Respect, Trust, Sacred Space
Within each of us is a sacred space. It is in our minds, going down our body, through our chest, down into the stomach
and past the pelvice. It is an egg shaped sphere of personal space. Here in the sacred space is our own internal silence.
In the silence is our connection to the earth and sky and ourselves. In the silence is our observation of all else and all
others and everything going on around us.
When I had returned from the dreaminess of having personalities I was completely aware again. I had returned to my so called
sanity but the voices were still there as plain as day. They did not fall back behind the tapestry and it felt like a great
intrusion on my 'reality'. They were all in my sacred space and turned bad. They became tricksters putting me through tests
and would make these ceremonies of all their music, all the different sounds and songs they introduced me to.
When they took my inner mental voice away they turned me into a thief after they had said I had stolen everything I had
ever learned. I had to steal one of their voices while they were talking in order to 'speak' anything. It had a strange sense
to it, like, if you were on the phone talking to someone but the only way you could answer them back through the phone is
if you 'borrowed' them for a second to say what you wanted to tell them with their own voice.
It took a while to get my own sacred space back. I did my own repetitions and chants and songs. I'd change their words
into anything I wanted or jumble them up. Some things didn't work like trying to scream in my head and shout back or try to
change their music. Some things were good things but others weren't. Some of them were like children you have to make mind
and try to send them off to their room somehow for not behaving.
I remembered before these things started happening to me I would sing to myself in private when no one was around to hear
like when I was driving. When I would stop singing I could hear another womans voice rather faintly singing the same wordless
tones but I couldn't get any of these voices to do that with me. They wouldn't sing my songs and I'd really have to be some
kind of brilliant musician to bring some of theirs forth, some are very beautiful ... others are nightmares.
When I started writing on this site I was really afraid all the voices and their torture would come back but it really
hasn't been that bad. The other night I had a rather cool dream where I was along side a road and across from me was a cow
pasture. In the cow pasture the clouds were coming down from the sky and became beautiful, white, cloud horses and then cloud
cows. I'm trying to work on the re-establishment of my trust, respect, and sacred space. There are some still there in the
back of my head. I still feel this thing to my temple and my communication I receive is that I'll be alright, I'm not meant
to be chased and tormented all my days with 'evil' beings who can't respect anything about anybody. Though, I'll never trust
'hearing' anything quite the same way I had.
There was this one who came up again the other night because I wrote down the Parallel Unity. She's another screamer
who apparently has never left yet. She screams and rages just like someone having a tantrum and that I won't listen to or
put up with. She seems to me like one who needs healing and I believe relatively, she'll go away or calm down through some
kind of healing. It doesn't matter anymore if it's only me or not. I know this one isn't me projected off in some fragmented
way and if I'm wrong, that's fine but I'm not embracing them. She was screaming and raging but I wouldn't listen to her, I
began to try to go to sleep with her still going on until I began to see her raging, hoarse-ish voice as sands racing within
the wind across some dunes and as flapping sails from a ship in a heavy gail. I continued this, visualizing her voice was
racing sands and sails in a gail until she did seem to fall away into it and I fell asleep and slept peacefully.
Another one who has stayed is Whisperer. This one isn't unpleasant. I kind of like her. She whispers in a way that would
sound scary to someone else, it's eerie and her favorite repetition is "freaky deaky". I tried to write for her in a fanfic
called The Spider People but I put the deer in front of the headlights so to speak at one point and she jetted. I finished
the fic but it was without 'her' in a sense, after Shades says "We don't like to be seen". There are some others still there
but I can't really make them out. There is a man within them who speaks calmly and tries to convey he means no harm and never
intended my trust be broken. But it's not like I trust even that for five cents. Still, I know if they are still there, then
something could happen to me again and I feel ready to try to establish some kind of relationship so that if I ever did become
so vulnerable and into a spiritual madness, the tricksters won't take advantage of me.
I do want to be able to help other people some day. To do that though, one has to be able to help their - self. They need
to be a warrior of their self and be the moon to the tides of their sea. There is a great responisibility in all things. In
knowing, becoming and seeking. When ever anyone starts using ceremonies in what they do, they become responsible for that
ceremony just as much as they are responsible for themselves and their children. They become responsible of their prayers
and their practition. We are responsible for everything we do or say, no one else. Then, if someone can't take you for your
own truth, prefering misconceptions and their own thoughts or inability to forgive, love or see with the truth, that is their
problem. Sometimes, even at your own expense.
I've become responsible for embracing my own unexplainable in the way I know it. The voices, music and such that are left,
they are my guides. Some of them need their own healing. We have to learn how to get along. I can see myself as holding the
Talking Stick, as if it is my own sacred device with a special tone. I tell stories and I dream. I never did find my shaman,
but in the tapestry around me, like a great dream catcher over the earth, they have been there all this time helping me along.
All things are a lesson and teaching. Nothing is truely meant to be a will to 'condemn' one's spiritual being to some kind
of hell. We are the creators of our own 'hell'. This is why I do not believe in an angry God. The Creator wants us to grow
and become and evolve as our very own special tones in the universe, as individuals in the great whole of all living things.
Why, oh why, would you ever think such a Father would abandon you forever to some kind of jacked up hell? If there is a way
into such places, don't you think, there must be a way out then, in the light ... in the dark.
So far this is all I understand from what my voices were telling me about they have their own special voices in these realms,
in this universe. They are their own special, unique song which was earned and not just given or rather, not just invented
up. Which was theirs that I could not have and yet they sing it that I might remember what they sound like and what these
tones and songs and sounds and words are.
From the void, the first formation born was the circle. From the void, the second thing to be born was a sound.
In what I have an understanding of I sometimes have yet to find a reference from other living people for ... and it's
hard to write things down I only have a bunch of halves of until they fit together.
I had a dream the other night. My voices were talking to me as I was waking up and this one was saying. "There were seven
resoundings it but the people didn't hear it because it was under the earth, another instrument was tried. There were seven
I suppose this is why I've learned so much in my dreams more than in my waking life. It's really hard to find the things
I learn there on some bookshelf somewhere and I don't have a physically real life teacher. Sometimes I do find things in books,
only, right after I learned it. More like a confirmation that I'm not just crazy and then extending and furthering that. Which
is a relief to feel like you're not the only one.
I don't know where this part about seven sacred sounds comes from besides maybe something like "Gabriel come blow your
horn" ... but this is where it was going:
It has to do with the seven keepings of the keeper. The mantis who held seven boxes that were keeps and was the gate keeper
to the Mantis Gaia who was the kept. And it has to do with my voices and who they were saying they were and were not.
The kept was a Mantis Gaia and she raged and pained and held all the predictions. She painted and stormed and cried and
then washed and rained and then came at peace and creation in the ocean, washing ashore a person who bore a small silver rod
that was a gift and there they stood unable to move further inland.
There was a strange kind of revelation with the Gaia who came boiling up into me. What she showed that goes against many
beliefs right now was a place in Europe where the tales started about this 'Satan'. There was a tree of life and a mythical
dragon in Europe. Long ago, before the Christianity started there in Europe, the Gaia was present in all things and she had
her own clans of people who held secret wisdoms. The worse things got, the more the secrets had to be embodied into symbolisms.
It was this Gaia I was going on about in her own rantings that the dragon and the tree came up. She was the dragon and the
tree. She became the Christian 'Satan' and denounced as 'evil' and driven into becoming discredited by the church as an abomination
when she wasn't these things. She was neither the biblical Lucifer nor 'evil', she was the wisdom of the Earth Mother in the
hemisphere of the Europeans and much of what was there in these knowledges wasn't 'evil' or 'satanic' at all ... but the church
needed to fill those pews. They would see nothing else and their religions denounced anything to do with the womanhood. The
matriarchal was something to fear, repress and enslave because Eve ate an apple. It's easy for some at least to see that now,
but when it comes to the wisdoms there it gets a little harder to find an unconditional acceptance without some predjudice
coming up or aprehension of delving into 'dark knowledge'. The only thing I know there is that ignorance will not save you.
Infact, it is this same kind of 'vanquish all dark knowledge' that has destroyed things like the secrets of the Mayans and
Aztecs. Because they 'worshiped' a snake.
The Gaia that came to me and went on about these things was discredited as an abomination but when it comes to the stories
about the faeries and deva's, the void and the feminine, the Mother Earth, she is part of the depth where so many people think
'Satan' lives in an underworld hell beneath the earth. She also lives in the universe. She is the feminine principle of the
Creator, Creation and the Created.
My very own animal spirit, the wolf, has been seen as an 'evil' abomination from this hemisphere so it seemed only natural
to me that sometimes I end up tracking down questionable trails off the track where people must think I've gone seeking something
'evil' ... and come up sometime with - gifts in my hand of good things that fell out of someones pocket down the road. The
secret is, I don't believe in evil and I do not break the rules of my own ethical, moral values. And the night is mine to
dance with the faeries. My Father and Mother aren't going to abandon me. I am hardley invinsible or fearless and not as foolish
as I might portend, the secret is I embrace life and death, light and dark. I look people in the eyes, because I am a truth,
a mystery and a seeker. Everyone is.
And this is how our own individual sound in the universe goes. It has light and dark, masculine and femunine, mystery and
truth, sacred space and trust, pain and pleasure, aspiration and transformation. The very essance of our components that make
us up, that we also create. We are orchistrated and we are the composure. We are an Ethereal Chorus.
The sacred space is in the center from which all paths permeate and in each individual of us, we stand in the center like
the spider in the web. From the center, we touch all things like a dream catcher. Our sacred space is nessicary to the piloting,
the very essance of all the senses in reception. Our trust is nessicary to the journey, the risks willing to be taken there,
and our respect is nessicary to the honor and recognition of all life and self as we move and stirr, sing and cry, light and
I believe one thing all the voices were trying to tell me without actually being very direct about it, waiting for me to
draw my own conclusions and win myself like a victory over them ... is that we are indeed pre-destined with some fundamentals.
One of them is that we as individuals are in the pilot seat of our self, and there is something far greater than that self,
that won't let one fall too far away in despairing because they are larger than the tapestry, they are larger than the dream
catcher and they want a person to succeed in their good and learning. They gave the sacred space to the individual, and if
the individual is sitting in the center with this great dream catcher around them, touching all things, then this greater
one would be the sun that dissolves all the nightmares from the strands when it rises.
If we don't share what we know, or what we think we know freely and just leave it up to Guru's way up in some mountain
... people will tear down the mountain, throw the Guru in a loony bin or trapse him off to 1-900 Ask Miss Cleo. Until they
cannot see, hear, taste, touch or feel anything. Then their sixth sense and then their seventh sense, will drive them insane
because they are not tasting, touching, hearing, seeing or feeling anything but the fabrication they have built around themselves
and deemed "the reality". They won't be able to "hear the seven sacred sounds" calling to the earth to wake up.