Monday morning. I’d had four nights of actual sleep. First since 12/9. Not long, but long enough. I felt close to human again. I’d found my Aeon Rosary when cleaning and begun wearing it recently. It had been months since I had it. I’d done one brief Aeon round once, what, a week ago maybe.

I felt the key stones, all the way around, but felt sure I was missing someone. The first stone. I remember how the patterns on it seemed to matter, it was part of the match to the Aeon. Who was I forgetting? I got the other eleven. I felt abashed, like it was an insult that I would forget, to the Aeon, to myself, and a statement on six weeks of ridiculous work schedule insanity but more importantly, on completely ignoring myself for that long. [Turns out: Ithikah. I have forgotten him before, also.]

The rosary, it is in the old Aeon sequence I began with, and not the revised sequence I remade, based mostly on my loose new association with them, after my previous experiment out of sheer curiosity (having read Steinbrecher refer to Roberts’s Seth as a 9th House Guide) over whether their natures might seem to correspond with the energy of the astrological houses.

I need to do several Aeon rounds, I told myself. I am profoundly overdue. So I took a couple long slow breaths, and I turned to the Aeon at the top of the circle now (which is not the first, actually it is the 9th), Hot Amanakhaton.

*

Hot Amanakhaton began as an extremely oversized gold-toned egyptian-esque statue, when I first met him. I didn’t really know what to do with him given he was not like all my other Aeons which, although they ranged from people to almost-people to some energy I didn’t really have a perceived form for, at least had the good grace to communicate with me. Hot (prounounced ‘Hote’) was an object, which was novel.

So I sat on its shoulders and talked to it, or imagined its oversized hands holding mine while I communicated. And gradually it morphed into a man, though it took awhile. The last time or two we’d talked, he had introduced himself to me as a regular person and said his friends called him Jiri. A nickname. So I did too. Our relationship had been improving. I didn’t know what I would find now. Would he have regressed back into the statue?

I closed my eyes and imagined myself with him. Jiri? I asked inside myself, as if to look for him.

He threw himself into a hug with me and said hello with such delight I was almost taken aback. He had never been that clear to me, let alone that enthusiastic.

How is it we feel so much closer? I asked him, delighted but bewildered.

Things go on while you aren’t paying attention, he laughed with a grin, still seeming so happy to see me.

I thought my work would stomp over my connect to all of you, I said with some surprise. It’s just so great to find our relationship has actually improved. Wow.

I have something to show you! He exclaimed, nearly bouncing with enthusiasm. His delight was infectious and I had to laugh a little. He’s never been like this for me. Never so communicative. Never so animated. Let alone done or said anything that was that much a surprise to me, at least that I recall.

I let him take me by the hand and he led me out the door to a very sunny place that had an interesting combination of feelings. To him it felt like this was a whole city. To me it felt like it was that and yet, was really a collection of structures and people quite small — nothing like the size of what we today call a city. To him it felt like the city was very advanced and industrious, like the sort of thing a person might travel to live in if they were ambitious and wanted to be in the hub of things. To me it felt like there was a certain thing I can only call cultural elegance although it took me awhile to sort that feeling into words, but it also felt not at all modern, yet not old-fashioned the way we think of our history; more like during the days of cultures we now have only the ruins and artifacts of.

He felt a sense of strength and imposing of many of the structures we passed, as he dragged me along in a way that seemed to ‘blur time’ — which also seemed to mean all detail — as we passed from where we began to somewhere else, but I think to me only metal feels the way he felt, and taller structures; this seemed more like smaller edifices of stone. We came to some kind of structure. Still in blur-time motion, the only phrase I can give it, we went to what seemed a second level of it, which to him felt higher and ‘grander’ and more ‘overlooking’ its ground from a window above, than it did to me.

Overall we had different feelings at the same time. I wondered if I were ‘with’ him in the way that a few other intelligences have sometimes been with me, where they experienced my reality and I felt our different perspectives on it at the same time. Or like how with the Four we often share one mind and four perspectives and sometimes I have trouble keeping track of who is thinking what at times, although the others don’t seem to have any issue with it.

We were in a small room, maybe 8 foot by 12 foot. There was a variety of stuff all over, most on the ground, but the focus was something like a small table in the middle of a room and something on it. The thing and his understanding of it were so unusual I had a hard time wrapping my brain around it. It is what I feel, from my own world, is impossible. A logical contradiction. He had invented a technology of sorts, that much was clear. No moving parts. It was made of metal, possibly some gold and other things. It wasn’t the most beautiful thing but that wasn’t the point.

Watch This! he tells me, feeling that delight all through him, and I watched. He concentrated. He held the focus. He “triggered” something “present” in it, on it, part of it, with his mind; something made of mind, something physical in energy yet not physical in form. And it began to glow. Slowly at first, and then moreso. Not powerfully like things in my world. But the understanding he had of it, of the amazing, first-ever, important-to-the-world feeling he had for it came through to me. They have no artificial light in his world, I understood, except fire. The part that was kind of staggering me though was that this discovery, this technological invention, had some kind of psychic component, as if part of the tech were literally a thought form embodied. Like what you might call a talisman of technology. Something built over a lot of work and time and in some certain ‘intuitive yet complex’ way, anchored in a little bit of gold which seemed uniquely capable of doing so, that made it as real as anything else. When triggered by intent with focus, it glowed. Like a dark-golden orb. Not a ton of light. But a radical difference than the dark.

He was so excited, and so proud, I couldn’t help but get caught up in it. You’re a genius! I exclaimed with amazement, impressed as hell, and he felt how genuinly impressed I was, how I really believed he was, and he damn near pulsed with delight, as if our emotion fed each other in a sort of upward spiral that made it more powerful for both of us. He felt like he had invented something that some people would be so proud of him for, like leaders, and like he had done something for his whole people. He had a clear sense of the culture-changing implications of it. He could hardly contain himself! I couldn’t help but be affected by it.

I wondered about the tech. I thought about Jiri in more detail, from my own perspective, not shared. I never felt that he was specifically Egyptian when a statue, though it was easier to call it that, only that he was egyptian-esque. Perhaps more like the Queen, who feels pre-Egyptian as I used to call her, like she shared the archetype of what this concept is for me, yet is from some era prior to most of what we call history. (And she actually has a long head, it’s not just something some artist stylized, that is really just what her body is like.  Since meeting her in ’95 I’ve suspected that the Egyptians weren’t just adopting a style out of thin air on that, but were actually trying to be like her people, who had come before; the long head recognized a genetic trait that came to be associated with royalty. Maybe, perhaps, like a golden aura has been clearly seen and associated with spirituality, and eventually anyone considered to be holy (or allegedly holy by ‘official station’) got painted with a light around their head, but there was actually good reason for that when it first began.)

I turned my attention back to the sense of him again. His feelings brought out the part of me that in some other probability is a mad scientist, with test tubes in a garage lab or something, that reads a book ike The Secret Life of Plants and can hardly stand that I’m not doing my own research about the world.  I just kind of “sat quietly ‘with’ him” for a bit, as he did something I wasn’t clear on, and then I was struck by a novel sort of idea.

Jiri, I said, feeling playful and delighted and curious and interested, Do you suppose that you and I could work together on something, somehow, the two of us, our energy?

Multiple near-simultaneous cycle-waves of rushing-energy crashed through my whole body as his response.

Wow! I guess that’s a yes!

It occurred to me suddenly how glad I was that somehow, we were closer than we were six weeks ago when I quit meditating. That I’m just really lucky that rapport mysteriously got better instead of worse during that period. That’s it’s so cool to have these parts of me that are OF me and to be able to commune with them.

Thank you for being here, I thought at him, and as I “felt” the “thankfulness,” a ‘rush’ equal to my feeling passed through me. It was almost like just the emotion of thankfulness created a degree of ‘merge’.

I did it again, paying attention now. Thank you, I “felt” at the same time I thought it. A warm rush of warm-gold-blend went through me with the feeling. I abandoned the words, him, everything but the feeling itself:

Thankfulness. Rush. They were clearly connected. The feeling had naturally reduced and the response had reduced to match it perfectly. I tried this several times, the feelings mutually reducing some each time, but repeating together half a dozen more times before I stopped.

Maybe that is why that feeling of thankfulness is so important in metaphysical work. Maybe it creates or opens up to some degree of merge with self.

**

I couldn’t move on. After that, I mean, in the Aeon round. I mean how the hell do you top that. Everybody else’s small meeting, where we join hands and just commune together for several breaths, would almost seem silly both to Jiri and to them. So I went to the kitchen and made myself meat, which I’d been too lazy to do before but suddenly had the urge to eat.

**

Later I called Bolehren. Bo? I queried inside me.

She was warm and with me. Nothing like Jiri had been but a nice connect.

You know, I said as we ‘communed’ for a minute, given I still after all this time have no female friend around me, someone to have coffee with or something, I guess you and I’s relationship must not be so good, since you deal with personal relationships of all kinds but I sense that also clearly means friends. But I don’t feel like I am separated from you, so go figure.

I got what I can only call “exasperation” from her, and then a sudden major *ping* of my best friend, along with the “layered realization” that if I’d sat down and listed every awesome thing I wanted in a friend, including just being way better than I probably deserve frankly, he would fit every one, aside from the “being local” part.  And I got how much I have a positive relationship with most people I work with, and generally with my kid, and online… and I actually had to apologize. It was embarrassing that I would have so much good in my life, and totally ignore it.

I sat in the normal way I do with the eons: our hands together like in joined prayer, and both of us with our forehead against our hands, breathing close together, in unison.

I haven’t done any more than that yet. Still need to get through the rest of the round and someday prior to end of the world, might actually meditate again — what a concept!

P