09/09/09 Ritual Day Review (Pt. I)

May this dawn bring a great union upon us. Let the current overflow its banks in a raging torrent and carve the path to a greater existence. Be hardy and steadfast in your efforts and maintain the strength to endure this journey. Travel well and with clear sight. The 999 surrounds us. The 999 sustains us. The 999 is us.

–Brother 4o4

Well, seven hours and twenty-five pages of notes later, I have worked through the seven major points laid out yesterday in my intended plan for today as a ritual day, and to be honest I’m a mixture of pleased, exhausted, and confused.  Some endeavors seem to have produced rather successful results, whereas others still remain obscured.  Perhaps things will become clear in the coming days.  Since the material I wish to go over is a mixture of open-to-the-public material and Initiates-only material, I will break this post in two: the publicly visible portion, and the hidden portion.  Part II will obviously be the password protected portion.

I began my day with a short fifteen-minute stint of meditation and pranayama, to get the juices flowing.  I made myself a sturdy breakfast to work from, and then went back to the pillow and continued meditating for another forty-five minutes or so.

I progressed next to the preliminary overview of the Heavy Current to this point, which revealed that I did not have a full set of notes on the Goa Trip trial and what occurred there.  So, during the review-overview section of today I spent about 45 minutes recording in minute detail the goings on of that oh-so fateful night/morning.  I also collected and organized all other notes pertaining to the Current and put them (at least in short form) in a hard copy.

After this I got back on my pillow and did an alternating vipassana and samatha/zazen meditation session, going for about five to ten minutes on one before swtiching to the other and then back again.  I followed this up with yet-more pranayama. I then Aum’d to even-clear-light levels.

When I felt satisfied with my calmness, I progressed on to the invocation of my Holy Guardian Angel (Augoeides) or HGA.  I took a ritual bath, Auming all the way, and then dressed in my regalia.  I banished with a typical banishing, and then sat and did some meditation to prepare myself for performing the Liber Samekh Ritual for the first time in over a year.  I then proceeded into the ritual, intoning the proper names, and reading the liturgy in my body of light.  Upon completing the ritual, I sat down and meditated, waiting to see if anything came to the surface.

Of the things that did, two seem worth mentioning here.  I had a vision of the classic two interlocking pyramids–male pyramid red, female pyramid blue.  The other vision worth mention here is that of a constellation I cannot name, but which is made up on nine stars and looks vaguely like a two.

I took a break here, and then went back at it again, meditating before jumping into the next point on my list.  One pathworking seemed a successful formulation, the other was incomplete though some new vistas seemed opened.

I then performed the Invocation and Evocation of the Tesseract, and applied it to the Chronotome.  This seems to have gone quite well.  I meditated again, and then went into the power day divinations, which were confusing and bewildering, while also hopeful and illuminating at (some) times.

I concluded the days work with visionary endeavor that involved the use of the Dragon’s Breath technique, which was mildly successful and ultimately relaxing.  I am, however, rather drained.  I haven’t done a marathon like this in quite a while.

For those of you who wish to be privy to Part II, contact me with an email address.  Part II will take much more time to write up than this one did, and may in fact have to wait until tomorrow.

Happy 09/09/09

Chronostrangeness and the Potential for Causal Perturbation of a Local Linear Timestream

Something has changed.  I’m sharper than usual, but  mixed with a dreamy disconnection and moments of shear displacement.  Time is moving and warping in unpredictable  ways.  Something I published at the end of last month somehow fell through an information loop and ended up publishing a month earlier. The clock on my phone loses minutes by the day while the clock on my computer jumps moments to and fro every day and resets itself every night.  My watch is so long-lost that the buttons will not even correct its frozen hours.  The days hit warping and antiwarping cycles.  Some moments stand long while other curl into themselves and all but disappear. In taking in more contour I seem to be losing some aspect of a linear locality.

Should I be worried?  I must wonder what genius is working here.

The Technician’s Invocation for the Affixment of Nonoriginal, Sui Generis Created Consciousnesses

VI’IZIAIGO AH-OHH!

VIEZIAAGAO EE-OUAHOH!

YV’EEZHIPAR KHA-EROH!

ARRAT!  ARRATA!

GHAR-ARIH-EEV’PAR-ATTA!

GHOU-TARO-ERO’ZH-MARA!

EE-AINOU!

ARO-AHO-IHO-VIZIGA’AO!

–the blades of light cut through the air and the angels sang, oh, the angels sang, for hours in the splitting folding collapsing pocket of eternity in the calling itself–

–his eyes clinked open–

–he felt cold–

The room snapped back into focus and the angelic light no longered covered the cieling tiles, or slightly dusty walls.  there was a glare, off some dark glass in a pane on the wall.  There was a halo of light, and a figure obscured by shadow all but for his white gloved hands.

And his Instrument.

–[as-if-recalled]  those first few hours, those first few crashing pockets of eternities that mish-mash together in the cauling of a consciousness itself…are so important for beings that do not physiologically grow…if they were to have the power of speech, their wailing could tear a hole; you must let it gestate in silence.  Those first few  hours must be whole…[/as-if-recalled]–

The Instrument jumps with blue-purple electricity.  The scene goes dark, as the eyes begin to glow.

He sits up, and swings his grey and blue legs over the edge of the insulated metal table.  He reaches out and  accidentally knocks over a table of beekers.  He looks at his hands.  The man in the shadows, he can see from the silouette and the gloved hands, is not like him.  There is something…softer…in the gloved set of hands.

Something that glowed beneath the latex and the fabric…

The Instrument jumped and cracked like a a semiautomatic tattoo gun.

–Darkness again…–