nice to be meeting myself

For 15 minutes I was living in two worlds at once.

Or at least two moments in the same space separated by 13 years or so. It was the same white electric stove, the same old buzzing fridge, and the same worn spanish tiles (though perhaps a bit more worn than last time). This was the house where my mind and soul met and shook hands. Where Crowley, and Leary, and McKenna, and Bob Wilson all took hold of me amidst an endless whirling of psychedelics and empathogens.

For some time we had a tent set up in the living room, hung with christmas lights, for safety meetings and ecstacy huddles. On a couch 5 friends and I sustained 20 minutes of telepathy listening to "Blues for the Rainforest" in the dark, our pineal glands awash in the hyperdimensional electricity of ayahuasca. One night my nervous system and organs exploded right out the top of my skull, eyes bulging with lighting bolts shooting from my brain. It was sudden and existentially shocking, but really alright too. In that moment, my fingers clutching at the living room carpet, the voice of the mushroom spoke to me briefly, directly, and intentionally, like it was hanging on the air just behind my ear.

These thoughts played across the screen of my perception, transparent and overlaid like a film strip on the walls of the B40 house now packed thick with humans talking and drinking, bumping and bouncing, stuffed into the living room and packed around the band percolating in the corner. Probably the best rager ever thrown here. The house has been more or less in the same hands for 15 years, moving from friend to friend of a friend. Those who've lived and loved within it's walls have always been able to return. Being there tonight reinforced the bond just a little bit deeper. Indeed, the For Sale sign on the front drive has been duly dismantled and hurled into the adjacent eucalyptus grove.

Dwellings are vessels. They absorb and contain the energy of the living held between their walls. I always smudge when I move into a new location, just to clear it out some. The B40 house was swollen tonight with the honey of the years, glowing and amber among the faces new & old. Most of the people there I didn't even know, but I was glad they were picking up the vibe and amplifying it a bit higher.

Glancing at faces, peering into eyes, it strikes me that each person is a piece of myself, forgotten and lost, looking back at me and seeking the point of overlap, of timeless contact. Old friends feel warm and close, like part of our bodies are shared, astrally familiar. Others are new and different, forgotten awaiting memory and a recollection of unity. We all marinate together in the magick and spirit uniquely crafted in this home and painted on the walls in ultraviolet and invisible ink. Heiroglyphs of experience cover every surface, like that 5am morning when electric acid patterns crawled across the walls and couches and carpets and faces, thick and rich and perfectly real.

I imagine this place as a pulsing red bead on the web of energetic manifestation. Human electrons streaming in and out, energy states shifting and jumping. A node in the matrix, as it were, yet plainly alive and organic - more like a neuron than a terminal. A moment of spacetime echoing forward and backwards through the continuum, like a stone dropped into a calm pond. Waves radiate outward from it's locus. Those waves have helped carry me to the exact spot I'm at right now, and will likely power my passage further on through the night, under sun and moon, day in and day out, across the seas of time until the porous ship is too laden with experience and memory to hold against the tugging waters. When my drop becomes the pool once again, these thoughts and memories will dissolve like sugar and sweeten the oceans of consciousness.

Maybe if chance has it so, such power spots are truly eternal and the next wave of residents, realtors, and developers will find themselves smiling more often, prone to curious inquisition, and unable to resist the tug of music in the interstices of imagination.

Posted by LVX23 at March 20, 2005 03:14 AM