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Post by zazeniac on Jul 14, 2020 14:00:21 GMT -5
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Jul 18, 2020 17:07:02 GMT -5
Just sitting is probably the most difficult thing you will ever do. I like his point about the birds singing. If you listen to the birds you are no longer just sitting. If you pee before you sit, you've got at least 2 hours before that's a problem, but it will become a problem. You will think of something you need to do, or at least you want to write it down so you won't forget to do it later. A different thought will come up about every 2 seconds, we will forget to just sit, and even if we remember it will be difficult to not chase the thoughts. We'll feel tension somewhere, and feel a need to move. Just sit. Beyond the tension there will eventually be pain. Just sit. Not easy.
With Coronavirus we find it not-easy even just to stay at home. Maybe a few days, OK. maybe a week, OK. When it started I got set for a month, food, toilet paper, etc. So if you've never tried to just sit you got a taste of it with stay at home.
The next question, what can't just sit? What in you can't-just-sit? Why can't we just sit? What in-you can't just stay at home?
Years ago, I tried to stay at home at least one day a week. It didn't happen very often. Then, too, I was always a walker. So I tried to answer the question, if I do nothing else but walk, does that mean I broke my intention to stay put? I carried my lunch at least 4 days a week (our company had a policy of eating out Fridays). So one Sunday, my day to stay put, I realized I had nothing for Monday lunch. So I talked myself into going to the store to get something for lunch all week. And then Monday morning I found myself in a hurry and walked out forgetting my lunch. So I messed up my stay at home day for nothing.
So one can learn a lot by just sitting. And then something else. And then something else. And...then...something...else.
One thing I've learned the last 44 years, what's simple is not always easy.
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Post by zazeniac on Jul 18, 2020 17:30:47 GMT -5
Just sitting is probably the most difficult thing you will ever do. I like his point about the birds singing. If you listen to the birds you are no longer just sitting. If you pee before you sit, you've got at least 2 hours before that's a problem, but it will become a problem. You will think of something you need to do, or at least you want to write it down so you won't forget to do it later. A different thought will come up about every 2 seconds, we will forget to just sit, and even if we remember it will be difficult to not chase the thoughts. We'll feel tension somewhere, and feel a need to move. Just sit. Beyond the tension there will eventually be pain. Just sit. Not easy. With Coronavirus we find it not-easy even just to stay at home. Maybe a few days, OK. maybe a week, OK. When it started I got set for a month, food, toilet paper, etc. So if you've never tried to just sit you got a taste of it with stay at home. The next question, what can't just sit? What in you can't-just-sit? Why can't we just sit? What in-you can't just stay at home? Years ago, I tried to stay at home at least one day a week. It didn't happen very often. Then, too, I was always a walker. So I tried to answer the question, if I do nothing else but walk, does that mean I broke my intention to stay put? I carried my lunch at least 4 days a week (our company had a policy of eating out Fridays). So one Sunday, my day to stay put, I realized I had nothing for Monday lunch. So I talked myself into going to the store to get something for lunch all week. And then Monday morning I found myself in a hurry and walked out forgetting my lunch. So I messed up my stay at home day for nothing. So one can learn a lot by just sitting. And then something else. And then something else. And...then...something...else. One thing I've learned the last 44 years, what's simple is not always easy. So true. But what makes it hard? What I liked about Soto, why it's simple, is that lack of mental gymnastics. This is not real. This is. How many SVPs can you fit on the head of a pin? Those things are not relevant, sitting is. Not to detract from other paths. Hehehehe.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Jul 19, 2020 6:45:53 GMT -5
Just sitting is probably the most difficult thing you will ever do. I like his point about the birds singing. If you listen to the birds you are no longer just sitting. If you pee before you sit, you've got at least 2 hours before that's a problem, but it will become a problem. You will think of something you need to do, or at least you want to write it down so you won't forget to do it later. A different thought will come up about every 2 seconds, we will forget to just sit, and even if we remember it will be difficult to not chase the thoughts. We'll feel tension somewhere, and feel a need to move. Just sit. Beyond the tension there will eventually be pain. Just sit. Not easy. With Coronavirus we find it not-easy even just to stay at home. Maybe a few days, OK. maybe a week, OK. When it started I got set for a month, food, toilet paper, etc. So if you've never tried to just sit you got a taste of it with stay at home. The next question, what can't just sit? What in you can't-just-sit? Why can't we just sit? What in-you can't just stay at home? Years ago, I tried to stay at home at least one day a week. It didn't happen very often. Then, too, I was always a walker. So I tried to answer the question, if I do nothing else but walk, does that mean I broke my intention to stay put? I carried my lunch at least 4 days a week (our company had a policy of eating out Fridays). So one Sunday, my day to stay put, I realized I had nothing for Monday lunch. So I talked myself into going to the store to get something for lunch all week. And then Monday morning I found myself in a hurry and walked out forgetting my lunch. So I messed up my stay at home day for nothing. So one can learn a lot by just sitting. And then something else. And then something else. And...then...something...else. One thing I've learned the last 44 years, what's simple is not always easy. So true. But what makes it hard? What I liked about Soto, why it's simple, is that lack of mental gymnastics. This is not real. This is. How many SVPs can you fit on the head of a pin? Those things are not relevant, sitting is. Not to detract from other paths. Hehehehe. The trick is that it does go somewhere. But for it to go somewhere, you have to get fierce with it. One can spend a lifetime of sitting, thinking comes up, oh yea, that again, and have this back and forth and and forth all one's life. So one has to get serious about vigilance, first second something distracts, go back to just sitting. (Not saying you are not serious, I have no idea). There isn't any end to the depths attention (and/or awareness) can penetrate. Did you ever read Jack and the Beanstalk? (Or have it read to you). Magic beans, planted (attention-sitting). Beanstalk grows, up to the giant (ego). Giant hides and keeps the goose that lays the golden eggs (_______). Jack has to slay the giant to get and keep the goose. So Jack chops down the beanstalk while giant is climbing down, kills giant. So sitting is a battle against ego. Ego wants to think, get up, write a note, etc. So, sit longer without ego-interruption. Believe me, there is a golden goose. Sit longer, without ego-interruption, in a few weeks you will see goose feathers. But the sitting is to germinate the seed. And then you learn that just sitting is not just sitting. (Sorry I massacred your thread with a fairy tale).
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Post by zazeniac on Jul 19, 2020 9:41:25 GMT -5
So true. But what makes it hard? What I liked about Soto, why it's simple, is that lack of mental gymnastics. This is not real. This is. How many SVPs can you fit on the head of a pin? Those things are not relevant, sitting is. Not to detract from other paths. Hehehehe. The trick is that it does go somewhere. But for it to go somewhere, you have to get fierce with it. One can spend a lifetime of sitting, thinking comes up, oh yea, that again, and have this back and forth and and forth all one's life. So one has to get serious about vigilance, first second something distracts, go back to just sitting. (Not saying you are not serious, I have no idea). There isn't any end to the depths attention (and/or awareness) can penetrate. Did you ever read Jack and the Beanstalk? (Or have it read to you). Magic beans, planted (attention-sitting). Beanstalk grows, up to the giant (ego). Giant hides and keeps the goose that lays the golden eggs (_______). Jack has to slay the giant to get and keep the goose. So Jack chops down the beanstalk while giant is climbing down, kills giant. So sitting is a battle against ego. Ego wants to think, get up, write a note, etc. So, sit longer without ego-interruption. Believe me, there is a golden goose. Sit longer, without ego-interruption, in a few weeks you will see goose feathers. But the sitting is to germinate the seed. And then you learn that just sitting is not just sitting. (Sorry I massacred your thread with a fairy tale). No massacre. I've enjoyed your posts. Free flowing, spontaneous. I agree with what you say. But you can sit even without sitting. My problem is the desire for the ego to subside permanently. I get wiffs of freedom. Sifty talks about this. I've let go of the notion that it will be permanent. It hinders me. The other good thing about sitting is observing the mind, after the fact, after the thought stream. Laughy does it while its happening. But it gives me a close look at what goes on. Why I say this ego, the one who posts here is far from perfect, quite flawed. I say this without judgment. It's what it's supposed to be. I was in foster care from the age of 6 to 12. I was in.a home in Miami Beach for troubled kids, bad kids. There was a new kid came in. He had his parents here in the states. Mine were still in Cuba. This kid was there because he set fire to his house. His own parents put him there, but he was extremely good looking, very light skinned and blond. That was a big thing in Cuban culture back then. The women who ran the home loved him, but he was a psychopath. I had a little money because all the kids had jobs at the hotels nearby as cabana boys and they paid me to do the household chores they were responsible for. This new guy wouldn't work. He would borrow money from me. I would loan it to him and eventually he flat out told me he wasn't paying it back. He stole more than twenty dollars from me. He was bigger and stronger than I was. He pretty much owned me. Then.one day, when I was in the living room, playing my little card board football game, with a spinner, my prized possession, a gift from my brothers who had "graduated" out of foster care. He walked by me, knelt down, and broke off the spinner in my game. I don't remember much of what happened next, but he ended up in the hospital. The only reason I didn't go to jail was the other boys told the whole story. They stuck up for me, but the old ladies berated me and beat me up for it. They hated me for it. Plus I was dark. I felt very ashamed and embarrassed. I have for a long time. Until recently when I made peace with that side of me. Why my mother indoctrinated me in Assissi and Gandhi and not my brothers. It all makes sense now. I reunited with my parents in 1967. Why I admire peacemakers. I'm not one of them innately. I have to work at it. It was hard to share that embarrassing. Anyways, meditation gives me a view of what's at work in the mind. The judgment and angst when that side of me surfaces. I accept it now. It feels good. I still walk away from knuckleheads, but I appreciate the wisdom of it. See I've a ways to go yet.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Jul 19, 2020 11:49:26 GMT -5
The trick is that it does go somewhere. But for it to go somewhere, you have to get fierce with it. One can spend a lifetime of sitting, thinking comes up, oh yea, that again, and have this back and forth and and forth all one's life. So one has to get serious about vigilance, first second something distracts, go back to just sitting. (Not saying you are not serious, I have no idea). There isn't any end to the depths attention (and/or awareness) can penetrate. Did you ever read Jack and the Beanstalk? (Or have it read to you). Magic beans, planted (attention-sitting). Beanstalk grows, up to the giant (ego). Giant hides and keeps the goose that lays the golden eggs (_______). Jack has to slay the giant to get and keep the goose. So Jack chops down the beanstalk while giant is climbing down, kills giant. So sitting is a battle against ego. Ego wants to think, get up, write a note, etc. So, sit longer without ego-interruption. Believe me, there is a golden goose. Sit longer, without ego-interruption, in a few weeks you will see goose feathers. But the sitting is to germinate the seed. And then you learn that just sitting is not just sitting. (Sorry I massacred your thread with a fairy tale). No massacre. I've enjoyed your posts. Free flowing, spontaneous. I agree with what you say. But you can sit even without sitting. My problem is the desire for the ego to subside permanently. I get wiffs of freedom. Sifty talks about this. I've let go of the notion that it will be permanent. It hinders me. The other good thing about sitting is observing the mind, after the fact, after the thought stream. Laughy does it while its happening. But it gives me a close look at what goes on. Why I say this ego, the one who posts here is far from perfect, quite flawed. I say this without judgment. It's what it's supposed to be. I was in foster care from the age of 6 to 12. I was in.a home in Miami Beach for troubled kids, bad kids. There was a new kid came in. He had his parents here in the states. Mine were still in Cuba. This kid was there because he set fire to his house. His own parents put him there, but he was extremely good looking, very light skinned and blond. That was a big thing in Cuban culture back then. The women who ran the home loved him, but he was a psychopath. I had a little money because all the kids had jobs at the hotels nearby as cabana boys and they paid me to do the household chores they were responsible for. This new guy wouldn't work. He would borrow money from me. I would loan it to him and eventually he flat out told me he wasn't paying it back. He stole more than twenty dollars from me. He was bigger and stronger than I was. He pretty much owned me. Then.one day, when I was in the living room, playing my little card board football game, with a spinner, my prized possession, a gift from my brothers who had "graduated" out of foster care. He walked by me, knelt down, and broke off the spinner in my game. I don't remember much of what happened next, but he ended up in the hospital. The only reason I didn't go to jail was the other boys told the whole story. They stuck up for me, but the old ladies berated me and beat me up for it. They hated me for it. Plus I was dark. I felt very ashamed and embarrassed. I have for a long time. Until recently when I made peace with that side of me. Why my mother indoctrinated me in Assissi and Gandhi and not my brothers. It all makes sense now. I reunited with my parents in 1967. Why I admire peacemakers. I'm not one of them innately. I have to work at it. It was hard to share that embarrassing. Anyways, meditation gives me a view of what's at work in the mind. The judgment and angst when that side of me surfaces. I accept it now. It feels good. I still walk away from knuckleheads, but I appreciate the wisdom of it. See I've a ways to go yet. All in all, you were probably more fortunate than me. I was raised never to fight under any circumstances. I think I must have been unusual in that I mostly obeyed my parents, their rules, mostly my mother's rules. But if you merely obey the rules, you don't learn how to really deal with life and situations. I was amazingly shy, crippled really, and I was allowed to stay crippled, be crippled. But anyway, it's wrong to teach a kid to never fight. When I was in 7th grade I faced a situation with an older boy, it was semi-public, at school, IOW, there were 12-15 other boys present. This older boy did something 10 times worse than your bully did to you. I should have immediately jumped him like you did. He would have beat my a$$ pretty good, but it would have been worth it. I went and told the teacher of that class. Nothing else was ever mentioned about what had happened. The teacher didn't talk to me further, I don't know how the other kid was punished. I was embarrassed to no end, I can still picture the event in my mind, and some things afterwards. I say you are probably more fortunate, because I lived an abnormal life because of my shyness. (I was lucky, at 24 I met a man who helped me deal with myself). About 15 years ago I tried to think of a way to show my father appreciation. So on father's day I wrote out memories I had with him over the years, mostly when I was young. For some years I ended up with about a page handwritten. I tried to do the same for my mother, but most of my memories with her were...things I could never tell her, they were mostly memories with a bad taste. I remember one instance when I was 22, afterwards I never cared if I ever saw either of them again or even talked to either of them. That never really changed, although I did have somewhat a relationship with them, but it was mostly one-sided. Anyway, 5 and 1/2 years ago Daddy got sick, and basically I cared for him until he died 3 and 1/2 years ago, there at least 5 days a week (my sister the other time). After he died I rented my condo and moved in with Mother, there basically 24/7, but she could basically take care of herself, not like I had to help take care of Daddy. But these hard feelings were still present. I finally decided, this is just stupid, and decided to deal with it. And then I realized it was all on me, I had to resolve it without Mother, she, 89, would never understand. So it took me a few days, thinking about it, and I just forgave her, forgave her everything. But of course I never told her anything. When I did, it was literally like a great weight lifted. I actually felt different toward her. I actually knew things were going to be better between us. I was kind of excited about l-o-v-i-n-g her. For 5 years I had basically just been there, doing whatever was necessary. I didn't resent it, it was just something that had to be done. And then, about a week later, she fell and shattered the bone above her knee, where her knee replacement went into the bone, and had to have surgery a couple of days later to repair it. it seemed like nothing, broken leg, fix it, heal it, move on. But during surgery she had an embolism, irreparable heart damage. She died less than 12 hours later. It was almost like events were waiting for me to take care of my issues. I'm sure I would not done it if I hadn't done it before she died. So, everybody has crap. I didn't really dwell on the past, memory just came up at times, and what-iffing. But I didn't really know how my memory effected me until dealing with the Mother-stuff. That's ego-s**t, conditioning, we all have it, until we don't. It's in our unconscious/subconscious, it is us. I haven't really thought of it until just now, but I realize I have quit what-iffing. What if Mother hadn't bla, bla, bla. About ego subsiding permanently. Have you ever seen the film A Beautiful Mind? If not I wouldn't want to spoil it, but a kind of analogy. At the end of the film Nash received the Nobel Prize for his math in relation to economics. After the ceremony, he looks over and sees his ~three buddies~ he has had to deal with for years. There were still there, but he had learned not to ~believe in them~. ...This could get a lot longer, but I guess I'll stop there. Thanks, likewise.
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Post by zazeniac on Jul 19, 2020 12:23:29 GMT -5
No massacre. I've enjoyed your posts. Free flowing, spontaneous. I agree with what you say. But you can sit even without sitting. My problem is the desire for the ego to subside permanently. I get wiffs of freedom. Sifty talks about this. I've let go of the notion that it will be permanent. It hinders me. The other good thing about sitting is observing the mind, after the fact, after the thought stream. Laughy does it while its happening. But it gives me a close look at what goes on. Why I say this ego, the one who posts here is far from perfect, quite flawed. I say this without judgment. It's what it's supposed to be. I was in foster care from the age of 6 to 12. I was in.a home in Miami Beach for troubled kids, bad kids. There was a new kid came in. He had his parents here in the states. Mine were still in Cuba. This kid was there because he set fire to his house. His own parents put him there, but he was extremely good looking, very light skinned and blond. That was a big thing in Cuban culture back then. The women who ran the home loved him, but he was a psychopath. I had a little money because all the kids had jobs at the hotels nearby as cabana boys and they paid me to do the household chores they were responsible for. This new guy wouldn't work. He would borrow money from me. I would loan it to him and eventually he flat out told me he wasn't paying it back. He stole more than twenty dollars from me. He was bigger and stronger than I was. He pretty much owned me. Then.one day, when I was in the living room, playing my little card board football game, with a spinner, my prized possession, a gift from my brothers who had "graduated" out of foster care. He walked by me, knelt down, and broke off the spinner in my game. I don't remember much of what happened next, but he ended up in the hospital. The only reason I didn't go to jail was the other boys told the whole story. They stuck up for me, but the old ladies berated me and beat me up for it. They hated me for it. Plus I was dark. I felt very ashamed and embarrassed. I have for a long time. Until recently when I made peace with that side of me. Why my mother indoctrinated me in Assissi and Gandhi and not my brothers. It all makes sense now. I reunited with my parents in 1967. Why I admire peacemakers. I'm not one of them innately. I have to work at it. It was hard to share that embarrassing. Anyways, meditation gives me a view of what's at work in the mind. The judgment and angst when that side of me surfaces. I accept it now. It feels good. I still walk away from knuckleheads, but I appreciate the wisdom of it. See I've a ways to go yet. All in all, you were probably more fortunate than me. I was raised never to fight under any circumstances. I think I must have been unusual in that I mostly obeyed my parents, their rules, mostly my mother's rules. But if you merely obey the rules, you don't learn how to really deal with life and situations. I was amazingly shy, crippled really, and I was allowed to stay crippled, be crippled. But anyway, it's wrong to teach a kid to never fight. When I was in 7th grade I faced a situation with an older boy, it was semi-public, at school, IOW, there were 12-15 other boys present. This older boy did something 10 times worse than your bully did to you. I should have immediately jumped him like you did. He would have beat my a$$ pretty good, but it would have been worth it. I went and told the teacher of that class. Nothing else was ever mentioned about what had happened. The teacher didn't talk to me further, I don't know how the other kid was punished. I was embarrassed to no end, I can still picture the event in my mind, and some things afterwards. I say you are probably more fortunate, because I lived an abnormal life because of my shyness. (I was lucky, at 24 I met a man who helped me deal with myself). About 15 years ago I tried to think of a way to show my father appreciation. So on father's day I wrote out memories I had with him over the years, mostly when I was young. For some years I ended up with about a page handwritten. I tried to do the same for my mother, but most of my memories with her were...things I could never tell her, they were mostly memories with a bad taste. I remember one instance when I was 22, afterwards I never cared if I ever saw either of them again or even talked to either of them. That never really changed, although I did have somewhat a relationship with them, but it was mostly one-sided. Anyway, 5 and 1/2 years ago Daddy got sick, and basically I cared for him until he died 3 and 1/2 years ago, there at least 5 days a week (my sister the other time). After he died I rented my condo and moved in with Mother, there basically 24/7, but she could basically take care of herself, not like I had to help take care of Daddy. But these hard feelings were still present. I finally decided, this is just stupid, and decided to deal with it. And then I realized it was all on me, I had to resolve it without Mother, she, 89, would never understand. So it took me a few days, thinking about it, and I just forgave her, forgave her everything. But of course I never told her anything. When I did, it was literally like a great weight lifted. I actually felt different toward her. I actually knew things were going to be better between us. I was kind of excited about l-o-v-i-n-g her. For 5 years I had basically just been there, doing whatever was necessary. I didn't resent it, it was just something that had to be done. And then, about a week later, she fell and shattered the bone above her knee, where her knee replacement went into the bone, and had to have surgery a couple of days later to repair it. it seemed like nothing, broken leg, fix it, heal it, move on. But during surgery she had an embolism, irreparable heart damage. She died less than 12 hours later. It was almost like events were waiting for me to take care of my issues. I'm sure I would not done it if I hadn't done it before she died. So, everybody has crap. I didn't really dwell on the past, memory just came up at times, and what-iffing. But I didn't really know how my memory effected me until dealing with the Mother-stuff. That's ego-s**t, conditioning, we all have it, until we don't. It's in our unconscious/subconscious, it is us. I haven't really thought of it until just now, but I realize I have quit what-iffing. What if Mother hadn't bla, bla, bla. About ego subsiding permanently. Have you ever seen the film A Beautiful Mind? If not I wouldn't want to spoil it, but a kind of analogy. At the end of the film Nash received the Nobel Prize for his math in relation to economics. After the ceremony, he looks over and sees his ~three buddies~ he has had to deal with for years. There were still there, but he had learned not to ~believe in them~. ...This could get a lot longer, but I guess I'll stop there. Thanks, likewise. Thanks for sharing. I'll reply tonight in detail when I have more time.
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Post by zazeniac on Jul 24, 2020 12:19:17 GMT -5
Carlos Castanedas wrote about the Yaqui religion. Don Juan his Yaqui teacher emphasized that folks who approached the "nagual," the supernatural, had to have their "tonal," the physical, earthly, in order, otherwise, they would get crazy when they took the peyote. There is a parallel to this in the nondual realm. Folks who aren't ready who claim to be SR, aren't necessarily crazy, but sound a bit odd at times. When there is too much mental agitation, then even self-inquiry becomes intolerable or not feasible and the seeker might require, some sort of therapy, perhaps psychoanalysis as Sifty suggests or some form of alignment as Reefs calls it. Just throwing that idea out there.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Jul 25, 2020 9:55:22 GMT -5
Carlos Castanedas wrote about the Yaqui religion. Don Juan his Yaqui teacher emphasized that folks who approached the "nagual," the supernatural, had to have their "tonal," the physical, earthly, in order, otherwise, they would get crazy when they took the peyote. There is a parallel to this in the nondual realm. Folks who aren't ready who claim to be SR, aren't necessarily crazy, but sound a bit odd at times. When there is too much mental agitation, then even self-inquiry becomes intolerable or not feasible and the seeker might require, some sort of therapy, perhaps psychoanalysis as Sifty suggests or some form of alignment as Reefs calls it. Just throwing that idea out there. In the early 70's I looked at the first book, couldn't get into it (wasn't interested in drugs). In 1974 I ended up with a book club edition of Journey To Ixtlan, loved it, non-doing and all that business. Then I went back and read the first two, and then the 4th when it came out. Then I read each as a new book came out every few years. About this time I also started reading Joseph Chilton Pearce, and likewise read his new books as they came out. (BTW, a biography of his life and teaching is coming out Feb 2021). Over the years visiting different places, different retreat centers, I've heard some crazy s**t coming out of the mouth of some people, and they seemed quite serious. So these days I don't think I can be surprised. Most people are kind of like a house of cards, very fragile outside the consensus world. A big shift can have a shattering effect. I'd say these shifts involve energy. I've seen 50 feet of copper wire melt like butter when a short didn't trip a breaker and the wire tried to carry too much electricity. I'd say alignment is necessary to be able to take-in higher "octane" energy, the kind Don Juan was introducing to Castaneda, the kind necessary to break through to the extra-ordinary world. Spiritual practice is about increasing one's "wire size", to be able to handle "higher voltage". As far as I know Castaneda never explained what personal power is, what the term meant. Years later I realized Don Juan mean the accumulation of energy, not a metaphor. Breaking in-to a higher world is kind of like an electron receiving photon energy and jumping to a higher orbit, and then giving up that energy up and returning to its ground state.
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