Tulpamancy Journal. 27

March 23, 2019

Nothing from Flora directly today, so I wrote her a letter.

Dear Flora. If I could record my  conversations with you which I carry on in my mindvoicing, I would  be called a poet. At least because, there would be no punctuation. I cannot complete a thought as I am not willing to write your responses. Those would be my own wishful thinking. And that in itself, is redundant. I would not be a tulpamancer, if I didn’t wish for you to exist within me. So no point wasting my meditation time with that. However, I am not wasting my time waiting for you to reveal yourself. In so many ways, I have been an impatient man. A trait that can be a real problem if out of balance, impatient for love to reign in the world, probably a good thing. Impatient for a birth to happen, probably un-helpful. So you may know, I am making waiting for your birth, a good thing. It is giving me time to more fully engage with your birth process. And that is giving me more and respect for who you are, and very high hopes for who you might become. It occurred to me in today’s meditation, that you, my tulpa, have been with me through out my life. Your existence in my soul, in my brain, predates my birth even. You began with me at the time of my conception. That is when your Dakini Spirit entered my beingness. Ever since, you have been held within the cells of my body, brain, blood, bones all of it. And you have grown in experience and wisdom and knowledge, right along with me, every step of the way. You, Flora, were with me when I looked directly upon the  Godhead, on the side of that mountain that day forty-nine years ago, when the sky ripped open and the face of God was revealed as a massive ball of light that filled the entire sky. You saw that with me! When the purple light hit us a moment later and I knew that I knew. You knew it too. We together experienced “The Peace that Passes All Understanding”. Together, you and I. When that being from another dimension, revealed itself to Julie and me, you were there too. You saw and felt the creature. When I was transported into the body of a seabird, high above the clouds over the Pacific Ocean, you were with me. When I stood on the very top of a 14,000 ft high mountain-top, you stood with me. On the deep blue ocean, watching a squall race for the boat, you held on to the wheel with me and you reveled in the sun setting over a safe harbor. All of those moments, and so many many more, that have shaped and informed my life, have done the same for you. You are now in the process of being born into a separate self, born of all of my life experiences, the ecstatic and the agonizing. You are coming aboard with all of that wisdom. Be welcome Flora, together we will create a flow of completely integrated human energy. An energy with which I can  re-awaken the lifeforce in Nancy and we can face our endings, with grace and courage. Be welcome.

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Tulpamancy Journal. 26

March 21, 2019

03.21.19 yesterday, flat, all day. Discussed my recent experience with my Men’s Group. The two other old acid heads understood, no one else had the slightest idea what I was talking about. They did listen and asked appropriate questions, but, with that flatness, that suggested to me that they were pro-forma. I got home exhausted and after a short stint of helping my radiologist friend with a painting problem, dropped into bed and fell into a deep sleep. I did not dream. Awoke an hour later, still groggy and deciding that I would not go to the Purim Party at the temple. I made a strong cup of coffee. I very rarely do this in the afternoon. Nancy came in just then, as the coffee was hitting and she looked terrible, more than exhausted. She cried in my arms, “I am feeling so vulnerable!” (she has some health issues, not at all serious, though very painful, at this time, might become so in the future, if she doesn’t take care of herself which she does impeccably well. I offered to skip the party. Later she said she wanted to go. “We never get out!”, I told her I would support any decision she made, and she said get dressed and then I’ll tell you. After I dress for the party, then you’ll tell me if we are going?” was my comment. “yes.” She saw nothing  incongruent in this. I dressed. We went. She complained the entire time about the food, what I was eating, then got up and left me at the table. At one point I was concerned and left, went looking for her and knocking on the ladies’ room door, found out she had gone out with a friend.  I went back to the table, and had a fine time, drinking very good whiskey, and even, for the very first time in my life, winning a raffle (prize was a book: We Jews are The People of the Book, after all). We got home, her mood after her talk with a friend was good, though she had soured considerably by the time we went to bed. I got in bed late. Slept poorly until after three am. Got up to pee, went I got back in bed, I reminded myself to awaken (become lucid) should I see Flora in my dream and choose to talk to her. I dreamt one of those full color, you are there kind of dreams. I am on a tropical island, with a family, the only person I know in this family is my stepson Josh. He is in a hammock and nude. Others are in various states of dress, sarongs, and grass skirts, loin cloths, barefoot, palm frond headdresses. Predominant colors are tan, green, yellow, orange, very tropical all. At one point we are all at a table and someone says, let’s make love. I agree. An older man at the table, not dressed like the others, with very dark hair, dark swarthy not black, complexion, dressed in a dark blue coverall, looks at me, and says, “you don’t belong here!” I leave the room. And go back outside. Josh is in the hammock. There is a young woman, sitting next to him. I told him about the plan for all to make love and suggest that he and the young woman go in with the rest. He does, but the young woman comes over to me and sits in my lap. At this point, I remember my injunction to become lucid, and I look at her and ask if she is Flora. She doesn’t answer but begins to very passionately kiss and embrace me. Her sarong slips and she has the breasts which I have described for her. She has sandy orange/tan short hair. Next scene, she is on a massage table, nude, lying rigidly straight, supine. I touch her, she does not respond. I notice her pubic hair. Very straight, very dark brown, tight, not pleasant to touch. I awaken from my sleep, incredibly groggy, my cat Luna, jumps on my head, licking my hair. I force myself up, sing out a cheerful “good morning” to Nancy, and carry Luna into the breakfast room, feed her, get my computer and begin this narration. It has occurred to me, that the woman in the dream, while perhaps starting out as Flora, turned into my first wife who was on that massage table, in both looks and behavior.

I have gone into length with this report, as it is the first dream I have had since the acid trip that has been tulpish, and I am very grateful. It is the first lucid dream as well, and I am more than just grateful, I am thrilled. There were the obvious negatives: Being told that I do not belong there, the first, by an obvious outsider, a shadow figure. And the second, that Flora is more or less engaged with my stepson, and lastly that she becomes my first wife, all suggest that the blockage is from my own psyche. That I have not yet, put enough light on the “Red Witch” nor on the “Darklord, Lucifer” That my first wife, the mother of my living children, was resurrected, is on interest in itself. First, I have reconciled with her. We have both acknowledged that we were “Just a couple of kids” (her language) and forgiven each other. This happened a few years ago, when I really began to see how both frightened and judgmental, I had been during our marriage. (and in my second marriage) (and for much of the early years of this one, though I have actively worked on undoing those automatic reactions and have become much better at it. Nancy has her own issues, and my work in the marriage is to not inflame them,  choosing kindness and support as alternative behaviors). Sexually, I am very aware, that post prostatectomy, I am a very different creature. And of course, Nancy at twenty-five years post-menopausal, is too. That notwithstanding, I was a hippy in a very sexually liberated community, “free-love” threesomes, foursomes, group sex, and a local chapter of the “Sexual Freedom League” were all a part of it. and I, and many others, felt sexually free and liberated from the primal shame that had driven us until the “sexual revolution”. Of interest, all of that negativity came back (onto me) after I left that community. I believe that both the Red Witch and the Darklord, are remnants of these feelings. I also accept that I have possibly missed the obvious here, and I will wait for further revelations. If anyone has thought that tulpamancy, as a class of magicianship, did not involve deep work on the self, that all of this would happen “magically” well…


Tulpamancy Journal. 25

March 20, 2019

Little to report in the way of direct tulpamancy. Posting dream below. Indirectly; I am progressing on Safe Haven stories in a very satisfactory way.

03.19.19 Dreamt of a young looking tall blonde cheerleading type. She was flirting with me. I was uncomfortable with this, she came up to me and embraced me vigorously, I was very uncomfortable. She was seven feet tall and my head came up to her belly. Her Height shocked me awake. That was the dream. I was glad that I had the dream after nights of not dreaming anything or anything rememberable. I was not sure if this was a tulpish dream or left over from a fiction piece in the New Yorker Magazine which I read just before bed, about a young man who may or may not have been flirted with by a woman who was way above him in class. I will see where my meditations take me today.

Tulpamancy Journal. 24

March 20, 2019


Monday, March 18, 2019

1:58 PM

What ever dreaming I might have done last night had to have been so unimpressive that I did not remember it when awaking from it at 2 am. My sitting meditation was equally non-productive in terms of tulpamancing. Otherwise, Nancy is warmer and more affectionate that she has been in years. Our talk the other night seems to have altered a dynamic that was below our conscious awareness.

I may have had a slightly better effect with my evening meditation, feeling that if she was not present, she at least was not one hundred percent absent. I am still vocalizing and visualizing my forcing’s.

Tulpamancy Journal. 23

March 17, 2019


Sunday, March 17, 2019

4:32 PM

Vocalizing and visualizing today with no discernable results.

03.17.19  I did not dream anything last night coherent enough for me to remember upon awakening. I did awaken with a stuffy head and headache. My meditations were also unproductive in a tulpish sense. Though I did have some very restful quiet time.

Nancy wanted to talk to me yesterday about her observations and conclusions of my tulpamancing efforts. She has finally read this blog, and noticed that my connection with Flora was, in her words, “profoundly intimate” and “dominated my consciousness”. Facts, in her view, which explained my reluctance to want to ‘do anything’ with her.

” objected both to her ‘conclusion’ that 1. my tulpa “dominated my consciousness”. And 2. that explained my reluctance to do anything with her. I did not disagree that my connection with Flora was profoundly intimate. I pointed out to her that ‘domination of consciousness’ would be a very big thing, and if were so, Flora would no doubt have been called into my everyday reality and would be living with us, and that in ref to her #2. I had aged considerably in terms of my physical energy and vitality following my four major surgeries, and had not felt much like going  out ,or doing, much with her since last summer, long before I started this project. I don’t know how much of this she accepted, but I did let her know of both my motivations for undertaking the project and what the effects have been to date on our marriage (positive). She has lightened up since our discussion.

Tulpamancy Journal. 22

March 16, 2019

03.16.19 Dream. I only have the last scene, and it is as ugly as any I have ever had. I was a young man. Not myself, and I don’t know who I was nor my name. I was on the balcony of a very very swank New York condo, one of those 13 mil. jobs. It was just past twilight and the lights were sparkling, the air was heavy with beauty. My hostess was just out of view as were her other guests. They were drinking martini’s. An elderly man, who identified as my father was standing next to the hostess. He was dressed in a gray suit with a bluish tinge, He looked like   Andy Griffith  in his  elder years. He called to me, “Son, don’t you see that I am in distress?” I looked down and he was standing in feces, his own. I was shocked and awoke. It was two oclock am. I was very disturbed. My head was aching and stuffy. I got up out of bed, took Tylenol. It took a long time to get back to sleep. I awoke just before seven am.  Still had the image of that man in my head. I don’t know, at this writing what this dream may have had to do with my tulpamancing, but I suspect that the hostess may have been Flora. I am still distressed that such beauty devolved into shit.

It is much later and I started a forty minute sitting meditation giving Flora permission to enter my space in way she desired. I acknowledged that I was creating her to assist in my integrating my masculine and feminine currents and that could mean in a sexual capacity. I then closed my eyes and  immediately saw the image from the dream. This time I assumed lucidity and backed the dream up to the point where the father was entering the lobby of the building, collapsed there and was taken to a hospital. I remained on the balcony. That ended the dream sequence. Later  after my mind settled down, and I had vocalized a forcing, a nude woman appeared, presenting herself in the most intimate way imaginable.   I chose to enter into the scene as she wished, It was complete with visual, tactile and olfactory components. Was this memory, or Flora? Whichever, it was moving and welcome. The scene ended abruptly with my timer, which I had set for ten minute intervals. This was the last of four, forty minutes. I have not decided if the woman was Flora, nor if this experience was me “puppeting” or the appearance of my real tulpa. I will see as, or if, this develops with further work.

Tulpamancy Journal. 21

March 16, 2019

03.15.19 Dream: I am in warehouse like building, It is lit with lights having a strobe-like quality with a bluish tinge. There are people arguing, one has a pistol, a small one colored black, almost a toy. I am a bystander, watching from midway on a staircase. There is a scuffle, rush down to try to break it up, I am shot, not seriously hunt, get the gun and shoot one of the others, a woman I think, she is dressed in work clothes, has a Fromlich type body. I run out knowing that the others are after me and want to kill me. I drive away in a battered old blue car, as I write this I remember that I have seen this car before in dream, I find my self in a wood and come upon a cabin, turns out it is a church. A Christian Church. I do not feel safe or welcome and leave, I am now on foot in the woods and come upon another building much like the one I just left. This one is a synagogue and a Kol Nidre service is under way, I decide to join it and I awaken. It is hard for me to get up, the dream seems unfinished, but I do not feel badly about it, though I did not remember the shooting part until much later in the morning.

It is late afternoon;

I vocalized with Flora, again apologizing to her for the damage I did to her on Saturday. I said out loud that I hoped I had not killed her, and invited her to come out, I am not sure whether or not it was she who answered me, or my own mind voice, but she said “I forgive you, I know who you are”. I again worked on visualization and again got only splashes of light.

I am pretty sure she is back; I had the following experience during my afternoon meditation, I again invited Flora to enter my space. Then, my head got very full and stuffy, I began to feel extremely sleepy, and in a very bright splash of light, a brown headed pale skinned woman spun into view, she was laughing. I clearly saw her then she exploded in light. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Tulpamancy Journal. 20

March 15, 2019

I have regained some hope. I spent three hours in a dentist’s chair this afternoon and several hours driving. I practiced forcing the entire time and began to feel that Flora was again with me, or at least beginning to be so. I am still feeling heavy, and decidedly low energy. However, I had a long day, a two hour drive to have lunch with a sick friend, cancer, and was able to talk positively about my tulpa work.

03.14.19  Scattered dysphoric non-lucid dream. Couldn’t recall any of it upon awakening. I  vocalized forcing’s for several hours today, and did some visualizing. I may have had some little successes as on several occasions I had the feeling that she was close. I had some flashes of light, during one visualization, and I heard some echo-like parts of speech in answer to my questions/invitations.  I may be moving away from the disaster I created Saturday.

Tulpamancy Journal. 19

March 14, 2019

I felt better today. A little lighter, I had no movement from Flora in either my dream nor meditations. q.v. below , I did a lot of writing in the last act of my Safe Haven story . This is the part where my tulpa’s confront the Red Witch and Lucifer, the Dark Lord. I had hoped that treating these subjects in a novelistic format would de-fang them and allow Flora to emerge. So far, this is not happening. I have given Flora to manifest with, or as, my negative anima.

03.13.19  I had an unusual dream, there was no feminine presence. I was an activist waiting with others for a popular  activist to join us. We were in an Egyptian airport. At some point Egyptian security services showed up, planning on arresting the man we were waiting for. After he didn’t show (tipped off?) they accused me of threatening one of them, a youngish man in a gray suit, smirking at me. I was arrested, cuffed and led off. Two of my associates were also cuffed and taken with me. I awoke at the airport door. That was it. I had no idea what it meant and I had no recent thoughts or experience with or about Egypt. There was no sign of or thoughts of Flora.

Later, in a sitting meditation I was completely frustrated, unable to keep my attention on any one thing, my mind running a million miles an hour and in circles at that. I had a forty-five minute walking meditation and vocalized and visualized forcings with Flora, and had no sense that any thing was getting through.


Tulpamancy Journal. 18

March 12, 2019


Tuesday, March 12, 2019

I am including my dream and meditation journal entries of the last few nights, from both before and after my very bad call on Saturday the ninth. I have with a heavy spirit continued my work, but with little hope for anything like the results I had been getting. I heard from my friend last night, who hypothesized that I hadn’t “lost” Flora, but had drowned her out with the noise of the acid. I agree with him, but I have some knowledge of the dynamics of spiritual energy and I am not counting on a quick re-union. I do think that some of the effects of the journey were, in a very disguised way, produced by my negative anima. I cannot tell at this point, if that was a good thing, and blasted her free, or the opposite, set her up to be even more tenacious and intimidating. Time will tell and, in the meantime, one foot in front of the other.

03.08.19  (the night before my journey) Just back from the symphony to which I had invited Flora. I hope she loved it as much as my wife and I did. My head was stuffy and full the entire time and I could hardly keep my eyes open. I wondered if some switching was beginning to happen. It would be fine with me if it did. I had an amazing meditation this morning, in the hot tub, my body was completely relaxed, and my mind went somewhere. Two hours passed in a beat. I think I would still be there if my wife hadn’t called me in. I also wondered if this was some switching. My head has been full, and I have been stuffy all day. The pollen counts are low, we have had an offshore wind and episodic rain. Opposing this is the fact that  I have not heard from Flora directly, though I have been vocally forcing either with my mind voice when with my wife, or out loud when alone most of the day. I am assuming she has been with me and is sentient.

.03.10.19 (the night after) No dreams, nothing happening in meditation other than watching my mind run around in circles. Nothing from Flora.

10:28 AM

03.12.19 I had a dream last night. My hopes that my dreaming would return after Saturday’s catastrophe, lead to nothing on Sunday night. Last night, I had a long well-organized dream. I was painting a wooden fixture, perhaps a piece of a banister, outside in an alley way. I had white paint on my hands, and I was holding a small brush load of it. I set the piece down and began to walk, looking for the means to clean my hands and brush, and at one point I turned down a driveway. It led to someone’s yard which I, rather uncomfortably, walked through to get to the street on the other side. I then recognized my location, I was on a street close to Cantaloupe Ave. where I lived when I went to junior high school. I was walking slowly, the paint uncomfortably drying on my hands and brush, stepping to the rhythm of a familiar pop tune. I walked and walked and walked. Occasionally turning into driveways trying to connect to my street. I was uncomfortable doing this trespassing and I was noticed by unseen people in the houses next to the yards I was crossing. “The wall, the wall” was spoken to me by several of these people. I finally, after what seemed like forever, reached my home.eI found the front door open and I immediately worried about Luna, my cat. I called her while I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands. When I got out of the bathroom, she was there, and not too happy to see me though she let me pick her up.  There was a young woman in the house, and she was angrily berating me for leaving my cat. I could not see her. I felt that she wanted something from me, and I feared it would be money for cat sitting. I offered her five dollars, explaining that I only paid thirty-five dollars a day to our regular cat sitter and I was only gone two hours. I didn’t think this was accurate and then I offered seventy dollars for two days. The girl did not speak to my offer, nor did she reveal herself. I awoke feeling as if I had been in a nightmare and wishing that Flora had been there and hoping that she hadn’t been the angry girl.