This blog is done.

This post is only to inform all of my die hard fans that this blog is no more. There will be no new posts except to inform you of where and What my next blog will be.


check back at the end of the month or so. Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed the trip.



I am currently in Mumbai with my time in India drawing to a close. Let
me say, I am excited. I have learned so much on this trip and have
literally and figuratively “Gone so far”. I am marked as a different
person. However, I don’t blame India for the change, I blame Chronos
and Father time. I can’t help but change over time and the change came
and I went with it. Still If I here anyone tell me I have changed I
will officially deny it.
I am the same person I have always been ! the only thing that could
possibly change would be the expression of my being. Remember my being
is the one permanent unchanging thing. So if you see me an you think I
am a different person keep it to yourself or instead say to yourself
or exclaim to me and your friends “THE WAY GRAEME IS EXPRESSING HIS

————————You might not notice anything though——————–
Thoughts keep racing in my head. Where will I go, who will I see, what
does the future of this upcoming future hold!!! I’m having a hard time

being still in the present, I am restless, I can’t sleep well on my
nice soft beach bed. I’m filled with excitement a long dragging
excitement. How this will feel on the plain ride I can’t guess at.
Twenty three hours till I land, ten hours till I land, 30 minutes, I’m
at the gate, I’m in “my” home! I’m seeing my friends! I’VE SLIPPED
INTO THE FUTURES FUTURE. But it’s OK because PRESENTLY that’s just
where I am. Staying in the present is just a concentration exercise.
Living in parallel times, different futures, and different pastes,
being in different time-lines is just dily dallying till you die, but
so is everything else we do. I guess we are all just collecting firewood for our funeral pyres (at least the more productive people are doing this.)


I joined some of the American boys out on the street the next night,
we met at the airport and I showed them a place where we could stay.
The group seemed to think a night in the city was more appropriate and
so, that’s what we did. The entire night the police harassed us. I did
my best to talk some bullshit, to be kind to the police and urge them
to overlook the pile of wealthy white tourists strewn out on the
“dangerous, dangerous” Indian pavement. We just picked the wrong
street that’s all. The rumor was the police were out in full force in
this area due to some decision concerning a temple. It was a dispute
between the Hindus and the Muslims, some one was likely to bomb
someone else.

I slept fine despite the disturbances. In fact the disturbances
allowed me to thoroughly practice my sleep yoga, the yoga nidra. When
the sun finally came up and The kids all woke up we were told about a
holy river that flowed through a mountain. The river was called Golta
and there sits a wonderful ashram.

The man who told us about this place was a gold dealer; the business
had been in his family for many generations. His nickname was Yogi and
after he talked to us boys he met up with the girls and read their
palms. A turn out one of the girls was going to have a short simple
life. She was not happy to hear this and spent the rest of the day
very concerned. But I mean why care? WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE. So she
should just relax a simple life is a nice life.

A small group of us wandered up the mountain, each of us walking at our own pace. Alexis (you have prolly herd of her) and I were the first to reach the summit we walked the streets and the steps of the temple barefoot. We were even told as we walked back to the city later about how this is good karma. (And just so you know it really is good karma)
Their was a bit of a fuss put on when I jumped into the ashrams communal bath naked but otherwise the entire stay at Golta was peaceful for me. Alexis and I quickly met with one of the resident Babas, a man by the name of Mukesh who is kind, generous, smokes a ton of ganja, and if you ask Alexis he’s a smooth Casanova also. (let’s not forget someone with a real good air about them, you could say some sort of aura.)
We spent much time quietly sitting in Mukesh’s humble home. His small fire burning, he made us a small dinner that Alexis feels gave her food poisoning. Things were good even when alexis became ill.

It was simply a stomach problem, but on top of her illness she was bleeding, So it is safe to say that the later duration of Alexis’ trip was rather uncomfortable. It had come on in the night, her illness that is and so she spent much of the night caring for herself. She tells me that Mukesh tried to use some healing energies on her. Moving the energy around her body, she also told me that Mukesh became distracted at some point and wanted to try out some sexual healing on her. As you might expect between bleeding out her crotch and vomiting for most of the night the mood wasn’t quite right. I was pleased that she managed to turn him down and not offend him. I was also impressed that Mukesh could fuck up like this, get turned down and still be amicable to her and I.
I joined Alexis when she left for the airport, I was glad to be away from any Baba for some time. I just don’t prefer to smoke that much ganja!
As far as I can tell things didn’t become more comfortable for Lexi until sometime later. The Indian boys really enjoy watching white girls taking a shit it seems. I did my best to chase these peeping toms and retarded asshole jerks away. At one point a group of twenty people gathered some of them interested in seeing her, others not sure about what was going on, and some who just wanted to talk to a strange looking foreigner (me). It was a time for a trident. I should have a trident for situations like that. Sometimes, I can show a person exactly what is up.


left my nice open field in Hyderabad to go to Jaipur. The field I
had been staying in was wonderful I could sit as long there as I wanted
to. I could do my yoga and meditate and not see a single person. I was
looking for this same thing when I got to Jaipur and found it
instantly. Some open lots, a cricket field near a slum. I even found
where I could take a shower. It was all near the airport a place where
I needed to be. I needed to stay in that area in order to meet those
kids from America, from Hyderabad, from School. They showed up in a
group of about ten and then myself. We infected the city with some
small illness. We collectively bought shoes and trinkets, for
ourselves or to hawk to our friends in America, to impress them. To
help ourselves remember the splendor of the place, we integrated parts
of the city into our collections of belongings, maybe photos of the
pink buildings, or a shot of the elephants that strolled around with
painted faces and huge painful cuffs around their legs. Some jewelry,
the streets were permeated with that stuff.

Jewelry work, dead leaves.
Come from the earth, now go back.
Apples sitting in fall.

Everywhere I went in that city I was offered a job. People saw me in
two ways. At first a rich white kid who they could get rich from and
then they saw me as a person in a perfect position to hustle other
white people. I was offered a room and a job, clean clothes and a
hair cut. I just needed to lure the tourists here or there.

I was pulled into a jewelry store. I sat with these random, strange,
well to do men, and we talked. They wanted to know who I was and why I
was. It eventually came out that I was aghore. That I was a taboo
breaker and a lover of blackness. The aghore should and can do
anything. He shouldn’t turn down what’s offered to him. If its poison
we must take it. If it’s disgusting, we ought to take it. We should be
neither repulsed nor attracted.

One man in particular wanted to know about tantra, yoga and aghor.
Really I don’t know anything about anything, but I can pretend I do.

The fool speaks while the wise stay quiet.

When He found out the list of things I have eaten he offered me a
teacup filled with his piss. All I can think is “why not?” He tells
everyone in the room that it’s a blessing to have an aghore drink your
piss or do something like this, But I feel the blessing comes when you
drink it not someone else, or maybe its happening is the product of a

Do you remember what I tell to the trees?

His piss, my piss, the piss of a menstruating women; Fuck the world,
it’s all the same.
That man was dressed in all black. I feel he wasn’t a man but an omen,
a bhut, a ghost a spirit. He wanted to know, are you aghore or are you
not? Perhaps I am, perhaps I was going beyond aversion.

Piss tastes like a nice tea sometimes. The spices you eat obviously
flavor the drink. Conversation became stuck for sometime on me
drinking bodily fluids, and I was dealing with some discomfort when I
was asked “Have you ever drank someones else’s Cum?” “Have you drank
any mans piss straight from his penis?” When I said that my acts have
not generally been homosexual in nature and they became offended. They
asked me to take my clothes off to be like Shiva. I told them they’d
have to find me outside of society If they wanted to see me naked.

Some how I can make a distinction between drinking a cup of piss as
being comfortable and not inappropriate and then a simple question can
strike me as just wrong. I didn’t want to be raped by these five
Indian men. Often I let myself into some tough situations.
I can feel the situations coming sometimes, sometimes I can’t.

The man in black wanted to know tantra after I finished my tea. He
wanted to practice with his wife. So I told him some things.

The devi dwells within your lover and you must worship her.
Your partner is your god and you must worship her.
You are worshiping your partner and with the partner.
You are the dwelling place of the deva and he must be worshiped.
You are the Deva and you must properly love the Devi.

Easier said than done, but you have your entire life to practice.

(Deva male god, Devi female goddess.)

I showed him the purest ritual in tantra, to Gaze. Look into your
partners eyes and fix your attention their. Meditate on the face of a
god, and a face made from the meat or mater of god.

He couldn’t look for very long. He looked away, he closed his eyes.
It’s not a staring contest but if I drink your piss you owe me some
eye contact.

You can do this with your good friends, with your mother or father an
enlightened person on the bus. It is completely pure.

It has been sometime since I have made a new blog. I had spent some time working on a short tale about a mountain demon and His unquenchable thirst for sex. Should be good I will start posting it 500 words at a time shortly.

One more thing has kept me from posting anything and that was some travel! I just got off a roughly three day long train ride.I had no assigned seat so we all (and there were many of us) just all shoved ourselves into the crowded car. Every sort of person was their! The Baba with his long beard, young students, and many young children. There were old Hindu women with no teeth gumming tobacco, and my favorite, The Sikhs!

I ended up making some good friends on the ride by giving my seat up. First to a large business man and then to an old women.her teeth were gone her hair was dyed an orange color and her sarieh was black, how could I not give her my seat?

The Sikhs were kind to me even though we couldn’t speak. One thing that caught my eye was the fact that they all had their sacramental daggers. Each one carried at their side a small dagger with a curved blade. Some of the men had two knifes, some had three and some even had a sword or two, or a battle axe, or a spear.

By the end of the train ride I was joking in sign language about drinking and smoking with them. I felt like I was being told to drink milk by Mr.T. One conversation went something like this: “do you like to drink? Do you like to smoke? well if you have a beard and I catch you smoking ganja I will beat you with the handle of my mace!”

The guy had one eye, he had a large belly, and I’d pity the fool who fucks with him. He was a kind man.

The train was lovely. By the end of the night, due to my good karma I was sharing a bunk with a very miserly companion. Luckily he was my friend so he helped me, but only me and no one else. No ones luggage could sit with us, and no other person. This worked out well for me. I’m far too kind to every say no to a friend but this man had a sense not to make them! I have said in the past how I find the train conducive to dreams, but that was in the sleeper class compartments. With no reservation the train ride is conducive to meditation, yoga in very awkward positions and pushing your borders on personal space. When you want to sit on the dirty floor after some hours and some guys ass is in your face all you can do is not mind, And that can be a bit of an exorcise at times.

I felt like part of some cattle being shipped here or their. If it weren’t for the fact that everyone wanted to be on the train I could compare it to some Nazi trip to a death camp, but spirits were high. people were ready to fight to the death to get on the train. Sometimes a loud argument would break out over being let on, about hurrying up because the train was leaving the station with or without you totally on the thing, with part of your family still on the platform, or your goods stuck behind some people who just couldn’t move.

Go to the bathroom, lose your seat. Get some food, lose your seat. Get someone else water, make a friend for the train ride! The train stops for a few moments at a number of stations and the chaimen and samosa dealers descend. People are hungry, and the salesmen must do well. I was surprised by a number of goods dealers that would walk up and down the train.

One man stopped to give a presentation on his incredible books. each one filled with important “common knowledge” on history, proper nutrition,and other things like this. Another man sold chain necklaces, gold in color and from his long, loud demonstration the things were practically “indestructible”.

I managed to get on the train and stay on the train with a good mood for the whole ride. between Rishikesh and Haridware I was stolen from and It put me in a down mood for some sporadic random moments. It was a rather polite and kind thievery that took place at that station. While I sat waiting for my next train, a Nepalese character sat next to me. we chated for a few minutes and ended up going to get some food. It was a pretty simple scam when it was time to pay he conveniently left his wallet with his friend.

I knew once he said this that there was no friend and that I could either pay for his meal, turn him in, or maybe pay for his meal and beat the shit out of him, or maybe just give him a good punch in the face. I called him a fucking jerk and he smiled, he knew I would be paying for the meal. I had wondered if I should have offered him a soda after the meal was over, after I found out he was a “jerk”. It was either I should offer him a drink or beat the shit out of him in the front of the restaurant.

He chose the restaurant a little place fashioned after western fast food restaurants the place was called “dosa plaza” The food tasted American, but then again I ordered something that seemed more American.

you should know  what a dosa is. the dosa is a crepe like dish, it’s filled with whatever, potatoes,and whatever, onions,  and you dip it in some coconut chutney and some hot shit called sombre.

I like dosa, but back to the theif! That was it I just let him leave I paid for the meal and Realy I felt like nothing happened, he even offered me the leftovers. I assumed he would have wanted them since, I mean, he did steal that food! Later some lady wanted the leftovers and had a good story about why she needed some food. It was at that moment that some negative energy poured out, just a little. She asked at the wrong moment.

shortly after-words some man was being friendly and this soon turned into an opportunity for the man to ask for money.

Finally, I made it into my station to wait on the platform for my train. Some babas sat on the platform under the sky and between the Himalayan mountains. They were happy to see me. I was happy to see them. I thought I could sit somewhere quietly with some kind quiet people, but then they started asking for money! I reached down and pretended to draw up one of the tridents the babas kept in a small pile. With this trident I pretended to kill that baba where he stood. His friend just said “oh”, I walked away to sit ALONE.

Everyone wanted money that day. The same with every day but more than usual that black day. Even the baba who I spent the day with in rishikesh wanted money. I had spent the day in hopes that this man who used the title “yogaraj” might do some yoga. He talked to me about a five day trek into the mountains and I was ready. when the time came, It seemed that he was more concerned with smoking Ganja and having me purchase him tea than anything. obviously this was some sort of failure. when I told him I was leaving he asked for some Help

“help baba? fifty rupees? something?”

He had told me earlier that all is baba, and baba is God” so I told him i’d help some other form of him, he should relax even though I wasn’t giving “him” any cash.

All my money will go to “baba” and all of the cash is already owned by Baba

That day was cursed, the first thing that happened that day, after I got up off the ground, after I put away my blanket; I was bitten by a black dog.

It happened when I was leaving for my morning bath. He bit me once more when I returned to the random shack we had been hanging out in.

The Baba, his kind friend -who wanted to know if I had sex, and myself all spent the night on this little cabin property. It had no gate in the fence, when we showed up the door was locked even though nothing valuable or worth stealing sat inside. …That day was cursed….

I just got back to hyderabad, It’s chill and raining here. I got back at six AM from a long train ride of dreaming. I find the atmosphere on the train conducive to dreaming, the trains bumps keep you just somewhat aware. your bunk is also probably slightly uncomfortable, and then the calling out of the chai sellers who saunter up and down the train. The calling calling of “chai, chai” by these people is like a meditation bell.

unexpectedly I found an Aghor Baba when I was there in Mumbai. He was sitting on the top of a steel drum, on the left side of a fire hydrant and out front of a Shiva temple. There was a small plastic tree always directly in front of his chair and he said he used it to sell flowers, though I never saw him selling any flowers. This small tree stump ended up being my place to sit before the Baba. I would have preferred the ground, but I felt that the awkward chair he gave me put me into a specifically assigned yoga asana that I shouldn’t fuck with.

It was a random serious of events that brought me to that spot. I wasn’t expecting to meet the Baba there. I wasn’t expecting to think so highly of him. I didn’t really expect to be terribly struck with India on this trip. I figured that I didn’t speak enough Hindi to talk to the legitimate spiritualists. Not to mention all the sadhus I had found till then were disappointing at best.

I found a nice place to sleep on the beach just near the Baba and tucked into the middle of a small slum made of tarp tents and small boats. I liked the homes these people had they were simple and elegant most likely due to the fact the took them down every day. The slum accepted me, And worried about me. The people of the slum brought me food, offered me cigarettes and took me out for chai. Any outsider told me not to stay on the beach. I was warned that the police would arrest me. I was warned that the people of the slum would rob me or kill me and then rob me. I ,however, managed to stay safe and comfortable at this wonderful place.

I fell in love with this ocean. I was covered with beach sand every day. I meditated on the ocean waves and my mental focus stayed not due to any will power but because of my love. I did my yoga on the beach, I hung out with friends and acquaintances there. I love that beach!

The entire scene was beautiful. Every day I spent some hours with the Baba. Learning Hindi Overtly and learning aghore Slightly more covertly. Information and stories, prayers, and practices, slipped out and were enjoyed without any formality. Impatience built in me for practice though.

Eventually the practice came, we went to the shamshan. we went to the cremation ground one day. After some persistent asking on my part. The shamshan was about a forty five minute walk from where he sat at Babulnath temple. We went by the place and he tried to convince me not to go inside. It had to happen, this trip couldn’t be complete with out my feet stepping onto the soil of the grounds. I’m in the city though and the crematorium is gated and their are some attendants their. Many signs are posted up declaring that photography is not allowed and also that visitors are not allowed. Regardless I go through the gate alone The Baba tells me that “They know me here and they don’t let me in.” I walk in and the attendants get up instantly to escort me out. A dog runs barking at me and I try to pretend I don’t mind any of this. There are the bodies just dark twisted trees blackened by the fire. I am surprised and I just stare. I’m about 25 feet past the gate and I’m intercepted by the man. I try and simply ask for some ash from the ground but the answer is no.

I feel proud that I made it in, But wish I would have forced my way to the burning body and got the sacred ash that I wanted. I also should have had a big fucking trident in my hands and magic powers. Soon enough, patience Graeme, patience. Of course if I had these things what would I be doing at the Mumbai shamshan?! Baba says we need another three Aghor and then no one would try and stop us. He also says in the north we are just accepted, we are let in, to pray, to take the ash, to do as we please.

That was our field trip to the shamshan. We left, I hooked up with my friends at the beach and ate junk food they bought me. The name Khao Baba was stuck in my head. That’s a baba who doesn’t pray, but just eats the food hes offered.

Eventually I got back to the Baba later that night around seven or so. The sun was going down and he was quietly sitting smoking his chillum. I was told by the Baba to turn down the ganja of other people and only smoke with him. This was something I greatly appreciated since other wise I’m not to turn down drugs. This is part of Aghor philosophy there is nothing sacred about sobriety, indulge in drugs, don’t get attached to them. Be comfortable in any state, have no commitments to society. Be wild.

I had turned down many offers to smoke when people see me. They want to smoke and drink. I want people to hallucinate when they see me. He offered the brass pipe to me and I inhaled. We passed it back and forth a few more times and the sun was down. He was laughing and chuckling. he spoke to me.

” I seem happy don’t I ? But, today I am very sad. While you were at the beach I got a call that my father died.” I tried to console him. my response was something like “wow, good for him. I bet at ninety seven he was ready to go.” I tried to help however I could I told that of course it was OK to be sad, so long as he was happy that he was sad. Terrible sadness is after all a special rare thing and I am only so pleased when I have the opportunity to feel a stabbing sadness. ( easier said than done)

He thanked me for my words and even said I was wise. I think I told him I was just a kao baba. He told this all to me and then told me that now I couldn’t refuse his ganja. So we smoked and talked hindi. Then we smoked more and talked philosophy, and then we smoked more and talked about shiva, more ganja nd talk of the Babas birthplace Orisa.
I was hallucinating at this point. A bright aura of red and orange was coming from the Babas body we were sitting in a new place now I could see the road behind him and all the lines from the black top came and encircled his head and became a glowing halo his black Tiki, the black ash line he smears up the middle of his forehead is a flame glowing.

What the fuck! I don’t want to see this. Only new age losers go to India and find a guru! Only fools smoke too much weed and see halos around the heads of homeless bums!
He told me at this point that he was going to lay down for some time. he wasn’t going to sleep but he was just going to lay down. I sat with my back against a brick wall, My ass on the sidewalk. I could feel unconsciousness coming over me. It was about four. I had woken up at five the morning before. I was losing track of up and down. Was I laying down or sitting up? I was falling I could wach m e fall into myself with a crash over and over. I didn’t dare to close my eyes with the Baba near. I couldn’t fall asleep if he wasn’t asleep.

After sometime of this struggle I felt the Baba had gone to sleep. I quietly got up and scurried to the safty of my tent on the beach. I set up and thanked the gods I had made it.

a dream tutorial

This Is a very short tutorial on dream practices, I hope to expand on it but until then this is it! I wrote it with a friend in mind, tell me if you have any questions!

Achievement and mastery of the dream world comes in a few steps that can be broken into many more degrees. I will divide them as follows.
1. Remembering of dreams
2. Controlling of dreams
3. Abolishment of dreams.
The first step is as It sounds the initiate must remember his or her dreams.
This can be achieved in a number of ways. Keeping of a journal being one of the most valuable tools in this effort, but is not necessary. There is no reason why one shouldn’t be able to remember two weeks worth of dreams in ones one head. Remembering the last week of dreams once a day will keep your memory, your intention and your will power very sharp and strong. You will be focused very strongly on your dreams if you can do this.
Do reality checks. Ask your self “Am I Dreaming?” or tell yourself “This world is a dream.” Or something like this about six or ten times a day. When this question is asked -This is crucial! – You will want to take a good look around. Make sure everything is as it should be, see if things follow the normal physics of waking life and such! If you can make a book float you may be dreaming, if you are currently flying you may be dreaming. This practice helps focus your attention.
Meditation for an hour in the day is invaluable. When you meditate you may want to affirm that you will notice when you are dreaming and “wake up” during your meditation. Losing your focus during meditation is the same as dreaming. You should repeat this affirmation before going to bed and you should remind yourself to become very, very vigilant in the next few hours of rest. The time you have at night is very little. In order to become a master of the practice remember that you only have some eight hours to practice per night!
In the night we all wake up several times and then go back to sleep. If we wake up and fall back to sleep within four minutes We will not remember what happened in the four minutes of brief semi-consciousness that we experience. You will remember to wake up once in the night, sight up and meditate or go for a short walk; you will stay focused on your goals during this time. Do not walk or sit in meditation for more than an hour as this is detrimental to the practice.

Controlling of dreams.
In order to start controlling our dreams we first need to remember them. We can become lucid and aware in a dream, meet with a spiritual guide or see something very important and then forget it just as quickly as it came to us. So we need to remember the dreams we have. The reality check should help with waking up in your dreams. At some point
In order to start controlling our dreams we first need to remember them. We can become lucid and aware in a dream, meet with a spiritual guide or see something very important and then forget it just as quickly as it came to us. So we need to remember the dreams we have. The reality check should help with waking up in your dreams.
The reality check
At some point you will ask yourself if you are dreaming during a dream, at some point you will not only ask this question you will also answer it affirmatively, and at some point you will answer yes to this question and actually become lucid. At this point you can start to exercise control of your dreams.
Advancing control
Making small goals for yourself can be helpful. Things you can do include: see how fast you can fly, start teleporting, search for and find particular dream characters to speak to. By creating and completing the objectives you set for yourself you will gain further and further mastery of your mind. The advancing of control is also good for the final step of dream work, abolishment of dreams.
Also try, shape shifting into different forms, creating objects or even an entire home to live in, visiting planets or moons.
Prayer and ritual magic work very, very well in your dreams I suggest you try this.
Meditating in you dreams can be wild and I find it often leads to dreams within dreams.
Case study.
My use of a journal is always half hazard. I can often remember many dreams for extended periods of time without the aid, but when I feel that my ability to recall is waning I make sure to start logging my dreams. When you use your notebook have it very near with a pen placed at a blank page. A small light will help, however, you can also try writing in the dark.
At the moment when you wake don’t move or open your eyes. Begin recollecting the dream that you were just having. Repeat the dream to yourself many times and find key themes to the plot. These keys will be easier to grasp than an entire dream. After you open your eyes you will likely notice that you immediately begin to forget your dreams. This is where the keys you found will help. With even just one key in mind you can bring back an entire dream, with three or four key points of a dream you can easily recall it all through out the entire day.
I began by having one or two dreams a night and ended up being able to recall five a night. When I could recall five dreams the dreams began to merge together, eventually I was no longer having many dreams but one dream that lasted all night long, it was all an event that could be recalled very clearly when I rose in the morning. This was made possible by my strict keeping of the corpse pose through the entire night.
When the dreams became this long I had three or four lucid dreams a week and sometimes had more then one per night.
Other interesting things that were developing were an ability to switch back and forth between my dream body and my physical body. This means I could go back to my earth bound body, hear the sounds in the room, feel bodily sensations and then join back with the dream I was just having. This led to some ideas concerning bi-location and theorizing about multiple time streams. The idea is that every dream is just a different time line that we become cognizant of.
The ideas I had were wonderful and inspiring. They were not concerned so much with the abolishment of dreams and abolishment is of the highest priority. Still we need to have fun and enjoy what we do!
Control of the physical body is paramount.
Things you can do to help in this control are as follows: Hold something through out the night. A small semiprecious stone is a very nice thing to hold. I held a piece of polished obsidian –obsidian is a black volcanic glass that is said to have psychologically cathartic properties-
When you can hold the stone throughout the night try placing it on your sternum. Don’t allow the stone to fall onto the bed while you sleep. Obviously in order to do this you will need to be in the corpse pose and you will need to be very still. Next you can place the stone on your forehead. This is a very difficult place to keep the stone, but with serious effort you can achieve this. The rewards given to someone who can do these things are very great.
Abolishment of dreams
This is the end goal, abolish all dreams, connect with “the clear light” with “perfect Samadhi”, “go back to the source”, “unite with the godhead” . The master never dreams I have been told, and I have even experienced this state for a moment, for two nights I followed my consciousness perfectly and remained aware for the entire night.
When you have perfect vision you can descend from “waking consciousness”, to your subconscious or “dreaming mind” and into “deep sleep”. Consciousness of “Deep sleep” Is Samadhi and being in Samadhi allows you to become like a god. This is all a natural process. By remaining still and remaining conscious this will happen. It can’t be forced. It is only by the grace of god that the decent can happen. This journey is made every night; connection with Samadhi is what re-energizes us at night. However, being aware of the process allows us to tap into the power of eternity every night.
You can use aides of concentration to descend, but all luggage has to be thrown out to go to the deepest levels. A mantra has to be dropped, focus of breath eventually needs to be dropped, your mind needs to be perfectly quiet and you must become aware of pure awareness, and aware of the clear light.
The clear light has nothing to reflect off. The clear light will appear as perfect darkness, like the night sky but devoid of stars and clear, clear, clear, crystal clear, perfectly clear and perfectly cold with no heat at all.
Final notes
At my peak I was meditating at least an hour a day. I broke my “sleep” into three chunks that added up to be nine hours. Two three and a half hour long periods of practice at night that were divided by an hour long walk around my property, and a two hour long session of sleep practice in the afternoon. To call what I was doing at this point sleep would be to use a misnomer. I didn’t sleep, I layed in the corpse pose and practiced. My bed was a thin matt placed on a hard wood floor and I used little bedding. This helped keep me aware and in the corpse pose. When on a very hard surface the only position that can be kept without sever pain is a well balanced corpse pose. When I say “well balanced” I mean that your weight is evenly distributed.
I was greatly inspired by Samuel Aun Weor a master from the contemporary Gnostic church who died only very recently. He authored a book called Dream Yoga that is a wonderful introduction to dreaming. It is fifty pages long and you can find it for free on the internet. It’s worth reading.
Also I spent a fair amount of time reading other peoples dream journals and speaking to other Oneironauts on the web site dream views… http://www.dreamviews.com
Finally another very inspirational book is the Tibetan book of the dead. We can thank C.G.Jung for being so involved in the book and helping it come to light. This book describes the death process. The death process described in this book and the process of falling asleep are one and the same. Final liberation at the time of death is the zenith of the dream practice. When we go into the big sleep we ought to catch ourselves dreaming. At that moment we can choose not to be reborn and instead to enter the clear light. Entering the clear light lasts for a duration that is more or less permanent and so problems of being reborn are said to be cleared up.