Sooooooooooo. I had this most interesting experience this morning. And though logically, I can't trace it back to the Retreat (not without a lot of protest from mind, anyway), it seems to me as though the energy comes from there. Maybe? And while by now the experience is somewhat vague and I don't seem to recall all details - or the emotions that went with it - I would really love to write it down, get it out. It feels as though I need to.

Anyway, this morning. I was sitting in meditation, doing the Breakthrough breathing. Sometimes it proves to be quite a challenge when I do it on my own. Sometimes I concentrate so hard on what I'm feeling that I forget to breathe, other times I'm so focused on the breathing that I don't even notice what is happening inside.

And sometimes I seem to not be able to do it at all. Like, I breathe up, but I can't seem to reach that place above my crown. Where is it? How does it feel like again?

It started similarly this morning. But in the next breath, I found the place and noticed, really noticed, what it felt like. Reminded me a bit of the Higher Guidance Meditation I did on Monday (brilliant, that, by the way). I felt this incredibly fine, light, harmonious energy. Subtle but strong. There was light as well. At the same time, I heard/felt that buzzing in my head. Only it was more than the buzzing I heard/felt before. It was clearer, in a way. I could hear it inside my head, hear the vibration. It was persistant and loud and of course distracting. But at the same time, there was that really subtle, light vibration above my head.

For a while I just watched, and then I had to breathe again. And promptly couldn't reach that higher place. I seemed to be stuck inside of my head. About where the humming sound was. Yet at the same time, I felt something like an expansion. But it didn't feel quite right anymore. Not with the feeling of the other, subtle-light-fine vibration still vivid. And it seemed to me, as though that thing inside my head is trying to mimic the sense of expansion. So that I won't keep trying to bypass it. So that I will keep breathing into it, and its energies down into my body.

Sneaky bastards.

A while later I stood at the station, waiting for the train. I was pondering how to deal with this thing. How can I possibly become awesomely okay with that? How can I go in there? If I do, it will suck me in, overwhelm me, tear through me and... I don't know, I was playing "worst case scenario" with this all morning, but I couldn't seem to go beyond that point: I will be sucked in and - nothing. Black hole. Lots of pain, though. Probably.

And I'm scared. Really, really scared to go there. To get too close. To feel what is there. Yet at the same time it seems as though I know/remember what is there.

Rationally I know that all of that just means that, yes, I need to go there. Still I'm so scared of drowning ("Yeah. Drown.") Scared of what might come through if I do.

With these thoughts in mind I got on the train and dug my book out to spend the trip reading. I had felt pulled to read Divinicus after returning from Glastonbury (even though mind insisted we hadn't finished Breakthrough yet), so now I'm reading about Liberty, Bringer of Light, and the Head of the Cobra. And then there was this:

"I'd say to anyone reading, whenever you might feel the invasion of psychic attack, as challenging as it may seem, surrender is the key to success: not resisting the invasion and thereby making yourself a bigger target; rather, becoming as nothing in it. In which case, it has nowhere to strike. What's more, you can now resonate that thought/feeling frequency of forgiveness, leading to reintegration with the Source."

Tears welled up, my entire inside seemed to light up with a strong feeling of "yes; that". And I'm crying again as I type this, feeling such a deep sense of rightness, even though mind is spiralling into loops of questions and doubts and list of why all of the above was just coincidence and has nothing to do with one another.

(Yeah, right)

But you know what? I think that whatever it is inside my head knows. And it's just as scared of me as I am of it. It's scared and fighting with all its might to get me to stop paying attention to it.

Well, then. The direction is obvious: I will go there and, well, drown.

Deep breath...

See you on the other side.

(Maybe)

Heike