"Standing Ground" – September 10, 2005

2005-9-10

It is during this time that one of the beings I have invited to the Academy chooses to challenge me, triggering an olde wound in my sense of power. It is an extremely difficult experience for me, where I wrestle with fear of not being strong enough to protect myself or others in the space and feeling as though I have to engage lethal force to establish my position.

It is a sinking feeling in my solar plexus, in which I become infuriated by the fear and inner question going on within my self.

It is disquieting, yet it is a challenge, and I rise to face it, and begin to train more ardently, setting the intention to beat the challenger to death.

What should be understood by my Readers is that in the realm I lived, the ideas of human law and of “civilization” did not even occur. I was in a place of primal assertion and response, where a challenge was a challenge to the literal death.

Shadow Boxing

Challenges in the Snow

It is a sinking feeling in my solar plexus, in which I become infuriated by the fear and inner question going on within my self.

It is disquieting, yet it is a challenge, and I rise to face it, and begin to train more ardently, setting the intention to beat the challenger to death.

Yet I was not like that. After years of feeling pressed upon by the endless screaming of the human condition, any threat to the sanctity and sanctuary that I felt I had attained was a direct challenge to my territory. One which I intended to face with fierce defense.

I have a huge vision as this happens. Of the play between lifetimes, the conquering and the defeat that flips back and forth from body to body. In the vision, i see how grievances move from one lifetime to another, where in one lifetime one is victorious over another in some conflict, and then in another lifetime it reverses. In this I see the futility of the fight, how it only perpetuates the same energy, and long for a release from it. For a dissolution that will remove this from my field.

I knew my talent for healing could be used both ways. That the very sensitivity and ability to interact with the subtle fields which lay within the body could be used for destruction. While a part of me strove to stay away from such thoughts, the idea of surrendering to what I considered an invading attack inspired a decision to do that very thing, to beat the offending magician to death with my bare hands.

Everything came down to this for me. To the ways I felt attacked and assaulted by the constant assault of vibrations that was the human plane, the constant attempts to conquer my territories and deny me a place of safety became embodied in this one person, this one conflict. I felt myself steel for battle, mustering my strength to do what was necessary to stop the filth once and for all.

It was a variation on the classic concept of shadow boxing, a ritual invocation that opened a portal into the depths of the mind and it's rules of engagement.

For I realized, it is not so much about the timbre of technique, but the willingness to kill. Because I had allowed so much disrespect to my being over the years and was desperate to make it stop, I went into my mind, into the deep recesses where such moralities existed, and made a decision to do what was necessary to protect myself and those I loved from their assault. With this in mind, I plotted my response, preparing myself to defend my space in the language of life and death.

Yet something happened which changed my conviction. A vision, piercing the veil of space and time, showing myself and this fellow magician engaged in a cycle of combat and resolution, of dominance and submission flickering between lifetimes and sets of conditions. It was an endless thing. A seesaw repetition.