Aborted Travels, Earthbound Dreams



For reasons not fully known, I became interested in the past few days with the notion of astral traveling in the sense of outright out-of-body transportation like I experienced spontaneously when I was about 18 or 19, and like I experienced more profoundly during the stream entry event August 8, 2014. I was motivated by a vague feeling that the texts are not telling the full truth about my current practices, that I am missing a piece of information that I may need. Even so, as I prepared to experiment with astral travel, I felt this undertow of lazy disregard for doing much effortful work merely to fly.

Here in this post I’ll document what unfolded, although I’m redacting parts about my current formal practice, which is documented in a journal that remains private for now.

Powers-y Fun Back in the Dharma Underground Days

In contrast to my current, demotivating No Problem-ness, as DreamWalker calls it, back in the old Dharma Underground days, in our intimate little exclusive tree fort secreted below the Overground, we used to have the most fun experimenting and dreaming of the days when our “arahatship” would be “done” and our siddhis would stabilize. 

From my voluminous private correspondence with Daniel Ingram, moreover, it was evident to me that he was more excited over western magick, and any evidence of its results, than he was in furthering his own awakening, which he publicly states has “gone as far as awakening can go.” (Despite his public stance, in October 2015 he messaged me on Skype indication that he had privately and thousands of times taken Bodhisattva vows and didn’t know how to finish the work toward full enlightenment, meaning buddhahood.) I never believed in magick before I met Daniel. He was “out” about his interest in it and at least some of his results from it. That made it okay and even interesting for me to follow him into a magickal view of reality. Truly, the influence Daniel Ingram had on me in just one year was intense and life-altering.

After I experienced the Mahamudra awakening of July 29, 2015 (equal to MCTB Revised Fourth Path), I found, by contrast, that the prospect of siddhis motivated me enough to act with pointed intention only rarely, during intense flares of some oddly emergent A&P stage, which is the only cyclical insight stage I notice anymore. I’ve had some amazing psychic stuff open for me in the past, but, oddly, never from my worked up intent – only by accident, as documented in my blue Dharma by Dark Night journal, which, by the way, is my favorite journal, which I’ve been adding to over the past two weeks steadily.

Well, all powers were accidental unless my resolving hard for 3 months to attain nirodha samāpatti and then attaining it counts as successful intent.

The past 24 hours has shown that this pattern of accidental-only powers hasn’t changed. The post-awakening exceptions to this are some incubated dream experiences, some lucid dream-visions, and a new ability I seem to have to directly know other people’s minds and emotions (a power that turns on automatically, especially when someone is lying to me).

My current formal practice may be thought of as siddhi-related, although what is required seems almost anti-intent on my part.

I think that the lesson here regarding feats like astral traveling is that I’m simply not to pursue power on a separate track, as something that is “mine.” My path departs from Daniel’s specifically in this respect, among several others: I’m serious about cultivating conditions for buddhahood and what it requires or entails regarding surrender to the whole. I must leave everything alone and allow this awakening to proceed to buddhahood naturally. I return to resting into what naturally unfolds when I come home from work and have time and natural inclination to practice.

A Highlight from Last Night’s Practice

My first sit last night was in an Epsom salt bath, as usual, which I know sounds like a strange way to practice, but it has worked best for me over the past 6 months, and every night I’m called to it. I was preparing to draw my practice to a close when I thought about an astral travel video Kurt and I had watched the night before.

Now, pertinent here is that for a few weeks now I’ve been helping this young man I know, one of my son’s lifelong friends who grew up in our neighborhood, addressing some medical issues that no one seems to be helping him with. This guy is a follower of Steven Greer, the UFOlogist, and a follower of many other conspiracy theories. He meditates. He thinks he is a star seed and he follows some “ascension” practices. He says he personally has seen UFOs, and in particular told me about his once seeing a huge one in his back yard at night. It consisted of three white spherical lights in triangle formation.

So as I was sitting there in the bathtub, thinking I was missing some piece of information about my current practice and thinking that I should ask this young man for a link to traveling instructions, I suddenly saw in front of me three small white-light spheres in triangle formation! This happened the instant I thought this young man’s name.

Poor Concentration and Aborted Astral Travel Mission

After chatting a while with DreamWalker about traveling and shamanic soul retrieval, I decided to use what I was already good at as a platform for travaling: jhanas, especially formless realms. The plan was to ask for help in seeing what I need to know to aid me in practice and in writing a book to help others practice. Well, this session was terrible! My breath felt jerky, and no amount of adjusting it helped until I was about a frustrating hour into the sit, when I started deliberately taking very deep, slow in-breaths, and equally slow out-breaths.

Finally, I was calm, but then I had difficulty with the jhanas. I used to call them up and they would manifest on command. Not so now, and the more I tried to exert control, the worse the sit became. Finally, I decided to just drop all notions of jhana factors and getting anywhere. The sit still was less than stellar but I did get to some soft form of arupa jhana, either j5 or j6, though I’ve not been able to tell the difference between Boundless Space and Boundless Consciousness since second path, as documented in my blue journal. Maybe I can’t tell them apart because, ultimately, there is not any difference between space and awareness. Makes sense, yes? 

I never seem to get to j8 anymore, but I’m out of practice at that sort of thing and really have no insight to gain from it and no motivation to practice jhanas. J7 is an interesting state, but it takes quite a bit of wrenching intent for me to gain it anymore, and I’ve rarely tried. I didn’t see the point in trying last night. If I had had more time and no traveling goal, I think it would have been fruitful to simply watch the jhanas happen, without trying to call them up. But I’m short on time these days, and nights.

In fact, as the sit continued, I didn’t see much point in what I initially thought I was after. I was tense, and there was perhaps even some fear associated with traveling, but I’m not sure. I didn’t think I was afraid when I started. There was definitely a sensed undertow pulling me back down and away from the impulse to travel, though.

I finally opened my eyes and started my usual practice, which is always profound. Interestingly, this time nothing happened. Even after 15 minutes, it was more practice dessert! This was interesting and I took it as kind of a sign that down this traveling sidetrack wasn’t where I should currently be going.

Dream Incubation Spell

I extinguished the candle and crawled into bed. I decided on the spot that I would try a dream incubation since my travel plans were canceled. As I normally do with much success following,I wrote out an incubation to all the beings who care about these practices: 
Please bless me in my practice. 
Please take me in a dream to a teacher who can show me some truth that will aid my practice and my teaching others how to awaken in this very life. 

Through my chat with DreamWalker, I had settled in my mind mainly on an extraordinary-being teacher of cosmological-scale knowledge that will help with my writing a dharma book. Instead, my dream took me to Daniel Ingram, standing before a gallows on this planet Earth, about to hang an innocent child.

Dream Narratives

I am standing at the foot of a gallows in the middle of a green grassy field. It is early morning, springtime, and birds are singing. Daniel is standing up on the platform and is placing a noose around a blond little boy’s neck.

I’m looking up at Daniel’s face from below, sobbing, begging him not to go through with executing this pure child. Daniel blithely ignores me, humming to himself, and proceeds in workaday fashion to string up the child. As he does, I look down to my right and see a clone, or twin, of the first boy. Still crying hard, I pick up this little boy and hold him in my arms, tight against my body. I’m sobbing, furious, and scream at Daniel, “You will never take this one from me! You will never get away with such black evil again, not on my watch!”

I woke up from this dream. It was morning but I was still sleepy. I took out my incubation text and reread it. I placed it back under my pillow, and, after I lay back down again to sleep, I asked for another dream to clarify the first.

Arrive that dream did:

Now I’m driving in my car at night. Every few blocks, I see a young man in his twenties whom I know to be having mental health issues and to have no money or wherewithal to get help. I pick them up in my car and transport each to where he can get help. I give each money to pay for the services he needs.

Now I hear on the car radio news that MCTB2 has been posted for commentary. I suddenly have the impulse to stop the vehicle and email Daniel to ask him to consider removing his claim to arahatship from the cover and the book, and to tell the truth about the Actual Freedom era, when he admitted in an audio recording that he was not in fact “done” with his awakening. But then I think better of my impulse and decide not to have anything to do with him. I decide instead to drive to a little gym in a strip mall and get a workout on the elliptical machine.

I enter the little all-night gym. As I do, I’m surrounded by reporters who try to get me to comment on the posting of Ingram’s MCTB2 version that excludes our yearlong collaboration. I tell all of them “no comment” and push past them all to a stairwell at the back of the gym. I tell them that I’m going to the Women’s restroom, not to follow me, that I want to be alone, that being a woman has to pay off in at least this one respect.

So underground I go. I enter a dim, dirty restroom and then enter a stall. On top of the commode tank, there is a box of chocolates with “Jenny” writ large on a Christmas card that is atop it. I open the card, which plays Christmas music, a glass harmonica, as I do. The card says to take one candy and to pass the gift on to others, anonymously. The card doesn’t say so, but I psychically know that the candy keeps replenishing so long as everyone who receives the gift takes only one piece and pays the rest forward. I also know psychically that my best friend since high school, Robyn, sent me the chocolates and card.

I leave the restroom with the candy and card. I walk down the basement hall until I find a door. I enter a conference room with a table in the middle. There are some high windows on the far wall. They are open and daylight is pouring down into the basement through them. Paige and a few other dharma students are sitting around the table. I place the gift and the card on the table, and I push them across to my teacher John, who is sitting below the windows. When I meet his eyes with mine, all the emotional pain surrounding Daniel and MCTB2 evaporates.

Again I woke from the dream. Again, I decided to go back to sleep once more. I asked once more for further clarification.

I am back in my car, driving away from the little gym with the underground dharma meeting. It is night. I resume my practice of finding young men who need help and transporting them to where they can receive appropriate help. But I have a new idea: I pull the car over, get out ,and look up at the night sky. Then visions begin in the sky, revealing psychically to me that they are maps of interstellar routes and tracking systems. Gradually, I understand how to read the sky visions as a map. It tells me where to find those young men in need. This quickens my work in locating and transporting them in my vehicle, which I resume doing. Then I awoke for the last time.

Dream Evaluation

The boy that Daniel hangs looks to be 3 or 4 years old. He has white-blond hair, but is not my son when he was small. The boy reminds me more of my son’s cousin, Matthew, when Matthew was small. Perhaps the connection here is that I have to attend a court ordeal with my son tomorrow, and his attorney’s name is Matthew.

In the scathing letter that Daniel wrote me on the day that my copyright registration of MCTB2 was approved, he referred to MCTB2 as his “baby” and to me as a criminal. In fact he compared me to a thief, a stalker, and a rapist. Mind you, this was my first mentor, dharma teacher, a self-proclaimed arahat, who wrote these devastating words to me. So one obvious meaning of the hanging of the boy is that MCTB2, his “baby,” was annihilated by Daniel, not me. And for Daniel the important point of the execution was that I watch it, bear witness to it, for it was all meant to punish me, not the boy. The clone of the first dead boy as a second living one that I picked up and protected is my own writing, own book.

Another meaning of the little boy and the young men I drive around to help derives from the fact that Daniel’s public forum, the Dharma Overground, consists mainly of young men.

The radio news, reporters, and attempts to question me point to Daniel’s fame and jealous-god-like attachment to fame and competitiveness. This dream is a warning against attachment to the Eight Worldly Dharmas. That is why the Christmas candy and card are anonymous and come with the understanding that we all benefit only if none takes more than his or her share personally. This dream is a warning against personal gain, personal powers, as ends and goals.

The basement room with the light-bearing windows around John’s head is a new Dharma Underground. The vision of John thus positioned reminds me of the painting by De Vinci of Christ’s last supper.

These dreams mark the first time in a long time that I’ve dreamed of my car as “vehicle” of awakening, something that occurred often for many months after the scene with Daniel exploded.

The sky as vision as map was just a hint of what I was initially looking for via travel or dream. It is saying to keep to my personal vehicle for traveling, which is to practice as I have been, that my current practice will  tell me where I need to go and how to help other beings. Power and fame and special feats are still a mere sidetrack. And that sidetrack leads to a dead end.

Bright Sands and Dark Nights

Aversion to Practice and Practitioners

For the past week I feel as though I’ve been adrift in some moderate lapse of faith. And I’m not sure what triggered it. Perhaps, as I discussed with DreamWalker, I am in fact actually sometimes still experiencing insight stages, in this case mild Reobservation (the “rolling up the mat” stage). I felt unmotivated to practice or tidy my room all week. I wouldn’t even keep my altar nice. In fact my sloppy bedroom seemed a mirror in which I stubbornly met the eye of my own anger.

I think I feel a little cut adrift and alone in my practice, meaning I am averse to being around Buddhists and even distrust the tradition, texts, and most teachers. So that is Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha – now cut off. So is it any wonder that this feels like a crisis of faith? All the trappings and external supports are falling away. And I’m somehow now too pissed about that to support myself through practice.

Back to the Past to Gather Little Jenny in My Arms

When we last talked, my teacher suggested that I address my insomniac hyper-vigilance by practicing tonglen for Little Jenny at those moments of horror at her having had to parent her parents. I’ve done this only once. I found I couldn’t bring up the moments of my father’s failings or my mother’s seizure, both of which traumatized me and the latter of which caused me to hallucinate for about 10 days, without sleep, when I was 18 years old – a psychiatric crisis. Those hallucinations were of everything organic decaying rapidly before my eyes, dying. It was terrifying, and even though I knew they were just hallucinations, I couldn’t make them stop and I couldn’t sleep lest one of my loved ones actually die because I neglected to keep watch. A psychologist at the university finally hypnotized me with a suggestion to be able to sleep. I did nap at my best friend’s a couple of hours later, and when I awoke the hallucinations had stopped. But ever since that event, I’ve had a problematic relationship with sleep, delaying bedtime and struggling with insomnia.

Although I couldn’t retake those moments with any coherence during practice, I was able to go even further back in time and stare down at Very Little Jenny of about 3 years old. She had a patch on her eye and was wearing a plaid dress, red cardigan, and tights. It wasn’t formal tonglen, but with my current Big Jenny strength, I gathered her up in my arms and poured on the love and compassion. She was fragile and smelled sweet, like honeysuckle.

An Invisible Vehicle Built for One and Sunk in Sands

Perhaps the anger that began sometime afterward and persisted isn’t a crisis at all, though. Perhaps it is part of the abandonment of all devices and conditions. Months ago I had a dream of a teacher who didn’t speak to me but just cried desert sand out of his two cow’s skull eye sockets.

My real-life teacher explained that in alchemical process there is an arid “drying up” phase. Excess emotionality is drying up. The excited connection with other practitioners I enjoyed in the Dharma Underground is no more. I’m no longer manufacturing emotion and drama. More recently, I’ve dreamed that I’m riding a bicycle from place to place during the day. Whenever I arrive where I must interact, I lay the bike down on its side and stare at it until it sinks into sand and becomes invisible. I think this is a symbol for my vehicle of practice. It is solo and I hide it from everyone in the arid sinkholes of dreamtime.

The Field of Fear and Rage

It was a hard week. Everyone on social media has been raging and fear-mongering over the election of Donald Trump as president. I tried three times to urge calm and clarity, but everyone wanted to foment and cast that kind of field. I’m super-sensitive to that sort of thing now, and I perhaps should have withdrawn sooner. This field is chaos and confusion. No one knows what news is real, whether Julian Assange has been murdered, or whether the difference between Trump and Clinton is mere distraction from the more sinister forces behind all apparent thrones.

And my son had a hard week, was violently ill and having to adjust to great injustice done him.

Dream Reentry: Vehicles, Maps, and Healing

Summary of First Dream Sequence

What I’m about to write is the dream sequel to the incubated dream from my last post.

After the sequence I audio-recorded upon waking, I went back to sleep, hoping for return to or expansion on the incubated question, which was directed to the masters, teachers, or ancestors, and sought, because I’m suddenly very ill with a strange vaculitis, to show me what I need to pay attention to for my highest good. The themes and images in the first dream sequence were as follows:

  • Autumn and nighttime at a rural fair
  • A decapitated jack-o-lantern head mounted above a written warning against sexual manipulation of gullible girls and women
  • Games of basketball with a warped ball that was analogue to the perfect moon
  • Advice from a father about my writing poetry
  • My teaching people how to start a white car with love and psychic knowledge

So I fell back asleep and had another series of rather brief and disjointed dreams, in the following order.

Collision of Black and White Vehicles

I am driving a white car through a western desert in daylight. The white car is exactly like the one I taught others to start with the Love button in the first dream. I reach an intersection and see a mirror image of my car, except that it is black. I assume that it will follow the rules and yield right-of-way to my white car, but instead it runs the stop sign and will smash into my car – except that I wake up from the dream just before impact. I vow to remember this dream, and then I go back to sleep.

Anger at My Teacher for Taking My Practice Mapping Journal

I’m in a big house that seems to be a place of dharma retreat and teaching. Other students are there. My teacher John is there, and I go into a room with him and sit beside him on the floor. I open a handwritten journal I’ve been keeping and begin reading a couple of short passages aloud to him. He says nothing about those passages. Instead, he takes the journal away from me and turns to the front, where I’ve drawn maps of attainments and made notes beside each attainment about where I think certain acquaintances of mine are on the map. He knows one of these acquaintances. I am angry at him for doing this. I rise, snatch back my notebook from him, and walk out of the home, quitting the retreat. I walk all the way home, alone. Then I wake again. I’m lying on my left side, and morning light is streaming in through an aperture across the room, in vertical rays. Then I fall asleep one last time.

Two Spirit Hands Healing Me While I Lie Lucid

I am aware that I’m sleeping. I’m lying on my left side. From a third-person point of view, I can see two white spirit hands come down from the heavens. The two palms of white light rest down on my right hip, whose extreme pain was a prodrome of my current illness. The hands are healing me. I am healed.

Before I went to sleep last night, and before I wrote out the dream incubation, I called upon Padmasambhava and White Tara for healing. I then did a short healing practice via akashic records. The final dream was remarkable and lucid.

The entire night’s dreams need to be sorted and evaluated in terms of the question that incubated them. I’ll do that later in a separate post.

Dream Incubation: Fair Warnings

At the end of this dream narrative audio, I mention that I’m going back to sleep to gain more information about its meaning. I did return to dream land, and I did have further dreams, one of which was remarkable, lucid, and literally healing me from current illness. I’ll post separately on that second dream sequence, and then I’ll post separately again to evaluate these dreams for what I can take into waking life to actualize their messages. 

Practice well, all.