden slant on spirituality doesn't keep me from stealing MP3s LOL!). She's right--it's a great song--sung by a man with a band arrangement, it might have been 80's glam-rock. I know that if I were really "awake," it'd be buffeting my chakras--during those zones, I can't listen to anything but classical, and I can feel the music in my torso, as if each instrument is a color and they are playing a pattern inside me. Apparently I'm still a psychic brick, since I've been listening to this song overly loud in headphones and loving it. It is a bit inspirational (for pop, haha), and maybe I like it because the lyrics tie into my current feelings:
Any moment, everything can change . . . feel the wind on your shoulder
For a minute, all the world can wait . . . let go of your yesterday
Can you hear it calling? Can you feel it in your soul?
Can you trust this longing? And take control --
Fly ! . . . Open up the part of you that wants to hide away
You can shine . . . forget about the reasons why you cant in life, and start to try
Cause it's your time . . . time to fly
I feel like it's time to come home to the center, to that feeling 'through my middle' that I am tied into the universe, so to speak. I miss Michael... I miss that faith. Maybe it's time to give up the wandering and get back to work.