reflections of an uncarved block

Tonight I went to my hypnotherapy teacher's book release party. A small crowd really, and I only saw one woman from the group I graduated with, and many of them are locals.

It was nice to see my teachers again, and to feel the confidence in the magic of the power of belief, of mind over matter, or mind within matter, if you will.

It all felt right and good and I bought the book because I know it is excellent and because I seem to look for anything of substance to fill the black hole in my being right now.

A famous white man, a physicist in his 60's was there. He's written a couple of books about shamanism, as he was an accidental non-believing tourist who got himself the Amazonian medicine journey and because of his phd and neo freudian looks make him the perfect neo priest to feed another exotic neo wafer to the hungry masses. His wife, Sierra, was the one woman from my class there. She and I lived in the same neighborhood in SF this time last year and we chatted about getting together and practicing and about some get together called Lotus Soup that happens the last Wednesday of every month somewhere I've now forgotten. Ah well.

I think I may have been Richard Farina in my past life. He was a real fucker, and I both dislike him and may be envious of him. Neither is good. I mean either is bad.

I think I am running out of ectoplasm.

I have been listening to Ani's Reckoning which is either a really good idea, or a really bad one, not sure.

I do think I've decided that I'm going to learn the Hawaiian slack key guitar playing method. I love the sound. Been playing that music a lot too, and tonight heard some live. Idea is to play the lovely haunting lullaby type music with folk song lyrics in English.

Something that has cracked me up is how confortable Stella has made herself here in her new room. She lounges out much more than she did in my last room and she specifically likes sleeping on the computer/desk chair.