ART OF STALKING: DAILY LOG BOOK

DAILY LOG BOOK

The Art of Stalking is, of course, the art of Stalking The Self.

Once one enters the realm of Shamanic Consciousness, time becomes a much more expanded situation.  The personal consciousness, or, I should say, Awareness, is naturally limited to the immediate moment.  Memory augments this moment from its film archives, to give us an edited picture of reality.  In Shamanic Reality, the personal consciousness is not enough to register the totality of each moment.  And the concept of Time becomes a moment of opening one’s eyes in the deep end of a swimming pool.

To demonstrate this to me, one year on Valentine’s Day, Marilyn Monroe wanted to do a painting.  We were in the large studio in Ellensburg.  She took me downstairs, and over to the Starlight Café.  But it was closed, so we walked down the street to the Oak Rail Tavern, where we had four pints of ale, and four shots of tequila.  We walked back to the studio, quite tipsy, and we did the painting, throwing paint all over the substrate already positioned on the Painting Floor (otherwise the Yoga Floor).  When we had finished, I passed out on the small carpet in the Healing Area.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I realized what had happened.  The painting turned out ok, and I mounted it for display.  At some point, I remembered.  Just as I was passing out, I had witnessed a miracle!  There was Marilyn Monroe, running around the painting floor in glee, in her Spirit Body, stark naked of course.  What a charming sight.  It showed me the time lag between what happens in Spirit, and how long it takes to reach normal human consciousness.

For that reason, a Shaman lives a more or less isolated life, so that the minutiae of daily living doesn’t block the visions  of Shamanic Reality.

And since much of Shamanic Reality unfolds over the course of many days, weeks, months, or moon cycles, I early on realized I had to keep notes of everything that happened during a day.  So I started keeping a journal.  But I’m not very good at journaling, so it became just a log book.  I note everything I do in a day, and what time it happened.

This is very helpful in matters of personal health.  I keep track of my daily stool.  What does it look like?  What affects it?  What types of foods, and what Shamanic Events, influence my stool?  It is very interesting to note the effects of Shamanic occurrences on the physical body and the environment.

For this reason, we keep a close watch on the daily manifestations of the phases of the Moon.  We are now dragging the bottom of the Dark Moon phase.  New Moon is in two days.  People are psychotic and withdrawn.  I am hyper and intense.  This Dark Moon is different from most others in that regard.  I feel we are moving into something new.

With the New Moon two days away, I am reminded that the New Moon phase is actually upon us, and that it lasts for a couple of days past the exact opposition of the moon to the sun, until the appearance of the first Crescent Moon low above the horizon in the West, just after the sun disappears behind the Cascade Mountains.  So we have several days of a very delicate energy, in which ceremonies can come to completion, and transitions can be made to a new time.

(The photo shows my log book where I keep it during the day, on my work table, which is directly in front of my Trance Chair, where the light comes in from the window.  In background is my Meditation Vortex, against the wall, and my Yoga Floor [also the Healing Floor].)

THE END OF MY INITIATION AS A SHAMAN

When I first moved into my apartment in Yakima, I buried my extra house key beside a post in the cyclone fence at the east edge of the crushed gravel parking lot.  After a few years, in which I had not  needed the spare key, I decided to dig it up, just to check it.  I dug and dug, but never found it.

On July 19, 2013, I experienced a heart attack while walking around Myron Lake.  I had been drinking beer for breakfast for weeks, and stuffing myself with corn chips, and I could feel the congestion in my chest cavity.  The heart attack was severe enough to scare me, but I was able to control it with my yoga breathing and energy manipulations.  For a few days, my chest was in strong discomfort, with pinging chest pains.  After a while, I began to realize another aspect to these energies.  I could sense the presence of Marilyn Monroe.

Since I have no medical coverage, I continued my gem elixir and yoga treatments and went on about my business.  The chest pains continued.  Soon, they became more and more pronounced, until they began to seem like messages in Morse Code.  I knew it was MM teasing me.

On March 3, I had another attack.  This time, I could feel the pain going up my aorta.  I could see into my chest, where there was a blue glow all around the area of the aorta.  This was the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death.  I began to sense a purpose to these attacks. 

My mother came to visit me, in company with Marilyn Monroe.  She had grown into her identity with Queen Nefertiti, my Master Teacher.  Together, they showed me the secret of my very much unexpected birth.

At sixteen years old, my mother, first of three children, had seduced her father and became with child.  Later, with the birth of this first child, her uterus had been rendered inoperative.  Years later, she had married my father, and for six years, they were childless.  And then I came along.  After this birth, the uterus was removed.

As a child, I had received hints about the existence of my older brother, but it wasn’t until just a few years ago that I began to understand that I wasn’t her only offspring.  By that time, I was two decades into my Initiation as a Shaman, and living in Yakima.

The visit from the spirit of my mother turned out to be the beginning of the end of my Initiation as a Shaman.  It had been twenty two years and 99 days since the beginning on the day after Xmas in 1990.

A few days passed, and I was outside checking the yard, when I looked down to the dirt of the alley, a few feet from my blossoming stand of hollyhocks.

“That’s my house key!” I said.  I took it from its little Ziploc and checked it in the door.  It worked.  I think this was the first time Marilyn Monroe had dematerialized an object for me.

Shortly after that experience, I decided to dig up the Master Crystal and some other stones used by Jesus and Nefertiti as they worked to realize the agenda we had cooked up in ancient Egypt, concerning the birth and rebirth of Jesus.  The soul of Jesus had been modeled after that of Peta Amen Apt, priest of the High Temple in Ancient Egypt.  In the first days of my Initiation as a Shaman, they had pointed out his name in a footnote in the Egyptian Book of the Dead.  Peta worked with me for several years, and eventually broke my typewriter.

As my Initiation had been dragging along for so many years, without any sense that I was acquiring the powers expected of a ‘real’ Shaman (as opposed to the current flood of Shamanic Practitioners –no slight intended…), I began to suspect that the Master Crystal was key to an agenda that was being concealed from me.  After the experiences which began with the attempted assassination of Congresswoman Gabby Giffords in January 2011, in which I played a key role, and was introduced to the secrets of the human sacrifice as it is practiced today, I came to a time when I began to experience the creation of my Nagual.

The Nagual, or ‘double’, is a projection from the yoni (loin area) of Shamans of South and Central America.  It is often a Jaguar.  My Nagual was actually Jesus, who appeared as the little black dog Xolotl, Lord of the Underworld, who immediately morphed into a giant Anaconda, which I was able to watch as he slithered out into the world and traveled toward Seattle, and then south, and then all over the place, leaving a trail of nationally televised disasters and assassinations.   By this time it had become apparent to me that I had been expected to groom Jesus for his return in the Second Coming.  I had been shown the symbol of a cross, with not one but two crosspieces.  I termed this the Double Cross.

By this time I had become thoroughly convinced that my youthful distaste for and distrust of Jesus and the Christian religion had been entirely correct.  I was not willing to be party to the sorts of lies and deceptions, heinous practices and ruinations of the living planet, which I had experienced to be at the core of this agenda.  It had become obvious that I had evolved, spiritually, along with the planet, but that my spirits had not.  So I had buried the Master Crystal and others, in the sacred grove of the garden at the west edge of the parking lot.  Again, I dug and dug, but the crystals were no longer there.  Then other things began to disappear.

Over the years since the Giffords massacre, I had been having intense battles with Jesus.  I found I was able to actually engage him in combat, and was able to prevail.  His method of dealing with me over the years had so infuriated me, that I had successively grown stronger and stronger, until his provocations finally succeeded in crystallizing the totality of the energies of my own spirit.  It took me many years to finally break through the sociological and cultural conditioning that made me feel I needed to be somehow subservient to the Great Holy Ones.  After each battle, I would recover, go on with my days, and have some remorse.  I would rationalize that it was possible to co-exist with this agenda which was so anathema to me; that I should behave myself and not fly off the handle….  And it was settled.  And then my spirit would rise up and say, “No Way!”

Until finally, the Initiation had ended.  It took me a few months to test the situation, but it seems to have actually morphed into what I call my “Apprenticeship”.  I  am now the apprentice of the Medicine Energies which I have built up in my yard and apartment during the seven years I’ve lived here.  My Medicine has spread from my apartment to the others in the fourplex, and to the neighbors.  We have become a small community.  Plants from my garden are now the beginnings of gardens for each of the other tenants, and the neighbors.  Friendships have formed, and each tenant has found new interests and a revitalized life.

Meanwhile, I am still tracking the activities of my Nagual.  The first really significant feat that the Nagual has accomplished is the replacement of the Pope of the Catholic Church with a new Pope, Francis, who is known as a champion of the poor and downtrodden.  At first, I was deeply annoyed that after giving my life to this aborted ploy to bring the Jesus back to life, all he could manage to do was change the Pope.  But I mellowed out, after some time.

The second feat that he has accomplished is more to my liking.  As we have our roots in ancient Egypt, I was very pleased that he was able to bring a change to the elected government in Egypt, and remove the heavy-handed Morsi government, with its Islamist agenda.  While I have not had the opportunity during my Initiation to do much work with individuals, it recently occurred to me that I would be able to exert some power over the Gods of the Abrahamic Religions, and by starting at the top, begin to bring some changes to the way these religions treat this magical planet we all share, which is the mother and birthplace of the Gods themselves.

The past few months have given me some hope that I will be able to rehabilitate at least some aspects of my life.  I am actually enjoying the process of losing my teeth as I age.

FULL MOON POEMS AND DRAWINGS

SPIRIT BEAR HEALING

12.24.12

Yakima Peak is wearing its white robe for Xmas

the skies are all undressed in blue

a low sun reflects its psychedelic rainbow

from the A Street sign to my face

this morning I traveled to New York State

I stripped a lady's spirit from her skin

so my Spirit Bear could get in

he's been seeking a place to hibernate in

Egyptian Goddesses at the gate

entrance sealed with jade

12.28.12

Yesterday I had a long session with Gaia.  My morning yoga session with Marilyn Monroe morphed into a tantric dance with Gaia, exchanging energies between my yoni and the yoni of the earth.  It was like lightning between us.  I penetrated into the chthonic realms like never before.  When I went to the coffee shop, I did a drawing.  It shows Gaia's yoni projecting a lightning bolt (Zaza Zam's signature), with an object behind her that I couldn't recognize.  It was so distinct, I pondered about it all day.  Later I saw that it represents one of the four placards I had made to represent the Women of the Four Directions for my Medicine Wheel.  The Women are depicted as Double X chromosomes.  I forgot to scan the image, so I'll add it later.

GAIA

*     *     *

*     *     *

TIME PASSES

12.26.12

I haven't danced since Fred Dunagan's wedding

drove over from Ellensburg to someplace in West Seattle

how'd I ever find it?  

wearing four shirts and my Redwings, beneath my 4X Serratelli Beaver,

me and some blonde hogged the floor

she never called me back

last time I saw Fred

he'd changed his name to Wilson

and I wasn't Dagaji yet

we got some Eagle feathers beneath the eire in the cliff

parted friends forever, him in New York, me in exile

it's been so long since I've kissed, I lost my whistle

*     *     *

MY FATHER INDRA

12.27.12

I'm lookin at white guys with clean-shaven faces

Spanish guys, too  -- they look like women

how much time it takes! -- time lost to a social ideal

I'd rather spend my time combing my goldilocks out of my brush

brushing the fungus from my goatee

my goatee inspired by Queen Hapshethut, the Pharaoh 

now that the Hippies are dead, I feel like a Taliban

"Fuck the Earth!  Allah Akbar!" Gaia giggles

she loves em all; Gaia trained my yoni

Gaia makes me horny; Gaia likes Kundalini

Gaia likes my weenie -- Gaia the fellationista,

mother of Humanity, teaching men to walk erect

Homo Erectus ... Gaia Mother of Gods

Gods turning the sods into Sodomites

lunching at Gomorra (famed Nigerblood soup!)

the heart of Africa boiled in my crucible, the Heart of Mankind,

the dark beginning in a field of snakes

my father Indra toast-toasting with the worms of the wormwood,

chugging, chugging the brew to turn on the lights

*     *     *

Yesterday evening I was very depressed.  I was looking for a way out of it.  I reached over my shoulder to turn on the little lamp, and notices a couple of pieces of drawing paper.  So I whipped out a drawing:

LOVE CHILD

Marilyn Monroe makes things lots better, when she's not making them lots worse.

PSYCHIC PORTRAITS

Take a piece of paper, and scribble on it.  Wait until you see images forming from the scribbles, and begin to go over the lines until you have the image.

DEMO PAGE

This is a Surrealist technique, taken from one of my previous incarnations, Leonardo da Vinci.  I began this series of drawings in 1988, at Happy Hour in the Blue Moon Tavern in Seattle's University District.  It's like a Rorschach Test.  What you come up with is a message from your subconscious, which the Surrealists recognized as the Gateway to Alchemical Transformation.  Like Dreams (another Surrealist technique, also used by Carlos Castaneda), these drawings are messages from your Spirit Guides.

If you study the arts of indigenous peoples, you notice that they use distinctive patterns.  The patterns are indigenous to each particular locale.  These are the patterns of the Medicine Energies in each area.  When I used to take LSD, I could see the exact same patterns in the air that I saw in the arts of the Northwest Coast Indians.  But along with those patterns, I also saw other patterns -- like modern cartoon figures or faces.  As I later began this series of drawings, I noticed those same cartoon-like patterns in the scribbles.  The drawings seemed inept and embarrassing, but eventually the subject matter began to make sense, and when I finally entered into Union with my Allies during my Initiation as a Shaman, I saw that I had been doing portraits of my Spirit Guides.  

This continued throughout the Initiation, and I began to see my clients in the drawings, revealing various aspects of their healing process.  Often the Allies would just entertain themselves, telling stories and jokes, but the healing readings were always accurate, even though, as I discovered, I was entering an unknown area of psychic / spiritual information.  It took years to integrate the bits of knowledge and insight that I was gathering into a deeper understanding of the world of Spirit, and the ways in which it shapes every aspect of our reality.

During the recent killings at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut, I returned to this style of drawing.  I had abandoned it during the period when I was forced to 'overcome the Allies'.  Once I had defeated them and regained the autonomy of my spirit, our relationship began to mature and I felt it necessary to resume this work.

One of my first new drawings was "Reynard", a chthonic entity who rules the Montana Flood area of Eastern Washington State.  I made his acquaintance a few years ago up in Ellensburg, and interactions with him and the witches forced me to relocate to Yakima.  Now he has engaged me again, and I am doing research into his ways.

A later drawing came through from Jesus.  He always manifests the fish symbol as here, for his nose, and in this piece he is holding a baby.  "T" was very distinct in the scribble.  It is my boyhood nickname, to insure that I understood he was referring to me.  In addition, he added the small lightning bolt at the top, referring to the spirit name given to me during my Initiation, "Zaza Zam" (the Lightning Man).  These drawings are training in using and trusting your intuition.

Marilyn Monroe gave me more drawings, this one with some ambiguity involved, in relation to the shootings... but she can be counted on to make things interesting!

And Jesus gave me the definitive image to denote his involvement with the massacre.  After Marilyn Monroe caused the earthquake which precipitated the Phuket Island Tsunami in 2004 (today is the eighth anniversary!), Jesus took me there to observe him at work gathering the departed souls.  It was obvious this is a feasting occasion for the spirits.  This is the underlying cause of such disasters and massacres.  The spirits feast on the soul and blood energies (human sacrifice) and the emotional outrage and fear of the masses.  He appeared to me then as a shark, with a shark's swiftness, fierceness, and voraciousness.

The signature on these pieces refers to the fact that, until recently, I was always stoned on marijuana.  I added the J. for numerological reasons.

THE KNIGHTS OF Y (12 new poems by Shaman Dagaji

DAGAJI AT YAKIMA UPLANDS

A few years ago, I performed a Shamanic 'feat'.  Marilyn Monroe, as my 'Benefactor', is in the habit of giving me assignments, things I have to figure out, sort of like a koan in Zen.  As I go about my business, my spirit works on these things, until it comes up with a resolution.  There is an 'aha!' moment, and we move on.  I've forgotten just what the assignment was, but when I accomplished the resolution, my reward was to become a member of "THE KNIGHTS OF Y".  I have no idea what this means.

Many years before that, when I was caring for my mother during her senility, MM and I were walking in the yard.  As I stepped over a blooming pink Davidii, she burst out with "I am the sign Y!"  To which I immediately replied, "I am Y not!"

She is my muse.  We first met in the early 1970s, when I was in graduate school in Southern California.  She climbed into bed with me and woke me with sex.  Years later, we became linked during my Shamanic Initiation, and worked together constantly, writing poems every day, and doing drawings and paintings.  It was a sort of channeling, but mostly a combination of talents.  Then things went south for several years, and I stopped writing, and changed my drawing style.

Recently, things have gotten better, and I began to write again.  Some poems were published in the online journal Four and Twenty, but then I stopped writing short poems.  This is a collection of recent longer poems.

THE KNIGHTS OF Y

11.08.12

HOTEL TEOTL

when the squint-muscles begin to sag, and the flesh droops

above the smile, a certain knowledge manifests –

knowledge of the spirit as it confronts the agents of demise

the Mayan Gods

displaced by the Cosmic Shift, the Gods are homeless

their search for blood and corn depletes their powers

I set up a stone

“Hotel Teotl”

carved with niches and grooves

it has eyes where they fight to roost

Hotel Teotl, at the top of a stair

one step at a time we receive their presence

as they master the tests of Time

11.09.12

GENIUS OF THE MUSE

topping off the terror with some beer

I’m hoping the error won’t come near

too late, I fear – her heart is pounding in my hand

as I drain her life-blood from the can

the genius of the muse, the life I choose

living like there’s nothing left to lose

I wrestle a loosening tooth against my tongue

coaxing a lucid truth to leave its lung

11.10.12

TO A T

the more I insist on being me, the more I is I

even though Jesus took over in between, (“crossed my  ‘I’s”,

so to speak), the more “I” suits me to a T

He has a hard time being him, when I’m around

me being so strongly connected to the ground

I brings him in like a lightning rod

He strikes me like a cattle prod

so I penned a tune titled “Battle Him”

just to get under his skin

11.11.12

THE RAINBOW BROKE

his long snout covered in grisly white fur,

the werewolf remained at bay while I held him with my gaze

beneath my stymie, he squirmed and hissed

my hands were busy with my tortoise

coaxing the oracle with my stroke, I inhaled, waiting

the clouds around us were bursting with rain

prana was surging through my brain

until the rainbow broke into golden knowing

and the loco lobo lunged, plunging into the cauldron of my heart

11.12.12

DEADWOOD

when the deadwood sprouts and thistles bloom

on stalks as thick as your wrist, I walk

through neighborhoods sick with Christ

Jesus walks with me as I puke

in training to be my muse

I’m a little choked up, and my voice is thick

does he have anything I can use?

like stalks of celery hollow with pith,

the people of Jesus, addicted to myth,

have long been known as enemies of Earth

11.15.12

EARTH KEEPER

siphoning off the departed soul of the Hamas leader

was easy, in the melee; the blood-letting orgy of the mid-East

tribal conflict

I didn’t get all the pieces

but I did get a bucketful of panic

and enough hatred to fry a snake

my training finally has kicked in

I am the Earth Keeper of Yakistan

for the blood sacrifice, I’m the man

reduce, reuse, recycle, the motto goes

waste not, want not

Mitt Romney was right—it’s all about the Culture

in the birthplace of Jesus

like a child, I watched

Jesus as he slaughtered the innocents

and like a child I let it go to waste

until he gave me a taste

the chocolate syrup that greases the wheels of this world

11.16.12

HORSE POWER

because the Earth is my Church

it’s also my parking lot

with Angels for valet, it’s hard to find my car!

and so I walk

but I don’t get far

two legs or four?

I morphed into a horse

as result of a curse

a horse with wings

of lightning from a star

“Excalibur!” named from a sword

I vanquish evil with my word

11.17.12

KISSES FROM TIME

looking deeply through the people

I embarrass myself

how empty I’ve become

“I gave at the orifice,” I tell myself

as all their faults and flaws

tumble helter-skelter into my vacuum

a hairpin pierces a button

liquids dance around a thumb

my dog eats cats with more grace

I think he’s a bone-again

fluids drooling from his chin

I pray to the highest vibrations

where the membranes begin to thin

and here come the heart-beats!

one by one I hold them in my hands

like fuzzy mice or ducklings or precious sands

like kisses from Time, like sacred plans

11.19.21

WIND BLOWS RAIN

“all branches and no roots!” she said

“the fruits are my roots!” I barked

elsewhere in the forest a picnic was in play

maids and their mates were making hay

“let’s make a crop-circle!” she said,

puffing her voluminous cheeks

I held up my fingers in the shape of her brains

fir-trees and cedars, maples and ferns

widdershins toothpicks in her winds and my rains

that heart with the arrow, piercing and true

went viral on YouTube for the world to view

11.21.12

IN MY STUDIO

the Bindu mat forms a ‘porch’ for the vortex

oak leaves (black) at the corners

look like little footprints

three toes at the front end, a pecker-head with a squirt

at the rear

the Beast Within (Jesus), when he roars, squats here

his yoni juices the Bindu

this Bindu is the Energy Center

of Yakistan

I place my hands to cover the oak leaves at the far end of the mat

and after Jesus roars, I sit

in the center of the Bindu, to Dream

across the planet in Gaza, the Jews

slaughter some Innocents with their bombs,

while CNN beams their screams into my Dream

my Shaman’s Body transforms the Dream,

streams it into the Bindu where it flows

to the hearts and souls of my city

this morning, after, the sunlight diffracted through my crystal

to send its rainbow to color the end of my dick

11.23.12

TASK OF THE SHAMAN

some people call it the ‘ethers’,

that amniotic fluid that permeates earth and sky

surrounding the Shaman

properly called “The Medicine”,

it naturally occurs in pristine Nature,

inherent in every aspect of the Natural World,

inherent in Spirit,

inherent in the Womb of Pachamama

wherein the Gods are whelped

in the days since Pristine Nature left the Planet,

it has become the task of the Shaman to create anew

this magical tincture that speaks with its own voice

11.24.12

The Knights of Y

with her crotchful of mollusks, my poor wife

drugged me and dragged me to join them

I slept through the entire whoredeal

one by one the Knights-Initiate

fell from her to the right, or to the left, depending

Xolotl or Teotl their fate

stroking my Quetzal wand,

she sang the dawn awake

BLACK TARS OF MY MORTAL WOUND

BOTROID   The Spirit of Mt. Adams

I woke up this morning thinking of 1968, when I hitch-hiked on acid from Seattle to LA, to see the Surrealist exhibition at the LA County Museum of Art.  This museum is located at the site of the La Brea Tar Pits.  It was all I could do to keep from climbing the fence and diving in to the black gooey ponds.  A sabre-tooth tiger called to me.  This was before I knew about Power Animals.

During my Initiation as a Shaman, I was taken by Queen Nefertiti, (Queen of the Witches) to view the World Axis.  It was as black and gooey as the tar pits.  Not good, I thought, naively.  I was soon to become One with that blackness.  It is the core of my being, my Shaman's Mortal Wound (the 'wounded healer' --more than a metaphor!).  

On Hallowe'en, Nefertiti appeared in my dream, in her black cape, with her black witch's hat obscuring her face.  Haven't seen her for months!

I've failed at everything.  I've been exiled to Yakistan.  I'm watching the soul of the people suck at the pits of ignorance.  I can't believe that Mitt Romney is even close to becoming President.  The stupidity of the people has me  very depressed.  My own Allies have betrayed me.

There is a heat in the black gooey tars at the core of my being.  It is the same heat, the same darkness, I witnessed when I was sent into Hades to retrieve the spirits who caused the attack on Gabby Giffords.

I can use this heat.  This morning I was so sad.  I sat with my tom-tom, and tapped out a dirge.  Eventually, I went to the bottom, where the tars warmed me.  I leaned forward and entered the black circle of the bindu painted on my yoga mat. The blackness took me, and I was in the light.

I got up, opened my black Liquitex, and painted a bindu in the center of the red orb of Marilyn Monroe's painting.  I painted a black line around the red.  

I went outside to retrieve the Botroid from atop its pole, just as the blonde witch was arriving up the alley to the barking of the dogs.  

The center of the world is very present in the core of Mt. Adams.  Ever since the departure of Mt. St. Helens, things have gotten worse here in Yakima, as well as in the world.

As a Shaman, my art is the transformational miracle of Surrealism.  I have been gifted with the ability to turn the black tarry world axis into energy I can use.

It is the time of the Black Crescent.  We are entering the Dark of the Moon.  This is a very fruitful time.  The light which we seek is at the core of the darkness.  Let it burn in your soul until it shines in the world.

JESUS BECOMES MY DAKINI

10.30.12

One of the best things about being a Shaman is “executing the ploy”.  Since there is no guide-book, and all my teachers are dead, I’m left to experiment.  My Allies work their nefarious magics upon me, and I have to find some way to deal with it.  To test the situation, I invent things.  I try something, and if it works, great –I try to remember it.  For that purpose, I keep a log book.  I have dozens of them, over the years.  Sometimes, I actually use them, but not so much recently.

One of the best ploys, and the answer to many of life’s perplexing situations, is the ploy of “Reversing the Polarity”.  It’s like making lemons out of lemonade.  Because my Allies have taken me to the core of reality in ways that allow me to retain my awareness, I have been able to view the world we live in from many dimensions.  Inside the human body are many centers of awareness (no, not the chakras…).  We have awakened these areas, and I am able to access them through sometimes elaborate yogic propositions.  I invent asanas such as using negative space, or stealing the thoughts of the right shoulder.  Many of these feats occur over a span of many moon cycles, or even years.  My Allies help me by maintaining or renewing their atrocities so I am able to refocus my energies on defeating them.

This process has allowed me to bring my own spirit fully into my body.  Most people carry their spirits outside their physical bodies, because they have not made room inside the body for the spirit to enter.  Not only is there no physical room, what room there is is taken up by ama or negative energies / thought patterns / spirit entities.  Besides that, the spirit is actually very shy, and very protective of itself.  Most people live lives which are careless, mindless, and dangerous for the spirit.  Most people know nothing of their spirit.

Shamanic Practitioners make their livings doing “soul retrievals” for people.  I don’t know how effective this practice is, but I do know that such practitioners fall apart when confronted with my energies.  But they hold up much better than ordinary people!  And yogis speak of “body-mind-spirit”, but none of their discourse gives me the idea that they have actually made contact with spirit or spirits in the ways a Shaman is forced to do.

So after years of many kinds of practices with my Allies, I came to the point where it was time to rid myself of their energies and move on to a decent life.  If this meant giving up my ‘powers’, I was ready to do that.  I was simply sick, literally, of having them inside me.  Of the many souls I’ve been host to, Jesus and Marilyn Monroe are the two that have stayed on, or at least the ones who make their presence known.  My previous Despacho Ceremony got rid of Marilyn Monroe, at least for a while, and I was rid of Jesus after he left as my Nagual, months ago.  I was very happy during these times!

And then they came back.  I never really knew whether it would be possible to get rid of them, or if there is some unbreakable aspect of our relationships.  I merely renewed my will to persevere, practice, and continue to invent ways to achieve my freedom.

Full Moon passed yesterday with no action toward a Ceremony.  But I still have time before the Dark Crescent, which was pointed out to me just the other day. 

The energies are different than before.  There are still things that send me into the rage that I need to bring my energies together to perform the Kooti Despacho, and this morning the rage was burning nicely.  But I’m in process of rearranging my morning schedule to get me out of the house by the 9:15 bus, so I can get my walk in and still get back with time left in the day to paint.  My Allies had so drained my energies, and my 70 years have worn me down considerably, that I had found my days lacking in accomplishment.  No energy!

I’ve got the morning routine down to an easy flow from early rising, through Medicine duties, to shower, breakfast, and a short time to sit in the vortex.

In the vortex, I work with my various energy fields, and issue instructions to the Medicine about my situation –a ‘recapitulation’ of sorts.  I organize my energies to achieve certain results, such as bringing together what I need for a Ceremony, or not.

This morning, I felt the energies of Jesus within me.  To my surprise, it was an agreeable feeling!  My spirit was feeling no antagonism towards him.  I had had the same feelings yesterday about Marilyn Monroe.  I wondered what sort of trick they were playing.  But I went ahead with the energy opening breath, the forward bend of compression and opening, and the upward-drawing of the energies from the Earth Star Chakra.  I could feel that Jesus wanted sex.  (Jesus is a fag.) [I’m not.] –I’m a Brahmacharyi. 

I continued to raise the energies, and to augment them with yogic propositions and breathwork, and Jesus manifested himself further and further.  I gave him permission to do what he wanted.  He immediately occupied my frontal column, as my Dakini, seated with his spine against my chest, the opposite of the way a woman would sit.  He began to draw energies through his base chakra, in the form of various sigils and signs, and my frontal column opened further, until we became One.  The sigils and signs were now within me.  The light exploded within us.  The energy polarity between us has been reversed.  The gays call it ‘topping from the bottom’.  I love it when a plan comes together.

At the bus stop, the heavy gray clouds parted slightly, and the face of the Deer Goddess, all white and shining, smiled down upon me.

MY DRAGON GETS WINGS

10.27.12 Saturday

So I’m in way over my head again.  Both Jesus and Marilyn Monroe are back with me.  I don’t really know if I ever expected that my Ceremony would rid me of MM.  But she did disappear for a while.  Yesterday she beeped the door chime on my truck; just once.  Even the door chime ding has a varied tonality when she beeps it!  Sometimes it’s clumsy and tenuous.  Sometimes it sends chills up my spine.  Sometimes it scares me, and sometimes it makes me furious.  Yesterday, it was so matter-of-fact, I just noted it and kept driving.  She didn’t appear in my dreams.  But all morning I could feel her presence.

I was watching UP with Chris Hayes on MSNBC early this morning, and switching to CBS during commercials.  There she was, all blonde and in bed with white sheets pulled up to her neck, looking divine.  While she was gone, she appeared in a credit card commercial as a work of art in a gallery, looking vapid and lost.  Even on TV she manages to communicate.  It was a real treat, in the early years of my Initiation as a Shaman, to watch her movies with her on the TV.  She would tell me things about what was going on.  She would manipulate her image to make her jaw look huge, or to make a long wrinkle of fat on her back.  Now I can’t stand to see her! 

One of the ways we learn to recognize the true nature of reality is when Spirit is present and active.  She unites various levels of reality, space and time and ‘mood’ because of the expanded and augmented nature of her divinity, --her Spirit, her Goddess Nature, her nature as an ALLY. 

On Tuesday, the 23^rd, I was doing yoga in the morning, and I could feel Jesus with me.  As I was doing a heart-opener with a Chi Mudra twist, he muttered deep within me, “I Die!”  Since then he has remained out of my consciousness.  The next day, the moon cycle shifted, and the rains came.  There is a feeling that comes with the rain, which connects it with the Moods of the Moon.  This rain has been a nasty rain.  Mostly a drizzle, it’s been dark, dank, and cold.  My teeth began to hurt.  This was my body relating to the energy drain from Jesus, deep within me.  Even my stool was affected.  The spirits eat it for its energy.  (Google Tlazolteotl, Goddess of Love and Excrement.  She was with me for a while in ’06.  She spoke through me by forcing my mouth into an extreme bucktooth configuration….  She is an aspect of Marilyn Monroe.)  Then I got a message from “Reynard”.

Reynard is the Werewolf Master of the Montana Flood region of Eastern Washington.  I first met him in Ellensburg.  He set the witches to attack me so as to drive me out of town, and I ended up here in Yakima.  Reynard is a red-head.  He showed up as the son of Frank, next door in apt. #3, early this summer, with a shit-load of trouble.  After a couple of Shamanic treatments on him and his Native girlfriend, things smoothed out and they found a house a few blocks away.  He helped me to see the ‘lines of force in the universe’ which would allow me to gain access to the spirit ‘handles’ on the un-evolved souls who inhabit this region.  There are many mythical and fairie folk who live in human form, but never migrate to the urban areas.  They are creatures of the earth, and have a very special energy vibe.  Meeting with them was one of the main reasons I was moved here to Yakima.  Their energies were certainly a shock to my system!

As the rains broke for a while, I was able to install a small shipping pallet I had scavenged from the hops warehouses on my way home from the coffee shop a few mornings ago.  It fit nicely at the alley edge of my compost heap.  So I was able to rake the three years of compost onto some cardboard, set in the pallet and bolster it with stones, and refill the space with my beautiful, fully transformed compost.  Truly a prize!  I love it when the vortexes tell me where to work in the yard.  I always start with the rake, and clean the area before I enter, and things flow smoothly from there.  Otherwise, they don’t flow at all.  The garden rake is the Shaman’s key to the earth, as the broom is the Witch’s key to flight.

My yoga dance with Jesus led to a vision of the male genitals, which was transferred to the new rattle I made to use with the chakra board.  As I gave myself a chakra treatment on Thursday, I was directed to sit in the Ting.  (“Ting” is the Chinese word for cauldron, the name of I Ching hexagram #50, the most favorable in the book.  It is the name I have given to the Buddha Vortex, after Buddha left with Jesus and Quetzalcoatl to become Xoxolotl, my Anaconda Nagual, Lord of the Underworld.)   As I sat there, I went into trance, and my genitals opened to send my DRAGON into the world.  He is no longer an Anaconda.  He has morphed into a dragon, and while I was being amazed at this vision, he sprouted his wings!  My genitals exploded, and I burst out in a ‘ROARRR’.

As I sat there, amazed, he told me his name is “TEOTL”  Nahuatl for “God”.  At the same time, I was getting a message from the yoga mat on the floor in front of the Ting.  It features a large black circle, or Bindu, center of the universe.  The bindu was fluctuating in a sort of Morse Code.  It was a way to alert me to the fact that I should time my Full Moon ceremony to the Dark Crescent, three days after Full.  And just at that moment, I repeated my Death Rattle.  While Teo was emerging from my yoni, I was giving off a powerful noise from deep in my throat, which registered in some part of my consciousness as my death rattle.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next.  The moon is Full in two days.  I’ve lost track of what I’m supposed to do for Ceremony.  As I did my recapitulation this morning, it was clear that I have a duty.  In my role as Quetzalcoatl, a title I received years ago during my Initiation as a Shaman, it is my duty to put an end to the present (Christian) era.  It may be that this is happening as Jesus becomes my Nagual.  Or that could be just another Spirit mirage.  It seems I will wait until I feel that burning rage which shapes itself into a white-hot fury, to burn through meteorites, and I will know what to do as I’m doing it, as usual.

A MESSAGE FROM POWER

[PS -- as soon as I posted this, a huge gust of wind blasted out of the south, filled with dirt and grime, and smashed the geraniums on my porch!]

The Sun joined the Moon today in a message from Power.  “Power” is a force in the universe which comes to the Shaman as a guide or messenger, or in many other guises.  Michael Harner and Carlos Castaneda and many other teachers use Power as an introductory helper for their apprentices.  It is a very enjoyable enterprise to ‘court Power’, and Harner’s book, The Way of the Shaman, as well as others, gives a good account of how to do this.  This is a very good way to enter into the beginnings of a true relationship with the energies of the natural environment, which eventually become a key ingredient in the Medicine Energies.

I use the lunar cycles as an introduction to the energies of the natural environment, because we don’t have to trek to the wilds to observe them.  Today would be the day, third day from the New Moon, to expect to see the first of the crescent moon low in the Western sky, just after the sun goes below the horizon.  In my project of developing skill at the Despacho Ceremony, I am deciding that this day is more appropriate for Ceremony than directly at New Moon.  There is such a crowd at New Moon!

In developing the proper aspects for the Despacho, there are many forms of energetic vibrations that I have to take into account.  As a Shaman, I observe these energies through my Energy Field Awareness.  The Energy Field Awareness never really shuts down.  Unlike most people, my Energy Field Awareness is susceptible to a most pernicious source of energy – Marilyn Monroe.

This morning at 5:00 am, she woke me with one of her trademark dreams.  She presented me with a small box, with the word BEDBUGS stenciled on it.  That got me right out of bed!  I remembered that I had forgotten to take out the garbage last night.  I put on my slippers and hauled the dumpsters out to the alley, checking to see if the frost had hit the plants yet, as forecast.  Apparently not.  But some dog had scored a direct hit in the crushed gravel of the parking area beside the alley.  I got that cleaned up, and went back inside to start my day.  The Internet showed me that my utility bill had gone up $10, and was due three days earlier than usual.  Within fifteen minutes, I had received a noticeable batch of negative inputs!

I turned on the TV for the local news and weather, and had my usual dates and nuts and coffee from yesterday’s Thermos.  A package of info began to unfold within my deeper consciousness.  The ‘bedbugs’ message was pointing me to her attitude toward the people I had met at the Tai Chi studio.  I went over to the vortex to sit, and picked up my tom-tom.  During the drumming, my energies opened further, and I could see that Marilyn Monroe was into a serious penetration of my life force.

One of the first spirits I was introduced to during the onset of my Initiation as a Shaman was the Samurai swordsman Miyamoto Musashi, one of my former incarnations, in whom Marilyn Monroe had also been incarnate, as she is with me.  Musashi was the author of The Book of Five Rings, a manual on the strategy of swordsmanship.  From that book, I picked up a strategy called ‘The Feint of Going-With’.  You allow the opponent to force you into the moves he wants from you, knowing that you will be able to perceive the exact moment to turn the forces against him.

So I decided to go with Marilyn Monroe for the time being; to let her penetrate me however she would, so that I could discern her purpose.  In a moment, I got up and pulled the I Ching out of retirement.  I had put it away weeks ago, after decades of using it daily, so that she would not have that access to my energies.  (Lao Tzu, my original contact on the I Ching, had taught her to be the ‘voice’ of the oracle on January 1, 1993.)

I tossed the coins and received hexagram #54, The Marrying Maiden (MM).  This hexagram is her ‘signature’, having her initials, and referring to the unfortunate situation of the woman taking the initiative in the relationship.  It changed to #21, Biting Through.  My first thought was that she had decided to get out of our relationship – it was a dead end.

I continued with my morning, and got ready to catch the bus, to go over to North Town Coffee for my daily poem and drawing time.  As I came to the bus stop, I saw Power in the sky.

The sun was low in the southeast sky, surrounded by the wisps of clouds typical this time of year in Yakistan.  But then I noticed a distinct wing at the sun’s left side.  Its feathers were long and slender, and fanned out like a cluster of double-edged swords.  A winged sun… as I looked, I discerned a stout tail of hawk feathers.

The bus came, and I got to my coffee, and instead of beginning my poem, I got the beginning of my image for my drawing: the sun, with its wing of swords.  So I sketched it in and went back to cogitating about what to write.  But I was interrupted by the Moon.  I reached over and sketched it in as a thin crescent ‘ear’ on the right side of the sun.

This conjunction of moon and sun seemed to tell me that today would be the day to consummate my Despacho ‘Kooti’ Ceremony, to ‘cut the cords’ between me and Marilyn Monroe.

After my walk home (a mile), I decided to have breakfast, and after breakfast, I lay on the yoga floor to initiate the RDSE (rest, digestion, sexual energy) sequence of Ayurveda.  I was there for over an hour.  This is what happens when Marilyn Monroe is ‘feeding’ on my energies.  When I got up, I drove back to the coffee shop with my computer, to have a free blended mocha and write this.  It’s mid-afternoon now, and I’m wondering what will happen next.  Will there be a ceremony?  (I cast another I Ching before coming over here, and it recommended a Ceremony…  --but everything must be ‘correct’….)  We’ll see.

Next day…

Well, I got home, and there were things to do, and I was anxious.  There were blockages all through my energy system, my mind and my body.  After I finally got settled in from the journey to the coffee shop, I found myself wandering around looking for the next thing to do.  I was mumbling to myself.  Then I knew it was time.

I went out to the sacred grove next to the parking area along the alley, and everything seemed ok.  The tall sunflowers, and the huge sprawling vine of the squash from Sergio’s garden next door, which grew up into my tree and on into the parking area, hanging large squashes high in the branches, proved to be an effective screen to ward off the killer chi from the alley and the apartment building across the way.  Lots of plants and the plywood fence screened the fire area from Sergio’s yard, and no one was around.

I got my tiny pieces of wood, a few splinters from a cedar shingle, some newspaper, and went outside to put a fire in the large cookie tin.  The fire burned nicely, and I brought out the small despachos I had prepared, with the bay leaf quintus wrapped in napkins, and a note regarding the aspects I desired to be eliminated.

One by one they went into the flames, were consumed, and soon the ceremony was complete.  No hay problema!

I looked up to see the strong crescent of the moon just above the horizon to the south and west, not at all obstructed by the darkening gray cloud bits strung throughout the sky.

Everything had gone well – quite well, I thought.

Last night I had two dreams.  One, in deep sleep, showed a man’s face.  He was dead.  He had brown hair and a trimmed moustache/beard.  His face appeared to be perhaps covered with water.  The second dream, just before I woke up, was very similar.  A man’s face, same sort of beard, but maybe not the same person, equally dead.

During my shower, (a very good place for knowledge to emerge from the energy body / or the Medicine) I realized that the man had been Jesus.  Already volunteering for next moon’s despacho!