|Shamanism: Shamanic experiences|
|The following excerpts are accounts of shamanic experiences, excerpted from books by Jack Haas|
|To view all books by Jack Haas, click here.|
| ...The spirit realm is thick and lousy with misguided entities, dark energy, parasitic spirits, and untameable ghosts. It is a realm in which souls are won and lost, repressions are given power, and courtesy is unheard of. It is anarchy, feudalism, slavery, monarchy, and the ever shifting sands of a plastic reality, all thrown into a tangled heap of intermingling wills and energies, creating a kaleidoscopic pandemonium stuffed inside a madhouse run by no one. And this is why I do not enjoy it, for I have faced many trials, many near disasters, many troubling moments, and odd encounters in that twilight frontier.
…One of the oddest happenings which occurred to me in the spirit realm came at a time when certain dominant aspects of my life were attempting to take full control of the wheel, so to speak. In this case, as in many others, my will and intent behind such a push inevitably exposed an unexpected energy, or spirit, attempting to intentionally obstruct me, or perniciously lurking in the shadows, for one pathetic or nefarious reason or another. It is astonishing how many desperate, destructive, and deceitful beings exist in this pandemonic realm in which all our spirits commingle, commune, and commit crimes.
The event of which I speak was completely idiosyncratic, unexpected, and hard for me to handle, and came about one evening when I had awoken from a dream in which I was being symbolically shown that there was some form of intrusion or intruder obstructing the furthering of my highest pursuits. Upon awakening in the middle of the night I remained in that pseudo-conscious, lucid state where the mundane and spiritual realms mix visibly. In that state I recognized a female spirit clinging onto me. She was not being aggressive nor evil, but soon I realized that neither was she planning to let go. That was when I understood- as such things are understood in that state, as in dreams, without proof or explanation- that she was the soul of a miscarried relative of mine, who had been lost before I was born, and so she had been holding onto me ever since I came through my mother's womb, so as to remain a part of our family. It was apparent that my spiritual pursuits and efforts had finally exposed her, though she had been hidden to me, and in me, for thirty-five years, and now had no desire to leave.
Nothing could be done to diplomatically persuade her to leave, and yet I was fully determined to extricate her from my being, for she was off of her own path, and encumbering mine. And, let me tell you, it was no small effort to pull her off and drive her away. She kept coming back with greater and greater tenacity each time I attempted to drive her away, and I had to dilute my care for her and give myself to the spiritual violence necessary in order to liberate myself from her clutches. This was all happening in the sublime realm, and when the ensuing battle was finally over I called on any spirit helpers available to come and guide her away from me and towards her own necessary path, and new life, which they did.
|Excerpted from ROOTS AND WINGS: adventures of a spirit on earth, by Jack Haas.|
| ...I found myself one night sitting back with my eyes closed and witnessing what I could never truly describe but what I can best suggest as the dynamic, uncreated, convulsing, primordial energy of the universe; the fiery, orgiastic rippling cauldron of molten prima materia, cascading about within me, and then pouring out into the world as form ; and it was upon opening my eyes that I recognized what I had never conceived as plausible- that I was carrying within myself this living, undulating, cosmic clay which I was projecting out and thus manufacturing the world; which is to say, I knew then that ...I was God, and that we are all God, effortlessly producing a world yet without a clue of how we are doing it. I was making everything that night. The whole thing. That is, I was making the world, but not the I who the world thought I was, not even the nobody who I was, but the I which lives before the me in all of us; the original self, casting out the glowing, red, swirling energy of creation, out of the core, out of the mind of God, out into the realm of form, figure, and content.
And let me tell you I was laughing. I was laughing a laugh I had never laughed before in my life. I was laughing God's laugh- the God-laugh which has never known care, nor worry, nor entrapment; the God-laugh which sprays out the universe from the immanent, infinite, incomprehensible bliss of formless consciousness; the great, emancipating God-laugh of hilarious nonexpectation, disbelief, and ambitionless wonder at the impossibility and unavoidable realization that I, God, was creating the miracle of creation.
I had come to exist in the non-existent space. An infinite bridge across a finite chasm. A flame within an inferno. A drop inside the storm.
I was in the storm. I was the storm. And everything else sped up and catapulted through the living stasis of my soul. It was an exhilarating, innocent act of creation; I gave ground in the hollow of my wonder and the world grew through that infinite hole. The unworldly, horrible stillness in which I basked seemed impossibly to produce the song of everything else. How is that possible I haven't a clue. Not one.
I can only presume that the whole shmeer about becoming what you are, or what you could be- but as yet you never have been- eventually comes right back to where it started- to you. But when it gets there- and let me tell you it gets there, with all the fire and brimstone of your day- there is no 'you' left to conceive of it. Because, instead, you conceive it, immaculately conceive it.
That night the prisoner and the warden had changed places. Good and Evil fused into one. And God leapt up for joy inside of me....
|Excerpted from IN, AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey, by Jack Haas.|
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