June 13, 2023

 Another extraordinary journey. The Imaginal certainly knows how to keep me off kilter! If I ever thought these journeys were inventions of my overly active imagination, today’s experience challenges that because it took me to some familiar places but with a lot of unexpected twists.

The themes were consistent: The bardo realm–the intermediary death realm where I encounter the souls–usually a shadowland with silvery moonlight, the Crossroads, the Lady in White, the so-called Golden Realm of Truth. But, wow, what a weird trip today!

At first I became aware of a latch on a door. The latch was iron and barred a heavy, oaken door from the outside. Everything was drenched in silvery halflight. I was standing in the center courtyard of a Spanish colonial hacienda. Was I in Spain or Mexico or some other former colony? It felt like Mexico but I’m not sure. The hacienda had been converted into a garrison and the rooms made into prison cells. I got the sense that the doorway before me had been a storeroom but was converted into a cell to hold a prisoner.

What to do but slide back the bolt and open the door? That’s what I did and was immediately met with intense blackness. This blackness, if you’ve been reading these entries, is the calling card of the Absolute. When it appears, I know I am called to enter it and let it dissolve me so I can find whoever is frozen inside.

After I moved through the blackness into the room, I saw a skeleton clad in rags lying in a pool of silver moonlight on the floor. My eyes filled with tears. This poor man had been left to die here. His body had rotted away leaving only bones. His hair had grown out during his long captivity and was stringy and white. I knelt beside him and lifted his bones to my chest, hugging him gently. He came alive in my arms, although he was more like a zombie than a human. I helped him to stand and led him out into the courtyard. He staggered along behind me, standing hunched in the moonlight.

As I stood there, I could feel the residue of war, like a collective memory. I could see, compressed into one image, everything that had happened there. The hacienda had eventually been destroyed by fire but not before many, many people died there. Gradually, the shades of those dead rose from the dust around us, forming a ragtag army. There were many of them there, more than twenty but how many exactly I don’t know.

I stood still and they approached me. Looking down, I saw that my body wasn’t softly glowing like it usually does during the journeys. Rather, I looked, well, normal. My naked skin was its usual color. In short, I looked like a living human being.

The shades reached out and touched me. As soon as their hands made contact with my flesh, their gray, ghostly skin came alive, changing to the color of healthy, living flesh. They were all darker complected than I, evidence perhaps of their mestizo heritage? Soon, the whole crowd, including the young man whom I had led out of the cell, looked like fully alive, healthy men. It was quite a transformation!

We stood there silently. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I looked to the south and saw through a breach in the wall that the landscape, while still moon-drenched, was covered with undulating fog. Some features like an old windmill emerged from the mist but mostly it was impenetrable. It was both beautiful and deathless.

Soon, a familiar and yet unfamiliar figure emerged from the moonlit fog: The Woman in White. She looked strange, though. Dressed in a starchy, formal dress reminiscent of a wealthy woman from early 19th Century Mexico, she radiated a potent mixture of things. There was her usual compassion, of course, but there was a sexiness to her as well. The top of her bosom was revealed and I could tell the men surrounding me responded to the sight. There was something else about her, too; she radiated power. It was the power of strength and sexuality and vigor, a kind of ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ power that was colored with the potential for violence.

For a moment, I wondered if it was really her because I’ve never encountered her like this. But then she winked and smiled at me and I knew it was really her. She seemed amused by my trepidation. It was clear that she wore a form that these men would respond to and also had a power about her that she would need to traverse the foggy in-between lands. I could feel the presence of other beings in the fog and not all of them were benevolent.

As I stared at her, she seemed to waver between woman and wolf. As a wolf, she was immense and vicious and her eyes flashed red in the moonlight. I took a step backward. She was really impressive!

“I need to be this way,” she explained, “to keep them safe.”

I understood and agreed. In order to shuttle so many souls through the fog, she would draw a lot of unwanted attention and needed to be powerful.

It was time for the men to leave, to accompany the Woman in White onto the next leg of their journey. The young man I had freed was reluctant to go, though, and I sensed for the first time that he was attracted to me. (He was quite cute, too, with black hair and beautiful, brown eyes.) I took him into my arms and hugged him tightly, kissing him. Our lips met even as my hands lowered to his buttocks and I toyed gently with his butthole. (He was naked like me.) He was both startled and excited by this forbidden touch and wanted more but the group was already leaving and I urged him to go. “Don’t worry,” I assured him. “You’ll be fine. And, who knows, we may even meet again?”

He left, although not without hesitation. It was sweet. He was sweet. And I watched him go with a little sadness. Where was he bound? Would we meet again? I have no idea.

I was so preoccupied with watching the group getting swallowed in the mist that I almost missed another man who was propped against the broken wheel of a cannon nearby. His groan of distress, however, caught my attention and I turned and, spotting him, knelt down. He lifted his arms feebly outward to me and I caught them, gathering him in my arms.

The group had already departed and I knew I couldn’t catch them so I carried him by myself into the fog. I wasn’t worried about being exposed to any danger, though; I knew I could handle myself with one soul. A whole group, however, required someone of a higher pay grade than me and that’s why the Woman in White had appeared.

I sprinted through the fog, eventually reaching the Crossroads. The man on my back was surprised to see snow for the first time in his life. It blanketed the forest of the Crossroads, giving it a cold, deathless air.

As I made my way down the road, a golden doorway opened before me. I inhaled sharply when I realized that the person opening the doorway was a living human, just like me. Moreover, she was clearly a woman. I’ve never met anyone like me during these journeys (at least, I don’t think I have) and this woman clearly possessed the same capacities that I do. In other words, her soul had developed and could serve as a portal between realms.

I carried the man through the portal–he was still clinging to my back–and deposited him on ground on the other side. Here was the Golden Realm, the so-called realm of Milk and Honey, the Land of Truth. It is full of abundance and golden sunlight poured down upon it, turning everything gold. It’s rich, alive, succulent. The man walked away, able to stand. He was full of purpose now that he had made it through the bardo.

That left me and the woman alone together. She was just as curious about me as I was curious about her but also seemed more experienced. I have no idea what her chronological age in the physical world might be, probably at least middle-aged like me. But here she was bursting with life and excitement and power. It was quite stunning to be confronted with someone who was so alive. It made me wonder if I might have a similar effect on those I meet in the Imaginal. Are they likewise affected?

We shared an instant intimacy, the kind that is only shared here in the Imaginal where deceit and boundaries do not exist. It’s an intimacy that is only surpassed by the intimacy between soulmates in the physical world. Speaking of soulmates, I saw that this woman had a soulmate–a man–and his presence was implied more than seen. Like my own soulmate, Griffin, this man was a shadow here. Was he similar to Griffin? Still asleep in the physical world, waiting to wake up? Was he somewhere else? I don’t know but it was interesting knowing that this woman had a soulmate, too. Perhaps this is a requirement for being able to travel so freely between realms in the Imaginal?

I don’t know what race or ethnicity she was. She seemed to have shoulder-length black or brown hair and her eyes were the color of almonds. She wasn’t what you would call beautiful but she was quite alluring nonetheless. She couldn’t stop grinning at me and it was clear she was beside herself with happiness at meeting me. I felt the same way and we tumbled down onto the golden grass, lying side by side with our hands behind our heads, looking up at the sundrenched sky. We laughed like children.

It didn’t take before she became frisky. Playful at first, it soon became clear that she had more carnal intentions and leaped on top of me, lowering herself down onto my crotch. (We were, of course, naked.) My eyes went wide. Did she really want to have sex? Did she realize I’m gay? I’ve never had sex with a woman and have never had any desire to do so.

But I wasn’t in the physical world. My soul was in the Imaginal and the rules of desire and attraction are different there. I was shocked when my soul-body responded vigorously to her advances and soon I was actually fucking her. I was fucking a vagina! And I was enjoying it! It was the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had aside from making love with Griffin. As we fucked with her straddling my hips, working herself downward and driving my cock deep inside her, I remembered the intensity of lovemaking with Griffin. I remembered how it was unlike anything else. I remembered how that kind of love wasn’t simply just full-body, it was also full-soul. This was similar but without the full-body part. (My physical body, predictably, was unresponsive.)

Soon, I was panting. She was panting, too.

Then she flipped me over so I was on top of her. Our lips met and we writhed together, fucking like eager puppies. The orgasm was overwhelming, washing over us like a tsunami. It left me breathless and confused. I rolled off of her, mind reeling.

What had just happened?

I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that I was capable of having sex with a woman, much less enjoying it.

And she had a soulmate!

And I did, too! (Although Griffin has never been particularly concerned about fooling around. He certainly did so regularly and I knew he wouldn’t care if I did.)

Had I just cuckolded another soulmate’s soulmate?

When my meditation ended, I was left feeling confused. I’m still confused. The experience came out of nowhere and confronted not just my sexual orientation but also my prudishness. I might be gay but I’m also pretty much a prude. It also confronted me with my own sexism. I realized that I have a judgment about sexually aggressive women that is tinged with religious morality. The truth is, though, why shouldn’t a woman be as sexually forward as a man? There is no reason why not.

What the fuck had just happened?

Finally–and I’m aware of how crazy this sounds–but did I just father a child? (I’m aware of the possibility that we are born first in the spirit and only have the possibility of later being born in the flesh. The parents of both births could not be more different.)

I need to think about the implications of all this.

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