No more death

This post is a follow-up to the theme in last post – about the lying voices in the night that easily convince me they are real and important to listen to….


I opened one of my Crazy-stories-books randomly – and see what I found: a story with this voice described as the sad vulture Sully. Here it is. Appropriately named:

52  no more death

Across the biblical sky, there is a light-beam. It has lend its kind light to Abednego, Sully the Sad Vulture – and Mary my Mary. Strangely enough, they are not aware that they are made of light – still trance like emerged in the dream of bodily existence.

The light-beam hums. One time. Two times. And Abednego and Sully both turn around, believing it is the other who hums.

“What?” “It wasn’t me!” they say in chorus. Then Sully points to a faint light-contour: Mary. They still can’t see her in all that light – but he feels a hope now, in his vulture-chest, and starts to cry.

Mary sits down – looks into Sully’s eyes, and silently lets him know that she is there. -He lets out his frustration that Abednego just won’t die, and he has nothing to eat – naaathing!

Abednego talks to Mary too: “He wants me dead! That hurts my heart, I want to be his friend! I cannot die for God’s sake, I am Abednego, who was thrown in the fire-hole with my friends by king Nebuchadnezzar – and was unharmed!”

“And where are your friends now, hah” says Sully – “some friends I say, leaving you here in the desert with me, not so big friends, huh!”

Now the grounds rumbles. Giggles, farts…it’s Carmichael, the grass-being, spreading out as far as they see: “Desert, huh! I think not!”

Mary lays herself down on the silky grassy ground, and starts to hum silently, “Pop Goes the Weasel”. That sets Carmichael off again, he farts again – but it smells like fresh soil after rain, so fresh and invigorating. “Well” says Abednego – “what are we doing here together? I will never be food for Sully – and he needs to eat!”

Carmichael giggles: “ He just needs to realize that he has to give up his vulture-ways” he says, and his grassy enormous belly rumbles friendly. Sully says “I will not give up my vulture-ways – I am awesome and dangerous and star in many scary movies – the world will be so boring without me!”

Mary starts to sing the Marseilleise, and that gives him some fire: he starts to hack ferociously in the ground, and happens to hit upon a juicy rain worm. Before he knows it, he has swallowed it.

“Yikes! No!! Unwrotten food, how disgusting!” But something inside let’s go and breathes out the vulture-thing…maybe he can be Solomon, the great hacker, instead?

In this moment, when there is no more use for Sully, the light takes over, and  Solomon happily adjusts to his new life as worm-hacker.– Abednego and Mary travels on together, always singing new songs, right now “frère Jacques, dormez Vous” – no more believing in deserts and death.



The Soft Aurora is waiting

In the night, the Right Mind said: “It is not I who see this ( pain, fear etc.) in this way.”

And I was right HERE.

This Voice is exquisite: always peaceful, calm, soft. Never insisting that things are important. I immediately relaxed and allowed myself to sense how the energies moved when I was not identified with them. The fear-energy was still sitting in the chest like  an amorphous etching blob, but I did not believe in its reality.

Fell asleep. Dream.

In the back-yard of my dream house, there is a huge space/area of golden orange – pink-light.

  There are no blocks forward – if I start walking, the Self will softly take me into itSelf.

But on both sides, there are the usual world-landscapes – with houses, trees, people and THINGS.

And my neighbor now comes rushing into my yard, she is jumping like a crazed person, yelling that there is an invisible sniper who wants to shoot her and us.

In the dream, I hastily retreat to my old house/home – but when I wake up, I recognize my neighbors belief as ego’s fear of Love – of Truth – of Self: walking into that unending beauty would obliterate it.

In the dream, I hastily retreat to my old house/home – but when I wake up, I recognize my neighbors belief as  my ego’s fear of Love – of Truth – of Self: walking into that unending beauty would obliterate it.

The path ahead is free of limits. When I look to the sides, however, I am looking  into all the worldly things arising – and all the old ways of interpretation of “reality” comes into play.

Will I soon stop believing them altogether? Have I had enough maybe?



After writing this, I visited the D.U-group ( Disappearance of the Universe-group, studying the Course and Gary Renard’s books.) There was a post by my friend Andrew…who is following this blog – AND who just wrote, THIS day:  A DAWN INSIDE.

Please note that nothing written here is intended as medical advice. Readers who think that they need help with a physical or psychological condition are advised to seek a qualified opinion.

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