What a Relief!!

Finally! Integral has made an official statement on all this. Why they waited so long is a dark area that my body wants to project all sorts of crap into - but today I'm gonna pass on that! Woo-hoo!

Would someone please use me as a guinea pig? I've put out to the Facebook Universe that I need the next two sets of Holosync and can't afford them on my own and I seem to be stuck in a kind of Bardo without them. Maybe if I'm part of a scientifical experiment I can get them and also be of some use to someone. Right now I feel pretty useless because of all the crap it has allowed out and I'm unable to integrate fast enough.

Bill seems like a completely different person in this vid. He is not as "on" as he usually is. In other words, the salesman is turned WAY down so that you can hear the man. So much more believable and appealing!

I saw something pretty freaky in myself this week that watching this vid really helped me integrate. When I saw it in Bill, I had to cry because I finally saw myself. What a relief!!

Here's the Wikipedia article on a "Cargo Cult". I had never heard of it, but I was reading some articles on Magical Thinking and it was listed. I had to click. OY! I was shocked at what I read. So shocked that at first I didn't believe that it was possible for me to see things in that way. Even my most primitive self wasn't that stupid. But after reflecting for a minute (actually less!) I realized that, yes, I too was "that stupid". A part of me. A part that I had pushed away long ago.

Something unacceptable happened and I split someone off who couldn't handle that while the rest of me bulletted through the higher developmental lines as fast as possible so as to get away from the whole mess.

And that split off self was left behind on one of those runways asking, "Why did [they] wind up with all the cargo?" like in the book "Guns, Germs and Steel" by Jared Diamond. All around me, other people seemed to get through life experiences without all the horror that I had and they had confidence and even tho they fought with their Parents, they still somehow felt protected by them. How did they get that stuff? And I set about building behaviors out of coconuts and straw, hoping that the gods would let me have some of the goods. I would set the behaviors out in front of the people who were apparently the mediators of such things and I would wait. Wait for the sky to drop what everyone else seemed to have plenty of but by some mistake  didn't get.

I can see myself setting out coconut radios and wearing painted insignias and showing them to people I think are somehow in cohoots with the gods. I can see it while I'm doing it! GOD! And I saw Bill do it. His radios and uniforms are better than mine. And his really work. But he's showing them to people the same way I do - compulsively. Unconsciously. I can see it. And then I knew that something happened to Bill. Something happened that made him get good at selling stuff - or at least compulsive about it. And I cried.

And then I saw that talking about such things is the last way people will see. Talking only alerts the defense squad in the Left Brain. Genpo Roshi is uniquely gifted in not alerting the defense squad.

I totally understood the whole sequence about the Koans. (<-- see, I'm doing it! -->) and was finishing many of his sentences. Why? I don't know. I really don't know. I do know that I've been able to achieve a state change in Magic so that I could draw a recognizable face with a believable expression 3 separate times - which I could never do normally. And so I wonder about Ken's skepticism about the concert pianist bit. I'm not really so sure that one couldn't acquire a state and then learn piano in an afternoon whereas normally it would have taken 3/5 of forever. I think this is what they call siddhis. And I think its possible. It's just pattern recognition. And Lord knows Ken's freak abilities didn't have everything to do with learning like normal people do. He just sees stuff. Stuff that, for normal people, "isn't there".

And finally, I understood completely about the unbearable sorrow. Trauma survivors know this on many levels. The Great Unbearable is much closer to the surface, methinks, for some of us than for others. In my efforts to expand beyond my Trauma, I think I may have mistakenly expanded into a corner of Infinite Trauma. I've tried to talk about it to people and ended up drawing the most intense and monstrous flaming I've ever seen in an online community. It truly is not bearable unless you've acquired what Bill had acquired: Infinite Space to hold it. Meanwhile people keep doing the hurtful things, endlessly and with complete indifference. Or what's probably more accurate: complete unconsciousness. For Trauma survivors, the line between the two doesn't exist, and so all is a living Hell.

I remember talking with a young man who saw things that "weren't there". People. A girl, in particular. A sweet, young Indian girl who followed him everywhere. The effort he had to expend pretending she wasn't there so as to appear normal was exhausting. Its like that.

I'm glad Bill could hold that and live to tell the story because now I feel vindicated. A totally primitive need, I agree, but that's where the Trauma lives.

Meanwhile, I'm watching all this. Watching. Watching myself go primitive and flashing red and purple and even beige. Watching. Watching.