This is a taster of the sonic journeys I’ll be offering to paid subscribers about once per month. If you’d like to get receive these as well as premium access to the
Circle of 8
and
Convivvium
psychedelic journeys happening online and in Oaxaca, Mexico in 2022, hit that pretty purple button below.
The audio is downloadable here. Caution: Don't listen or read while you're driving or otherwise distracted, as it can get you pretty bent out of shape if you're not fully in presence with the transmission to bring the energies through.
I only know at this point is that the title of this piece is the Betrayal of Hope, and I know that I have a splitting headache. It feels a bit like the shape that the windshield cracks make, that sort of curvy wervy like a mountain highway. That's what it feels like in my head right now. It's quite a bit better than it was now that I have taken some THC.
It's more important to me to feel what has been buried in my body, in my emotions, my energy – some cracks through my being that were so deep and so old... and for so long that I just simply couldn't feel it all the time, or I probably wouldn't feel much of anything else.
But I'm feeling it tonight. And it's about the betrayal and hope polarity with the transcendence of faith.
I've been waking up several, several, several days in a row, maybe. Maybe since I arrived in Oaxaca, 10 days ago, this wall of something has been present with me and has had me imagine scenarios that didn't much at all resemble reality.
Here I am feeling like something is falling apart when the gold already has been poured to glue the crack together. It's already been joined, but I haven't caught up to that yet.
I'm aligning to the remembrance of loving people tonight.
And I've been saying their names one by one.
I align to the remembrance of loving Anthony. And I feel what that does in my body.
And then I hear the next name -- I align to the remembrance of loving David.
And then again a new wash of sensation in a different place, perhaps of intimacy with touching myself from the inside out the core, very center of my throat, feeling myself from the inside out, locating the intensity, becoming the intensity, allowing it to radiate and spread through my being until it's done. It's peace.
And I hear again, the next name -- I align to the remembrance of loving Melanie.
I feel how something softens in me and something strengthens in me.
And some part of me gets to cry.
Some part of me gets to feel fear.
Another part gets to scream with joy.
I align to the remembrance of loving Charlie
and a new sensation, like the loose curls of our beautiful Charlie girl
suffuses my inner mind's eye.
I feel the happiness.
What a joy, what a gift.
Not in any way a burden to align to this remembrance, just beauty.
It's just pain.
It's just pain.
I align to the remembrance of loving myself.
I align to the remembrance of loving myself.
I align to the remembrance of loving myself,
Not I, only.
I, you and I, we.
I align.
We align.
We are becoming me.
Me are becoming we.
And then I feel the fear suffuse me. Those words are very scary.
My belly wants to know if there will still be sustenance
if I don't hoard it into myself, if I don't build walls to contain the grain, the storehouse of nutrition, the nutrition hoarded only because of the fear of the betrayal.
Hope – the promise that we let ourselves believe and are so burdened by when that promise is broken.
But we must root down to our well
to our space of training,
not to be the ocean, but to remember that we are the ocean and the air.
We are the foam.
And to that, which is not fair or fine, we say no.
We grieve their separation from us,
and we scream stop to that which is not worthy.
And sometimes we must scream -- stop!
Only to rattle the deeper layers who have gone unrung.
We must hammer that bell on a deep enough loud enough,
certain enough tone to say
“that is enough.”
And on this layer still no later than was possible again, we reset and we reclaim and we reorder our foundation.
And we reorder and we reorder and we reorder still until we feel the very center point, the smallest particle of center point precisely in our center – the smallest, most exact dot from which all of this gravity emanates, not merely of this one being but in connection with the mass of all the beings of the me-that-is-we condense into this area of space-time.
For the betrayal of hope is a piercing, a bending,
a point bending a plane into a cone, stretching the surface
into that point into that diamond point of pain, which bends even gravity.
The me-that-is-we realigns to the remembrance.
The me-that-is-we aligns to the remembrance of hope.
And I let this grief drain out, this old,
old, old leak.
We now open the wound and pour out this grief down into the earth,
letting our ears open.
Letting our ears open and drain out the heavy liquid,
leaving my head as hollow as a drum,
and now in drawing towards the close
we offer up our hollowness, we offer up our silent sound,
of the unbeat drum,
and we sit with the betrayal of hope.
And so it is.
Listen to the full transmission
with Dune soundtrack for maximum energetic pleasure.
Love from Mexico,
Cris and Team Dragon