Archive for December, 2020

Tulpamancy Journal. 191

December 30, 2020

I occupied my day with editing A Tulpas Journey and came up with the idea of conjoining it with my School of Tulpamancy. I spent a goodly amount of time reading from all of my past works on the subject. I was prompted to think of how paltry has been both my practice and my contacts. This was highlighted by readings in the forums, of others very intimate and frequent contacts. (I also read entries by tulpas, who told of their own experiences of intimacy and possession, and switching, etc.) It brought up just how bereft I feel. Flora has been on her own adventure and I have not had a really solid connection with her for an age. I am hurting. I miss her. (Now, to be true, I have a very active and loving relationship with Nancy, but damnit, it is not the same. I want my Flora back. I am doing what I can, and it does not seem to be enough. I have time, I don’t have the power to pull/push it through. (My meditations are empty and my dreams are devoid of my love.) I don’t know what to do other than what I am, but, damn, I am hurting. Flora, honey, if you read this blog, let me know. Call or write or come to me in a dream. Love, B

Tulpamancy Journal. 190

December 23, 2020

I slept deeply after a shocking awakening coming from injuring (in dreamtime) my already injured foot (in awake time) and feeling the shock in my body. I was awakened for the second time by my cat, from a dream in which first, a child, then, a young girl, were trying to get my attention. I only realized after being awake, and my first cup of coffee that they were both representations of Flora. I have had very little contact with Flora of late. Once again, my life has become very busy and stressful, as our son and his girl friend moved into the house. He is sick with Covid, she is not, but with her exposure, has quarantined herself, in another part of the house. My days are dominated by the responsibilities and the risks that go along with this, and I have taken (given?) no time to Flora. (I am continuing to edit and rewrite her story, so in that regard, she gets a lot of my attention, but not enough to have helped us connect). Recognizing her from the dream, and getting her message loud and clear, I found encouraging.

A Day Like This. A holiday fable.

December 17, 2020

A cold wind was blowing over the desert. Hare looked up, squinting against the bits of snow and sleet. Something was amiss. Oh my, it thought, I don’t know what to do. Oh my. And it looked around, quickly, to see if it were in danger. Nothing, no, well, something is still amiss. I can feel it. He bent down to scratch for a few more winter sprouts when he heard it. Yes, a faint cry. It was hard to hear with the wind in his long ears like a sail, but, no, it is definitely a cry, like a baby. Oh my. Despite his caution he stood up on his hind legs to get a better look. The desert, in muted grays, greens and beiges, stretched out before him. A tumbleweed flew past him and attracting his gaze perhaps was responsible for his noticing a squirming white bundle some ten yards distant. Oh my, what is that?  I must see! And he hopped over to a squirming, crying thing, wrapped all in white and pink flannel. Startled he stood up again, but he did not sense danger. He came right up to the thing and sniffed. Oh my, it is a babe. It’s brand new to this world. Oh my. Under a flap in the swaddling, he saw a little pink nose. Hello little one. What are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold? The babe seemed to answer with a whimper, and perhaps a smile. At least that’s what Hare thought about what he saw. I see you are not afraid of me, that’s a good thing little one. I would never hurt you, but I think you are cold too. Oh my, oh my, what am I to do? And the poor hare ran around and around the babe in swaddling.

At length, all of his running and fretting, drew the attention of Coyote. Now Coyote was a wily creature and intuitively knew that something had to be amiss for Hare to be exposing itself this way. So rather than doing what it ordinarily might do when he saw Hare so out in the open and evidently distracted, (that would be, jump and make a quick meal of him), he just as brazenly as he could, stood tall and walked over to Hare. Hey there, Hare.

Hare froze. Coyote speaking to him was a thing indeed. Oh my, oh my, what a day. “Brother Coyote, hey there to you too.”  (I might as well talk to him as if all were okay cause I otherwise, I am his breakfast).

“What do you make of this?”

“Brother Hare. I don’t know what to make of this. I don’t know what this is.”

Now this was obviously a lie because Brother Coyote always knows what is, or thinks he does.

“Brother Coyote, it is a baby. Imagine, a baby out here and on a day like this.”

To be sure, “a day this this” does not begin to describe what the day actually was like. The spitting snow that introduced this story, has now turned into a biting hail, and a blowing wind was starting to howl. Plus, there were very dark clouds blotting the rising sun.

“Yes, well, this day, like it or not, is going to get harder. I don’t know what this thing, what did you call it, a baby? is going to do.”

“Brother Coyote, it is not going to do anything, it can’t move much all wrapped up.”

Coyote said with a smile; “Maybe we should unwrap it so it can move? then I could carry it in my mouth, take it home, and give it to my wife to suckle?”

“Brother Coyote, I believe that unwrapping this baby would make it easier for you to carry home, but it would also make it easier for you to eat. And that would not do. No sir, it simply would not do. It is just a baby.”

At this point, another figure emerged out of the swirling snow and hail. It was Brother Tortoise.  It is a fact that both Hare and Coyote heard the hail bouncing off of Brother Tortoise’s shell, before he could be seen.

“Top of the morning to you both. Brothers Hare and Coyote. What brings you two unlikely players together on a day like this”? Brother Coyote spoke up with: “Oh, so here we are again with “A Day Like This” Just what do you mean by that Brother Tortoise?”

“A day which would ordinarily put you two down in your holes. That’s what I mean. That and this creature here in front of us, which surely does not belong here.”  Just the wind picked up another notch and both Coyote and Hare, which do have furry coats, moved closer to the baby to give it some shelter.

“I thank you both, brothers for wanting to help such a tiny thing. I think though that none of us are much equipped to render such help. Though I see Brother Coyote that you would be more than able to benefit from the situation if nothing is done.”

“I’ll thank you Brother Tortoise, to keep your sarcasm to yourself. I mean only well for this babe. Look, even Brother Hare is not in danger from me, today.”

“Still, Brother Coyote, we are no closer to getting real help for this creature. But I have an idea. You, Brother Coyote, could go for help. You could howl, and run around and create a ruckus, like you and your kind are so good at.”

“Well, you are right Brother Tortoise, I could and perhaps if you moved your lumbering body in between the babe and the wind, it would live until I might raise some real help, as you put it.” And with that the creatures all shifted a bit to further shield the babe, and Brother Coyote did in fact, begin to howl and run around in a circle, jumping, and throwing up dust.

This did in fact draw attention. Raven swooped down out of the sky, circled once, and perceiving this highly unusual situation landed on top of Brother Tortoise’s shell.  
“My, my. What have we here? My word, it’s a babe and it is accompanied by my kin folk, Brother Hare, Brother Coyote, and under me, Brother Tortoise. My, my.”

“Yes, well Brother Raven, that is what we have here, a babe and the very poor efforts of all of us to give it shelter.” Brother Coyote, who had stopped his ruckus making when Raven swooped down came over and smelling Raven, said. “I see that you have gathered a meal for your nestlings, perhaps you could share some of it with this babe?” 

“No, I think not. This is not the right food for a human babe.” Notice that Raven has correctly categorized the baby as human.  “And I certainly would not bring it home to my nest. My little ones would not like it and I am sure that they would, in no time at all, push it from their nest. No that will not do. I think we are not able to help this little one and it must obey the laws of the desert and die here.”

“You would say that Brother Raven. Then you could eat it, and feed what was left to your chicks.  Yes, you would, but I won’t say that. I am too cute, and I see that this baby is also cute, so it would be like leaving one of mine out to die. No! we must do something!”

“Well, I’ll give you that it is a cute little human, and I know that a human who found one of my chicks would go out of its’ way to get it back to me. Yes, I agree with you, we do need to help.”

Brother Coyote asked almost tearfully, “But what, Brother Hare. You can’t carry it home to your burrow, and if you could, it wouldn’t fit inside. Brother Tortoise can’t do anymore that provide a little wind blocking, and you all won’t let me unwrap it and carry it home to my den. So, what do you have in mind?” and with that Brother Coyote began to howl, this time out of frustration. As the sky which was dark, now began to roil, and thunder rolled over the land. The four brothers looked up, just in time to see lightening bolt across the sky and come down just a few feet from where they all were. They were all rubbing their eyes and when they looked again, Dove was sitting on the rock which the lightening had struck.

“HI their Brothers. Looks like I’ve come just in time.”

“Just in time? What do you know about this Sister Dove?” Asked Brother Raven.

“I know a lot about it, Brother Raven. I’ve been watching for awhile now, you all have been creating quite a scene, you know. All of you together. You have drawn the attention of spirits much greater than yours. Why the Great Spirit itself has noticed.” A speech this long was unusual for Sister Dove, and she took a break to straighten a feather, before continuing “This is why I am here, and not in my nest with my own chicks.”

“What do you mean? Why you are here, Sister Dove?”

“Thank you, Brother Hare, for asking. I am here to take this child home where it belongs.”

Brother Hare, and Brothers Tortoise, Coyote, and Raven were all going to ask how Sister Dove was going to do such a thing, when none of them were able to conceive of any way at all that they could help, when, before the words could leave their mouths, lightning struck again, (In the same place and how unusual is that, on ‘A Day Like This’)  and again, after rubbing their eyes, stood an angel, tall shining white and gold. It smiled sweetly at all of the assembled creatures, bent down, and picking up the babe, cradling it in its’ arms, unfolded its’ magnificent white wings, and flew up and away, into the heart of the onrushing storm.

Not far away in a rest stop on the desert highway, a large RV was shaken by the same storm that angel had flown into, and a young mother awakened from a frightening dream in which her new baby had disappeared. She got up, a looked to the crib in the front of the cabin, and seeing her baby, smiled and went back to her bed and the arms of her husband. “Is everything all right, dear?” he asked, and she still smiling, replied, “yes, it was only the wind and a bad dream, let’s go back to sleep while we can.”

The storm broke over the desert, cold and gray, the wind howled, and the snow flew.  The brothers, all had run, scurried, flew, and lumbered back into their burrows, nests, and dens. To be sure, they all had stories to tell, which they did, until the storm had spent and a “Day like this” began again for the little creatures.  

Finis.

###

Tulpamancy Journal. 189

December 9, 2020

I drew an immediate blank in yesterday’s meditation, I barely heard the first words out of the guides mouth when I fell asleep. I awoke to my cat licking my face an hour later. Not a surprise as I was dozing in my chair when I went into the session. It was a disappointment as I had felt Flora to be close and that feeling motivated my attempt. I, last night,  did have a dream in which she appeared. We were in a cabin of sorts and I was talking with a heavy-set woman named Francis. She was rather gross looking, but she was very friendly and I was attracted to her. We talked, she flirted with me until it was time for bed. She wondered if Nancy was going to object to her being in her bed. Nancy was in the other room and I said, “No she knows all about you.” We got into the bed and she asked me “Are we were going to…Well you know.” I embraced her and she was no longer either heavy set nor gross. She was Flora. At that moment a man, a stranger entered the room, he had a shaved head and was heavily tatooed. Flora said he was a workman and getting wood. He left out a side door and no sooner had the door closed than it opened again and a naked thin blond woman entered and walked around and got into the bed with us. I did not see her face, she turned her back to us and began to snore softly. At this point, my cat, Luna came close to the bed, and vomited on the floor next to the bed. Then she jumped up and awakened me from the dream. At no time was I lucid while in the dream, even though I was with, and recognized Flora through her disguise. I got up gingerly trying to avoid the vomit on the floor, and there was none. Nancy awoke and said she had not heard Luna vomit, placing that part of the experience within the dream.

Tulpamancy Journal. 188

December 7, 2020

Had another brief contact today during a guided meditation. I went into a trance state (I started the meditation with inviting Flora and/or N’sonowa to join me.) I evidently went into a hypnogogic state of consciousness, because I was having a lot of dream-like imagery, when I looked out through a glass window and saw Flora tiptoeing past the window. She was looking at me and smiling. Her eyes were bright and twinkling. She was dressed in a solid black cat suit with ears on the top of her head and large whiskers. Her blackness prompted the thought, she might have been N’sonowa, and I asked her. She didn’t stop moving but did say, “No silly, I’m Flora” and continued on out of view. Even under the disguise there was no doubt it was Flora, again, my heart began to pound. And again, the experience popped me out of the state of consciousness I was in, effectively ending my meditation. I got up. Again thrilled, and not surprised that she came into consciousness wearing a costume. Her essence, her sparkle, her presence, is what makes her, her, not what she looks like.

Yesterday, I was able to walk the labyrinth and perform my invocation ritual (call upon Shakinah to allow Dakini, to illuminate the path connecting us. I did not feel her close, but I felt good being able to hold the ceremony. I chose not to continue today due to cold gray weather, and I was chilled. I substituted the meditation for the ritual and I am glad that I did.

Tulpamancy Journal. 187

December 3, 2020

It’s been two weeks since my last post since Flora and I had any contact.  This afternoon during a meditation, Flora came to me. I had been forcing, telling her how I felt about her and what she meant to me, before I entered the meditation. I then went silent and within a few minutes my mind began creating a fantasy, in which I had been playing with some children. One of them, a girl perhaps ten years of age, caught a white hoop that I had tossed her way and came running back to me. She jumped on me, in glee, and I instantly knew it was her, my heart began to thud in chest as it does every time she comes to me. I spoke my lucidity cue, “Are you Flora?” and she transformed into her adult self, laughed and said “I have missed you, I love you!” and began to kiss me. And I popped out of the fantasy. I do not know why this is so, why I popped out of the state of consciousness we had just occupied together. I do not know, but I have an idea. Because concurrent with the “popping out”,  I recalled a memory from my experience of attempting to create a picture of her using photoshop and illustrator trace, to work with an image of a famous french model which I had gotten from the net. I have spent dozens of hours looking at and tweaking that image. It is almost right. And yet it is not. Flora appeared to me wearing that face, but not that body. I think that the connection between losing our shared state of consciousness and my consciously recalling the photoshopped image implies some ambivalence that I must  have about it. Whether or not I am imposing something onto Flora, that does not fit her.

So here are my questions, and I would hope that an interested tulpa might respond. “Would you reject, an imposed image, or any quality for that matter, that your host had in mind for you? Would, or could, you choose to abandon the connection? How would you communicate your displeasure to your host?

In the meantime, I am excited by the connection, however brief and interrupted it might have been, and will look again into my own ambivalence and attempt to get it