The Eidolons journey

Journals, Group Rituals & Free Readings
23

Muladhara meditation findings from a few days back, with possible physical reactions. When I meditated on that chakra I could feel several red energy streams climbing up around my spine, in different paces and intensities. I understood that these energy streams must be reunited into one steady movement. I attempted this during meditation but one of them always slipped away from that unity, doing its own little thing. That rascal. One day after that exercise I started my period, a week too early.

Sooooo. Something DID happen but its not the removal of the target. The target has become oddly silent, though. Absolutely nothing can be heard since I’ve started the hot foot powder treatment of the targets shoes. I am not sure if the “keep someone away” quality of the powder keeps away the aspect of the target that annoys me :sweat_smile: Not going to complain, but not going to stop either. I have almost reached half of the time I was giving the powder to do its thing.

What else?
I’ve been kept into a strange motivational loop in regards of physical training by Leraje. Longer sessions, a better understanding about reps and switching of exercises. My eating habits also got much better and it doesn’t feel restrictive to me, more intuitionally. Am I spotting a shy beginning of visible muscles? I do. Thats weird, man.

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24

Another thing, it doesn’t have to be connected to the powder but I note it down nonetheless.
The target switched out the pair of shoes that they are wearing; its the only pair of shoes thats been replaced. I do wonder if the powder makes it uncomfortable to wear what its sprinkled on :face_with_monocle:

Healing working notes:
a coworker thats been diagnosed with cancer some months ago had their first day of work :potted_plant: This coworker has been the first target I did non-remote healing workings on. Their medical treatment is officially finished :slight_smile: At the moment I am busy with getting their mental health back on track, so they can recover from the fear that the diagnosis and the treatment and change of life circumstances brought into their life.

I have put the mask into quarantine, for now. I will see what I can do for its inhabitant.
Of course I had to visit my parents beforehand; my father seems to be paranoid about his health declining - as its currently the case with all male members of this bloodline- and me not showing up for him. Which I still won’t. I’ve told them about me not drinking anymore; the first thing they did when I arrived was offering me all sorts of liqueur before ending up giving me two bottles of the hard shit as a “gift”. They also reminded me about their eternal weaponized incompetence that I had to deal with for as long as I can think. Something was too inconvenient for them? “I don’t know how to do that/You have to do it yourself”. A little incident in that regard made me drive home with a seething rage. I had no idea how angry I was about this until then. They moaned to me about not being able to generate any kind of savings in their life although they stole a juicy inheritance from me, when I was still a kid. Whatever they did with that, it apparently wasn’t part of their retirement plan. I am planning on asking them about that when they will express the idea of financially supporting them :relieved:

Something more pleasant:
Plants stopped dying on me. Also, Saturn.

A sidequest:
detecting the whereabouts of stolen items from a friend that have been removed from their family roughly 22 years ago. I am really not sure about the success rate, the energetic traces are super thin by now and I am also sure that the items have been splitted up and have found new owners, every piece in a different place. But I will check in with that task every now and then, as I might have been shown the whereabouts about something very specific in March, before I even knew about that incident. This might be fun :grinning:

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25

Standing my ground and shit

One very dysfunctional interpersonal pattern of mine for the longest time of my life: being overly compliant, for the sake of keeping the peace. A deeply ingrained conditioning of mine is that I am “hysteric”, “difficult” or of a “prickly character” when I am voicing my opinion, representing personal interests or simply setting boundaries with third parties. Its been quite a ride with dissolving this false lesson and letting people not walk over whats important to me for the sake of their sense of well-being. Thanks to practicing magick on a regular basis I’ve developed a more healthier understanding about the difference in between being simply diplomatic and being a door mat that caters to everyone but me.

So, yesterday I wasn’t having any of the diplomatic part but I wasn’t resorting to “simply smile it away” either. As I am reaching the four month mark of sobriety my partner found that its a good idea to put a bunch of red wine into our dinner. He knows how much I’ve struggled with alcohol and how much I’ve invested into not relapsing; I haven’t touched a single drink the last couple of months, I am okay with people drinking around me and I am even handling alcohol as offering gifts on a regular basis without feeling any kind of temptation around it. I am proud about my development in that regard and I am trying my best to reshape body and mind after the most acute detox phase (which I handled completely by myself, don’t attempt that kind of stuff at home folks). I am confident that I will not guide myself back into this cycle again. The only thing that I expect: not being guided into a relapse by a trusted third party, not being able to have a choice about it in the first place.

That kind of trust has been damaged yesterday; it wasn’t so much about the “putting alcohol into food” part that got to me. It was about his reasoning. “Its only a small amount.” “It won’t be that bad for you.” “I cooked it even longer than I should have.” He wanted to argue with me over him wanting to be right vs. my physical and mental integrity. He was willing to send me into a very possible relapse (4%- 84% of remaining alcohol inside of the food is kind of a lottery here for the body of a former addict and one very vital part of recovery is not playing this game in the first place) only for the sake of him being in the right. And possibly defending his online source about this information, I don’t know.

In this moment, while staring down at my dinner - that simply reeked of red wine- I felt so anxious and unsafe and vulnerable. I was thinking about how to defuse this situation while trying to believe into his conviction vs. the very strong signals that my body was trying to send to me. And then I got suddenly very angry. I wasn’t angry about the alcohol. I was angry about how sulky and defiant he was about it; how he wouldn’t simply express that he wasn’t considering this situation. No, he had to be right, even if it would erase almost four months of hard work, sending my body and mind back into god knows what kind of downward spiral.

I had to think back about a dream that I had in the same night that I pacted with Leraje about this alcohol situation: me sitting in front of his altar, sobbing over an empty glass of red wine. I decided that I would not act out on this vision.

While my SO was still defending why this food is safe for me to consume I snapped and slammed my hand onto the table, telling him that this is enough. I told him that I will not have any of this any longer and that I will not choose his peace of mind over my physical and mental health. For the first time in over almost ten years there was no talking back to me; only a forced out “Sorry” and endeavours to quickly mask the situation with other stuff. I haven’t felt any kind of authentic compassion or consideration for me, though. It was an automatic kind of thing.

I think that yesterday was a turning point in that regard. Really standing up for myself has been something I always had my little problems with, in that relationship. It was always me who attempted the mending and reconciliation and meeting in the middle stuff. I won’t do that anymore. I am not sure how it will influence our relationship for the future; I know that I am not willing to parley with him over my own sense of safety any longer though. I find it ironic that this realization hits one day before my anniversary of magickal practice.

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26

Its been five years, man. Five years ago on this very day I’ve managed to get my ass out of the armchair, out of spite. Its strange how being at your wits end can transform something profoundly fucked up into a second chance at life itself.

Thank you, Leraje. Your unpretentious and pragmatic guidance through everything of it makes it feel as if I’ve been much longer on this and as if I’ve only started out yesterday at the same time. There is always a sense of wonder even in what has become a routine. You know it, I owe you big time (especially for the moments when you had to beat the living crap out of my attitude, that stood in between me and what I’ve wanted or needed from out of this).

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I think I’m a bit closer to everything, compared to five years ago.
So. Five more and I receive my collectors watch? :smirk_cat:

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27

A row of very intense dreams the entire night; I will log only one of them, as this dream was seemingly the starting point.

Summary

An entity disguised as a man tried to attack me with a knife and a gun. I disarmed him and stabbed his forehead with his own knife, shooting his right knee and right torso with his own gun. As he bled out on my living room floor I tied him up - safety first- and decided that I would let him die like that, until the entity showed itself. Through the eyes of that old man this entity looked at me with an expression I could only describe as regret. This is where I changed my plan and decided that I would grant this entire being a dignified death. I took off the ties from its body and wrapped it in several blankets, propping its bleeding head onto a pillow for comfort. The creature instantly started to drift off, a relaxed smile on its face while its essence faded away. Later that day I would improvise a shroud out of these blankets, wrapping them securely around the old mans body; I drove him out into a forest, offering his remains their final rest in a ready made grave .

When I got back to sleep after that I had three or four other very vivid dreams following me until sunrise. One of them was very comforting and also a bit tempting, a welcomed change from the otherwise rather violent scenes.

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28

Linking this here, not in the mood for double posts

But something else does its job, apparently. Although differently than I’ve anticipated.

The landlord called me two days ago, asking me about the neighbouring family and their stance towards keeping stuff clean and keeping junk out. Apparently the shop owners from downstairs filed a complaint against this family; I’ve sprinkled the powder into everybodies shoes at some point because I couldn’t quite determine which ones belong to the target, except for the current pair.

It turns out that the shop owners are fed up, too. While giving the landlord a report about what is not in our possession among the crap thats cluttering the entire basement and backside of the house and what segments of the floor I am not cleaning from nightly party leftovers (in this country neighbours are sharing the responsibility for keeping the floors and the entrances clean) he kind of complained about this family running down the worth of the property with their behaviour. I am 100% sure that they won’t change their behaviour after receiving that talk from the landlord, so the next step might very well be along the lines of eviction.

As empathetically as I have always been feeling towards that family for years: enjoying some quiet and peace for a bit sounds very alluring to me, especially now. So, I will probably use the powder until the bottle has been emptied and see how things will go.

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29

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Forest related gifts for Leraje, Bune, Orobas, Focalor, Buer and two unnamed companions. It isn’t nearly as much as I owe each of them for their teachings the last couple of years but its as authentic as I can manage :sweat_smile:

Lately I came to the conclusion that I am most likely cojoined at the Muladhara with somebody. As we obviously don’t share a common ancestral lineage in any way it makes me actually think that this is some strange past life/shared traumatising event kinna stuff. I am usually not overly involved with such things, as I am pretty much a present and future oriented person. But these occurrences and their frequency made me very curious. I digged a bit inside of myself during a meditation about clues of that past connection and why things are as they currently are.

The visuals drew me into some sort of examination room from the 1930s/1940s, a doctors office. I was sitting on a green examination couch made out of metal; I felt a sense of despair as I was starring at two or three X-rays that the doctor got delivered to his desk. I can decipher a few italian words on the back of what looks like a patient chart. I think that the doctor left me alone for a bit after he brought me the news about the estimated rest of my lifetime.

I suppose that this fragment is connected to this current energetic exchange/reaction, past life wise. I don’t claim accuracy on the time frame, but I would think that the core of “terminal illness” is trying to fill in some blank spaces.

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30

General healing working on own body and mind notes before I drifted off to sleep:

I was able to see the embodiment of what I would describe as every ailment (physically, mentally) that I’ve ever encountered over longer periods of time in my life. It wasn’t a monster or something scary. It was a very much human like being. Noting down the importance of green silk clothes here, for further researches if I need to.

I could feel the healing of this embodiment starting when it was approached by a tall Ibex. I watched them contacting each other via touch and I felt a sense of peace and comfort here. The sickness creature-person-thing started to transform into a healthier looking version of itself, with each passing second of this exchange.

'Attar/Athtar (عثتر , therefore I would pronounce it “Athtar” instead of 'Attar)?

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31

…and off you wander into the wondrous world of adult living, fam.

The landlord is convinced that this dude is old enough to move into his own living place (together with his house parties and away from my need for rest), after he had a talk with the father. The landlord will give out one formal warning before removing the entire family and renting out the apartment for a bigger amount of money to a different kind of clientele.

My only task until then:

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32

5 months and some-ish days sober today, despite many good and legit reasons to hit the liqueur cabinet the last couple of weeks; every single bottle remained untouched, except for offering reasons to spirits.

I don’t miss that shit anymore. Leraje, you’re an absolute legend. I thought I wasn’t ready for this, guess I was wrong.

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33

Dragging myself through some dreaded yet overdue Svadhisthana exploration at the moment. I wasn’t sure if I would be stable enough to tackle this task in addition to getting and staying sober but I feel confident that now is the right time to do this.

Some years back Leraje urged me to stay away from a certain medication that belonged to my household staples of stuff that the docs prescribed me out of habit. At the end of 2020 I finally agreed and threw the medicine in question into the trash can. My body changed quite a bit after that and by now I am fully aware that this medication didn’t actually treated but masked a condition that was there the entire time but that wasn’t profitable enough for the docs and my healthcare provider to be…well, treated? A realization that made me incredibly angry at first, a realization about how my body wasn’t mine but some sort of property of some lazy physicians decisions for years. I realized how unheard I actually was, how I had no say in the treatment plan back then and how little regard was shown towards my very legit concerns.

Thankfully this is all currently changing, as I am educating myself and get to know my real body and its real and unmasked reactions to its environment. I have also received an additional private insurance from my employer that lets me use a completely different pool of professionals and specialists that aren’t in the plan of my regular healthcare provider (thank you, Buer!!).

Since I am convinced that I should align my energetic body to my new treatment plan I’ve finally took first steps into healing my Svadhisthana as good as I can. I’ve learned recently that its suggested that a heightened stress response in childhood can trigger epigenetic changes in the body to a harmful extent. In addition my own childhood trauma has been stored away exceptionally strongly in the Svadhisthana, so I plan to get some work done in that regard until the new physical treatment plan can work its scientific magick.

I took some meditational deep dives into the sacral department and I wasn’t surprised with what I’ve found. Some very uncomfortable sessions will lie ahead but I know that this time I am sitting in my own power, with my own knowledge at my disposal.

Yesterdays Svadhisthana working focused on the role of shame in my childhood and later adult life. There was one event in particular that came through to symbolize how I was made to feel shame and secrecy over something I had no control or power over, something that was ripped away from me by the people that should have protected me from such things in the first place. One of the lessons learned: “It wasn’t your fault. Like, really.”

The chakra point in question flared up in a crimson red before it decided to switch into what I would probably describe as “sunlight”, but from a very child-like angle.

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34

My blood tests recently came back and they’ve been showing what I’ve expressed towards countless physicians for several years already but what was never visible because of the medication changing certain stats long term, while the root of the problem stayed undetected and festering. While being brushed off and being treated like a mental case although I simply knew that something was wrong with my body :+1:
I feel free after 17 years. I had a little mental breakdown from the lifted weight and the confirmation that I wasn’t crazy. Not now, not back then. I was crying with anger and relief behind the wheel of my car for a bit.

Leraje, you saved my life with your counsel and I don’t say that to sound dramatic. Maybe two or three more years before the irreversible damage would have been done to my organs. I can’t express how grateful I feel. Also, Buer: thank you for letting them finally see with their own eyes and for letting me pick up on all the important clues and research work. You made me advocate for myself in a system that is filled with blind eyes, deaf ears and big pockets. I will do everything in my power to take care of myself and to value the “its not too late” moment, that was given to me.

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35

Currently preparing a road opening ritual for my dying great uncle (today) and his wife, who was brought into the ER with a stroke (last night), in case they need to find each other quickly. I wonder if they made a silent appointment with each other after he was released into hospice care last week. I want to believe this. I wish none of them the grief to be without the other one, no matter how brief that period of time might be. I want everything to align for them to the right time and it looks as if now is the right time. I kinda hope they can do this journey together, no matter where they will end up.
(Saturn is busy in this family)

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36

Dream log:

I am finding myself back inside of a tall hall with dark blue tiles all over. A stream of water is running in a clockwise direction inside a small artifical tiled channel on the ground and close to the walls throughout the entire hall. I had visions about this place earlier this year, when I was working on my Nafs, when I started to use the names of Allah on every Latifah inside of me. Back then the hall was empty and I wasn’t sure what to do with that vision or that place.

Now I am back and I find two shrouded bodies placed on the ground, a third shrouded one already in preparation on a stone table. This is a morgue, my personal hall of the dead and the third body belongs into the “soon to be dead” category of this family as well.

I open a door that leads into some sort of dining hall; I can see members of my family gathered there. One of my cousins notices me and asks me if I could make the waters turn backwards again. I tell her “No” and inside of my mind I add “not for you, that is.” Fuck her and most of them, mate. I will exercise my duty and not a thing more.

Before I had this dream I had a vision about Leraje and me standing on the rooftop of some sort of base. Missiles are starting from where we’re at and I can see him grinning underneath his neck gaiter as he tells me “Hagalo, (Name).”.

The vision stretches into the very thin before-falling-asleep-consciousness. The last thing I see is a white missile that we have loaded. Three red hebrew letters are written on it; I can not read hebrew but my ears translate these bits as “Ahad” (“Al -Ahad” is 67th name of Allah, “the sole/indivisible one”, not sure if this will be important for further Lataif workings). Before I fall asleep I scribble the heard name into my notebook, together with the hebrew letters as good as my memory and sleep will let me.

In the morning I discover that my scribbled BS is almost correct and that the missile was indeed reading 'echadh. “One”, semantically equated with being many parts, yet one. Like a unit thats made up from many bits.

37

TW for the squeamish ones around body fluids and functions of the female body :+1:

I used a combination of lower chakra workings (Svadhisthana and Muladhara) and a bit of spirit help to force my body into early menstruation, the other day. An upcoming surgery in a few days would have been exercised at the same day where my red visitor would usually drop in and to be honest: I couldn’t imagine to feel that miserable on such a day :neutral_face: I thought that I could certainly help it in some way, so I asked Leraje to kickstart the whole process when my lower chakras would be ready enough after a meditational warm-up. He and I have a peculiar history around spontaneous flood-like red occurrences since our earliest days and by now its a beloved running gag, “You remember, that one time when I profusely bled my guts out on my new sneakers in the basement of my coworker because of you?”, and then we both laugh. I went to the ER that day because I thought that I was going to die. Good old times.

Less gore, more focus now. When I felt both of my chakras getting “softer” (I can’t quite describe it in a better way) and flexible I asked Leraje to do his weird trick. In my minds eye there was this glass sphere hanging from a ceiling, filled with dark red liquid. I could feel something shooting a little crack into the bottom of this sphere, like a small rock that was fired from a slingshot. The dark red liquid began to drip through the tiny fissure, slowly.

Three days later and six days too early (which is not typical for me) I felt glad over the soul wrenching pain and the physical manifestation of this working. I won’t do this too often, since I don’t want to fuck up my cycle and my hormones. But at least I will not experience that dreaded “first day” on the surgery table and it makes me feel much more at ease. I am also a bit proud about the well timed manifestation of energy manipulation :sweat_smile:

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38

We decided to pull the plug from my great aunt, today. My great uncle had a very fleeting moment of consciousness beforehand, mentioning how he would “shoot himself” if he would have to wake up without her. He slumped back into unconsciousness, treated for his pain but now without life-prolonging measures. We are currently waiting for their bodies to sync up, so to speak. I will try to ease both of them into their new journey and I hope that their essences will be able to identify, find and hold on to each other. I will ask Zuhal to oversee this process and to gently pull up the veil in between them and us.

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39

She made it. She passed at the same time I was shoved into surgery myself; before the sedatives hit I was having some kind of feeling. Yesterday the cards told me who would go first and it was her.

My great uncle will follow soon, either tonight or tomorrow. He will not live to feel the grief and I firmly believe that he knows. I believe that it will make him pass more freely, without being afraid that he has to “hold up” for her sake.

I will heavily work with Zuhal for this burial because I know that my family will make an absolute shitshow out of it. They are comically afraid of death and everything that touches that topic. As most of them are next in line I hope that this kind of corny way to leave this life will somewhat nudge them into a more sober mindset.

The third dead man walking must find a way to accept the concept of mortality, his mortality. Maybe I can include him in a way that starts this acceptance.

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40

Done. I hope that I will be physically more in shape by the second week of November, to strengthen the current endeavours in that regard. At the moment I am insanely frustrated about the amount of rest I am forced to have. Intellectually I understand that my body still needs its resources to heal the surgery wound and the anesthesia remnants but one can only lay around in different rooms of the house so much. I am a bit sulky because I couldn’t use the large fire bowl outside of the house for todays rituals; I am not allowed to take stairs or to stand for too long. (I can’t wait to have the suture removed, I can’t meditate fully relaxed like this :sweat_smile: )

Thankfully, burned bay leaves smell exceptionally nice to me; I burned them in my altar room, pulling the harvest of my work and my endeavours towards me and mine. The name فاروق / Faruq illuminated my mind all of a sudden while I inhaled the scent of the burned leaves. I suppose that this should serve as a reminder that I am always obliged to tell right from wrong when dealing with personal material matters.

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41

Dreamlog:

Being in a shoot-out with a man that started to go on a killing spree from seemingly one moment to the next. After having my right hand torn into shreds by the impact of a bullet that he was shooting at his daughter I was able to overpower him eventually. When inspecting the dead body I found a grimoire-like book. It was written in spanish, but not in coherent sentences but in words that had been pieced together randomly and without relation to another. From certain sentences I could see other sentences floating over the sheets; I couldn’t make out the language but the words had been written in spirals, with red letters. The spirals stood out to me the most and I think that they somehow activated the behaviour of the reader.

The father of the dead man was flipping through the pages briefly; he changed almost instantly and tried to attack the remnants of his family. I decided to take the book with me, to prevent any further damage. Sadly I can’t remember any of the sequences regarding the spanish words.

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42

Approx 1 hour of spontanous out of body session. I could feel my entire body while walking around in my own bedroom; I could even feel the stitches and the bruised areas on my foot with each step. I stayed inside the house with that session because I didn’t want to risk to walk around in less forgiving areas with the injury. But I find it peculiar how my foot was feeling the pain and how it didn’t bring me back into my body; I could carefully check back with myself laying on the bed but I could also return to every other spot of the house. I haven’t meditated or prepared anything for that. Maybe my energetic body is confused over whats going on with my physical body.

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