Unmotivated and restless, no surf, weather oppressive and mood melancholy, needing stimulation, i missed my usual rendezvous with Leary this morning but we did catch up for a cocoa this afternoon. Not much to report, we watched the ocean, flat, no surf, affecting my hormones, feeling sad and somewhat at a loose end, wanting some one to play with, i am about to call Agent Stone when my phone rings and it is her, back from Byron Bay, ready to head into the City for fun, games and shoes.
When it comes's to clothes I have a good eye, i knew what looks good on people and what doesn’t, it's a fairly simple procedure. Yes. No. On. Off. In. Out. The girls in the shoe shop offered good service, it was a pretty cute little shop with nice shoes, unfortunately all girls, Agent Stones Boots where called Fairy, they were kind of sexy high heel numbers. She continued buying up big time while I slipped next door for Unaggi.
Cruising through the city at night, everyone on their way out, lots of smiles, waves, friendly people, mini dramas, stopped in a nice cafe for chai, wandered into HUM for a look at cds, picked up Josh Rouse for a few bucks, very mellow, chilled and lovely harmonies as we cruised home. I felt good, in the company of a good friend and a lovely person, I felt like I can just be me, say what I want, do what I want, be what I want. It was a relief after being with the usual straight mentality of work and the northern beaches. Freak Power rocks and rolls baby.
Supernatural took an unexpected turn in the second part, looking at how the French archaeologists and cave painting experts had a monopoly upon all research for the last 50 years, following theories that are weak and unproven, riddled with inconsistencies, Hancock goes on to support the idea that religion occurred when humans took their first mind altering substances, he suggests that dmt is the root of all religious, mystical and spiritual experience, which is what i have been saying for years. Here's an exceprt which i think is very poinent.

'The true shaman must attain his knowledge and position through trance, vision and soul journey to the otherworld. All these states are reached during a shamanic state of conciousness and not by study and application of a corpus of systematic knowledge.'

Enjoying the roads he is taking me down so far, especially the Shamanic experiences which I find reassuring.
My initiation into the shamanic / magickal path took place when i was very young, possibly encouraged by my fathers side of the family, specifically my grandfather who seemed to possess certain spiritual faculties. Grandfather lived in British India, and had built up a small circus into a huge one that employed hundreds of people. The family lived in a large mansion and had servants, my own father left home when he was very young and has vague memories, but recalls his mother being extremely psychic, having numerous prophetic dreams and being considered quite witch like by her friends and the community. My grandfather had always shown a certain interest in mysticism and had studied Kabbala for most of his life, when his wife died he gave away his fortune and went travelling, only to return years later, old and bearded. I met him twice, he looked like Gandalf, had a huge staff that he took with him where ever he went, a dog by his side and a sparkle in his eyes. He had no money but a presence that was magnetic and commanded respect.
Years later I was travelling in Spain with my father, we were sleeping in twin beds when i woke up and told him of a dream i had that involved grandfather. The dream was about me being a scout, a leader in some sort of expedition into a strange landscape. I came upon a huge doorway that was overgrown with shrubs and vines, clearing the stone above i noticed a Hebrew word, Dubbuk, the door mysteriously opened and i found myself in a long corridor. At one end of the corridor was a staff hovering in the distance, as i stood i felt a slight breeze that grew from a pleasant faint sensation to a full force gale, the stick moving towards me until it was in my reach, i grabbed it and the wind died. I felt an overwhelming presence of my grandfather and woke up to tell my dad. He explained that the word Dubbuk meant spirit.
This was the first in a series of dreams and experiences that shaped my early life. At the time I kind of shrugged it off but in retrospect it had a significant place in my evolution as a magickian.