I suppose this is the more appropriate spot for this:
Are women real? Are most people we encounter, real?  Or I suppose more specifically, organic? Alive?? I had a very powerful trip the other night out camping, and I'm really trying to unravel a bit. Insight is appreciated....
On the dream emissary: "What is the dreaming emissary?" "Alien energy that has concisness. Alien energy that purports to aid dreamers by telling them things. The problem with the dreaming emissary is that it can tell only what the sorcerers already know, were they worth their salt." "To say that it's alien energy that has concisness doesn't help me at all, don Juan. What kind of energy--benign, malignant, right, wrong, what?" "It's just what I said, alien energy. An impersonal force that we turn into a very personal one because it has a voice. Some sorcerers swear by it. They even see it. Or, as you yourself have done, they simply hear it as a man's or a woman's voice. And the voice can tell them about the state of things, which most of the time they take as sacred advice." "Why do some of us hear it as a voice?" "We see it or hear it because we maintain our assemblage points fixed on a specific new position; the more intense this fixation, the more intense our experience of the emissary. Watch out! You may see it and feel it as a naked woman." ...
"Is its advice safe and sound?" "It cannot be advice. It only tells us what's what, and then we draw the inferences ourselves."
Now, what does that sound like to you? To me, it sounds like a mirror. An inorganic mirror. Or, if you want to use more mystical and magickal terms, the Moon. The Moon is the mirror of the Sun. It reflects the light and energy that is given off by the Sun, but produces none of its own.
The Moon is female... I've had my share of experiences which confirm this analogy. With that in mind, read on...
"On one occasion, a scout guided me very roughly through countless tunnels, as if searching for something, or as if it were trying to draw all my energy out and exhaust me. By the time it finally stopped, I felt as if I had run a marathon. I seemed to be at the edge of that world. There were no more tunnels, only blackness all around me. Then something lit up the area right in front of me; there, light shone from an indirect source. It was a subdued light that rendered everything diffusely gray or brownish. When I became used to the light, I vaguely distinguished some dark, moving shapes. After a while, it seemed to me that focusing my dreaming attention on those moving shapes made them substantial. I noticed that there were three types: some of them were round, like balls; others were like bells; and others yet like gigantic, undulating candle flames. All of them were basically round and the same size. I judged that they were three to four feet in diameter. There were hundreds, perhaps even thousands of them.... At the level where we were, it seemed to me that there was a commonality between the shadow entities and myself: size."
"Perhaps it was because I judged them to be the same size as my energy body that I felt almost cozy with them. On examining them, I concluded that I did not mind them at all. They were impersonal, cold, detached, and I liked that immensely. I wondered for an instant whether my disliking them one minute and liking them the next was a natural consequence of dreaming or a product of some energetic influence those entities were exerting on me. "They are most likable," I said to the emissary, at the very moment I was overpowered by a wave of profound friendship or even affection for them. No sooner had I spoken my mind than the dark shapes scurried away, like bulky guinea pigs, leaving me alone in semidarkness."
""This is the shadows' world," the emissary's voice said as soon as I was there. "But, even though we are shadows, we shed light. Not only are we mobile but we are the light in the tunnels. We are another kind of inorganic being that exists here. There are three kinds: one is like an immobile tunnel, the other is like a mobile shadow. We are the mobile shadows. The tunnels give us their energy, and we do their bidding.""
More discussion of shadows. The shadows of the living... the inorganics. The illusions, perhaps? The Bible describes the creation of Adam, yet, Eve was nothing but a creation OF Adam. A piece of him. Basically, I'm asking, are Women simply our mirrors? That which helps us to see what we're emitting? That which allows us to observe ourselves? For they have nothing of their own to emit?
Sorry if this offends your sentiments, but take them as they are... thoughts. Thoughts that were stirred up within me. Being one with God makes me wonder if the inorganics want nothing more than our power. Our life. For without it, they are nothing but an empty mirror.
I've heard told that the original sin was Adam tasting of Eve's fruit, if you get what I mean. That he willfully gave Eve some of his life, and in doing so, perpetuated the dream. Now, I'm not so found of this version, because it paints a bad picture on the whole life thing, but it does make me wonder. What is conception? If one is alive, and the other not, what are we doing? We're creating a reflection of life... over and over and over again. Repeatedly. Perhaps there is only one way to end the dream... to return to the Garden of Eden. To return to paradise. And that is by stopping the reflection of sin.
-------------------- Why shouldn't the truth be stranger than fiction?
Fiction, after all, has to make sense. -- Mark Twain
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