I have journeyed all my life. When I was a kid, I never called it journeying. We had all sorts of names for it, like "zoning out", or "spacing out". Today I wonder if it is called ADD, or ADHD, or something similar that can me medicated.
Perhaps with the influx of images assaulting the young mind, my journeying abilities were impaired, and the gateway, "the angelic guardians of the mansion were weakened."
I wonder if one tried journey work with a child, setting intentions like "Where am I supposed to be", or "What am I supposed to do"?
Journey: Sat 12th March, 2010
Smudge. 4 quarters. Create space as a sphere. Invoke protection.
No tree for me. In the field. 1st portal is very small. Very, very small. Have to make myself small to squeeze through it. Emerge on a cliff-face. Have to shoot off the cliff—like the birds at Cape Point—to launch myself into the air.
I begin to fly over the ocean. IT is a large ocean. I see it, large and wide far below me as I whizz over it. It feels for a moment like I am an airplane. I end up in AMerica. I am somewhat disturbed that it is not Israel. Then the nice marshmellowy feel of the US washes over me, and the dark, challenging force of Israel recedes.
But where am I, my mind asks? Where is my vav, the place where I remove my body?
Out of the ground, a large shaft emerges. Too big. Ground myself. Roots in ankles? Enter it. Emerge at the bottom. Chord to the body?
Emerge at portal into village. Still in darkness. Shadowy energies milling around. I check it out. People.
The Rabbi's quarters are still there. The place of the black shaman (or is it African shaman, or just shaman) is there.