Parallel stories

Dream
01-05-2004

I drive at 300 km/hr and enter a village. Extremely dangerous situation. The road is blocked off - there are road works going on - and we slow down to a 50 km/hr, fortunately. In the opposite direction a big car races up to us and flashes its red (!) headlights. Like a dragon looming up out of the darkness.

We are in the house of a seaside family, a woman with two grown up daughters. It is a small villa, in the middle of a collection of similar but bigger houses. The first floor is a little bit smaller than the room at street level - there are only two bedrooms upstairs, and the two girls have to sleep together.

The woman is breast-feeding the baby, and finds privacy around the corner. I am outside the house and ring the bell. The woman opens up - holding the baby - her breast covered with a cloth diaper. I am curious to see what she is hiding, and she shows up, eager to see me being curious.

=====

Some time later in the night I dream again. There is something with an initiation rite.

=====

Just before coming out of bed, I have a dream with renovation activities. A room has to be covered with plasterboards, and we will glue them to the old walls. The vendor gave us glass strips and glue in tubes. The strips are meant to equalize the board.

In my bed, during the night before the works begin, I try to fit one of the nozzles onto my penis, as a penis-gourd. The spout broadens and becomes a shower head full of water, and everything gets wet. The water will prevent the glue from getting stuck into the nozzle when it is squeezed out, and the shower head will spread the glue over the glass strips in one movement.

The strips are placed onto the wall, but the glue is orange colored and will be visible through the upper glass panes dressing the walls. I think a second strip will hide the glue of the firs layer, but it does not work because of the transparency of the material. The panes begin to weaken, and hang over my head - our head in fact. My lawyer in law is helping to fix the boards. A hell of a mess.

Then eventually I remember that the panes are made of styrofoam, and the transparency question is out of question. Equalizing the walls will be difficult all the way.

Free Associations
01-05-2004

Sepic flutes kanengara (aiff - file, Ref. 4)

This sacred flute music is performed to welcome young initiates to the Haus Tambaran, mens' cult house, in preparation for the Initiation Ceremony. It is played to please the spirits and in particular a spirit bird called Yangi Yat. These are the longest flutes in the world. (Ref. 4)

There are two periods, separated by initiation. Childhood and adulthood. Children on one side, man and woman in charge of caring for children on the other side.

Papua children get scars and pain to represent death of their childhood, and are reborn as proud crocodiles.

Western children are soothed with chocolate and marzipan to prevent them from growing up and become man and woman.

Initiation ritual is replaced by twenty years of initiation in the becoming of a sort of crocodile eating crocodile, every exam or whatsoever being the cause of a bump on the back. Moreover, like kittens never grow up to become wild cats catching (and eating) mice and doves, human children are learnt to beg for food and tenderness. But, because big humans beg for everything from each other, little big problems arise.

While being taught all sorts of superb pieces of information, natural curiosity is perverted to a kind of lazy resignation when fed like a goose for the fat liver, and the scars on the back degenerate to goose bumps.

Of course I don't like to return to the wilderness, and that would not be possible all the way. But. Most clients coming to see me have lost contact with their own biological feedback-system of feelings and emotions, even with the use of common sense.

And our therapeutic establishment sees disorders, instead of reactions, and deadens them down with all sorts of drugs. The wild situation on street level versus the civilized level of the first floor, neatly equalized with plaster-styrofoam- glass boards. The lawyer in law helps in the officer's mess.

Dream
02-05-2004

There is a strange dot in my visual field, moving along with the movement of my eye. It is a black dot inside my eye. On taking a closer look, the thing is a rectangle, transparent and turning around like a wheel, and when it comes to rest, it shows a strange drawing in the middle.

=====

In the morning I go to the backers' just like other people do. I wait for Lieve, but she does not show up, or I don't find her in the middle of all the others. Hundreds and thousands of people are walking through the corridor, all on their own.

One of the women looks at me, and I look back - as if we know each other from somewhere. Then I see my wife and she walks beyond... strange clothes she wears, I think.

In my search for a piece of wood, I go to the shop - VDB. In early days it was a small woodwork shop, but now it became immense, and with lots of hangars. When there should be a little fire there, in a minimum of time the whole outfit would be in flames and burn out totally.

Free Associations
02-05-2004

We have a case of virtual reality : looking at something, and seeing what is in the eye instead of reality outside. Kind of projection. The window is not colored here, but contains elements coloring perception as if we get what we want - or just what we are not expecting in reality and see in the dream. Dreams reveal what we try to hide, hold in unconsciousness.

We saw it yesterday on TV, our glass eye, in a debate about the extension of the EU. Millions of people extra in the basket. One speaker said that the rich part of the EU would suck out the newcomers. An other supposed they got an excellent opportunity with the carrot held in front of their nose, and a third told about her experience in the new countries of people feeling humiliated by the arrogance of the fat part of the continent.

Dirt farmers in Poland for example should reorganize to be allowed sending their cleansed products to the rest of the union... Nobody mentioned the possibility for us to go to Poland, because there it is still possible to run a small scale dirty farm covering the needs of the local market.

Of course we are used to myriads of cells in our body, but there we have a equilibrated social system - not brute capitalism, and if that is the case, multiple burn-outs.

Dream
03-05-2004

White hostages has been taken by wild men in the bush. The whites in the village drummed some semi-wilds up to negotiate down there. Then a dirty outlaw with a lousy dog hijacks the semi's. The tramp and his pet are hand-cuffed, dog to man. The whole bunch is transported on an army truck to the woods.

The vagrant's dog makes such aggressive trouble towards the others that both fall off the car. The transport comes to an end, because all are needed for the job.

=====

I have a client and his girl friend for a therapy session, in a glass shelter on a railway station platform. The man is in big trouble, while the woman makes light of it. That makes me angry, and I take her down a peg or two.

When they go away, I know the woman will manipulate her friend not to come back.

=====

I bought something in an industrial area, and now I walk through the long soft grass in one of the surrounding meadows. In front of me there are two factory buildings, one quite normal, the other in villa-style, with a reed-roof. Strangely enough the roof is in flames - the tent is burning off I think. Nobody bothers about it. The insurance will pay everything back.

=====

I won a small aluminum sports car, very expensive. We take it up and carry it around the corner in a narrow garage full of junk - like in an attic. An insurance agent brings in the papers, neatly in a special file, taken care of down to the last detail.

Strangely I think the car probably will never leave the garage, because of the narrow corridor in front of it, and because actually I don't need it - I already have a functional car.

Free Associations
03-05-2004

In the first part of the dream I am just an onlooker, the spectator of the film. The scene comes in the middle of the night, and when I wake up, I don't understand its confusing message.

There is a problem, somewhere in the unseen region - the unconscious bush. The person most in view is packed in. First the tramp has to solve the problem - and falls off, then the therapist in the second episode - and he is worked away, next the insurance company, eager to assure eternal safety - is swindled. At last the wild problem is hidden behind an expensive gadget - and it has no effect. The wilds walk about in the bush, up to the present day.

Dream
12-05-2004

0. We, Lieve and I, are coming out of the woods, and walk on the grass of a villa. Half of the grass is covered with icy stuff, sort of hard jelly. When we leave the ground and step over the border, I realize we were going over private land.

1. The dentist ordered a man to swallow a big two-colored (red and yellow) pill with some water. He is going upstairs and I see we are in the private living room of the store-keeper, a skinny woman who just comes out of her bed. She gives me a dirty glass with water, which I want to rinse out first, but she says it's fresh and ok. I drink it to swallow the colors.

2. I am cutting off the arm of a man, and when I am to make the final movement to finish the job, I am the one who is loosing his arm, and I wake up.

3. In my therapy room I have a couple, and talk to them. A woman with her son is waiting while the child is playing on the table with plastic toys. The boy is a little bit noisy and the woman begins to explain why. I have to calm her down and ask her to wait until she is in turn. My notebook is messy, with all this people coming on the same hour. The father of the boy is severe and authoritarian, I find out.

4. We are walking to the seaside. A boat sticks in the sand and can't move - the crew of the sailing boat are dead. Big storm on sea.

5. We are in the house of a family with beaten children, wounded. The aggressor is 'some' man. The father lays in his bed, wounded too, next to the skinny woman - they are both smoking and stinking. The police is surrounding the house.

Free Associations
12-05-2004

Two elements catch the eye: the coming in private area of somebody else and the place of 'me'. First a man should swallow colors, and eventually it's me to do it, then I saw off an arm, but it turns out to be my own arm - leaving me unarmed and awake.

All persons in the dream - kids or origines - are candidates to be or become me. I am a collection of elements possibly becoming the center of dream-consciousness: me, and the transition from one to an other is quite simple and effortless.

The areas where I can walk, come, be,... are collections of symbols, thrown together in categorized gallery compartments with a central firstling representing the rest of the cell-content, the AHA-experience installed when the place was still empty.

So now I experience twice an area forbidden for me to come - as a sort of taboo. Inhibited genes, when I compare the mind gallery with a DNA string. Places in the dreamland where walkabout origines are not yet initiated for. The forbidden halls gradually get accessible for me while the running fire (bosbrand) of dreamtime develops.

On the other hand rooms of the gallery more and more get out of use, the crew being dead in a huge storm on sea.

Beaten children I guess are knocked out genes whose loss is unacceptable for the normal progress of my organism. I get contact with them, the police is surrounding the place to liberate them... the parents (and the 'some' men) are going to have a hell of a time.

Dream
17-05-2004

Lieve is playing the organ in the church, somewhere in the vicinity of the entrance, like a reception hall walled in with glass. There are two times two pipes giving off a very strange sound, not resonating with the rest of the ensemble. We will have to repair the pairs.

I want to walk to the head of the church, where the altar is. Priests are celebrating a Mass, and the church is jam-packed. It is very hard to find my way through the chairs - only a narrow irregular corridor is left open in a side aisle. In the opposite direction two cyclists arrive, complicating the situation.

In a room or hall behind the altar, through a small door, I see people busy with mysterious activities. In the back of the tabernacle I see two small doors too, and a goblet is given in the hands of the celebrating priest on the other side of the décor.

=====

We are in a huge shop, on the seventh floor, and have to find the way out. There is no elevator, and the staircases - for each floor one - are hidden and form a sort of labyrinth. We walk in one of the corridors where we can look through holes in the floor, which is in restoration, and see the floor there under. Lights are on, and works are everywhere going on.

The office of the chief is upstairs too, to discourage tax inspectors. On our way out we get stuck several times, and have to return to look for an other passage.

=====

The above dream walkabout came after an evening with Iégor Reznikoff on TV.

I was very surprised about the strange contact between the singing man and his environment. He looks for resonance in a church or cave - responding as if he is part of a feedback system. He is also interested in consciousness: material consciousness, the normal one, and immaterial consciousness, the one that was before matter came into existence. - Perhaps there is only one consciousness, and possibly we are resonance points in space and time ?

Associations
17-05-2004

Lucette Verboven Speaks with Iégor Reznikoff
(vrt, braambos, 16-05-2004)

He is a musicologist and professor of ancient music at a Paris university (Nanterre). Nothing special, if he hadn't examined the heartbeat of premature babies. More than anybody else Iégor Reznikoff recognizes the importance of the voice and singing as a therapy. He himself uses his concerts to pray. The latter he does not only with his voice, but with his entire body. (Ref.10)

Chris Scarre
Painting by Resonance
Nature 338 (1989): 382

Did the painted caves of western Europe once resound to the music of Palaeolithic chants? Such is the thesis put forward by Iegor Reznikoff and Michel Dauvois in the latest issue of the Bulletin de Ia Societe Prehistonque Francaise (85. 238-246; 1988). The authors have studied three caves in the Ariege department at the foot of the French Pyrenees. Their results suggest that the acoustics of the caves played a significant part in determining where the paintings were located, and this observation leads directly to the supposition that music or chants were important elements in cave ceremonies around 20,000 years ago.

Reznikoff and Dauvois rely on the fact that in certain places ("points of resonance") the caves resonate in response to particular notes. They proceeded slowly through the cave using their voices to produce a series of notes spanning almost three octaves, from C to G3. They extended the range of notes for a further two octaves by harmonics and whistling. Where there was a resonance response, they recorded the location and the particular note eliciting the response. They used these observations to draw up a resonance map of the cave.

The resonance of the caves is not in itself surprising. but the significance of the study becomes apparent when the authors compare their points of resonance with the location of cave paintings. They draw three main conclusions. First, most of the cave paintings are at or within one metre of points of resonant. The Grande Salle at Portel, for example, which gave no resonance response, also has relatively few paintings. Second, most of the points of resonance correspond to locations with cave paintings. Indeed, the best points of resonance are always marked in this way. Finally, the authors claim that the location of some of the paintings can be explained only by the resonance of that particular location.

... (Ref. 11)

Dream
18-05-2004

They are working on the roof next door. It is a flat roof and not possible to see what is done - only the ladder indicates the activity up there.

From in our attic-room I see what they do: constructing a sort of bay window. It is my cousin White the carpenter. The construction he makes is rather fragile, plenty of glass and not much woodwork. In addition the bay hangs or stands over our ground and that is illegal. He destroyed the hangover of the neighbors too, but he does not bother about that because it concerns the roof of his father.

We, Katelijne, Lieve and I, will return to our own room - obviously we stand on top of the roofing, next to the glass construction, and came there through a sort of tube connecting the places - certainly not by way of the ladder. The tube or box is narrow and has to be cleaned up to let us go through, creeping across the ground in suffocating conditions.

White stands there, laughing. He reminds me our playing doctors and nurses, lays down in a sort of bed-box, gesticulating with his hands over his belly and loins. "You know what we did, eh? First the legs, then the belly and finally the part in between. You could not manage the situation eh, with all your feelings of guilt..." I am angry and will show him a thing or two with his illegal construction.

At least we, Lieve an I, are in a bakery, where three or four men are ready to serve the clients. Lieve, and all the others go downstairs to look for a suited bread. At street level I see lots of breads too, and should find all we need... Very busy business.

Free Associations
18-05-2004

Glass boxes, windows, looking glasses, sunglasses, blinders, are elements of the collection in my gallery around looking through the window at four o'clock, when aunt Yvonne came back from her work, with a strong desire to go with her, getting all attention and chocolate mousse.

The illegal construction symbolizes the splitting off from the so called past and/or feelings. We are given the illusion - most times - having the possibility to become God, with no effort and immediately. Big fair.

Spiritual bread comes from within, the resonating points in our personal caves, giving us the possibility to communicate with each other. All we have to do is standing in front of the ancient picture, and sing, listening to and feeling the answer of the other and environment.

Dream
19-05-2004

A caretaker in a huge school stands behind a counter with two baskets of plastic shells on top of it. The shells replace the tickets for the meals. I don't understand it.

The man is nervous because there are two persons coming, special cases, waiting for a severe lecture.

The first is Edith, and for the occasion she wears a special sloppy dress in several colors and with ribbons and lappets and all sorts of frills. She hangs with her legs and arms trough holes in a glass door or wall, and explains her strange behavior on the basis of her difficulties with her husband, and the neighbors nagging all the time about her little dog...

The second is a man, just as exotic as Edith, but a criminal in addition. The police comes with black dogs to hold him under control. One of the dogs growls and creeps up to the stranger. I put my finger into the mouth of the beast and feel its wet tongue. It doesn't bite me because we are friends.

Free Associations
19-05-2004

The reign of a dictator is a fascinating phenomenon. Once it starts it behaves like a fixed idea (idée-fixe), oscillating in one's head. Each time the ruler (ruling idea) is going to be criticized, the offender is killed - resulting in a louder applause from the rest of the people, giving the dictator a false feeling of safety, making him (or her) more and more nervous and shy, eager to shoot the traitors.

As if the conscious aspect of our organized collection of cells, leading to coherent activities, jumps over to a group of people, lacking the interactive structure to be successful in the long term.

Dream
20-05-2004

The bicycle repairman is doing alterations in his shop. Thereby he opened up a passage to some forgotten cavity, a Roman church built with natural stone (roughly cut out).

There is a street level part and huge stairs to the level below, there in the depth.

Just under de ceiling the walls have a ridge, as if it was a rock-path, with lots of clochards playing football, together with smaller beings, angels or birds or kids - I don't know. It is incomprehensible how they manage to hold the ball up there, and they themselves don't fall off the walls.

Associations
20-05-2004

Matthew 12:43-45

43. But when the unclean spirit hath gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth it not. 44. Then he saith, I will return to my house, whence I came out; and coming, he findeth it empty, and swept, and embellished. 45. Then he goeth away, and taketh with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself; and entering, he dwelleth there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. ¹ So shall it be also to this wicked generation. (Ref. 15)

Approximately the same text is found in Luke 11:24-26

Isolated areas in my head ...

Dream
23-05-2004

A new game has been invented. The participants have to pass through a square track. The first test or difficulty is a line made of cushion, several meters long and roughly a meter wide. A woman crawls on top of it, trying to understand the huge Chinese pictograms painted on the surface of the fabric. She slides with a stick along the lines, her body following the movement as close as possible.

In a second part tables are placed with wooden files on, filled with postcards and old books. Lots of people are searching something, and the scene reminds of a crowded bookstore.

In an opening between the tables a young girl sits on the ground and sneezes some blood-drops on the floor. She says there is a big difference between the living and the not living.

In the game it is not possible to grasp the meaning on the basis of time, I hear.

=====

A family of down-and-outers, plebs, rabble, backward people, is going to paint the living room in a sort of fluorescent yellowish-green gloss. The father has begun, but forgot to stir the paint, making watery stripes on the ceiling. I show him how to proceed. The room has several posts, like in a Chinese hall.

To manure the land of a farmer, I fill the sprayer with a sort of brown liquid - far too much for the small piece of land. The farmer does not bother about it, and shows me his tiles which he has cleaned with a high-pressure gun.

He wiped the slate clean.

Free Associations
23-05-2004

Reminds me of the game of life, the representation of what we are doing here on earth. Most games today yield a winner and/or losers, and normally the winner gets all, is given money or a prize. The survival of the fittest.

In the dream there is meaning of life to win. First, (first test) at school, we have to learn, following the lines on the blackboard and the instructions of the teacher as close as possible. The winner of the class assimilates most of the stuff, conditioning him or her to be the fittest in the survival race later on. The selection criteria are no longer determined by the elements, but social - not earthed.

Then (second test), when we are grown-up, we have to find our way through the collection of postcards and books, drawn an written by other human beings - the crowds. The selection criterion now being the deception of the other, or, the perception the others get on interpreting our cinema. The more glittering the decor, the more attention you get. The more money you have, the more glamour you can incorporate into the show. So the situation evolves into the direction of making the rich richer and the poor poorer. The first reason of life is becoming as fat and rich as possible. The survival of the fattest.

In an opening, through which we see the child bleeding, we become aware of the difference between those who live and the pretenders. For the child time is not money, but endless, meaningless.

Maslow constructed his pyramid in 1943, where self-actualization sometimes is interpreted as selfish realization... He added "Self Transcendence" later in his life, gradually, which refers to qualities of the relationships a person has with the world. What exactly it means he never formulated, so I come down the pyramid, to join the marginal fellowship, fertilizing the ground and cleaning the floor, hoping to write something sensible on my slate.

Perhaps I will turn my viewer to the survival of the fittest coherent group of self transcendent humans, coming into being because of necessity, simply to survive, giving birth to a 'higher' level of consciousness. Furthermore I don't believe it will be multinational dinosaurs to begin with.

Dream
24-05-2004

I return an old bag of Goldband plaster to the vendor, asking him for a new bag of MP75, Knauf projection plaster. The bag tends to fall crooked in my van.

I made a fence in Bekaert plastic-coated steel-wire, and I see it bends under the pressure of the wind, sweeping up and down like the fences of the neighbors, and the grass.

I reinforce the poles with steel tubes, balustrades of our Plettac scaffolding, nailed on top of the poles. Stiffer boundaries.

Free Associations
24-05-2004

Yesterday I projected manure, then water and now plaster. Projection is in the air. It is of course easy to throw shit in the fan and blow it to multinationals, by way of rejecting personal sour grapes.

As a matter of fact I have a Kärcher pressure-cleaner, used Knauf to plaster my house, and my fences are made by Bekaert, all multinationals, so, because my small personal corporation is not yet a world wide empire, (wwe), but just www, I have some reason to be jealous.

Now a scaffold in Dutch (stelling) also means a proposition. My suggestion that consciousness originates from coherent cooperation is not yet very defensible, the fences being shaky, and my feelings concerning dinosaurs not ripe and free of sourness.

Volvox under the hood again. How the devil do they manage to swim all in the same direction, as if 'it' had a sort of soul.

Dream
26-05-2004

I want to go to a party, sort of political meeting, and have a packet of clothes to get rid of. I put them in the mailbox of the prime minister - specially installed there for the time the premier delivers his speech in the town hall.

I walk down the street and see the political meetings of the different parties - each with a speaker in front of a crowd - each in a building under construction (not yet plastered and so).

I go back to collect my clothes, but the occasional mailbox has been removed, including my gear. The frame with the bolt hole grins with me.

=====

A woman is molding clay pots, with her fingers, by way of educational demonstration to her audience, a flock of small children.

A miniature pottery kick wheel is installed under the table of the woman, standing on the flywheel of the larger one, those of the woman. It is a very confusing situation because the women did not have a wheel... . I manage to sit down and turn a pot, like I did so many times in the past.

There is a scene with difficulties and shit on my toes.

Free Associations
26-05-2004

The kids or origines in my head excitedly meet to determine the guidelines, find the coalition eventually being able to formulate sensible things about being. I put my appearance in the mailbox, as if it were a washing machine, in the hope finding them back renewed.

Perhaps it should be easier to participate in the meetings, being part of town council or government.

Yesterday evening I read something about gnosticism, and some aspects look very attractive to me, especially the idea that essential knowledge originates from within the so called self - which I would then translate as consciousness originating from coherent interactions, un-plastered political meetings yielding workable conclusions for the future seconds and delivering an appearance for the time being.

There is a big difference between the turning of a pot and giving a demonstration, the latter generating shit on my toes.

Dream
27-05-2004

Lieve and the two girls are in the bathroom - those with the steel-plate enameled bath, and Lieve lays in the water. We also have an other bathroom, those with the newer polyester tub.

One of my clients has a terrible fight with his partner, contaminated with projection and transference, fortified with a concrete resistance. The whole night the problem dwells around. She on her side has some complementary elements, spiraling the winds to force 7.

A film has been made with naked women boxing in a ring. Great scandal in the community. They show something on TV, but modestly, covering breasts and other hot stuff. The show will go on.

I am in a barber's shop to have my hair cut and there are some people before me. After a while the whole place is full with men and women, all turning around and through each other to be the first - or following. One or two manage to pass me, but then the barber comes to me and takes a look at my thin hair. He knows my name, although it is only the second time I am there, the first time being a long time ago. Yes, he can do something for me, he says. There are three chairs, all different in shape and color. The one for me is round and flat, in black imitation leather.

We have to return to the place we come from, we from the army, and a flight is coming on. That will be the first time for me, and I am a little bit nervous. We ride to the coast.

We stop the car, Lieve and I. She knows a place where we can buy a projection machine for 25 Euro, an impossible low price. It seems to be an enormous restored house, sort of old factory with nice double-glazed windows in enameled aluminum. There are several consecutive gates, as if it were a prison. In the central part there I see children playing on a playing ground in front of the huge building. One of them, a girl, runs out of the gate, escapes so to say. I run after her on the uneven floor of broken bricks and catch her with her hair. I slide my fingers gently through her gray thin hair and take her back inside. She is as angry as can be, and accuses me of all sorts of sexual activities. The guardians know her, and calm her down.

Then, to go for the spray, we go upstairs, and follow a small spiraling passage, with no stairs, but we walk as if it were stairs all the same. In a cavity in the middle of the way we see and feel three hot rubber pipes in different colors and thickness, hot water or something the like flowing through them. The higher we come, the more I become aware of my being asleep and dreaming. On one hand I am glad, because now I can direct the activity of the dream and go where I want to be (exotic scenes being within reach), but on the other hand I don't want to play games, and just am curious what the dream itself has to offer me, perhaps revealing some deeper meaning of my life - life in general. A confusing situation which awakens me.

Free Associations
27-05-2004

Sexual relationships, professional interactions, old thin gray hair, social squabbles, renovations and traveling. Experiments and experiences in consciousness and knowledge - gnosis. Everything boiling its way through my mental world.

Let's begin with the thin hair - covering an older head. I am curious to know what's beneath the skin and the skull, getting involved in a trip inside, next to pounding arteries, up to spiritual realms, eager to know and understand.

There are times I feel old and burnt-out, and others when I feel just like always, young and healthy, evolving and hopeful, being alive and conscious.

There are two baths, two levels of communication. One with enamel on, feeling cold and hard, in which we are forced to lay down, the fairy world of glamour and glitter. The other bath is more skinny and warm, newer too.

In the past I was thrown into two holes, one of blood and flesh, and one made of heavenly spirit, the flesh being week and full of distasteful desires and tendencies, the mind having the quality of thin air, the aura just outside the skin, or the core of human being, deep inside and endless, the soul, with hell or heaven in the nearby future, dependent on our behavior on this planet.

What strange inversion took place in modern times I am not totally aware, but what I see is not very comforting. As if making money and consuming all sorts of pleasure are the only things remaining, death being the end of it.

Yesterday I read something about human consciousness evolving into cosmological consciousness, we at this time, now, growing into it. It sounds a little bit naive, but it fits well with my idea of the possible originating of inter-human clusters with a new, unified or proper consciousness, governing the unit. In the past I had several sparks of thought concerning the possible coming into being of a unique consciousness when two or more people come together to communicate, to speak with words and with body-language to each other, eager to know and understand, longing to say and make clear what is in the heart and the head.

Matthew 18: ²⁰ For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them." (Ref. 30)

At the time, in the past, it was just this passage of the bible making me scared to death, because it made the dichotomy complete: when I was with others in the name of Jesus, I became part of Him, and lost my body, because those who said so were all celibatarians and asexual. So I lost contact with the others, because I couldn't forget my sexuality. Everything was nothing but contradiction and confusion.

Now, seven-hundred years later, I find the idea back in an old Roman church, where the kids are playing football on top of the walls, but now I can hold the kids inside, knowing them, and gently becoming whole inside. Where two or three are coming together, there comes a new I into being, just like the I in dreams is a floating element of concentrated actual consciousness.

Dream
28-05-2004

A child asks for attention in one way or the other, but there is nobody in the neighborhood 'available'.

I'm in the army and see the recruits lining up for a meal. I go to my quarters but am late and see everybody has been served already. There are some remnants on the main table and I can take what I want, which is not very much.

Instead of sitting at a table, I go to bed. A pal teases me and hides my food between the blankets. Angrily I try to regain it, but much greasy sauce sticks to the bed.

The waiter tries to remove the mess, but a reaction between the food and the blanket made the stuff aggressive and it hurts the man's hands.

When I come out of my bed, water spoils on the sheets, giving me the embarrassing feeling the others will think something else about the wetting.

A woman complaints about her washing-up bowl, saying the outlet is boxed up. I ask her to try letting the water out, and she pulls the plug out. The tomato-soup-like water runs out in a quite normal way, but the woman sticks to her opinion something is wrong.

Then I am at the seaside again. An airplane flies over slowly. It opens a lid and shoots some white line out of its belly - like a fireball blown away by means of an ancient catapult. White tiles - apparently the projectile - hit a power plant on the beach. If it should have been a bomb, the plant were gone. Perhaps it is an exercise, an I am astonished about the accuracy of the shooting. A second projectile hits a factory just next to the power station.

Free Associations
28-05-2004

Catapults throwing fireballs to the enemy. Tonight the enemy did not give me attention, has no food for me, teases me, says I hurts his hands with my reactions and suspects me of peeing in my bed. Furthermore the woman does not stop nagging me into stupid experiments while her outlet even lets soup out without problems.

Then the only thing I can imagine is prepare for an attack in case of hostile activities toward my person, blowing porcelain tiles on top of the power station - as if I were an angry (hysteric) husband throwing dishes with food against the wall.

There you see lots of elements (kids) in my head does not like the end-sentence of yesterday, those with the floating consciousness - being completely satisfying for 'me' but not acceptable at all for some other me's, sympathizing with my early education and my mother's turned-up nose.

Also yesterday late I looked at the sinking of H.M.S. Hood, Britain's largest battle cruiser in 1941, and that was not an exercise.

There is hope for the future.

Dream
29-05-2004

I walk home with Katelijne when my aunt, who's man does not speak to us from the moment she died, calls us in. She is a little bit hysterical, because we in turn denied them since then, and tries to re-establish communication.

We go upstairs and while she pours her heart out, my uncle sits surly at his desk, just looking at the scene.

Then he comes out and complains about his foot, which hurts and is swollen. In fact all of their activities turn around his illness with remedies, machinery and visits to the doctor. Very frustrating is the fact that he denies his infirmity, saying it will soon be better.

We get some money from him to go for a miracle drug, which turns out to be a suitcase with two small flasks producing together a sort of rosewater. Uncle drinks it directly, saying he can buy the same stuff cheaper in town. The wonder-suitcase immediately starts producing an other dose. It can do so without effort and endless.

Because they are in the middle of alterations, for his foot, the cupboard covers some parts of the staircase, and we hardly can leave the room up there. Furthermore the stairs themselves are broken down somewhere in the middle, and we hardly manage to reach the street level floor - Katelijne having to jump off because the entire construction tends to collapse.

We have to engrave characters - words - somewhere high in the air, standing on ladders, and it is a hell of a job. The client only has eye for the aesthetic aspects of his text, and ignores completely our difficult situation.

Free Associations
29-05-2004

"An individuatated individual is one in whom the unconscious and conscious are harmonized, and ego is decentralized (prerequisite and consequence). This is achieved by getting in touch with the unconscious, without allowing the ego to be overwhelmed by it. Ego has an explicit value." (Ref. 36)

In my search for wholeness in our collective unconscious web, I found something about a decentralized ego, probably something like a floating 'me'. Walking about in my personal unconscious for a while (a big while) got me in touch with my own symbolic landscape, inhabited by the kids or origines described earlier - 'I' being one of them, the one in charge at the moment, the center of consciousness.

The sentence "without allowing the ego to be overwhelmed by it" has a strange taste, I find. As if it is possible to open up a can of unconscious stuff or something like that, or liberate the lions of the zoo in our head on command. Reminds me of psychosis, an explosion of the can, and the warning could then be meaningful for overheated minds. Normally evolution toward consciousness is slow and hard, and each step overwhelms the sitting ego, making mind more decentralized and democratic with the installation of a new one for a while ... Psychosis then is civil war, with no government and lots of parties.

What I wanted to say. Aunt had nothing but symptoms all her life long, and now she is dead, she pours her heart out. Scenery, decor, defense and symptoms have to die if I want to speak in accordance with my heart. Uncle never was surly, but now he can't complain about his wife's symptoms any more, his own foot hurts and his environment has to produce roses to compensate his lack of being. Once you are (I am) up there in a rigid strong ego, loose from unconscious currents, it is very difficult to come down the stairs.

Parallel stories are valid everywhere and always - not two next to each other, but hundreds of them, simultaneously, and it is a hell of a job to concentrate on the essence of being, just being there, allowing me to do what has to be done and then simply pass the throne to the next me. Floating me, inside and outside.