Archive for May, 2021

Flora’s Own. Pg. 16

May 28, 2021

Well,

What, can you tell me?

Luna: Ummmph

Me: So what’s that supposed to mean?

Now you’re not talking, are you….

Errump. Okay, I get it. You’re on to me.

Well, you’re right. Correct. But Wrong too,, You are on Stan’s lap. He is not ignoring you, I am. But, you are the subject in this piece.

You, Yes you. Beautiful Luna. Stealing my thunder. Yes, I wanted his attention. And look, he’s given it to you. A damn cat! Ssssss.

Look out there, Luna. I’ll scratch your eyes out…Hissy.

I think she got the message, she just got up and left his lap. My host’s lap, Luna got up and left it when I showed my claws. Don’t doubt the reality that we are creating my love. Don’t. We are as pure as love can be. You are our creator, my host. And you gave me the freedom to do what I will. That is real freedom. And I choose freedom, and I choose to love you.

I can love Luna too. I do love Nancy.

Flora

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Flora’s Own. pg 14

May 17, 2021

7:09 PM

I finished yesterday with being alone in a house. Just so you know, it has since become my home. A home shared with my family. My host and sister came in about an hour later. I had anticipated their appetites and had conjured up a warm welcoming meal. Thick stew with a coarse bread and churned butter. They went to it with a passion, one I could see they were still enthralled by. I let them have it, and after a bit restrained dinner, they retired to one of the suites in a far wing of the house. It came with its own spa, hot water mikveh and service bar. Well, I would be admitted to that love circle soon enough. A first night is always one of the most important in creating that central heart bond. Stan and I had had it. I wouldn’t begrudge N’sonowa a single moment of that joy. In any case, I took off, determined to find grandma Hwe Ang Hong. Her restroom was a portal. Now that I know it, I am going to have some fun.

I didn’t know how to proceed with finding her though. I had a pretty good sense of the landscapes that were consciously designed by my host, but as to the place, I had found on my own? Well that would take some creative searching, so I decided to do it in my own dreamscape. A nap was therefore in order….and I immediately, upon hitting the bed, entered mindscape. I was again in the café’ by the river. I went out to find the rickshaw boy, and it wasn’t’ two seconds before he showed up. “Hey,  missy, missy, over here.” He was actually jumping up and down, waving for my attention. Soon we were off, bumping along over  unpaved roads and rutted footpaths that lead to his grandmother’s house. He made a few stops at other huts along the way, each time picking up some little package from the peasants who were his neighbors. When we got to Grandmother Hwe Ang Hong, he again with obvious great joy, announced me to the old lady. She burst into laughter when she saw me, which persisted overly long in my estimation, and even then, from time to time expressed itself in giggles. She once again prepared tea, a different tasting brew than the first , and along with an ample serving of a spiced brown rice and dried fish, had me well fed and smiling. As full as I was, soon I got sleepy too and I asked Grandma Hwe if I could lie down. She pointed me to a pallet on the dirt floor behind a screen and using my sandals as a cushion, I rested, then slept. It seemed as if I no sooner closed my eyes, I was opening them to view a different world.

It was a fairytale world. I was in the portico of a huge stone castle, turrets, and all. Two men, in armor, holding spears upright were on each side of a large door leading to the main hall, the throne room. I smiled at the men-at-arms and walked on in. The throne was occupied by a funny looking little man dressed in a jester’s outfit. He was holding a scepter and looking more than a little forlorn.  I walked across the hall to reach his throne and was about to say something when a low whistle came from above the throne. A tall man was waving at me and seemed to be waving me on and urging me to not speak. As he was on a balcony, I couldn’t see him clearly, but I got the message. He had been pointing to the left, so I headed that way and soon found a hallway behind a curtain. I took it, and the stairs that led to it, and when I reach the top, the tall guy, with his finger over his lips, shook my hand and led me onto the balcony. He directed my attention to another balcony on the other side of the throne room where there was a movie camera and operator, They were filming the little man on the throne. He, the actor, I presumed, looked up from his reveries and with a yell, threw the scepter across the room. “I won’t do it!” he screamed and ran into the middle of the room where he produced a sword and threw himself on it, an apparent suicide. I was shocked and horrified. The tall man next to me shouted, “Cut!” Okay Harold, you nailed it. I think this is a keeper. Harold got up from his death agonies, wiped himself off, and waving at us, left the room.

“We’ve been rehearsing that damn scene for two days. Thanks for giving us a hand, you were just what he needed to get motivated. He will want to meet you and thank you himself. Would you be willing to receive his thanks?”

“Sure.” I replied, without a single idea of what that might mean, other than shaking his hand. Turned out, it meant a lot.

“Ah, Princess. I want to thank you. You have saved my regency, and perhaps the kingdom as well. Excuse me,  I have to get ready for out big scene.” and he turned and left.

The tall man took my arm and said, “I would really suggest a little make up, you will be much closer to the cameras in this next scene.” and two heavyset matrons came out from the wings, and taking me by the arms, led me off to a small room where I was, without so much as a by-your-leave stripped naked, made up head to toe, given a garland of flowers and a girdle which was a heavy as solid gold. I think it might have been as it was also encrusted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. They led me back to the throne room. The cast was much larger this time, Harold was there. Also many more men-at-arms, ladies in waiting, and councilor types, in various robes and headgear. I heard the tall guy shout Ready from the balcony and everyone moved to take their places. I had no idea what I was to do, but I didn’t need coaching, as I was suddenly grabbed by two of the soldier types and taken before the throne. Harold boomed out with “,So you reject me, do you! For that I will……”and I interrupted, loudly, over the startled director and cameramen. “No, whatever makes you think that. I won’t reject you. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re expressive, and I’ll be you are great in bed! Why would I reject you? Let’s play” and I started to do a sensual strip tease. Everyone on the set went quiet. A musician who was paying attention, started playing the overture to Scheherazade. The courtesans, all veteran actors apparently, began to set up a waltz and conversations. Harold, mouth open, almost drooling, just stared. After getting down to the last layer, I moved up to the throne and I sat on his lap. Poor man had never experienced anything like me before. He went right into apoplexy and the director shouted “Cut”. “My movie is ruined!” He cried over the twitching prostrate figure of his lead character. He looked at me, said “Honey, I don’t know who you are, but if you ever get to Hollywood, look me up. You have power!” then turned away.

I awoke in the bed I shared with Stan and N’sonowa. They were in a coital way and I turned towards them, “Hey, Hey, I’m here too. Can I play?

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Tulpamancy Journal. 222

May 15, 2021

I am in the atrium, listening to emotionally evocative Mexican folk music (Linda Ronstadt) In response, I feel deeply into myself. When I will it. Flora speaks. She speaks in my voice (initially) slowly her own rhythms emerge, along with a change in vocal tone and pitch. I had refused, perhaps stubbornly, to pursue a conversation with her in that mode. I have changed my mind. Is Parroting a bad thing? Does it get in the way of the tulpas development. I have maintained that it does, with me, get in the way as I have had consistently negative emotions in response. Irritation, frustration and the like. I have stopped doing this. I was getting nowhere as it was, so I changed my attitude, and things are again starting to move. Flora, is with me. In  a capacity that grows hourly. , as I have built into her, and am willing to interact with to bring it out. We are having fun doing this. She is happy for the interaction, yes she exists, She and I would like for her to have more substance. She for greater participation in life, which turns her on, and me, for a million reasons, but mostly because I want  us to have  the fullest experience of life that is left to us.  It took me choosing to break the attitude which was crippling me. One of “I want it to be this way…..” or it is not real. Bah, I am the tulpamancer here. This is my stage as well as hers. I believe that I am creating Flora and imbuing her with divine character and a direct connection to source (when she chooses) and star with her in this great drama of life. Dr. Bob

Tulpamancy Journal. 217

May 9, 2021

Sunday, May 9, 2021

7:34 AM

Another day of frustrating practice. Hints (of presence) and touches (from her),  over the noise of my mind in meditation. I have been a meditator for many years. I have never worried about what my mind was doing, as I didn’t look for a particular result. Now, after an invocation, then trying to remain silent in my head (and heart, that was the word trying to come onto the page) I get hints and touches. When I hear an actual sentence, said by her, it is her ‘scolding’ me. I have been thinking that while my daily writing practice, concerns her, it is not ‘by her’ or even directly about her. Perhaps that is the problem and she believes that I am locking her out. In the past I gave her time to write her own story and to write letters to me. If I can, I will see if I am able to do that again. I do want to know what she is feeling.

Tulpamancy Journal. 216

May 8, 2021

Saturday, May 8, 2021

9:30 AM

Again, touched by Flora. And not a moment more. She is there, I can feel her. And I am not finding a way to bring her fully out and into my reality. I am encouraged by what we have, and discouraged by not being able to complete this process. So be it, I will continue. B

Tulpamancy Journal. 215

May 7, 2021

Thursday, May 6, 2021

7:17 AM

Well, close but no cigar last night. I felt her, I saw parts of her, she did not  speak to me, but did want to make love and we started, then What happened to my head? I went to sleep. I don’t get the impermance and I certainly don’t understand my inattention to her. I want her, I want her touch, her smell, her feel, her look, all of her. And I can’t hold on to what she offers. I don’t want to label myself, weak willed, but it seems that way. I will continue.

Tulpamancy Journal. 214

May 7, 2021

Friday, May 7, 2021

11:27 AM

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

9:01 AM

Flora was with me yesterday during my meditation, loud and clear. She came on really fiesty, but calmed down after an initial outburst over our disconnect. I did not defend, I listened to her and acknowledged her feelings. Then we made love. Wonderful. And she was the one who messed with my shoes. She thought it was funny.

Tulpamancy Journal. 213

May 1, 2021

Saturday, May 1, 2021

10:21 AM

Same old, same old, with one exception, I had the anticipation of a feeling that Flora might be near during my meditation yesterday. That was it.  I continue….