Heres # 8 Keep in mind that I had to carve these understandings out of the dark. It will be easier on all because of the greater light that has been shed. Also, its harder for teachers then students - just FYI. The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing Journey 8 The eighth journey was occasioned in the hills surrounding Scotts Valley. It was conducted indoors at a dose of about 7 grams or 14 medium sized mushrooms. The year was 1998 and I was then starting a friendship with a man who claimed to be raised Native. He went by the name of Thunder Horse and called himself a Shaman. He arrived in Santa Cruz with several Native American Indians to speak about government abuses taking place on a reservation called Big Mountain. Given the circumstances I figured this man would have to be the real thing – thou he himself wasn’t Native American. I had been on the Sacrament path for several years but I had never shaken the social concept that I should have someone older and wiser acting as a guide in my spiritual life. In short I wanted to believe in this man, even when he told me that African Americans were the original Native Americans – an Anthropology degree was helpful here;.) This meeting was over a meal together, and as he explained the Natives had lost their pure black skin by white man’s interbreeding I just listened. He pulled out pictures of African Americans leading White settlers into the New World and I was left wondering if this couldn’t be true. Such is the power of the mind when one wants to believe in something or someone – even when it’s obviously not true. The journey began as many journeys do seated on the floor, legs crossed wading through the river of Fight & Flight. Soon however I got the creeping suspicion that something was watching me. Raising my head I saw a fox-like shape pull back from the open door and vanish. I had been nearly two hours since I last looked up! That critter in the door was a real scare! I stood up, a thing I was much better at since my first journey. It seems we start as little children, hardly able to walk or talk, full of fears and sometimes not making much sense to an onlooker, but then little by little we grow up in the Spirit. The Biblical passage of the Nazarite fits here: “Except you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven” down here. For the Saint’s go marching in and are known by their love, not love from 1 – 10 but a love from 1-100; love is not all. Hence it is said that one Israelite could chase 10 philistines. More time passed and I found myself contemplation the wonder that is the clock. The house in which I was staying had an antique wall clock that sounded off the passage of minutes & hours. Again the sense of something out there in the dark came over me. I felt like it was watching, perhaps stalking me. About this time a vision appeared of this man named Thunder Horse, it was he who was stalking me and with a knife… I saw his intention was to harm even kill me and to take what was mine from me. A shiver ran across my skins surface and a shot of pain ached in my back. In another vision I saw that there was a black feathered arrow stuck in me. The Spirit told me it was the lie that I had believed about the African Americans being the true natives of America. As I sought to draw it out I saw the manuscript given to me by this would be Shaman sitting on the floor. Picking it up I opened it and read: “My name is James Anderson, I am an African American who was raised by Native Americans…” Their was a zapping sensation as it came together that this man was a liar whose lie had just caught up with him. It became clear that this was no Native Shaman but a drummed up con-man. That same night – it was a rough one- I lay on my bed trying to sleep but caught between two rival visions. One was of my sweet heart and each time it started the marriage song “here comes the bride” started. This one would go along for a few minutes and my inner world would appear bright and happy. Then a childhood friend would appear in my vision and the tune would change to the “Death Dirge” of “Poor Johnny’s dead a candle lights his head…” I lay witnessing these two opposite themes for well over an hour. Finally I rose from the bed and stepped out into the darkened living room. The moon had gone down and all was as the blackest night. Sitting cross legged on the couch I contemplated the meaning of the two visions. Were they not like the Bibles recording of Pharaoh’s dream warning him of seven years of plenty to be followed by seven years of famine? As I pondered the meaning behind these visions I remember a dream I had had several weeks earlier. It was regarding this childhood friend of mine. In the dream I was on the bus and as I walked past my friend - with true sadness I said to him that our friendship was over. In another dream friends of his were threatening to beat me up for having walked away from the friendship. It was clear that I was ready to end this childhood friendship but was fearful of the consequences. The vision was showing me that the happy marriage to my high school sweet heart was being directly threatened by the childhood friend. I was aware that my friend had a crush on my girlfriend and that somewhere in his heart he felt she was meant for him (darn that jonesy spirit (if your name is Jones please understand I’m not speaking about you but about a craven spirit or energy) – it makes such a wrecking ball!). Yet I had been unwilling to end the long term friendship. Now I saw that I had only two choices end the friendship or very possible loose this would be love of my life. Later that week while in the Spirit at about 2 grams (I find clothing oneself with the grace of Christ is a powerful aid in times of trouble), I explained to my friend that our friendship needed to come to an end. At first he rejected the idea but as I explained that I was seeking people willing to lay down their lives to know and serve the Maker he admitted that that was not for him and it was done. Two years later my wife and I were married and while the World came in and we are now divorced – I do not regret what good things God provided us in the interim. Life is a journey… The dawn came finding me seated in the living room. I remember the first sign that the long night was over was the sound of ducks making their sightless journey through the still dark sky. They kept track of each other by the sound of their quacking! This was revealing for me because in ancient Egypt the duck is often depicted on the walls and ceiling of the middle kingdoms noble’s tombs. In fact it is very often displayed in conjunction with the Psilocybin mushrooms in that culture. After that night it was clear why... The first sign that the Psilocybin journeyer is returning to day to day consciousness is the sound of these birds sightlessly flying through the predawn sky. Attached is an Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyph of the Bee-Plant (honey plant) next to a duck and the sun - Duck Dynasty? I shall have to check them out.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 21:23:56 +0000
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