Wim Hof Weekender: The Awakening…

As I left the M6 and meandered through the narrow country lanes of southern Cumbria, I saw that civilization was being left behind as bar after bar dropped from my mobile signal until the “No Service” sign revealed that a period of digital detoxification had commenced. The valley and hills of Longsleddale was to form a natural and protective barrier from the chaos of a world gone sour, for forty-eight hours at least.

And it was during those forty-eight hours that I found the true meaning of being human, hitherto forgotten by the vast majority of society.

I had been looking forward to my first Wim Hof Weekender for quite some time and for a variety of reasons. Firstly, I had already seen a self-transformation since starting the daily practices over the last few months, and wanted to take it to the next level, and to perhaps get an understanding on whether I wanted to eventually become an instructor. Secondly, I wanted a boost to get me over the hiatus I had experienced this month, due to work pressures and illness. Lastly, I wanted to get out of my comfort zone, to hopefully deconstruct who I thought I was by plunging myself into freezing cold waterfalls and have the strength to put myself back together. As it transpired, I got all of those things and much more, more than I could ever have hoped for before setting off from suburbia.

As the valley approached, my GPS decided to quit on me as I reached a crossroads, giving me the opportunity to search deep down in my DNA for residual and ancient wayfaring skills, locked away for situations just as this. Somehow (not sure why) I felt I was going the wrong way so stopped the car, only to see a bloke coming down the road in the opposite direction with hair longer than mine, so taking a punt, I turned around and followed him, my intuition serving me well as we turned into the car park of the outward bounds centre.

Greeting and thanking my erstwhile navigator, we both marvelled at the scene that was painted in front of our eyes, with cloudless skies and a setting sun casting bursts of oranges and yellows on the hills behind us. It felt like something special was about to happen.

The barn, where the magic happens…

The barn house chimney was sending smoke signals our way to beckon us inside to meet with our comrades for the weekend, and over the course of the next couple of hours, our squadron was assembled, as far east as Greece, as far west as Brazil, as far north as Scotland and as far south as Australia, although the vast majority of us were from these green and sometimes pleasant lands.

Our instructor introduced the team for the weekend and shared that there was no structure to the events that were about to transpire, save that we would all get cold, wet, breathe well and eat well, and at the end of proceedings, we may just understand our real selves a little better than before.

One thing that was mentioned from the off was to have an open mind for the weekend, to leave all judgments at the door and try to eradicate the ego where we could, to have open and honest conversations with all participants and listen, truly listen to what was being said and to react where possible without conflict.

The mandatory “creeping death” took place as we all introduced ourselves and shared with the group why we were there and what we hoped to achieve. Brevity is key with these things, so I shared that I hoped to fine tune my practice to take it to the next level, to see whether the path of being a Wim Hof instructor was one I wanted to pursue, and how me and my hippy companions back home hope to build an eco-retreat / wellness centre in North Wales over the coming years, allowing me to leave behind the corporations once and for all.

As an introductory exercise, we each took a partner and sat opposite them, and were instructed to look deep into their eyes and say “Every time I see you I see…” several times over, based on each of our introductions and visual/energetic perceptions. The exercise was meant to put us out of our comfort zone, and clearly it did. I managed it OK but felt that I could have done more, but there would be other opportunities to get to know others more over the weekend.

Next up was to walk around the room staring only at the floor, using our feet to say hello and connect, not looking up. Then it was to move around the room and to look deeply into each other’s eyes and move on when it felt like the right time. The last, was to again look down not knowing who we were opposite, and just use our hands to greet, no touching.

What happened next was special, a true connection. A pair of hands were presented to me, and not knowing who they were attached to, we formed an invisible link, neither compelled to withdraw and move on. We stayed there for minutes, unable to move, the energy freely flowing between both of us. Clearly as one who has gone through rudimentary Reiki training, I understood what was going on, she never. As we raised our heads to see the other, the slight shock on her face turned to a smile, and I explained what had just taken place. Even though she was a yoga instructor, she hadn’t had Reiki before, and I guess she has now, and that special bond would stay with us throughout the weekend.

Our host for the weekend then gave the group some introductory information on the Wim Hof Method and humbly shared her “warts and all” backstory, in her words, from a highly successful corporate player to lowly café plate bearer and world’s worst Wim Hof participant.

We all have our backstory, and with her sharing hers, looking around the table it was clear that we were all thinking and reflecting on our own, in all likelihood sharing those with some or all of the group by the time the weekend was over.

It was already cold and dark outside and none of us expected to hear the words “get changed into your swimming costumes, we are going for a waterfall plunge”. Say what?! But get changed we did and with a plethora of head torches illuminating the hill, we ascended Stockdale Beck and saw the beautiful twilight waterfall, with semi-shallow pool of cold water, into which each of us immersed ourselves in for around two minutes, which was followed by warming exercises (the horse / warrior stance).

Stockdale Beck, somewhere in those trees…

Back to the barn for an evening meal and a warm by the wood burning fire, the cuisine bar was set very high from the off and never dropped throughout the weekend. Simply put, it was some of the best food I have ever tasted, all vegan/vegetarian, fresh, various and made with love from a pair of beautiful souls from northern Italy and Antipodea respectively.

Feeling somewhat energized from the dip and the amazing food, we then took part in protocol / regular Wim Hof breath work as well as power breathing. One thing I noticed almost immediately, was that my practice wasn’t what it should be, but after several rounds of breathing I felt the wave and perfect flow for the first time, the rhythmical movement allowing me to be comfortable in practice. As we bid each other a good night’s sleep ahead, I felt already that the course was worth it.

As we went back to our respective tents, the constellations kept watch over head, the cloudless sky remained and the three-quarters full moon cast spectral shadows on the icy grass. Needless to say, it was the coldest night I’d ever spent in a tent and my sleep wasn’t the greatest, but sleep I did, albeit broken.

No rest for the wicked anyway as a seven-thirty start got us back into the barn to listen to the science behind the Wim Hof method (which I loved) and how nasal breathing allows the body to become more oxygenated, and how protocol breathing (anerobic) and retention allows for better meditation and calmness, whilst power breathing (aerobic) reduces body alkalinity and as a result super changes the cells and gives our bodies a natural immune boost.

I’m always mindful of not taking the body too far, it was to my detriment with ashtanga yoga several years ago when I managed to dislocate my trachea when my ego wanted to put its feet on the floor behind my head, so I’m mindful about the Wim Hof head squeeze with my tinnitus. The last round of power breathing in the morning made my left ear go numb, not deaf, but a dull sound lasting for a couple of minutes. Let the body do what the body can do, but don’t risk illness or injury in the process.

All of that said, the breathing flow was much improved as an individual, but for the first time the power of the group really came to the fore. I felt the draw to pulse my energy to the group and made hand gestures to push my healing energy out to others, and as a collective we all felt completed to do the same thing, which clearly had a profound impact on us all when we reflected on the session.

Clearly we had worked up quite an appetite as we demolished our breakfast, fresh fruits, yoghurts and sitting well in our stomachs, washed down by the most amazing mango lassi I’d ever tasted, better even than Mowgli, my favourite restaurant in Liverpool. I did say to our chef from heaven that I was going to kidnap her and take her home, I do hope she saw the funny side of my veiled yet humorous threat.

Next up was the ice bucket challenge, two minutes of hand plunge into a bucket of ice. New to this was an “om” or “aum” chant during the second minute. As a group, we chanted each other through the cold, which worked incredibly well as the time went superfast, so the same can be adopted at home with the five minute cold showers.

In an effort to breath more through the nose, we had our mouth taped up and walked / jogged up and down the beck, followed by a brief sprint, again our host gave us the science behind it and how she had run a marathon breathing only through her diaphragm / nose and as a result not needing any water.

After a lunch of homemade soup, salad and spiced beans, we took to the road and hiked up the valley to the source of the River Sprint, the scenery absolutely breathtaking. I took the opportunity to talk one-to-one with several other comrades, sharing my deeper backstory of alcoholism and bloated ego which almost lead to the destruction of my marriage ten years ago, the darkest days of my life.

Got some great insights into the reasons why other folks were there too, and that there was a trend going right across the group to leave behind the corporations and transition to being “wellness instructors” in some shape or form (hypnotherapists, psychologists, life coaches, physical trainers). Clearly I was mixing with the right people here.

River Sprint, look closely for the waterfalls…
Misty Mountain Hop…
Buddhas Cave…
Take another 2c off for flowing water, and it’s a little chilly…
Chilly Dipping…

The first waterfall dip at the “Buddha cave” was amazing, all of us spending a good few minutes immersing ourselves in the pool and under the waterfall, the group pulling together to keep ourselves connected and supported. The water in the shower at home is now 14.5c so at 6c (taking into account the effective flow) it was a lot colder. Feeling invigorated, we all warmed up with the horse stance manoeuvres and made our way back down the river to the second pool, the infinity pool.

After the second dip a little further down the stream, I was the last and only one in, and I casually glanced towards the end of the pool and saw that it was indeed an infinity pool, that waters edge a single line separating the pool from the valley horizon beyond.

I got out eventually and then took to a rock to do the horse stance, and all of a sudden I had realized that the manoeuvre I had emulated from Wim Hof didn’t really flow for me, and I looked down at what I was doing, and I was making the flow of an infinity sign, next to the infinity pool. Infinity, it seems, beckons…

Moon Shaped Pool…
Infinity Beckons…

The long walk back also served as a chance to get to know each other’s backstories a little more, and I was drawn back to my “Reiki partner” who shared her journey from equestrianism to flying solo to northern India to become a yoga instructor, a brave and courageous journey which paid off for both her and her new clients. I went deeper into my story too, sharing in more details the dark days when I was in London, working, partying, drinking heavily whilst my wife carried on up north. I still to this day recall that conversation with her, so vividly haunting and in glorious Technicolor, when she said that I was a great father but the world’s worst husband and that it was over between us. As this blog has uncovered ever since, things worked themselves out in the end.

Having an exposure to life outside the hedonistic paradigm most folks find themselves in these days via practices like Reiki, yoga and meditation and now the Wim Hof Method has kept my wheels from going out of kilter and kept me awake, truly awake to what reality is and how important connections to people are.

Back at base, we undertook some more breathing techniques (outside the Wim Hof Method) to add an extra dimension and perspective on how to breathe in a better way and again through the nose, which finally sank in with me as I could genuinely feel the difference.

Evening meal was another joyous feast, this time offering up the best food this side of Bangalore, with popadums, bhajis, butternut squash curry and rice with a lemon yoghurt pudding, teaching us all how that we could indeed eat a pudding in narrow jars from the arse end of a dessert spoon. Who knew…

I brought in the ukulele from the car boot with every intention of playing badly and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, but after an intense thirteen-hour day, I hit the wall and took to my slightly warmer tent.

I was awakened by the soothing sound of rain on the tent roof, a white noise to settle my ringing ears, and after gathering my thoughts on what was an epic day, got up with a can-do and will-do attitude ready for anything. As the ukulele was still in the barn, I did manage to pluck up the courage to knock out a rendition of All My Loving by The Beatles, my fingers managing to thaw out just enough.

As we all gathered, we were instantly instructed to go back and get our swimwear back on as we were off to the waterfall again (the beck close by) for a six-minute group submersion in the icy water. The look on the faces confirmed my thoughts exactly, “already?!”, but we were ready, very ready as it turned out. We took to the pool which had completely filled up overnight due to the rainfall and formed an aquatic circle, joining hands and using the breathing techniques we had fine turned over the course of the weekend to get us all into the zone.

Quickly we started the group “aum” which was very powerful, closely followed by a haka-type chant (similar to the one Wim adopts for the horse / warrior stance). After a while I felt a sudden drop in energy, so spontaneously broke into a second rendition of All My Loving, thankfully without the awful ukulele playing, so that brought a smile to a few faces and got us through another minute or so. After several wolf-type howls from the youngest member of the clan (which I felt compelled to join in with) the six minutes were over, and we all felt we could have stayed in for longer.

Breakfast never felt so good back at the barn, and soon after it was time for our final breathing session. Again we started with several fringe practices, balloon inflating, candle blow outs and yogic box breathing.

And then the magic happened…

We were instructed to use all the techniques shared to finish off with three protocol rounds of breathing and two rounds of power breathing. The waves I formed during the protocol rounds were executed with aplomb, perfect almost, putting me in a meditative state of consciousness, feeling peaceful and at one with everyone in the room. The final two round gave us all the opportunity to supercharge our bodies and the breathing did just that. To get more oxygen in, I held open my nostrils so that which was going in was fully charged. Whilst the power round is not meant to have a breath retention, I decided to break ranks and hold my breath at the end, and it was in that very moment, that something rather incredible happened.

Throughout my journey into esoterica and search for enlightenment, I have always tried very hard (too hard in fact) to “see” things, believing only that visions of alien landscapes, shapes and colours were the only way to validate that there was an “ever after” and that I was awake. Sometimes, one can look too hard for such things, and sometimes, letting go is the answer. So there I was, physically located in a climbers’ barn in Cumbria, but deep inside the physical form of a long-haired lover from Liverpool, a mystical experience was taking place.

All of a sudden, the outside world no longer existed, and I found myself having (what Antony Peake and David Bohm would call) a panoramic life review, but in reverse. I felt myself inside some sort of time vortex travelling back in time, replaying critical events of my life in reverse chronological order. I didn’t see anything, I just experienced it, almost like watching a film with eyes and ears closed, but you somehow knew what was going on upon the silver screen.

Firstly, the most recent reconnection with my mum who I hadn’t seen or spoken to for eight years, the second with my sister who I now have an incredible bond with considering that was abruptly terminated around the same time as my parents. The most profound was yet to come, when I felt myself plunging down a wormhole to my darkest days and the time that my life almost ended with my marriage, and it was at that point that I realized that actually, I had already found enlightenment all of those years ago, and that the old me had actually died back then and a new me was reborn, awakened.

Needless to say, the emotion of that revelation was too much to bear, the tears forced their way through closed eyelids and I began to sob, quietly to myself.

As we brought our attention back to the room and were asked to stand and raise our arms and turn to our left and hug the person to the left, and there was my Reiki partner ready to cradle a sobbing Scouser.

After we reseated ourselves at the table, we individually reflected on the whole weekend and our experiences, and whilst I shared that I felt that I had successfully fine-tuned my Wim Hof Method practice, the true message for me was connection and the power of community.

Notably, all the men found it a very emotional and perhaps cathartic process, with each of us shedding a tear or two as we shared our thoughts with the group. Ask me now what masculine strength is, and I’ll give you a different response. True strength is not how much weight can be lifted, nor how much of a stiff upper lip can be held during adversity, true strength is man’s ability to connect with males and females alike and break down to share their emotions with others, impervious to what society thinks a man should be. Show me an Eddie Hall or a Tyson Fury, and I’ll show you a Greek man training to be a Wim Hof Method instructor, shedding tears and true feelings with what was initially a group of participants who he could now call friends.

Every single one of us, not one person excluded, shed a tear for a lady who had just lost her husband, and such was the bond the group had formed together we grieved collectively for her loss and hopefully took on some of that burden, albeit briefly, to help her on her road to recovery, a sad but truly beautiful moment.

We all came to be taught new things, that was certain, but what we actually learnt was very different. I felt we all came away with the same feelings, that we were not the same people that went into that barn on Friday night, and were all the better for it.

As readers of this blog will know, I don’t believe in coincidence, I believe that the odd things that happen are breadcrumbs placed by invisible hands, giving us a nudge into recognition and action, so it was no surprise to see a butterfly flying around the barn as we left to go our separate ways. We had all gone through a metamorphosis during the weekend, and just like the butterfly, we had now come out of our cocoons (sleeping bags) to carry on with our life journey with a new set of skills to help.

Such was the bond between us all, I shared that I would love to keep in touch with folks and I sincerely hope that happens, I have a good feeling that it will.

Clearly, I’ve shed further tears since, and it’s not been easy writing this missive, but what was apparent, was that I will succeed in my mission to be a “wellness instructor” in whatever shape or form that takes, using whatever methods or practices I choose to adopt.

The cold water immersion gives us that opportunity to realize that anything is possible for the individual, but like the circle of power in the waterfall, if we all work together, we are gestalt, we are greater than the sum of our parts…

The Cycle…

Seven years ago, I completed the first draft of my meditation manuscript, entitled “The Power of Se7en”, its central tenet has numerology at the core.

Twenty-Fourteen saw me evolve to the next stage of evolution really, become more aware about what the Universe was and what it wasn’t. What it wasn’t was meaningless, what it was, was becoming clear after forty-two years of human experience.

When one becomes more aware, more awake, synchronicities (or breadcrumbs as I have called them) appear with increasing regularity. It was being more alert that brought about the number seven and its increasing significance and abundance. Seven colours, seven musical notes, seven chakras, seven deadly sins, lucky seven, seven wonders of the world and the Buddhist cycle of seven years, which infers that one goes through seven times seven-year cycles and at the age of forty-nine, we depart our “childhood” phase and mature to the “adult” phase of existence, and with that enter into a period of spiritual growth, focusing on non-material values, gravitating towards the ethereal, the esoteric, the eternal.

With that in mind, I had planned last weekend very carefully, last Friday being my forty-ninth birthday, which, as it turned out, could not have been better.

The most magical place I have ever been to in the UK (probably the world) is Glastonbury, the Isle of Avalon. My friends and I have been going there on and off for the last three decades and over that time, I have connected with the place on a deeper level each time. From campsites to hostels and now AirBnB’s, all have given me a place to rest after tapping in to the towns vibe, a majestic current of consciousness that runs through everything.

And so it was, that the dawn of my forty-ninth year commenced. At four in the morning, slightly tired still from the chaotic travelling the previous day, my eyes opened to commence their second cycle of existence, and with that a dawn jaunt to Glastonbury Tor. My internal GPS system kicked in as I made my way through the dark streets heading north out of the town centre, through the even darker tree-covered lanes which led to the Tor. Thankfully, and as I would have hoped, there was not a cloud in the sky. I bimbled my way over styals and through the greenest of paths until I reached the steps up the concentric and circular hill the Tor sits atop.

The first step gave me another breadcrumb, indicating that my previous two posts of Duhkha and Suhkha were on point, Yin Yang, balance is the key.

I could already see a few people were atop the hill as I ascended, like-minded folks who were also seen the sun rise over the Isle of Avalon, each for their own reasons.

So I took my lotus perch and sat patiently waiting for the sun to rise. The moon was also playing its part, sitting just to the right of the rising sun, in a perfect crescent, plainly clear to all just how it gets its interstellar luminosity.

Then it happened, the first glimpse of the sun as it appeared over the horizon line, the first time I’d ever seen it from this position as most of the time spent at the Tor in years gone by was at night, partying mostly, home in time for bed before our life-giver made an appearance.

Grand Risings…

Clearly all that witnessed this majestic site where in awe of the sheer beauty of the vista before us, and with that a surge of energy hit me hard, energy from the invisible ley lines, that meet at Glastonbury Tor, the Tor acting as one of the major nexus points in the UK.

As the accompanying plant-medicine kicked in, my being became very small in the sheer vastness of time and space, and for the first time in a good while, I felt at one with the Source.

As the sun rose further and the dawn turned into day, I took a few obligatory camera shots, exchanged a few pleasantries with my consciousness comrades and made my way back to town.

When I got back, my wife was waking from her slumber, so we took breakfast and I shared my experience and photos with her. A short while later, we got our things together and headed over to Goddess House, for a treatment I had booked us both into, to celebrate our seventeenth wedding anniversary. What happened during those two hours confirmed just how magical and powerful Glastonbury really is.

We were greeted at the door by our two therapists for the day, who guided us through the many rooms of the old manor house and explained what our treatment consisted of, namely a ninety-minute aromatherapy massage followed by thirty minutes of healing.

The treatment started with a blessing and some words of love and wisdom from the Lady of Avalon, a spirit who still resides over the place and entwines her energy with that of the therapists and on through to the clients. The aromatherapy session was relaxing, and then the hands-on reiki healing took place. I have had reiki many times before, but the surge of energy and warmth was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Somehow, the energy was going straight to all my “duhkha points” without me having to explain where my grumble zones where, as if guided by invisible hands.

What followed next is difficult, almost impossible, to describe. When we entered the room earlier, we had seen crystal bowls used for sound healing, and neither my wife nor I had ever had a sound treatment before. Even though I have tinnitus, I was keen to give it a go, to see if the frequencies of the singing bowls could give me relief from the constant noise inside my head. Amazingly, the bowls stayed in their position on the other side of the room, but with eyes closed, the therapists played the bowls, at which point the material Universe dissolved (for me at least). There was no body, no thoughts, no time, no space. Just sound, reverberation and pure energy. I was sound, I was energy, and it was good, very good, yet another step closer to the Source.

After the bowls stopped singing (however long that was I couldn’t tell), the therapists then resumed the reiki healing and gave a final blessing from the Lady of Avalon, and it was at this point where all the negative emotion I must have had locked away came out all at once, tears streaming down my face, accompanied by uncontrollable chin-wobbling.

After the treatment finished, I opened my eyes to gaze upon my therapist through waterlogged-peep holes, and there she was, smiling at me, softly saying, that “she is here, she is love, she is healing, she does that”.

Relaxing in a side room after we said goodbye to our goddesses for the day, we sat and drank herbal tea and took red fruits before heading back to town, and when we did, I felt light, so light, due to physical and meta-physical burdens being lifted from me (for a while at least). For the first time in aeons, I felt cleansed, unblocked.

I now start the second cycle of my life, a cycle that will leave behind materialism once and for all, leave behind the broken society and attempt, in my own way, whatever that way becomes once I have acquired the skills, to heal others in the manner I had been healed during what can only be described as a rebirthing ceremony.

Glastonbury, you never fail to disappoint me, I am forever yours, forever connected to you…

Serpents Rising…

There is no doubt that energy is shifting daily like the sands on a windy beach.

Getting back to nature last week and living life temporarily outside the chaos has brought new light on dark times. Ignoring the pandemic, turning off the news and revisiting the positivity of the past has of late rekindled introspection and what gives me inner peace.

Experiencing the sensory and physical aspects of reality – the flora, the fauna, the cloud formations, the rush of the sea at high tides, the setting sun, the rising moon, as well experiencing the mystical and metaphysical aspects of reality too on just what it feels like to part of something so incredible, I find myself at times in awe of such beauty and the associated feelings experienced are rekindling forgotten spiritual connections I have with some people that I have lost touch with over the years, giving me such a huge internal boost in these troublesome times.

It is seven years ago to the very month that I took my reiki training, opening the neural pathways to something quite alien, quite astounding, tapping into hidden energies that had been hitherto out of reach for the materialist I once was (and have been again over the last couple of years).

Once again it was my wife that reminded me of just who I was back in 2013 and how of late bits of my old self had returned. My “being” back then was born out of abject negativity and selfishness, with me operating as it were as a mid-week bachelor and weekend dad (replicating the abhorrent behaviour of my own alcoholic father).

Such was the shame at this realisation that I was becoming him if not already, that drastic action was required else my strong-willed wife and children would be gone, something my mother sadly never had the strength to do.

So an awakening took place, and with it a connection to a hidden and healing energy, a cosmic current taped into for the first time, opening my eyes to the fact that there was more to this reality than the five senses could serve up.

Buddhists and New Age folks say that things go around in seven year cycles, and here we are exactly seven years later and I find myself knocking on the door of my old reiki master “L” who has “upgraded” to kundalini yoga, and has her own practice based out of a majestic place in the heart of the Wirral countryside.

Although I had not seen her for many years, it was clear that time doesn’t exist (does it anyway?) when it comes to a rekindling of spirits. A quick non-non-distancing hug and catch-up revealed that we would pick up exactly where we left off and both agreed that paths we have taken across the years seem to be forever intertwined.

The same for my wife too. She has been struggling too over the last six months as a furloughed complimentary therapist with too much time on her hands, consuming the chaos, facts, lies and conspiracies for most of her waking hours, minutes and seconds each day. She too needed to refocus by joining me on this journey.

I decided after our trip to Devon to remove meat from my diet. The previous seven days had seen us consume half a farm, chickens, pigs and cows were all present on our daily calorie count and a return to the homestead made me feeling bloated and like a badly cooked steak, over-done.

I was a vegetarian for around eighteen months when I took my reiki training and with the new outlook, new friends, new energy and new lifestyle, it was only natural a diet forms part of the new me.

We have all consumed too much during the lockdown, grazing from cookie jars and overdosing on Netflix for too long over the last six months and our portly figures provide the evidence of that, so a dietary change was a must. I’ve also been out every morning running, cycling, kayaking and land-boarding before everyone else opens the curtains, and boy what a difference a week makes.

Tuesday saw our first kundalini yoga session with “L”. I like to understand what I’m getting myself into so spent sometime on Tuesday morning researching what kundalini yoga was all about. I had heard and read some negative and sensational reviews of the kundalini experiencing, ranging from mental instability to whole body orgasms and a lot of other stuff in between. Classifying it as fake news (but having an awareness of it in case I experience such – yes to the orgasms!) we joined the class and took part in what was such a different experience to the Hatha / posture-based yoga I have always undertaken.

Relatively easy positions were counter-posed by vigorous breathing techniques (breath of fire) leaving us both exhausted yet conversed completely invigorated and energised by the end. Everyone in the group was lovely, warm and welcoming, leaving us with the opinion that in some way, we had found our way home.

We spoke fondly of our experience on the drive home through the shadowy country lanes and with energy still racing when we got back home, I went for a run with the old and faithful pooch, giving new life to old legs.

Land-boarding on the promenade and looping the local marina in the morning sun as the open-water swimmers raised the mouths for breaths the next morning reminded me what if felt to be alive, a positive feelings I’d not felt in a long, long time.

If the early part of the week blew us away with positive energy, then what we experienced on Thursday made that look like a mere ripple on the sea compared to the the tsunami which was about to take place. When we have good weather and as we live close to the sea, when the conditions and tides are right, then “L” conducts her kundalini yoga class on the beach, which is accompanied by evening swims and paddling (sea kayaks and stand up paddle boarding).

As we approached, the beach car park (usually only partly occupied) we were surprised by how was rammed it was with vehicles. As we decanted our kayak and paddling gear, we looked up to see over 100 yoga mats laid out facing the sun, a welcoming inward tide and our spiritual instructor for the day in the lotus position waiting to begin. Incredible.

The session was the same as the “kriya” as Tuesday so we both knew what as to come, this time it was easier as we had had the practice, the session was more magical than the previous one, given the setting, the sheer volume of people and the communal and positive energy by all, resonating a common frequency of happiness.

Feeling again totally energised, we spent the next hour kayaking on the open and warm waters of the Mersey Estuary, totally at one with the universe and the like-minded souls we were spending time with.

Without sounding like a stuck record in reference (reverence) to Westworld, the words “Some choose to see the ugliness in the world, the disarray, I choose to see the beauty” never rang so true. If you are in the position to commune with nature and seek out opportunities for serenity, there is no better time than now. I’m mindful that we are not all in that position presently, with my friends and colleagues in India under almost full lockdown so I have to tone down my own personal journey at the moment, so not to fan their flames of despair, but they are in my thoughts and non-religious prayers.

I’m not one for taking good photos, but every now and again I hit jackpot. As my wife was paddling in, I stood waist-deep in the sea as the sun was setting and pressed click, the result of which reminded me of the ethereal Pink Floyd album The Endless River (Sea in this case), which sure seemed to be that way with nothing visible on the horizon, almost suggesting that infinity beckons…

Music of the Spheres…

Plato wrote that the Cosmos is constructed according to musical intervals and proportions. Pythagoras called this sound the “Music of the Spheres” and believed that the sound of the Cosmos fills our inner ears and we are constantly in contact with it from the moment of birth. Native Americans called it the “Song of the Creator”, whilst ancient Hindus called it “Akash Bani” translated as “Voice from the Heavens”.

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One thing is clear, one thing is common. Great philosophers, mathematicians, sages, religions and cultures across time have all identified that the Cosmos emits a sound, a frequency, an energy. Scientists today would no doubt attribute this sound to the dawn of the Universe creation, an intergalactic hum born from the Big Bang, any other description of Cosmic sound being fantasy or folly.

There are others that believe that the Cosmic sound is energetic evidence of the one consciousness, and that everybody has the ability to tune into this sound. This sound is not externally generated (as the drone of the Cosmic Background Radiation is) and one cannot simply listen more attentively or hold ones head to the stars to hear this noise, this frequency is internally generated and can only be heard via esoteric means.

All too quickly do we take the word of science as Gospel; there are materialistic explanations for everything in this World and we are educated and trained to believe everything that the intelligentsia tell us to. Where there is materialism, there is also non-materialism, which lends itself to suggest that there is always at least two explanations for everything and Occam’s Razor is in fact a creation of materialism because it suits scientific theory.

Since the age of nineteen, I have suffered from tinnitus, which was born via esoteric means. My teenage years were not proliferated with abuse as such, more eras and episodes of sadness and misdirection. I attempted several times to educate myself through college but dropped out year-on-year to the point where I gave up completely and became a statistic and sought solace in early afternoon rises, video games and Class B substance abuse.

Anyone who has had a psychedelic experience under the influence can confirm that what ones sees, hears, smells, touches and tastes are distorted. I recall one fateful night that visually, distances and depths were altered and the dimensions of the room changed and warped to contradict our intra-day visions and the laws of physics. The sound too was broken, instead of a being a constant stream it came in waves.

The dream I had that night will stick with me forever. I was sat alone on a beach, with nothing else or no one else around. There I sat for what seemed like an eternity as wave after powerful wave hit me full on in the face without dislodging me from my seated position on the sands.

beach

Without knowing it I was unconsciously tripping in the world of dreams, wave after wave of energy hitting me. When I woke the next day something had changed, I could hear a strange noise in my ears which I thought was odd and slightly disturbing, and I tried to ignore it without success. I retired early that night and woke the next day fully expecting business as usual to return but sadly it not and I freaked. What was this internally generated noise and where was it coming from? I tried to mask the sound by turning up my music (to eleven) and taking headache tablets, but to no avail so I booked myself in at the local surgery.

The only advice my doctor gave me the next day was to get used to it, it was called tinnitus, there was nothing he could do for me and could I invite the next patient in on my way out. As I left the room, my heart sank and as I walked home, half way back to the house I had what I called my first “fell over inside my own head” moment. At random, the tinnitus sound wave crescendoed and hit me like a bolt of lightning with my visual perception also being distorted for a few seconds, falling outside of time and space albeit briefly, shaking me to the core.

One thing was for sure, I had to change my lifestyle with immediate effect, as the substance abuse was having a direct influence on my physical and perhaps metaphysical self. At that time, I didn’t really believe in much; Life, the Universe or Everything. There was no God, no central consciousness, religion sucked, science made complete and utter sense and everything was WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get).

So I did just that. I changed. I remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror one morning shortly after acquiring my new debilitating affliction, and whilst having yet another “fell over inside my own head” moment (albeit within a familiar and safe environment) something quite profound happened (although I didn’t realise it until many years later). As I gazed into the mirror a wave of energy and sound came over me and once again the door of perception was open. For a time (seemed longer than it probably was), I could not work out whether I was me or I was the mirror, reality warping once again but this time without being under the influence. Looking back, that was the first conscious connection with my other self if indeed such a thing existed, it was first-hand and direct experience, albeit a very subjective one.

After I came to the realisation that my tinnitus was here to stay, it was time to crack on with this thing they called life, and get my act together I did. I quickly found myself a temporary job as Chief Envelope Filler for a local pensions firm, which was even more quickly followed up by permanent job in the Civil Service (which lasted thirteen years), which was, even more quickly than the first quickly, followed up by a job in the oil and gas industry (which has lasted ten years so far). In between I managed to find time to get married twice (to the same person) and have three amazing children which make me very proud each and every day.

Hard to believe that all of the above was just preamble for this blog, I guess sometimes context for revelation is required.

It was almost three years ago when the doors of perception where once again flung open. I had been going to yoga for around six months with “P”, a seventy-six year old Western guru in every sense of the word. After the dark times the wife and I went through in twenty-twelve, I needed someone and something to focus on to keep me on track and that was “P” and yoga. I had to put in place, a routine which kept me on track as I was doing a rather crap job at that. “P” helped me and yoga helped me, they helped me from a mind, body and soul perspective. For the first time in my life I knew that all three actually existed and keeping these three things in balance was the key to life.

pam

“P” was inspiring and put me on a path of health, well-being as well as a personal quest for answers. She sorted out the first two and my good friend ”M” helped me on my search for the third one, tipping me off with books from noetic authors which may be of interest. It was whilst on the path for information that I received a random request to take part in a free reiki workshop, run by a friend of my wife. The old me would have laughed it off and ignored the call, but here I was on a personal crusade to find answers and this opportunity presented itself timeously.

As this “blogalogue” has well documented over the years, that workshop had a profound influence at the time and continues to resonate with me today. What I experienced that day cannot be effectively described in words, subjective experiences rarely can I guess. What was very clear though was that there was an invisible energy field that can be tapped into, and when it is, the attuned can experience things which the layman cannot, and experience it I did to balance the mind, the body and the soul.

Deep in meditation, “L” and I were ethereally connected via hidden energies, the waves entered my head and radiated downwards until my whole body was amok with a frequency I had not felt before. It was powerful, very powerful, parts of my body were contorting and my eyes streamed with water (not tears). Here we had a situation where invisible forces were affecting the physical and metaphysical self, for me proof that there was more to what our five senses could perceive and experience.

I left the workshop with my head was spinning, I felt awake but not enlightened, fully aware that this shit just got real.

A year later, I asked “L” for a one-to-one reiki session, and we both agreed that I was ready to make the next step up to level two. I asked her if we could do it on the beach near to where we lived, and as avid Stand Up Paddleboarders it was impossible to resist. The attunement took place as the sun started to descend towards the horizon and once again the Universal energy took hold and mixed with the warmth and the light of the Sun making it a truly magical experience. The significance of the beach and the energy waves hitting not lost on me.

Over the years I have continued with yoga, meditation, reiki and consciousness studies (off and on it has to be said – work and family commitments taking priority, the latter without question, the former less so).

The last few months have been quite stressful at work (both the project and I being “out of kilter”), so I contacted “L” for a reiki session to refocus. I had not seen her for quite some time as we have both been very busy doing our own thing so I was keen to hear that she had created a yoga studio at her house and her attention had turned to kundalini (which coincidentally I had started reading about after a good tip off from author Ellis Nelson).

After chatting for too long, I hopped up on the bed and she gave me kundalini reiki for the first time. After reading half of JJ Semple’s “The Biology of Consciousness: Case Studies in Kundalini” at break-neck speed before the session, I at least had some rudimental understanding of kundalini and how via various processes (Shaktipat, Psychedelics, Meditation and Intercourse) can activate hidden internal energies connected to esoteric forces. Kundalini reiki is the process of connecting the yin and the yang, the male and the female, the root and the head via energy transfer.

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I have always been quite kinaesthetic when it comes to meditation and reiki, feeling the energy flow quite easily between the “attuner” and ”attunee” (sometimes subtle, more often intense) and today was no exception. Maybe it was because I had a willingness and an eagerness to activate the kundalini that it wasn’t too long before I seemingly left the physical realm temporarily and joined up with the other side.

As mentioned, describing such an experience is difficult to put into words, but in an attempt to try, the reiki energy began to rise in my head and instead of the usual subtle energy transfer down the meridian points, the wave headed straight down my core and headed for the root where the two points connected. I could no longer feel the bed under me, I could no longer feel any presence in the room and everything turned a brilliant white light yet it did not hurt to look at it (as I was not using my eyes to see) or be a part of it.

It sounds very far-fetched and perhaps clichéd but for a brief moment in time (or outside of it) I was the light, I was pure energy. Quite exactly what “I” was and where “I” was during those moments remains a mystery. Was I alive and dreaming or dead and remembering? Was I connected to the Source, was I connected to God? Was this all a figment of an imagination which was getting carried away with wanting open questions answered? Was I realising that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves (and where was Tom with the weather?).

After a while I was woken from this altered state by “L” and we chatted a while to discuss what I had just experienced. My intention for the session when I had booked it weeks earlier was to re-focus my priorities to the family, to health and to wellbeing, picking up yoga, meditation and reiki where I left it in an effort to combat the stresses of working for “The Man”. One thing was certain, the kundalini appeared to have been activated (I felt the male and female connections within me embracing – as well as the tantric chemistry of the two), and that was something that I was not expecting.

One thing was for certain, there was something out there (or more appropriately in there) which the current laws of physics, chemistry and biology could not explain. I had experienced this Universal energy first hand on several occasions was convinced that the never-after truly existed.

However, my story does not end there. After the initial revelations of my kundalini experience had been realised and allowed to subside (I’m not afraid to say I was a little shaken by the whole thing) a week later the kundalini came back, and then some.

I have of late been drinking a fair bit, due to an increase in the social calendar (both at work and at home), coupled with the fact that prior to the reiki session I had chosen to find company in Jack, Jim and Paddy (Daniels, Bean and McGuinness) to de-stress from the toils of work (another reason I had scheduled the session).

Two weeks ago my neighbour was 50 and we had a party in his house, drinking to excess until the sun had started to rise. Needless to say the next day was a right off but as the kids were all out, I spent the day on the sofa rehydrating, recovering and reading. As I retired for the evening, I began to drift off but tonight was different, instead of a gradual process of giving in to the melatonin, my waking state was ripped from me violently and I was plunged into what can only be described as a raw energy stream, a brilliant white light again but the sensation was too much, the sound and energy was so intense I kicked and screamed my way out of it. I was riding the lightning, literally.

After a time I shot up in bed and the wife had to calm the hypnogogic me down, quite delirious about what had just occurred. Was this a dream or was it something else? Was this an extreme bout of tinnitus mixed with a rotten hangover? Was it the Universe (God?) telling me to back off, giving me a message to take things easy as I was not yet ready to find out potential truths? It sure felt that way.

When I woke up the next day, my tinnitus was roaring and I was not happy about it. I continued to focus on work and concentrate on the mundane activities of the day, hoping that I was just on “Day Two” of the hangover. As Rhett Butler famously once said, tomorrow was just another day, except that it turned out it wasn’t, the heightened ringing inside my head had not subsided but instead grew louder as each day passed, and I was plunged back to where I was at nineteen, this time really annoyed with myself for getting back in this position.

That afternoon my neighbour called with a bag of goodies leftover from the beer fridge from the weekend before. I opened the bag and found a collection of soft drinks and 0.0% beer, all useless space wasters in the inebriates drinking den across the road, all which I of course welcomed with open arms as the Cosmos was once again giving me a sign to change my ways, which I have already, wagons roll.

Tinnitus is a odd thing, it ranges from hardly noticeable and quite a grounding noise through rather annoying to absolute debilitation and despair and today I’m at the wrong end of the line. I am having to take each day as it comes just now hoping that the “fall over inside my own head” moments don’t reoccur (too much). I have faith that these bouts return every twelve to eighteen months for a variety of reasons and fade over time, I guess (and hope) this current bout will too.

Tinnitus may be my enemy today, but who knows what path I would be on right now if it didn’t set me right all those years ago…

The path is clear, but no eyes can see…

Each dawn that breaks gives one a renewed chance to wake up. Not from slumber in the literal sense, but metaphysically speaking. Each day that arrives brings about change; a day older (for sure); a day wiser (perhaps) and a day closer to death (depends on how you define death…).

Some people (by choice or otherwise) live in a perpetual state of the un-awakened, happy to continue to live out their existence without feeling the need (or having the capacity) to challenge the true nature of reality. As all human experience is subjective and individualistic, no one can truly say that their approach is right or wrong.

For those who choose to challenge the five senses and Einstein’s cosmological principles, the first steps are the most difficult as there is no set path to follow. What is clear is that something usually sparks a flame for knowledge, knowledge which is hitherto forgotten or as yet unknown.

Science, religion, philosophy and noetics seem to be the most logical places to start looking, and most quests invariably encounter all four. Like countless others, my quest had to start by looking inside myself. What I found wasn’t pleasant. What I found was suffering, anxiety, stress and disorder. What was more difficult to find, but not impossible, was the root cause of such pain. What I found was craving, wanting and desire. What was even more difficult was how and what to change. What I found however was the solution and for the first time in my life I could start to see true nature of reality emerging. This was my spiritual epiphany.

Over the course of just a few months, I came to the conclusion that my suffering, fueled through my own desires, could ease by diminishing this metaphysical concept known as the ego or the self and that sustained focus on my “ikigai“, (in my case the family) would yield a new peace within me. Through yoga, meditation, reiki and complimentary therapies, I would keep this inner light with me at all times, ready to distinguish the darkness should it return.

My path was now clearer, and it was only after reading Buddhism: Plain and Simple by Steve Hagen did I realise (without knowing it) that the path and resolution I had followed related to the Buddhist Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path:

  • The Four Noble Truths
    • The truth of dukkha (suffering, anxiety, dissatisfaction).
    • The truth of the origin of dukkha.
    • The truth of the cessation of dukkha.
    • The truth of the path leading to the cessation of dukkha (the Eight Fold Path).
  • The Eight Fold Path

    • Wisdom
      • Right view (viewing reality as it is, not just as it appears to be).
      • Right intention (intention of renunciation, freedom and harmlessness).
    • Ethical conduct
      • Right speech (speaking in a truthful and non-hurtful way).
      • Right action (acting in a non-harmful way).
      • Right livelihood (a non-harmful livelihood).
    • Concentration
      • Right effort (making an effort to improve).
      • Right mindfulness (awareness to see things for what they are with clear consciousness; being aware of the present reality within oneself, without any craving or aversion).
      • Right concentration (correct meditation or concentration).

Whilst I could concur that the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path were a set of principles that everyone true to themselves (forgive me for the use of the word self, Steve) and others should adhere to, what was missing for me was the true nature of reality. Nietzsche was not entirely complementary of Buddhism (as you would expect) and classified it as a subdivision of nihilism, which to some extent I can agree with.

But what is reality? What is it that our senses experience and translate into pictures, sounds, smells, tastes and feels, is it all an illusion? Does true consciousness reside within the brain? Is the true nature of reality hidden from view for a reason? All these questions puzzled me, so the path I took at the crossroads led me to noetics, and in particular the works of Ervin Laszlo and Anthony Peake (my conclusions detailed in The Noetic Nook).

One thing is for sure, life and human experience is subjective and there appears to be no single path to the truth. The key however is to awaken, awaken to the truth that it is desire that causes suffering and to put a stop to ones ego will yield rewards to ourselves and to those around us. We may never truly experience the true nature of reality until we depart from the physical plain, but what we do each day can reduce our physical (and mental) pain.

Instrumental Communications (EVP)

When I think of instrumental communication in relation to other-realm transmissions, my thoughts instantly drift to the silver screen and visions from Poltergeist (TV) and The Exorcist (tape recorder). If such a thing as Electronic Voice Phenomenon (EVP) exists, then what is it exactly is it?

A short while back I did some research on the electromagnetic spectrum on the basis that I had read somewhere that our senses can only perceive 5% of it, and if that was correct, then what was it that made up the rest? The electromagnetic spectrum starts off at the Extremely Low Frequency of 3 Hz (radio waves) reaching to a high of 300 EHz (gamma radiation), decreasing in wave length as the hertz increases.

With the spectrum, there are only 2 specific sections we (as the average layman) can tune into with our senses, namely VF (or Voice Frequency aka sound) which occurs between 300 Hz and 3 KHz and NUV (or Near Ultra Violet aka sight) which occurs between 300 THz and 3 PHz. What we can perceive as reality (sights and sounds) are both visible and audible within such ranges, and we have over time developed instruments which allow us to extend beyond such boundaries (via radios, Infra-Red Cameras and Spectroscopes and the likes), whose job it is to translate image and sound frequencies so we can see and hear what is being transmitted.

If communications are being projected by a consciousness(es) (or indeed the source / the singular collective consciousness) then at what part of the electromagnetic spectrum are they being broadcast on? My theory is that if indeed messages are being transmitted from another “realm”, then certain folks (like mediums, those with psychic tendencies or those who attain altered states of consciousness) have some innate ability (or otherwise in the case of the meditator) to tap in to such communications, experiencing beyond the normal VF and NUV boundaries of the aforementioned average layman. If it is the case that apparitions and messages may only appear to certain folks, which are broadcasted on different frequencies then as long as we have the ability to capture such transmissions via electronic devices, then it should be possible to prove this (should the sender of course wish to – there is always a catch)…

The number of EVP recordings is on the increase (I suspect due to the ubiquitous and affordable technology available to us), all made possible through such works of Faraday, Hertz, Tesla, Marconi and Edison. There are several interesting examples of EVP communications via tape recordings (Gregorian chants – the church wouldn’t lie about such matters surely?), via video (optical feedback loops recorded to reveal images of deceased German personalities) and perhaps the most interesting of all cases which involved Ervin Laszlo, which broadcasted dedicated messages via a radio in front of a room full of witnesses.

The use of electronic devices does open up the seed of doubt as to whether the communications which are transmitted are in fact authentic (much in the same way way mediums are due to “proof by proxy” and not direct experience), and a quick search of EVP on YouTube will reveal servers full of implausible and downright silly examples of this. Trying to find legitimate and actual proof of EVP on the internet is a pointless exercise. That said, several high profile invididuals with cases of EVP (including parliamentarians) were in fact willing to go on record to declare their experience, not caring for the risk of a reputation bashing.

OPINION: My initial research into EVP revealed the exact opposite of evidence (anti-evidence?) so I must say that as of yet, I have not seen or heard anything plausible with my own lugholes and peepers, so I remain on the fence. I did attend a session at the London College of Psychics last night where I recorded an Erlendur Haraldsson lecture relating to his latest book “The Departed Among the Living: An Investigative Study of Afterlife Encounters” on the basis that if there was a location that could project transmissions from the other realm, then that was definitely one of them! I did at exactly 7:25pm get a full on surge of reiki energy shooting up and down my chakras but sadly on playback, no “other voices” could be heard. I do intend to experiment EVP on my own using, I just need to find a shop which actually sells a radio (remember them)…

I would only regard personal evidence as a success if I received targeted and specific messages contained within the EVP recording, not random voices (as these could be cross-channel communications on the radio and thus render the evidence not sound, and certainly not proof of non-local consciousness. What I am also intrigued about is reiki and what exactly (and I mean exactly) it is. I have been attuned (Level 2) and can under certain conditions bring in invisible energy forces to expedite the meditative process, but what it is I’m tapping into remains (for today at least) a mystery…

You, me, us, we are one…

I am you, you are me.
X, Y, Zee to A, B, Cee.
You, me, us, we are one…

When I first listened to Pop Will Eat Itself (aka PWEI) back in the 90’s, one of my favourite tunes of theirs for no apparent reason at the time was X, Y, Zee. I kind of liked the music and the lyrics were a bit cool and nutty. At the height of my web design days (when I was a lowly paid and under-valued civil servant), I had ideas to create my own web design company. I had quite some experience under my belt and if truth be known quite a bit of flair and talent too. Thinking of a name for the venture, I came up with XYZeee, in part due to the song of the same name, and the fact that on every corporate bullshit bingo card, XYZ always comes up.

Sadly my flair in web design was measured in equal parts by my “unflair” in business acumen and engagement, and my first date with design destiny (a flash-based website for a London comedian) crashed and burned and XYZeee was no more.

Something rather “far out” happened today. I drove my daughter to school as I had to run an errand in the car before work, so my wife got her out of her car seat and escorted her up the hill, as I waited in the car for her to return. To the right of me a beautiful grey and white cat (similar to a snow leopard but thankfully not one) popped out from beneath a fence. Again for no apparent reason I decided to “connect” with the cat. I sat in the driver’s seat and meditated, using my reiki charged mudra to try to get the cat to turn around and look directly at me.

It didn’t. Instead it walked down the pavement alongside a bush which by the look and sound of it had some small birds in. The cat carried on down the pavement stopping every now and again to peer into the bush, but again ignoring my psychic current. As it got to the end of the bush and just before it disappeared out of my line of vision I sent a super charged bolt towards it, and then it stopped dead and turned around and looked directly into my eyes for what seemed to be a lifetime, my Arnold J Rimmer “mesma-stare” in full flow. Whether it was pure coincidence, a glitch in the matrix or an indication that we are all linked who can truly say. All I can say is that whenever I see the cat again I will call him by his new name, Schrödinger.

As it wandered off, it got me thinking about “Year Zero” and the beginning of the Universe (quite deep for a Thursday morning) and the fact that if one believes in the singularity theory and the Big Bang, then “you, me, us, we are one”, or more to the point “you, me, us, were one”. If at some point 13.7 billion years ago we were one, then doesn’t it carry forward that we are all still intrinsically linked to every other thing in the Universe, if not materialistically (matter) then perhaps at the mystical quantum level?

If we are all still intrinsically linked, then maybe we can resonate such invisible Universal energies or communicate at the quantum level in a dimension we cannot yet measure with our existing senses or gadgets.So maybe I did commune with Schrödinger after all.

With the phrase “you, me, us, we are one” reverberating around in my noggin, I decided to dig out my old PWEI playlists and listen to the aforementioned song. Some of the lyrics are very interesting too, they even reference a cat…

I am he who is X, Y and Zee, I carry no card, my life is cheap.
Have no worries, I do not fret, some may have what I’m yet to get.

And you may wonder, “Is it how?” a kitten may turn into a cow.
With bells and horns and tinned corned beef.
Forests, profits, plastic High Streets.

I am he who is A, B and Cee,
An easy option, like twentieth century satisfaction guaranteed.
It’s easy…

Let’s steal a spaceship and head for the sun.
And shoot the stars with a lemonade ray gun.
Make a movie and a TV show.
You be Jane, I’m George Jetson.

I am you, you are me, X, Y, Zee to A, B, Cee.
You, me, us, we are one.

From out our window we can see.
Electric sunshine, oxygen factories.
Clockwork tides, synthetic trees.
Just like the real ones on Vee Tee.

Mother Nature and Father Time, used to be good friends of mine.
But now we’ve put them in a home, filed them under, “Uses unknown”.

“No pop, no style”, is a phrase out of phase.
To praise what’s worthwhile, this is as good as it gets.
This is the best…

Let’s catch the last rays of civilization and tune-in to a sub-space station.
Turn up the DJ, let’s get lost in intergalactic punk-rock, hip-hop.

I am you, you are me, X, Y, Zee to A, B, Cee.
You, me, us, we are one.

This is the time, the time of our lives.
Escaping time for the all-time highs.
Of love, lust, laughter that make us sweat.

Let’s stimulate sensory amplification, this is PWEI-zation.
This is this, it’s the living end: “Je t’aime, encore, je t’aime”.

I am you, you are me X, Y, Zee to A, B, Cee.
You, me, us, we are one…

ADDENDUM:

Imagine my surprise when my daughter came home from school this afternoon with a WWF leaflet alerting her to the cats she can help to save. Imagine my further surprise when she said she would chose to adopt a Snow Leopard…

A whiter shade of pale

We tripped the light fantastic,
Turned cartwheels ‘cross the doors (of perception),
I was feeling kind of far out,
And the mind called out for more…

My spiritual journey has been on the road now for exactly two years this week. I look in the mirror from time to time, the face is still the same (albeit with a few more lines and the levels of monochrome in the facial fur department have increased), but looking beyond the physical manifestation lies an inner self which is, to me at least, almost unrecognisable.

I reviewed my commitment today to both myself and others, a commitment which was a sincere pledge undertaken during those dark times and I’m happy to say that I’m on track. My personal outlook is and will continue to be my priority list. I’m a firm believer that it is our priorities that define who we are and how we are perceived by others, and when these priorities change, the universal order of things becomes chaotic, fragile. Often when one changes priority, it’s most often as a result of the ego kicking in, want and desire taking president over need and reason. My priority list is quite simple really:

  1. The Wife and Children.
  2. My health, well-being and search for enlightenment.
  3. My friends.
  4. Everything else.
  5. Work.

Work really is a distraction to what is important to me, but a necessary evil nonetheless. So when I do have to work away from my number one priority, I try to keep myself distracted, to fend off the pull and energy drain of “The Corporation”. This week saw me climbing over the roof of Millennium Dome on Tuesday with my brother-in-law, and Tuesday marked another milestone in my search for “the source”.

Following on from reshuffling of the priority list deck two years ago (whether that took place on a prioritisation table I’m not certain), I took up yoga, meditation and reiki which really help ground me, the glue to who I am now. At that time, I also saw an opportunity to open my still sceptical mind to alternative ways of thinking, alternative ways of operating, which inevitably led me to the door of my good friend in Eastham.

The catalyst to this change in consciousness was a gig in Chester. We went to see Nick Harper (a personal favourite of ours) but instead of taking up our usual front row seats, decided to stop at the bar and talk. And talk. And talk. Nick played majestically on his “Last Guitar”, as our conversation delved deeper and deeper, from quantum physics to Everetts Many World Interpretation, as Anthony Peake stroked Schrödinger’s Cat in a parallel universe somewhere.

Fascinated by all of this, I drove us both home (stopping to relieve myself on the way due to all the soft drinks) and bid my Peroni pal a fond farewell, with a mission to find out more about this Anthony Peake character. The next day I found that he had quite a few books out and more immediately available was a plethora of podcasts, vodcasts and articles on the web. I duly ordered ITLAD and downloaded most of his audio files. It was quite a departure from the former me, no woo-woo name calling was to come from my lips.

There was one particular podcast which drew my attention, it was his theories relating to the pineal gland. The pineal gland makes/secretes melatonin, the chemical which puts us to sleep each night. Peake posits that there is more to this pine-cone-shaped walnut than meets the (third) eye, in that it has the ability under certain conditions to
self-produce “metatonin”, a DMT-based neurochemical which can put the “secrete-ee” into altered states of consciousness.

One such “under certain conditions” is Lucia No 3, a Lucid Light Machine. This device is comprised of several halogen bulbs placed within what resembles a shower-head; it combines a stroboscope with a constant white light which induces a transcendental experience for the viewer.

So a few weeks back, I sent out a list of potential things to do with my chums in work whilst I was in London this week, including running events, the cinema and a “trip” to Light Eye Mind studio in Finsbury Park. I wasn’t hopeful that anyone would go with me to see Lucia, but was happy when “M” decided she would go with me, the lads stating that they would meet us up after for a spot of tiffin.

Eager to read as much of the remainder of ITLAD that I could before our visit, I managed to cram in a hundred pages on the redeye down to London, both eager and a bit apprehensive about what was to come.

Our journey to Finsbury Park took a while, but we arrived a little early and had to wait a wee while (apt as we were desperate for the toilet) for our hosts for the evening. Talking outside the store, “M” and I swapped our own stories about our own experiences, of spirituality, of alternative therapies and holistics.

We were met by “A”, “N” and “D” from Light Eye Mind, and within minutes it was clear that there were no egos involved here which was great. There was no big sell, all very humble and approachable folks. “A” resembling a young Russell Brand (hope that is taken as a compliment should he ever read this :D) introduced us to both the studio (which was displaying some cool artwork by Danny Wilder) and Lucia No 3. His suggestion of an initial three minute tester was well met by both of us, a sample of a longer session to follow if we felt ok with the machine.

Waiver forms dutifully signed (that we didn’t have epilepsy or deep rooted psychological problems), I stepped up as guinea pig and took to my seat. I decided to bring my own music, my approach was one of deep meditation (if that was possible) so on went my Kundalini Yoga playlist from Spotify, as did Lucia. In bright light with the eyelids closed, I guess we would all see a peachy glow, and before the strobe kicked in, that’s exactly what I saw, but once the strobe kicked in, everything changed. Everything changed. I saw art. My art. My eyelid was the easel, my mind the painter. Even though the tester session was brief, I managed to see / create fractal vistas of magnificent colours, a gallimaufry of spirals and shapes, more colours, more shapes, downwards spirals.

When the light dimmed, I took a deep breath and passed the cans over to “M” who selected some of “A’s” own tunes by a band called Carbon Based Life Forms and assumed the position. The three minutes went fast and she was done. She opened her eyes with the same “wow-look” I’d had and immediately wanted more, to get back to that place she had just been, and so she remained in-seat and took a further fifteen to twenty minute session.

I talked outside to “A” and shared my journey over the last two years with him, and he listened, really listened. It’s so refreshing to talk to folks like him, folks in-tune and attuned to one’s own frequency, not ridiculed or pilloried for looking at things in a different way. I told him I’d been reading a lot of Anthony Peake and studies into consciousness (Piero Scariffi), watched a great many videos regarding DMT and ayahuasca (Rick Strassman) and experienced first-hand universal energy flow via yoga, meditation, reiki (advising that I was now Reiki Level 2), and having listened to podcasts pointing the way to Lucia No 3, I’d decided give it a try and here I was.

When “M’s” session came to an end, “A” went to her to gently wake her as she  remained static. She opened her eyes, there and not there, seemingly having a full on hypnogogic experience, managing to finally reconnect her out of body consciousness with her physical form. We made sure she had settled before I took to the chair, the details of her trip to be shared after my own journey.

As the session was a lot longer, I decided to settle into a seated yoga position, and with mudra fully deployed I relaxed into it. Once again I began to create my own William Neal / Roger Dean prog-rock-album-cover type vistas. Isometric shapes began to form, mandalas created by thin illuminous “Tron-esqe” lines appeared, followed by what can only described as wormholes, deep blues and greens spiralling inwards and outwards. Then I saw a swastika, not the revolting symbol of the Nazism, but the softer ancient Hindu symbol, growing in size from central core before disappearing.

The most profound part was yet to come. I felt myself departing into a middle state, not conscious nor subconscious nor unconscious but somewhere in the middle. I remember being surrounded by a warm glow, with a central elipse of orange light (an eye if you will, or tunnel even), a place of peace, and for the first time I saw (or created) white light, three forms or shapes of white light presented themselves. Initially the three small star-like shapes (reminiscent of looking at a far off light source from underwater) moved and twisted, and then grew to be larger amorphous forms, the one on the left staying significantly smaller than the two on the right. It was then that the full on kundalini experience kicked in. I felt a surge of energy in my spine, emanating out from the base and traversing upwards through each chakra, through each of the seven tattoos on my back and out to the meridians.

Whether I was conscious, hypnogogic, unconscious or in another place altogether, I couldn’t say. Gradually the white forms faded and the whole scene turned a blood red orange and then upon reaching the darkness I came out of my altered state and opened my eyes. The energy did not stop however, it continued whilst I gave “A” and “M” commentary of my experience, as it did all of the way back to Finsbury Park train station.

I asked “M” about her experience on the way back and she said she too had seen swastikas, but associated these to the Second World War, and saw ghostly images (like those on film negatives) of soldiers passing her line of vision one by one.

We both felt quite tired and drained, but nonetheless we made it to the Brazilian restaurant where our work chums waited patiently (albeit with beers in hand), for the inevitable closed-mind ribbing and they did not disappoint. We were both fully prepared for the abuse, and took it all, good natured as it was.

One thing “A” told us was to watch out for our dreams that night, as a lot of people have very strange and vivid visions post-Lucia sessions. When I got in to work the next day, I asked “M” how she felt and did she have any interesting dreams, but sadly her dreams were even crapper than mine. She dreamt that she was in work testing a new IT product, mine was running a 10km race which involved climbing up a hill covered in snow, all rather boring…

ADDENDUM: Always a Cynic     

I got in late last night to a message from a friend of mine who’s into his metal in a big way. A favourite band of his is called Cynic (oh the irony) and he sent me a link to their latest video, them having taken a fork in the road to a more progressive rock style. The video itself was surreal, fractal art central, mandalas everywhere. Coincidence or just another universal synchronicity presenting itself?

ALS(o) have this on my M(i)ND…

And so it came to be that I was eventually nominated to do the ALS / MND Ice Bucket Challenge by a good friend of mine. Without a doubt the cause is just, those folks out there that suffer from this affliction must go through a living hell. Just knowing that once diagnosed, one is subjected not only to a reduced lifespan the average life expectancy following positive diagnosis of a mere 36 months until death, but a daily degradation of physical service whilst the brain and consciousness remains untouched. A prison without walls.

Stephen Hawking is living proof of what MND does to the body and not the brain. He has defied the odds in terms of MND life expectancy and lived to a ripe old age thus far all things considered, and the scientific world is surely glad for that.

Facebook is often pilloried, but I think in this case it has been used globally as a positive tool to raise both awareness and funds for ALS and MND. Every second news feed at the moment is a video of someone taking part in their own “challenge”. It is a bit of fun for those that wish to participate, and also a vehicle for those who do not wish to participate in person, but either chose to donate to ALS / MND or to donate to other charities (for example a friend of mine’s view point was that all the wasted water concerned him, so instead he chose to donate some funds towards Water Aid), which is great too.

Personally, I chose to take part in the Ice Bucket Challenge, albeit with my own slant on it, and I had fun doing it and followed it through with a donation to MND:

http://youtu.be/kU8MIrAg8WI

However (there always seems to be an however with me), there is a part of me which remains sceptical about donations towards research, not just for ALS / MND, but for any body looking at providing cures for world ills. That part of me is concerned that the funds raised are either misappropriated or not channelled into the right places.

Taking ALS / MND as an example, £50m has been raised in one month, fantastic, but where is it going and what is it going to be used for? Will it be handed to Big – Pharma for them to use it as a way to produce a new synthetic chemical to treat the symptoms and not challenge the root cause and make a tidy profit from it all? Will it look deep into the genetics of the disease and look to eradicate it from happening in the future via a post-modern eugenics movement of sorts? Will it look into complementary therapies like yoga, meditation and reiki to see if these alternative self-healing techniques can aid or assist recovery or combat it’s onset?

All of these questions remain unanswered to me at present, but it’s something I’ll look into, but I do hope that the funds do end up in the right place and used in the right way.

This whole issue really got me thinking, and I think that it is no coincidence (I don’t see coincidences anymore – just breadcrumbs) that I started to watch the Channel 4 series Utopia (available in the UK and on Netflix) at exactly the same time as the Ice Bucket Challenge kick off.

In short, the story follows a small group of people who find themselves in possession of the manuscript sequel of a cult graphic novel called “The Utopia Experiments” which is rumoured to have predicted the worst disasters of the last century. This leads them to be targeted by an organisation known as “The Network”, which they must avoid to survive. Using the manuscript, they must uncover the meaning hidden in its pages before the disasters depicted become reality.

Without spoiling it too much for anyone that hasn’t seen it, the fundamental theme relates to the ever increasing world population, how the future demand for planetary resources will exponentially increase and whether via a ‘humane eugenics movement” is something that we could or should put in place to control the population explosion as a way to extend our existience on our little blue dot.

So this is where I get controversial and perhaps hypocritical to my original gambit about ALS and MND. As a human race, we need death. We need death by any means. Should we just treat the symptoms and keep these things around, but make sure that those who have them do not suffer? No matter how you slice it, global population growth at the rate we have seen it over the last 200 years is completely and utterly unsustainable when mapped against projected resource decline. I was frankly amazed by the following statistics relating to world population studies:

  • 35k BC = 3 million
  • 10k BC = 15 million
  • 1400 = 375 million
  • 1804 = 1 billion
  • 1927 = 2 billion  
  • 1959 = 3 billion  
  • 1974 = 4 billion  
  • 1987 = 5 billion  
  • 1999 = 6 billion  
  • 2012 = 7 billion  
  • 2026 = 8 billion  
  • 2042 = 9 billion
  • 2060 = 10 billion

A little over two hundred years ago, there were only one billion homo sapiens on Planet Earth. We have added six billion people to that amount over the last two centuries.

By the year 2060, there will be an estimated ten billion of us on a planet that is very quickly running out of natural resources. So what are we doing about it?. Rather than looking into the mid-term future and concentrating our research efforts into safe, renewable and sustainable energy sources, instead we invent new ways of raping the geological stratas underneath the Earth’s surface as a way to satisfy our immediate need for energy, much to the detriment of the climate and our precious water table.

All this is to satisfy future demand they say as renewable energies cannot satisfy the supply versus demand curve. Those who will be able to afford energy in the future will be able to pay for it, but with advances in automation and an ever increasing demand for energy (from the needs of a ballooning population), those that cannot will be pushed even further away from the “haves” causing an inevitable future class war of epidemic proportions. It seems that our train is heading towards George Orwell’s vision as laid out in 1984, or Kurt Wimmer’s dystopian world as seen in the film Equilibrium, and the brake cables have been severed.

Of my home town during the Toxteth Riots of 1980, Margaret Thatcher (the then Prime Minister in the UK) said that Liverpool as a city was expendable, and that it should be placed under managed decline until (I guess) it either ceased to exist or it became manageable (a truly awful statement said about one of the most historic cities the world has ever known (not always for the right reasons)).

So for me, the Utopia series really does address and ask us a key question of the future, albeit through shocking graphics and a very disturbing storyline. Should we be managing our own decline globally? Should we put in place a humane eugenics movement for the greater good of our offspring to try and kerb global population booms in an effort to avoid wars and the continuing fight for natural resources (in the likes of Iraq) and inevitable plunge into dystopia?

Would it be our place to put in place such a drastic action (taking over the role of the Creator if such a thing exists), and has evolution turned such amazing potential into nothing more than a collective marauding beast which will stop at nothing including it’s own inevitable destruction?

Or do we say fuck it, let’s live the dream whilst we can, because tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999?

My belief is that the inevitable catastrophic decline will happen (via a global war), and that at some point, mankind (if indeed it still exists post-apocalypse, albeit in significantly smaller numbers) will rightfully have no alternative but to turn our future way of life into resource based economies as detailed by The Venus Project, as the value of currency will quite literally not be worth the paper it is printed on.

Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could change the paradigm into The Venus Project today. I’d move there tomorrow (I mean today)…

Where will it all end…

There is of late, a tidal wave of negativity all over the world, not one place excluded it seems. With so much turmoil going on, some of it so extreme one cannot read in-depth reports, global reality as we know it seems to be dystopic to say the least.

I have just read an article on the Ferguson Protests in the U.S, and in that particular instance, it’s not about race or colour, it’s an out and out class war. It is a perpetual conflict between the haves and have nots, governed and enforced by a totalitarian state (both government and police) that erodes the basic rights of the people (education, welfare, health and importantly positivity) until such times that the people either turn to crime or turn on each other, which gives the state an excuse to wade in all guns blazing as a show of force to let everyone know who is in charge, as is the case here.

It’s times like these (re: Ferguson) that additions to Homeland Security bills are passed, further eroding the rights of the citizens until such time as a populace is under complete and utter control, and dystopia is fully realised (akin to Orwell’s 1984).

The US is not the land of the free, and it will take an unprecedented change (or revolution) to overturn the mess.

That is one example of the “State of the Union”, but there are countless others out there, sadly too many to recount here. Whilst I am keen to stay positive in my own reality, in my own personal space and share those feelings with those who are around me, it’s difficult no to become entangled with the problems we face as a collective.

Thinking about the self (if such a thing actually exists), all “I” can do to help is to pass on positive vibes (through distance reiki) to all of those suffering at present, make donations to causes where it is clear my money will land in the correct place and that money will improve the situations of others, sign petitions where it is clear that parliaments and government have to take note and are tasked with follow on actions, and ultimately vote (or not vote as the case may be next year) for a party/collective that represents my views, my vision of what is impotant, not a vision for me and mine, but for all of us, the collective consciousness.

Peace…