Pymander Aquarian

Alan Watts on KQED National Educational Television (PBS) in 1959 and 1960 the animated images are links to the internet archive where you can view the video, and/or download the video in any of various formats. If you're wondering what I mean by "animated images" and there are apparently grey rectangles below, you're probably on your phone. Sorry about that, check this post out on a real computer sometime. ;) In the meantime, click one of the grey rectangles. 1. Man and Nature 2. Things and Thinks 3. Time 4. The Void 5. The Silent Mind 6. On Death 7. Recollection 8. Queries and Sources This one is apparently only available through something called . I haven't signed up for the thing myself, but if you do please let me know how it was, and if you know of another source for this video please let me know. Otherwize: here it is . 9. Pain 10. Nonsense This one, also, is apparently only available through something called . I haven

(the white bold font is Andrew, the grey italics the students at his house in Hollywood Hills that night ) Just to find out: who has something to tell me about the work of these weeks? You have something. OK. Start this way, then. Tell me. After focusing very hard on dropping the saliva into the Chi, and then bringing it up to the pineal gland, I can't sustain intense pineal gland meditation. I mean after about ten minutes of that it gets almost unbearable, yet during that time of focus, I'm able to get more and more to a point of an unwavering emphasis and focus on the pineal gland, and even though for just a few minutes when I'm done with that I have an immense feeling of satisfaction. Do not bring it back to the pineal gland. You said last week After you ... No. Leave it there. It will go by itself, when the golden light will blend with the white light. But this is far from being the moment. And it must not be pushed. This is a very delicate operation; let t

Very interesting article here .

With special thanks to whoever that is. (I've a very similar one over my heart)

When I was growing up, in the morning my dad would meditate. As an adult I know I should clarify: he performed this particular "meditation", or exercise, or... I'm inclined to say "devotion". When I came of age and I was curious enough, I would sit with him for the beginning: "Auuuummmmmmmmmm". Then I would laugh and run away, and decide that my dad's word may be "Aummm" but my word is "Chah-kunnnngggg". Later, perhaps around 1984 after the divorce was put into process and I'd visit dad on weekends, and my ability to sit still on occasion began to develop, at the age of five, up in Sierra Madre Canyon, 81 Vista Circle Dr, in the master bedroom, at the window in the southwest corner of the room, facing westward out the window toward the back yard and the view of the canyon from up there, we would sit - he in front, me behind. The old Chinese dresser to our left, his bed (mattress on floor) to our right - the restroom

I highly recommend this article , especially if you, like me, had never heard of Tom Morton before. Py

The phantom path Wandering through The chaparell Of flesh Or flesh itself Bulldozed Dragon lines Sovereign ends Serving nothing Young eric says Pay more attention To the finger (pointing at the moon) laughter’s screen hurt more cruel than pain overwhelming distinctions unworked at the core a hole where total is not complete acephalic volcano energies without direction overcoming the subordination of opposites only in anguish at the summit of morality broken and tormented evil burst out from the headless summit energies without limit unite beings wandering in vichy france after TB devolved in non-religious mysticism extreme yearning independent of goals or god or boundries looking for language in the unbearable tearing limit of the possible christ’s torment surpass god love drawn toward inescapable torment establishes fellowship individual integrity is torn apart by guilt the evil

sunset i climb to worship the valley of the shadow the pedaled rose as the sun dies gold and black great knees and thighs wide open rise bush aflame speaks a vortex of power we hold the portal open in balance barely touching and not we rise on the planes the veil of paroketh melts to stars and city lights we hover barely breathing as the hounds and owls creep out we're unseen and unseeing warped in white light the final distillate in a mist time divides dimensions multiply as solution's room expands and knots untie personality reified and disappears the orgasm flattens like a desert road across the abyss to the sea of binah death and birth sanctified and sacrificed as we fall upward beyond nozen '200 0

the reading is from: YaHoWah!

Is it, then, possible to celebrate the union of Heaven and Earth in a religion which has consistently held that sexual love is disgusting? Not only disgusting, but profoundly sinful except between married couples for the sole purpose of reproduction. One must be careful of jumping to superficial conclusions in trying to understand Christian attitudes to sex. For there is a sense in which Christianity is the religion about sex, and in which sex plays a more important role even than in Priapism or Tantric Yoga. In any Christian milieu the subject of sex is extremely touchy; it is what embarrasses most easily, what is surrounded with the most rigid rules of conduct, and what arouses the most unintelligent emotions. This indicates not only a deep preoccupation with sex, but also the direction in which we must look for basic understanding of Christianity as a whole and the mystery that lies at its heart. On the surface, almost all forms of Christianity seem to be militantly prudish