I was camping earlier in the year and on one of the nights, I came face to face with something unsavoury, probably alien, while slipping between waking and sleeping. Sometimes when I go through the paralysis, my soul doesn’t exit all the way, but I can open my eyes and see the field. What I saw was an ugly, lumpy, ghostly pale being attempting to get to me through my husband. My first, knee-jerk instinct was to angrily grab it and pull it out, but in doing so I felt a grip around my soul-body tighten. So I let go and just looked at it. Remembering that it couldn’t do anything without my consent or participation. The being dispersed like smoke. And then, not aware of my body anymore, I find myself in deep space, and I see the outline of my heart. Immediately I put a sheath of golden light around it. The following months would see me dislodge something hard and metallic placed over the top of my heart space. In its absence, my mind has been able to drop down into my body *consistently* - as a baseline - for the first time basically ever. The OCD-type mental compulsions have dropped off in a massive way. Which is miraculous, because the root of some of those pathways have existed ever since I can remember. Last night I had a dream where I heard a voice in my head tell me that my soul could be harmed. (Not possible, but the soul could create a reality where it simulates that if it believes it.) And I felt the fear penetrate. It is a creeping, constricting feeling in my body that is visceral as fuck even in the dream space, that I have felt many times before. But instead of me becoming engulfed in darkness and the dream space collapsing, I spot it, gather my focus, and set about commanding my space. I see arms come over my shoulders - that same ghostly pale colour, and lumpy, with long finger nails. But they can’t touch me. I know what it is immediately. A man comes to my assistance and places his hand over my heart and speaks out commands with me. And I wake up. It has been quite a trip to recognise that I have been under intense and unrelenting psychic attack for pretty much my entire life. And moreover, that more attempts to penetrate my field are gonna happen, the brighter and clearer I get. The more my mind drops back beyond the obsession and problem solving. The more I recognise the unfuckwithable nature of my soul. The more I learn let go of control. AND, the more sovereign I become, the more I recognise that the attempts that the opposition makes to reassert itself are the ways it EXPOSES itself. I don’t speak in terms of good vs evil very often but it is useless to pretend that this dichotomy isn’t a part of this reality and that dimensional warfare isn't at the root of a lot of psychic illness. And my point here, is that the more rooted in the truth that you get, the more you identify with what you actually are, the more evil just gets caught with its trousers down, while scrambling to stay relevant.

I was good friends with a bloke in university, and it would take some years after we’d long lost touch to realise that he was a compulsive liar with some pretty deep set narcissism. I really don’t love the word because I think it’s thrown around a lot. And also because I think we all have narcissistic tendencies, sometimes more overt that we even realise, and we’d do well to get honest about that instead of calling everyone else one. But here I am anyway lol I remember him workshopping a piece in our creative writing class, and it got ripped to bits because it was a short fiction about child abuse, but it was just utterly devoid of any complexity. It was so shallow and strange. I’m almost certain he wasn’t telling his life story although I know some will argue that trauma can breed a kind of detached story telling. It read like the lyrics of a death metal track. Just gratuitously grim for the sake of it. He listened to a lot that music. That workshop probably should have been a sign. But I’m reflecting on it now because I made a few close friends during that time who were frequently and flagrantly untruthful and destructively self absorbed. (I don’t think self absorption is an issue - even healthy - but I do think it can become destructive i.e damagingly narcissistic) And do you know what was funny? So was I. And more specifically, I wasn’t in the house. Just wasn’t there. I related with people who - albeit unconsciously - sensed that their nonsense could go unnoticed with me, because I was so outside of myself. Could barely see a car coming - inches from running me over - because I was so far away from myself most of the time. (What's funny, is that I have the gift of sight.) I came to uni at the height of the chronic disassociation that would lead to a break down at the end of it. Unsurprisingly, post mental break, those friendships fell away, very quickly. Almost all in one go. It was like I’d come out of a really deep fog, one that I knew even then was eventually gonna kill me if I didn’t shift. I’m pondering it because I’m pondering this way that we can carry the exact kind of velcro that hooks into other people’s. Cultivating presence - the kind of presence that is so clear and quiet it transforms everything it touches - is how you become velcro-less. Because when you see that clearly, nothing gets past you, and deception knows when it won’t get away with it. I chose not to see for a while because I didn’t have the emotional capacity or maturity to hold the truth. And when you see the truth, there are places where you are also gonna need to start telling it. It’s funny that my core gift is sight and also it is brilliant. I had the exact initiation around it that I was supposed to have.