07-16-2014, 12:00 AM
I keep coming back to the fact that my favorite stories to read in terms of sorcery are those about deeds of personal power. In large part, this comes from my once childish delight with the supernormal and 'kewl powerz' of sorceric tales ... but now, hearing of such deeds, while still very fun and enjoyable, is more of an inspiration to me of what humans can be, and that, to me, is a deeply motivating thing, not for power's sake but for inner clarity.
With that said, I will share another story of power, which will be my second topical post in this category:
By far, the deepest I have gone into power was about a year ago when I was meditating in my apartment after spending time in silence awakening what in many traditions is called 'The Third Eye'. The force of Intent began as a slight pressure, which then, with time and sustained silence, began to swirl in lines from my skull. The room in front of where I was staring began to take on a fluid quality. The walls and floor spun and mixed together like a type of wet paint. I saw energy and spirit, and heard a tremendous rumbling, which to this day, is a mystery to me. The world became a vortex and I began to wield intent and 'look through' the bed. My desire, at that moment, was indeed for power, to see how far I could push this moment of intent. When my urgency for power overwhelmed my focus, the vortex diminished and the only sign of me having ever achieved such a state was in my own memory.
With that said, I will share another story of power, which will be my second topical post in this category:
By far, the deepest I have gone into power was about a year ago when I was meditating in my apartment after spending time in silence awakening what in many traditions is called 'The Third Eye'. The force of Intent began as a slight pressure, which then, with time and sustained silence, began to swirl in lines from my skull. The room in front of where I was staring began to take on a fluid quality. The walls and floor spun and mixed together like a type of wet paint. I saw energy and spirit, and heard a tremendous rumbling, which to this day, is a mystery to me. The world became a vortex and I began to wield intent and 'look through' the bed. My desire, at that moment, was indeed for power, to see how far I could push this moment of intent. When my urgency for power overwhelmed my focus, the vortex diminished and the only sign of me having ever achieved such a state was in my own memory.