Theosophy and The Occult: Part II-Bearing the Fruit

In 2004 I joined a message board entitled, Unknown Country. It was a take off of Whitley Streiber's UFO encounters and his popular book, Communion, which was turned into a movie starring Christopher Walken. Little did I know it would truly take me beyond the unknown and into territories I'd rather not explore.

Up until the Fall of 2007 I thought I'd been the unwilling victim of alien experiments. That sounds really absurd in my current frame of mind. I had read every book I could get my hands on regarding UFO's and aliens. From an early age I truly believed that E.T.'s existed and that they were here to benefit humanity. I came to see many years later that this was a clever game at my expense. This was no fault of my parents. They simply didn't know what I was reading. I'd retire to my room for hours on end, placing signs on my door, requiring total privacy. High school, for the most part, was me exploring Theosophy, Extraterrestrials, and "meditating". I didn't know what path it would lead me down.

From my basis with Theosophy I developed a love for power, thinking it would lead to some great spiritual evolution (read part one of this series). If I could think it, so shall it be. I thought I could control every scenario presented to me. But that turned out to be woefully inaccurate. The first few serious boyfriends I had were a representation of this. I tried to mold them, controlling every aspect of the relationship. It worked...for a while. Then the clay began to unravel. When that occurred, the master mason, didn't like the results. I eventually married but kept my domineering ways.

Marriage didn't change too much and I continued my quest down, what I call, the power path. I joined multiple message boards. I conversed with the operators of those boards, like Jim Marrs, and Whitley Streiber. I even contacted Uri Geller one time thinking the spoon-bending magnifico would impart some of his knowledge. His response was lackluster and I was left craving something more. I thought these, more knowledgeable people, could lead me to something better.

I started to have nightmares. I did not equate my dabbling into the New Age or occult fields as contributing to my often chaotic nights. For a time it actually drove me further into my New Age studies. I started dabbling in Wicca, thinking I could do spells to drive away the entities that plagued me at night. The situation only became more tenuous. In the summer of 2007 I was having nightmares for a month straight, actually waking up and screaming at night. I could feel the presence of something in my room on more than one occasion. I had a very vivid encounter of being taken beyond the stars to a place where giants lived. It was a long encounter and it came to be understood that these were the Nephilim from the old testament in the Bible (I may present a blog about that encounter at a later date).

As time progressed I became more desperate. Obviously turning to the New Age movement or Wicca had not worked. But, alas, salvation, appeared. It's hard to describe unless you've been drawn back from the brink. I remember reading in bed one night in September of 2007, while my husband slept peacefully, and just dreading going to sleep. I would read as long as possible and then try to get some shut eye before work. Instantly a thought popped into my head, "Why don't you ask God for help?" I had not talked to God like that in a long time. For years I labeled myself as an Agnostic, brainwashing myself into believing aliens had created us based on the texts of Jim Marrs (who I still respect in some ways), and Zechariah Sitchin.

The thought began to form that maybe these aliens were not really otherworldly at all. I began to dwell upon the possibility that they were sent by a dark and malicious force to trick us into believing that God did not really create us. The ultimate deception by the one who would want to rule us. I had tried everything else (including Ambien and Lunesta which gave me hallucinations and chest pains), so I thought what the heck and asked God to help me sleep. To my astonishment I slept that night and many nights after that.

Ever since that September I have been forging a new relationship with God and I have come to accept Jesus as the guy who pulled me away from the edge of a very dark abyss. I have seen God work miracles in my life and the lives of my family and friends. I still struggle spiritually and during those times I am more prone to nightmares. But it's usually God telling me I've got to straighten out another wrinkle I didn't realize was there. I do not have near the experiences I did when I was ignoring God.

When I asked him for help that night it was sort of a half-hearted, "yeah we'll see what happens". Some may argue it was the power of my own suggestion. Not to be too prideful, but my mind is far too over-analytical to ever trick myself into anything. If you know me you'll probably be nodding your head at this point. If there are others who struggle at night or have these odd experiences it may be worth a shot to simply ask God for help. He loves and wants to help us and he doesn't give up easily. I am a testament to the years he has spent waiting for me to come around.

I'll leave you with this verse:
And he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. And he said to the vinedresser, ‘Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?’ And he answered him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put on manure. Then if it should bear fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’” Luke 13:6-9.

America: Post 9/11

The End of the Innocence
By: Don Henley

Remember when the days were long
And rolled beneath a deep blue sky
Didn't have a care in the world
With mommy and daddy standin' by
But "happily ever after" fails
And we've been poisoned by these fairly tales
The lawyer dwelt on small details
Since daddy had to fly

But I know a place where we can go
That's still untouched by men
We'll sit and watch the clouds roll by
And the tall grass wave in the wind
You can lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair fall all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end of the innocence

O'beautiful , for spacious skies
But now those skies are threatening
They're beating plowshares into swords
For this tired old man that we elected king
Armchair warriors often fail
And we've been poisoned by these fairy tales
The lawyers clean up all details
Since daddy had to lie

But I know a place where we can go
And wash away this sin
We'll sit and watch the clouds roll by
And the tall grass wave in the wind
Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair spill all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence

Who knows how long this will last
Now we've come so far, so fast
But somewhere back there in the dust
That same small town in each of us
I need to remember this
So baby give me just one kiss
And let me take a long last look
Before we say goodbye

Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair fall around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence

Theosophy and my Journey Into the Occult (Installment 1)

Fifteen years ago I came across a book that would lead me into a never-ending warren of twists and turns. What looked to be a way out, mired me further into this maze. In true Carroll and Orwellian fashion, left was right, up was down, and the answers I sought were not to be found (sorry couldn't resist the rhyme there). It took me ten years to realize that the carrot was on a string.

It began innocently enough, as most things do, on a Sunday trip to Barnes and Noble. It's odd how some moments remain etched in your mind, possibly to serve as a reminder. It was a beautiful, sunny, winter day. I've always loved reading and I was quite content to roam the aisles. Searching the bargain section I came across the books on religion and new age philosophy. My eyes scanned over the requisite books on Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, until they rested on an obscure title, Theosophy: Wisdom of the Ages. Of course to my adolescent mind a book promising, of all things, the wisdom of the ages was too good to pass up. It was also suitable for my fifteen year old budget. I left, happy with my purchase, and not knowing what I had truly bought that day.

For the fortunately uninitiated, I'll give a synopsis of Theosophy. Essentially it's a philosophy that believes in an evolution of the spirit. Doesn't sound so bad, right? However, it's also rooted in Social Darwinism (survival of the fittest/natural selection) and some have accused this ideology of being the basis for the holocaust. Coincidentally their membership was at its peak in conjunction with the rise of the third reich.

It was founded by a woman named Helena Petrovna Blavatsky. She claimed to receive messages from ascended masters who influenced her writings. Here is where their philosophy begins to break down. They encourage a universality of religion and that essentially there are no boundaries. We are all one, good and evil doesn't really exist, etc...That's all good and well except that there is a hierarchy in place. She is receiving messages from ascended masters. The best analogy I can give is a leveling game or a fraternal organization (I play World of Warcraft and this analogy is not meant to offend but rather to demonstrate).

Systems, like Theosophy, WoW, or fraternal organizations, depend on titles, obtaining the next goal or level, and unlocking withheld knowledge (gear in the case of a leveling game). Humans are a curious lot in that they like to elevate themselves above their fellows. Whether it's having a nicer car, brand name clothes, or having the latest gadgets and gizmos. Even in a game we like to think we've got the best stuff or the highest skill level. I'm working on my archaeology in WoW and when I max out that skill it'll probably be fairly satisfying for about two minutes. In fraternal organizations its gotta feel pretty good to be called a Supreme Knight or an Exalted Ruler.

Similar principles apply in Theosophy. Although they claim a oneness for humanity not everyone is on the same level. I'm sure a rep for the Theosophical society could concoct some answer for me on that one. There are seven bodies that you can progress through. In the seventh body you become everything and nothing, free of the chains of this planet. But I'm pretty certain they still have to use the toilet like the rest of us. Again maybe a rep could contact me and explain how an evolved person's bowels work.

Snarkiness aside, there is no end game. Is the level cap in WoW 85 right now? Sure it is. But does that mean you are done at level 85? Or are there dungeons to grind and an endless list of achievements. If you obtain the title of Master Mason why would you still keep going to meetings? Or are there promises of more esoteric knowledge and maybe degrees unknown to the public or even other masons. I operated under this fallacy for a number of years, seeking to be more human than human. The whole forty six & 2 bit. In the next installment I will discuss how Theosophy led me into the occult and what happened as a result of that journey.

Life and Everything Fried that Comes With It.

When I started this blog it was intended to keep me writing occasionally throughout the summer. Nothing worse than starting a new semester when you haven't written a thing for months. It was also to be a lighthearted commentary on my life and life in general. Hence the name, the looking glass files. Now, however, I think it's time we stepped through the looking glass for a moment.

Recently my Grandfather passed away. A slough of memories soon followed. Memories of rooms filled with cigarette smoke and something hedonistically bad for me frying in the cast iron. Conversation flowing around a kitchen table and CNN blaring in the background. Handmade birdhouses adorning doilie-covered shelves and end-tables. The candy drawer, always filled, and always accessible much to the dismay of my dentist and four molars. Trips to K-mart in Fargo, my Grandmother surreptitiously adding to her stockpile of Christmas ornaments (much to the dismay of my Grandfather).

It wasn't all fried food, candy and birdhouses. Memories of my Grandpa yelling at someone on the phone while I watched my Grandma cry. My Uncle taking his girlfriends car on a high-speed chase on Easter. Finding out that my Grandma had lung cancer and only a few months to live. Watching as her hair fell out. The same hair that I would brush for her on sleepover nights. The same hair that her daughters would dye either red or blond for her occasionally. When she was blond she was Dolly Parton, when she had red hair she looked like Ann Margaret, to me at least.

The mind's eye can contort your memories, making them more fantastic or worse than they actually were. That time period seems magical now. The moments spent with my Grandpa and Grandma have taken on a Disney-like quality. Getting up for 4:30 AM breakfast while my Grandpa got ready to drive truck for the day. Going back to sleep, then waking up for another breakfast later that morning. Now of course 4:30 AM seems like a horrendous hour to be up at but I'll take the two breakfasts.

My Grandma may not have looked like Ann or Dolly (she was better looking), most places disdain large amounts of cigarette smoke in the air, excessive amounts of sugar are bad for your teeth, numerous documents and studies try to steer you away from fried food. Knowing that now would I would do it differently? Would my small hands have not groped for whatever morsel I could dig out of that drawer, would I have not gotten up at 4:30 to get extra sleep that experts say is the key to a long life? Would I have declined to stay at my Grandparents house because they smoked inside?

All of these memories, these experiences are unique. There is nothing that could be changed without something drastically altering in me. I wouldn't change anything. I looked through the looking glass and saw the other side. No fried food, no political arguments around the table, no one lighting up a Basic. What I saw was something inhuman. A sanitized version of life that only machines and robots should experience. Give me it all. The good, the bad, the fried, the smokey, the sweet, etc...

This is dedicated to my Grandparents and the memories that they gave me. One day we'll all be together again at that big table in the sky. Certainly not a feast of saints, just regular people enjoying each others company.

Battlestar Mathematica: Update

I have vanquished my foe. I defeated Math but it was a fierce battle. It came out swinging, throwing formulas and theorems that I'd never seen before. But I countered its attack. Know thine enemy. I studied Math's every move. I was prepared for the final battle. However because I was unprepared for earlier battles I only ended up with a C in the class. But I passed and I'm thankful that I lived to tell the tale.

Balancing Act

I remember countless times watching gymnasts during the Olympics on the balance beam. They'd delicately place their bound feet upon the bar and begin a dance with (what I can only imagine as) excruciating pain if they missed a step. I've never been so bold as to contemplate doing a flip on a bar only four inches in width and four feet off the ground. In fact, the visions of me attempting such a feat end in broken limbs or paralysis. Yet each day I live life...it is a balancing act.

A few weeks ago I wasn't on a balance beam or walking a high wire above kids hopped up on cotton candy and methane from the elephant crap. I was simply walking through my house, feeling secure that both my feet were planted on the ground. Then an encounter with a doorway shattered those illusions of safety. I thought if I didn't leave the house nothing bad could happen to me. A crack to the skull, a flurried call to my Aunt (the husband was out of town), and an emergency room visit later...I found out the oak-hard way that even in your own house, you're not safe.

It's not that I don't try dangerous things once in a while. I'm not always cloistered in my house waiting for the sky to fall. I've snorkeled in the Pacific (only briefly but I did it), bicycled down the extinct volcano of Haleakala in Maui, flown across both oceans, and I took the ultimate plunge and got married to someone of Norwegian ancestry. When I was snorkeling I fully expected to look down and see Jaws swirling beneath me while Richard Dreyfus tried to shoot the mighty beast with a harpoon. I also expected the volcano to awaken from its four-hundred year slumber and make me look like Anakin Skywalker in the last scenes of the Revenge of the Sith. What I didn't expect was that I'd injure myself on a door, in my house, while still in my pajamas with happy little Scottish Terriers on them.

Every time a gymnast sets foot onto a balance beam they are trusting not only their instincts and training but the hands of fate to guide them safely through the routine. Sometimes they fall, probably when they least expect it. The beam comes flying up at their face and they lay there stunned like a fish for a few seconds. Life is like that. A beam or a doorway to the face. What is important is that I know now what a bird feels like when it truly believes they can pass through that window. The initial shock, taking in the pain, wondering what happened. I'll hold onto that experience. Life is indeed a balancing act and if you're not paying attention there are a multitude of objects creeping around, waiting to teach you a lesson.

Battlestar Mathematica

For nearly two decades I have struggled. Struggled against a faceless, shapeless entity. It has, at times, taken various guises. It's been a long blond-haired woman, a short blond-haired woman, a dark-haired man, a gray-haired man. This entity has been tall, short, skinny, old, and young. Throughout its transformations one thing has remained a constant. It's unbridled, consuming hatred for me. The enemy I speak of can subtract, it can negate, it can add, it can multiply and divide at will. This is a battle of epic proportions. Math is its name and dividing me into equal parts is its game.

When I was a wee lass Math was just another subject to endure as I waited for the end of the school day. I treated it with ambivalence and that was the first of many mistakes. I didn't realize that at the age of 30, as I tried to finish my degree, it would come back with a vengeance.

In 8th grade I remember the first blow Math dealt me. It was a sucker punch to the gut. Miss T. (those who were there will remember this particular mistress of pain) had called on me to complete a problem on the board. Nervously I approached the inky blackness. The streaks of white on the board took on the forms of the Tolkien Ring-wraiths. The room was spinning as I shakily grasped the chalk in my awkwardly pubescent fingers. I was wholly unprepared for this battle and Math knew it. Pun intended...it had my number. It ended quickly. I failed and returned to my seat. The walk of shame.

The second encounter with my eternally-bound nemesis occurred but a year later. Ninth grade saw me put into what Math's minions termed as pre-algebra. This time Math sent someone who would finish the job. Mrs. F's reputation preceded her. She was known for anything from yelling at students to throwing textbooks. I prepared as best as I could. I suited up and rode in. What I endured that year I still cannot talk about. To this day I can only recall images of a snarling face and the screams, the screams still echo in my mind.

Now I find myself facing an old enemy. It seems determined to break me. It is one of about 5 classes I need until I can consider myself a holder of an English (with an emphasis in writing) degree. Math has evolved yet again into a middle-aged man from a country of unknown origins. Sometimes he sounds Arabic and sometimes I sense a mixture of Pakistani and Russian. It matters not where he comes from but that he too will try to layeth the smacketh down on me. It will try to square my root and hold my feet to the fire of truth tables. Math may have won the battles but this time I am determined to win the war.