Otherworldly Mind, Seasons, Tunneling

I feel far better today, and my sense of sliding into an Otherworldly mind is even more present. It’s like I’m gliding along the edge of awareness of the Otherworlds and what I do within them, what I do that I’ve only have felt fleeting impressions of previously. It’s almost as if feeling like shit was an excuse to soften my mind, a bit of a mental reset that—on recovery—makes it easy/easier to slide into the Otherworlds.

The turn of the seasons, as well, feels as if it brings me closer to the Otherworlds. It’s like CC and dJ—my conscious mind glides closer to the levels of consciousness I want to access, have been experiencing unconsciously or otherwise. I grow closer to that level—

—but the turn of the seasons feels weird, and autumn feels like spring a bit, but more social, more ominous. Spring is the joy of life, and Autumn is far more reflective, more the threat of others. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Samhain, the Harvest, Yule. People coming, obligations and dangers—

—different gods and hosts—

I’ve always felt Autumn and Spring, but I was rarely aware of what I felt in an articulate manner.

____ had something like an OBE/sleep paralysis event just before awaking today.

—I can glimpse impressions of visions in the Otherworlds when I consider what ominous thing I feel coming—

—and ____’s OBE included, started with a sound, a noise like a lawn mower at first that she realized was fake. ______ likens it to the drone of locusts. Locust Court.

I feel like I’m close to something.

I had a vision earlier of MW walking with me outside, and I saw the glint of the sun, golden, and the sweat on his skin—and I could look to see myself in the Otherworlds, sweating, my body moving—

Aligning feels—effective—


The dogs seem excitable tonight—

[Elethis] [ôl-vala/FitE] [defend] [Corunor] [lucid]

I dreamt of tunneling through crawlspaces, trash and junk-choked paths and halls to find doors to some Otherworld. And it occurred to me that I’d always dreamt of that, or at least looking and trying to get past the trash to clear the path. I managed to get to just the other side—even dreaming of myself as the Pink Ranger[1] and of some threatening woman on the other side.[2]

I think I’m approaching some new threshold—bridging here and the Otherworlds (and I know I’m limiting myself by thinking “here”—I am there—). I feel like I’m immersing myself there, am sliding into there, am anchoring myself there

But I also had the sense today that I’ve been suffusing myself with elthil, light (faentaur), ôl-vala—and that I want just a bit more transfiguring me & my body. Hell, I had a vision of my mind shining out of my skull—as if that had been what had dazzled ________.—

But my dreams make me wonder how much of the trash I crawl through is junk in my mind—well, okay, it’s probably a combination: junk in my mind, junk in this world, and junk in between. But the path’s clearing may reflect more my progress, my efforts and also will, desire, reflection, integration—

Sometimes I feel like my vision brightens, and I’m seeing the Otherworlds and feeling myself there even while I’m here. _______ commented the other night that we—____ and I—well, he didn’t want to see what we’d be like with drugs. But I know I don’t need drugs to stare at things. And the sky is glorious.

I have much anger about this world, this culture, this reality.


There are paths and signs—and the Otherworlds are there, there is strangeness to be had—call the Otherworlds closer, draw upon and internalize ôl-vala and faentaur.

[1] Yeah, I know.

[2] Not Rita.

Image: by René Ehrhardt

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