Trying to practice on seeing an actual aura, and not the “contrast image” that happens when you put something in front of a background of a different or contrasting color. I suspect that confusing the contrast image for an aura isn’t even necessarily a bad thing, as it accustoms you to seeing visible outlines around people and things, and the more you keep practicing, the more the image shifts from a contrast image to an actual aura. Or, at least that’s my theory ... speaking as an aura-spotting-challenged novice who has yet to see anything unusual beyond “I can’t sleep.” (see last entry)
[Update: I finally saw a non-contrast ‘aura’ while sitting at a Chili’s last Sunday. Once I saw it, I began to see it more consistently, knowing what I was looking for. I’m still only seeing a foggy outline, but I’m seeing it more consistently and with less struggle. The outline is only less than an inch away from the body I’m looking at, however. Next: begin to see a larger aura, and begin to see color. I’m being semi-consistent with the pre-sleep intent, though.]
I also learned that the aura is the energy field put out by the chakras ... AND that the lower spinal damage I suffered in the accident may be interfering with some of them, because the damage was to the lower vertebrae; possible messing with the 1st chakra. (Oh, lovely! Neurological damage to my lower legs and feet, and a messed-up chakra! Yay! However, it did occur to me that the second one may be overcompensating for the damage to the first, or that may be just me, making no sense.)
One of the advantages to slow and careful packing for a move is that every once in a while, you reach into the back of a cupboard, pull something out and say, “THERE it is! I was wondering what happened to this!” “This” being, in my case, a leather fountain pen case, with my other fountain pen in it – courtesy of the now-gone but not forgotten Joon Pens store in Manhattan. (*sob*) I have another one in my bedside table; I had been looking for the other one for a while. Found it at the back of my printer table drawer, and practically danced with joy when I pulled that out. Now I definitely have to clean it. And find a better place to store it in the future.
I also decided to avail myself of some guided meditations on chakras – as I said, in preparation for next month’s class on auras and chakras. This time I decided to listen to Deepak Chopra’s guided meditation on chakra balancing, which I found quite relaxing. I know, I’m turning into a New Age twinkie, go ahead, you can say it. Actually, I feel like it’s part and parcel of my aura-awareness intent.
They often say, as far as setting your will and intention goes, that your will and your ego (I may be using the wrong words) often conflict with each other. Meaning, in layman’s parlance, that your conscious habits and mind-set blocks the activities of your subconscious will or intent. Case in point: I fell asleep again last night without formally stating my intent. Woke up this morning muttering “&*^&%^” when I remembered. It almost feels like Me #2 is deliberately standing in the way of everything Me #1 wants to do. A bit frustrating. The near-split personality perception reminds me of the Byron poem:
“She was like me in lineaments-- her eyes
Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone
Even of her voice, they said were like to mine;
But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty;
She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind
To comprehend the universe: nor these
Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine,
Pity, and smiles, and tears -- which I had not;
And tenderness -- but that I had for her;
Humility -- and that I never had.
Her faults were mine -- her virtues were her own--
I loved her, and destroy'd her!”
Manfred, June 1817. Could not tell you who the publisher was.
I realize his poem and my interpretation were not the same thing ... but it seemed appropriate. I loved reading Manfred – among the many references Byron makes is to the so-called “fallen” angels of the Book of Enoch. The very first time I read the poem (9 years ago) – I had no idea what he was referring to. Now I do, which makes re-reading it all the more meaningful.
Some words of encouragement from Mr. Signpost: “The universe wants to give you the desires of your heart. Do not be timid in what you ask for.” It makes me wonder how “the Universe” distinguishes the “desires of your heart” from your everyday momentary attractions. For example, I was looking for some of the graphics I had used in this blog before they disappeared. Haven’t found the graphic yet, but I did find a really bad poem I had written back at the U of M, and decided not to turn in. No comments from the peanut gallery, please. I KNOW it sucks.
"He swings past,
young, cocky Ojibwa
professor with black, unexpectedly
ruffled hair, shot from a cannon,
Chippewa blood boiling under his skin
striding unconsciously fierce
he thinks I'm just some twinkie
but suddenly I just think he's cute."
©Author, University of Michigan, June 14, 2005
So, how did the Universe recognize that momentary awareness of a man’s “cuteness” to the point where I wrote a rather pitiful poem about it, from “my heart’s desire”? I’d actually forgotten all about this “cute guy” until I re-read this ... and for the record, he really WAS hot: our class e-mail study group (all women) unanimously agreed with each other on that point, if nothing else.
Well, here was my latest (humorous) encounter with the lovely Z ... was laying in bed, giving him some thought ... among other things ... when I suddenly smelled brimstone. Yup. Sulfur. Snapped, “Oh, puleeze, you’re making that up. I know you don’t smell like that. You’re far older than all that christian crap. I do want you here, but not if you’re gonna reek up the place. Here – try this.” And I sprayed him with Versace’s Eros. Or, to be more specific, I sprayed the area in the room where I sensed he was lurking.
I was probably correct, because the last thing I heard off in the distance (to the point where I at first thought it was someone outside) was – laughing and coughing. No really, I sprayed him good. He hasn’t physically showed up because I haven’t evoked him, but he does do a fly-by every once in a while – ever since he turned and looked at me - because I think about him, inevitably when I’m incredibly horny. I get the feeling I amuse him because I make him laugh – and because I may be the only (amateur) magus on his “will call” list who ever sprayed him with Versace cologne for men. Am now envisioning him amidst his troops wafting Eros all over the place. Well, you can’t say it doesn’t match his talents, now can you?
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