seeking_brilliance

I haven't read that story but it sounds interesting ?

You can try doing this with writing - - create a lucid daydream where you embody a false self and then literally write it out of your life.

Crystals are good objects to channel your focus, energy, intent, will, etc, into. And like someone else said, they look pretty and if you do a trataka meditation on one, you get the added benefit of color therapy.

Flash fiction based on the picture: The Mistake Grief stricken, I roamed the brick-lined corridor, under the domed archways of Mcgowan's School of Magicks. The arches stretched on forever, until curving away and out of sight. Ah it was such a lively place when I attended. Mcgowan's was the most prestigious school of the arts in all of Avonli. Now it was indefinitely closed, and it was all my fault. The memories flooding in were overwhelming: Under these arches was where I learned my first spell; had my first kiss with Margeritte, and my second with Kian. I remembered playing magicka under the arch with the yellow star graffitied on the side. This was where my group of friends congregated to groan about professors, practice spells, or invent wildly creative pranks against the Black Vipers-- an unruly gang of mostly fifth years who thought they owned the place. We had decided it was time to even the odds. I had just learned to open a portal in advanced physicks, and was certain I could pop them over to the Artic for an hour or two, just when we knew they were planning a rather devastating raid on the school's supply pantry. One of our friends was sister to a Black Viper who had a loose mouth-- well, loose everything if you ask me... I had the measurements ready, the perfect icicle wand to celebrate the occasion and the memorized incantation to open the portal. However, old-alchemic language was not my strong suit and who could have known the word for 'everyone' was so similar to the one for Viper? Months later, I roamed the desolate halls of the school, searching for any incantation to correct my mistake. Except I couldn't read the more powerful spells written in old-alchemic. I left for the city of Carpendale to find an interpreter.

(Another writing prompt exercise. please see the picture first) Sophia's Search When Sophia was a little girl, she lived in a world quite similar to our own. It was the type of world which took any appearance it desired, or emoted; and our world and all others existed within hers. There, the planets were like beach balls dangling in a twinkling ocean of infinity. Her parents were king and queen to this strange realm, and little Sophia inherited their abilities to oversee all of the worlds and realms. It was they who guided the hands of Earth's cavemen in conquering their fear of fire; and brandishing the ever-evolving wheel which propelled industrialism. They who turned the tides of the Americans against their English masters; and who guided that young country through each and every time it repeated the mistakes of its forefathers. Queen Clara particularly enjoyed her involvement in the romance entertainment industry, with her guiltiest pleasure being the scandalous but addicting Outlander series. But that's a long story for another day, and this correspondence can only hold a thousand words. I do hope it reaches you, young one, in a timely manner. Anyway, the king and queen became so enthralled with their incessant gardening, that they began to forget poor Sophia and ignore her into the nanny's care. The child continuously vied for her parent's attention; but they soon began to ignore her completely, not even looking away from their many worlds over which they ruled with a green and mighty thumb. One morning, little Sophia awoke to find her parents quite fixated on their masterpieces in such a depth that they had become frozen; eyes open and faces blank, trapped in a prison of their own dreams. Not even the smell of sun-roasted dragon wing, another guilty pleasure shared by both, could lure them from their zombic slumber. Plus, the servants were too afraid to poke their majesties, or to yell loudly in their presence. Alone and broken, Sophia embarked on a half-baked quest to find someone, or something-- anything that could bring her parents back. She longed for the days when mother and father bounced her joyfully on their knees, back when it was easy to take a needed break from tireless creation. She tied a long piece of twine to each of her favorite worlds and carried them like balloons in one hand; a lightly packed suitcase in the other. Princess Sophia traveled the shifting lands of Whithernary, in search of a power great enough to break the spell. You must find her.

(Please look at picture before reading. This was a writing exercise where the story is inspired by the picture.) What Lies Beyond On my twelfth birthday, papa took me to the Window of Light. It was a huge squared opening at the end of our dwelling's cavern, and all of us Po'pi must go and peer into the light before starting work in the fields. So we carried our small canoe to the edge of the grassy meadow, and launched it into the dark lake separating the land from the gigantic window at the end of the cavern. It was early morning and a golden glow had just begun to flood the squared stone walls; and as we jumped into the canoe, a young doe which had been drinking from the cool water raised her head in alert and then pranced away--- back toward home as we rowed our way to the edge of our world. The light sparkled in the dark ripples the canoe made during its slow passage; and had a particular warmth to it that reminded me of fire, but didn't burn. The closer we got, the window grew ever larger. We were but ants in the massive golden frame as our canoe landed against a rocky shore on the other side. Papa tied the canoe to an old weathered post; and directed me toward a steep set of winding stairs which ascended the cliffside, etched out of the cragged boulders. He said I must go alone, and that he would be here for me when I returned. With a deep breath and a comforting squeeze on my shoulder from a loving father, I climbed the stairs toward the great window until it encompassed all of my view and I could see no else, save the winding path of steps leading ever closer. My heart was pounding as I reached the summit, and all tiredness in my legs dissolved in the full blast of the warm, golden light. I don't know how long I stood there, as time seemed to slip away and became a distant memory. I just looked and looked, not really sure what I was looking for; yet I looked on, enthralled by the hypnotic glow of the great Window. As I peered deeper, it seemed as if an image was forming. Slowly, it materialized, until I could clearly see a young boy similar to my age, and he was nearly as tall as the massive golden frame. He was in some sort of room and was hunched over, holding a black rectangular box in his hands. "Is this thing working?" I heard him say. His voice was strange, like coming through a sheet of water in the midst of an echoing cave-- the voice of God as the elders typically described, although I never understood where they had heard it until now. "Come on, I just turned this thing on… MOM!" "Hello?" I called out, though in a bout of bravery or fear, I can never tell you. "Oh, there it goes," the Boy said, "took you long enough. Can we start playing yet?" "What?" I called out, not understanding his meaning. The Boy's thumb flicked a small grayish pike extending from the box in his hands, and I decided to walk left along the screen, perhaps to get a better view of his surroundings. Heaven was a strange place, with many unrecognizable things- though I could clearly see what was meant to be a bed, a place to hang his clothes, and a wooden door which closed off what must have been a bedroom. I was looking into God's bedroom. Amazing. "I said I want to play now," the Boy replied in a supreme whine, and I felt the sudden urge to run along the screen in the other direction, jumping and skipping and kicking rocks. Odd behavior sure, but we all do strange things when nervous. The Boy rolled his eyes-- "If this doesn't load in five seconds I'm getting a refund. Hey avatar! Did you hear me? I... will... DELETE you!" "I hear you, God!" I cried out, crawling along the jagged cliff on my belly-- which hurt quite a lot, I recall. "Anything you ask I will do." "Of course you will," he replied with a snort. "That's what this thing is for" He flicked the small pike again while I ran around in a small circle. "I swear I don't know why they gave them A.I. in this one... its just a farming simulator. And its so dumb, too, like it was born yesterday." "I was born twelve years ago, my Lord," I called in correction, finally feeling myself again and standing still in the middle of the window. "No, dummy, I made you like six minutes ago… seriously I will delete you if this game does not pick up quick…" I never quite understood everything the divine Boy told me that morning in the Window of Light, but I worked hard for Him in the fields and deep mines for the rest of my life; even until it was time to take my own child across the morning-kissed lake and up the steep winding steps to peer into the void of our mighty creator. Unlike my father, I told him what to expect; and the clever child went prepared with a full list of detailed and intriguing questions. I still await his return as I write this, but I couldn't be any more proud.

@Myioko @Hulia I've been visiting my mind palace just as a lucid daydream and not actively writing. Here's what I'm noting : 1: it's easier to relax into it. This has its advantages. Mostly when I visit the tree loft (without writing) I'll be in my meditation pod and so of course writing wouldn't be helpful. I'll just lay there with Sam and either think and ask him questions or zone out. 2. So I'd say that incorporating writing into the lucid daydream is more for when you want to go on an active lucid adventure and wish to have the power of authorship over the dream. I know that it's a radical idea to have authorship over a dream but you just have to experiment and experience what I'm trying to convey. It opens a few abilities that you can't get by taking the passive role of the dreamer--and still I stand by that it increases the visualization and intent/will. Great for spellcasting. (you should only cast spells on your main character btw, or ask permission of others) 3. I find myself not writing down these visits to mind palace that I'm not actively writing. To me it's better to switch back and forth, so that there's some sort of record of it. There's a power in reading it back, it strengthens the connection to Astral. Similar reason to writing down dreams, except here we have the luxury of higher recall. (or the ability to consciously author a dream.)

@Muhammad Jawad have your dreams changed?

So the poster should.... Reach a "very high level of consciousness. Or a great reduction of your ego and it’s habits" before dabbling with lucid dreaming? What would be good reasons for that?

Yeah those were fun, I don't think I finished them...

Yes I talk about this in my thread 'the human dream'

@SirVladimir Something manifested on Facebook today that (imo) perfectly sums up what you said. (even though it doesn't use the word surrender) My comments to add is that I am not peaceful, I am peace. I do not surrender, I am surrender. That's really all I can do, but the obstacles come from what I'm surrendering to. Many many times I'm surrendering to thought. To the speeding trains demanding attention. And then, sometimes.... ****************** From a Bowl of Saki, January 12, by Hazrat Inayat Khan "... It is useless to discuss the peace of the world. What is necessary just now is to create peace in ourselves that we, ourselves, become examples of love, harmony and peace. That is the only way of saving the world and ourselves. Peace is independently felt within oneself. It is not dependent upon the outer sensation. It is something that belongs to one, something that is one's own self. ... Peace is not a knowledge, peace is not a power, peace is not a happiness, but peace is all these. And besides, peace is productive of happiness. Peace inspires one with knowledge of the seen and unseen, and in peace is to be found the divine Presence. It is not the excited one who conquers in this continual battle of life. It is the peaceful one who tolerates all, who forgives all, who understands all, who assimilates all things. The one who lacks peace, with all his possessions, the property of this earth or quality of mind, is poor even with both. He has not got that wealth which may be called divine and without which man's life is useless. For true life is in peace, a life which will not be robbed by death. The secret of mysticism, the mystery of philosophy, all is to be attained after the attainment of peace. You cannot refuse to recognize the divine in a person who is a person of peace. It is not the talkative, it is not the argumentative one, who proves to be wise. He may have intellect, worldly wisdom, and yet may not have pure intelligence, which is real wisdom. True wisdom is to be found in the peaceful, for peacefulness is the sign of wisdom. It is the peaceful one who is observant. It is peace that gives him the power to observe keenly. It is the peaceful one, therefore, who can conceive, for peace helps him to conceive. It is the peaceful who can contemplate; one who has no peace cannot contemplate properly. Therefore, all things pertaining to spiritual progress in life depend upon peace. And now the question is what makes one lack peace? The answer is, love of sensation. A person who is always seeking to experience life in movement, in activity, in whatever form, wants more and more of that experience. In the end he becomes dependent upon the life which is outside, and so he loses in the end his peace, the peace which is his real self. When a person says about someone, 'That person has lost his soul,' the soul is not lost; the soul has lost its peace. Absorption in the outer life, every moment of the day and night, thinking and worrying and working and fighting, struggling along, in the end robs one of one's soul. Even if one gains as the price of that fighting something which is outside oneself, someone who is a greater fighter still will snatch it from our grasp one day. ... the first thing is to seek the kingdom of God within ourselves, ... there is our peace. As soon as we have found that, we have found our support, we have found our self. And in spite of all the activity and movement on the surface, we shall be able to keep that peace undisturbed if only we hold it fast by becoming conscious of it.~ Inayat Kahn

@How to be wise From the Gospel of Thomas 2. And Jesus said, Let the one who seeks continue seeking until what is sought is found. When that which is sought is found the seeker will be wise. Once wise, the seeker will transcend all and will attain rest and will Be at Peace concerning everything.

Think of the things you want to manifest into experience. So for example, joy. Then find a mandala which exumes joy and stick it in there.

IME there is nothing but authenticity. Even inauthenticity is Authentic in the moment.

?? I swear there's this Nahm character who produces a heart opening at least twice a week. Very convenient to keep around ?

Awesome, I like both of your tracks so far! Subscribed ?

❤️ So true. Ugh I thought I picked an easy one but with all the foliage it's still an upward challenge from the last.

Honestly I think 'the acts of decalcifying it' is merely putting a spell on your mind to visualize better, and so you do. TA-DA!

@abrakamowse i love it, but I'm like so ready to abort it ?

No separation.

Takes people watching to a whole new level ?

@How to be wise So what is enlightenment and where did you find it?

Well then write down a new ending, the one you wish to experience