Blood and Ashes

If I were a tree, I’d be able to count my rings, and see clearly the phases where drought or flood or other crises affected me.

I’m starting to feel like that is just as real for humans, we just can’t see it nearly as well. And one thing that would be sharply apparent to any botanical-psychic researcher would be the times I stepped away from viewing for a few weeks or more.

The rings would show the severe “pulling back” of a psyche, as if severe drought had set in for awhile. Then it would show the painful, frustrating process of “recovery” over time.

A viewing expert would say with insight, “Ah, yes. When you try to view and nothing comes. When you feel the tensing in your lower stomach as if of fear. When you somehow feel as if such a process ought to be impossible. When you have lost the ability to “dive” and lost the belief-system props, built and maintained every day like the muscle of the psychic body, that “hold the door open” for psi to happen.”

It’s agony. It’s like tearing off a bandaid that is pulling out hair.

And it’s all my fault. I got busy, I got distracted, it wasn’t convenient, I didn’t force it, and now I am starting ALL OVER AGAIN — as always. As a million times.

And I will progress at unnatural speeds once I start, making more apparent my length of experience, but I will be nearly retarded at it initially, and I will have lost some of my data-type progression that I had improved at most recently. So I’ll be mostly incompetent for a month, if I view daily, and then finally my belief system and the daily practice will click in and I’ll start changing back to the viewer I used to know.

But it is So. Damned. Hard. When the ‘restart’ period comes.

I don’t know why I do this to myself. I know very well how much my left brain belief systems lean against psi every single day and how important it is that I force that door to stay open with constant viewing.

And yet I keep letting it lapse. Usually just as it’s getting way more interesting than it’s ever been. And then I have to start all over again. And I’m looking at my lab book waiting for the slightest impression of anything to arrive.

It doesn’t help to know I deserve it.
.