Sarayu Jones

Sarayu Jones http://sarayujones.posterous.com Otherworld geek and eco freak based in Paris, France posterous.com Tue, 23 Nov 2010 12:34:07 -0800 #TemporalTues Doctor Who 1963, here I come http://sarayujones.posterous.com/temporaltues-doctor-who-1963-here-i-come http://sarayujones.posterous.com/temporaltues-doctor-who-1963-here-i-come

If Riglet manages to crack the code of our time machine I am off to watch the first episode of Doctor Who this evening in 1963. Putting on some early sixties gear for the occasion. Must remember not to be a wally and answer my mobile phone. Better turn it off. Hoping that time travel does not make my memory loss any worse. Also have to make sure I time it so that I arrive just after I leave, 5.15pm to be precise. Did you like the dry way that I said that?

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Riglet has just told me that she has cracked the code of the Chateau Madeleine time machine. We are sitting on its lovely leather seat. The room around us has gone dark. I think we are off.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 14 Sep 2010 12:07:43 -0700 Riglet to the rescue before you can say Doctor Who http://sarayujones.posterous.com/riglet-to-the-rescue-before-you-can-say-docto http://sarayujones.posterous.com/riglet-to-the-rescue-before-you-can-say-docto

Got back safely to Paris and did plenty of retail therapy, then went to see my therapist. My psychologist was intrigued to hear about my Amsterdam murder mystery. When I told her about the magic mushrooms she wanted to know if they brought back any memories. Sadly I had to disappoint her. My mind is as blank as it ever was. The weather does not help either. On my return to Chateau Madeleine I was told that the harvest this year could be a little late and lower than usual because of the rains. This morning I decided to take another look at the time machine next to the library, curious to know if it was real. While I was fiddling around with the brass knobs and bells, my teddy bear, the little one hanging on my bag, decided to say good morning to me. That's all I need, I thought. Start hearing voices, why don't you. It turns out that the little bear is called Riglet and is a nanobot. Riglet offered her services to help crack the code of the time machine. She seems rather smart and much better at math than I am, so I said go ahead. If this works I'll be in 2012 before you can say Doctor Who. If not perhaps I need a reality check.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 07 Sep 2010 12:46:35 -0700 Sarayu in need of retail therapy - please send chocolate http://sarayujones.posterous.com/sarayu-in-need-of-retail-therapy-please-send http://sarayujones.posterous.com/sarayu-in-need-of-retail-therapy-please-send Yesterday we saw the Amsterdam police again. The agents investigating Bill's death told us that they were treating the case as a possible murder. They asked us whether we had known Bill for long. We said that we had only just met him. It was odd that one the detectives on the case was from SOCA in London, and he was curious to know what I was up to in Paris. When I said that I did not know, and that I was being treated for memory loss, he asked me if I did drugs. I replied maybe, but not since I lost my memory. That brought a nervous laugh into the room, a small office in the Raamport police station that was responsible for the Herengracht and the canal area. It seems that I am not known to them, which is a relief. At least I can see my psychologist this week with a clear conscience. It would be scary if I turned out to be some gangsta's moll on the run. Bill told us very little about his life, other than to say that he had fallen on hard times in Amsterdam. He had had a good job in the City in London, but developed an expensive heroin habit and came over to Amsterdam, where he worked as a cannabis breeder. That was how he met Aum Baba, and they fell out over money. He claimed that the Church of Aum had some curious links to the CIA and the Mossad, although much of what he said sounded a bit like the usual ganja paranoia. Perhaps there was a grain of truth in it. If SOCA new about him he must have been up to something, or on to something, that was serious. His 2012 theory does have one odd fact that concerns me. My name is mentioned in the Lost Symbologist philosophers stoned in Amsterdam in which I am supposed to be making a killing with the 2012 meme. I hope that does not come back to haunt me. How I wish I had the access code to Monsieur Bateleur's time machine. Then I could go forward to 2012 and find out what was about to happen. Anyway tomorrow I am off to Paris, and I am badly in need of some retail therapy to take my mind off all this serious shit.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Thu, 02 Sep 2010 06:06:00 -0700 A witch's brew at the Dutch Old Bill http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-withchs-brew-at-the-dutch-old-bill http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-withchs-brew-at-the-dutch-old-bill

Just spent a couple of hours with the Dutch Old Bill, being interviewed about Bill's death. It seems that he was poisoned and dumped in the Herengracht. The Amsterdam police found traces of a witch's brew of datura, henbane, deadly nightshade and mandrake in Bill's body. He must have had quite a trip before he shuffled off this mortal coil. The cops found my number in his mobile, and it seems that Simon and I were the last to see him alive when we met in De Balie the other day. We are not under suspicion but the police have asked us to stay in Amsterdam for a couple more days for some further questioning. They were curious to know more about Aum Baba and the wacky cult of the Church of Aum. When we told them about our recent psychedelic mushroom trip, they wanted to know more. It seems that Aum Baba is well known to them, and has a bit of Dutch previous.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 31 Aug 2010 09:16:00 -0700 The creepy church of Aum Baba http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-creepy-church-of-aum-baba http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-creepy-church-of-aum-baba

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Louis Sébastian Mercier was an early time travel writer born in Paris in 1740. Mercier's L'An 2440, rêve s'il en fut jamais (translated into English as Memoirs of the Year Two Thousand Five Hundred) is a utopian novel set in the year 2440. "Who could resist the temptation to participate in such a thought experiment? And once engaged in it, who could fail to see that it exposed the rottenness of the society before his eyes, the Paris of the eighteenth century?" writes Robert Darnton, in The Forbidden Best-Sellers of Pre-Revolutionary France. Who indeed? As I get used to the strange world around me, I could say the same for 2010. Simon and I are back in Amsterdam, where we have met the odd lot at the Church of Aum, a ragbag collection of stoned old hippies, who meet to drink psychedelic substances and also to engage in a bit of time travel, at least on the spiritual plane. They only eat raw food, and believe that there will be a great cosmic shift in 2012. Their leader is an American runaway with a shady past, who looks like a clone of Osho that had a fight with a biblical prophet in a DNA lab. A touch scary and prone to fits of rage, he believes that "they," by which he means a curious mix of space aliens and American federal agents, as well as the Government, have us all firmly under their control. Our only hope lies in some other aliens who will arrive in 2012 in UFOs and put all to rights again, and set us on the path to enlightenment. In the meantime all we have to do is get stoned, say Aum, and pass the joints around. It's all a bit of harmless fun, or at least so I thought until Simon introduced me to Bill, an English guy who had had a huge falling out with the leader of the sect, known as Aum Baba. Bill told me a rather creepy tale that was partly another 9/11 conspiracy story, only this time with the Mossad and those bad old Zionists in the driving seat. He then went on to talk about another planned terrorist attack on America in December 2012, perhaps a bit far fetched for my taste. The day after, yesterday afternoon, he was pulled out of the Herengracht in Amsterdam, dead.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Wed, 11 Aug 2010 09:22:00 -0700 The door in the wall that never was http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-door-in-the-wall-that-never-was http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-door-in-the-wall-that-never-was

If you don't know where you came from, where you are going is also a bit of a mystery. I found the door in the wall. It was in the chapel, behind the corner dedicated to the Virgin. Dark old wood, probably oak, and rather small, hardly visible simply because it looks so ordinary, and the blue and white Virgin catches all your attention. The door was open and led into the rose garden, through a short tunnel, which was odd, as the rose garden is quite a distance from the chapel. Even odder was that I ended up somewhere else on the way back. In the room next to the library to be precise, looking at the time machine. Going back through the door again, I ended up getting totally lost and came out in the middle of nowhere. It was cold. There was snow on the ground. The chateau had vanished. There were no vineyards, just a dark forest. Returning into the tunnel I must have fallen asleep, and woke up on my sleeping mat back in the chapel. The door had vanished. Where it was there was now just a stone wall.

Sirius rises late in the dark, liquid sky
On summer nights, star of stars,
Orion's Dog they call it, brightest
Of all, but an evil portent, bringing heat
And fevers to suffering humanity. Homer - Iliad

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Image of Sirius A and Sirius B taken by the Hubble Space Telescope

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 03 Aug 2010 11:49:07 -0700 No mo wordes...nuff said http://sarayujones.posterous.com/no-mo-wordesnuff-said http://sarayujones.posterous.com/no-mo-wordesnuff-said

And yif we wil ententifly preie for getyng of goodes, lat us crie, outher with worde or with thought or with desire, nought elles, ne no mo wordes...Cloud of Unknowing

Aye! No mo wordes. Two weeks without them did me a world of good. I dreamed of a door in the wall of the chapel at Chateau Madeleine, and this morning, as I awoke, I saw a note from Monsieur Bateleur to say I should look for the door in the wall. It reminded me of the short story by H.G. Wells. There is an inscription on the wall of the chapel. It says, "La source est dans le mur." The source is in the wall. Is there a secret door to another world, perhaps a world in which I know who I am? Do I need to know? I have everything I need. The past two weeks of silence and solitude have left me feeling it would be better to move forward and forget the past, or rather my lack of a past. As long as it does not creep up on me while I am asleep. Life is cryptic. Sorry, I had to say that after sleeping for two weeks next to a crypt. A crypt with a name, Alphonse LeMat.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sat, 17 Jul 2010 05:39:15 -0700 Unknowing myself - Sarayu Jones is under deconstruction http://sarayujones.posterous.com/unknowing-myself-sarayu-jones-is-under-decons http://sarayujones.posterous.com/unknowing-myself-sarayu-jones-is-under-decons

"This much is certain: when a man is happy, happy to the core and root of beatitude, he is no longer conscious of himself or anything else." Meister Eckhart

"And so I urge you, go after experience rather than knowledge. On account of pride, knowledge may often deceive you, but this gentle, loving affection will not deceive you. Knowledge tends to breed conceit, but love builds. Knowledge is full of labor, but love, full of rest." Cloud of Unknowing

Unknowing comes easy to someone who has lost their memory. For the next two weeks I am going to spend my days and nights quietly in the chapel of Chateau Madeleine. I shall sleep on a Therm-a-Rest Z mat in a lightweight sleeping bag and drink plenty of water with cayenne pepper and lemon juice. For breakfast I'll eat some organic muesli soaked overnight in the cayenne pepper water. For the rest of the day I'll be fasting. I have left instructions not to be disturbed, and in two weeks time I shall post the results of my meditations.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Wed, 14 Jul 2010 12:51:00 -0700 The map is not the territory http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-map-is-not-the-territory-2 http://sarayujones.posterous.com/the-map-is-not-the-territory-2

Today I went to see my psychologist in Paris. On the train I tried a thought experiment. In my imagination I made a map of myself, using the limited information at my disposal. To understand the map I realized that I needed another map, and to understand that map I needed another, and so on, ad infinitum. Self knowledge seemed impossible. Too many pieces of the map were missing. While talking to my psychologist, I decided to leave out the time machine next to the library, and my apparition (or hallucination?), just in case she got the wrong impression. After all, the map is not the territory, and I am only just beginning to realize that my life is not quite as it seems. Chateau Madeleine has many facets, some of them rather strange. Like my maps it seems to have much that is hidden below the surface. My psychologist gave me some standard tests. It seems that I have a vivid imagination, as well as a good grasp of logical symbols and numbers. None of the association tests revealed anything about my past. There seems to be a part of me that I have locked away, and I do not have the key.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 13 Jul 2010 07:58:00 -0700 Vajrayogini for breakfast and a postcard delivered by time machine http://sarayujones.posterous.com/vajrayogini-for-breakfast-and-a-postcard-deli http://sarayujones.posterous.com/vajrayogini-for-breakfast-and-a-postcard-deli

This week I have an appointment with my psychologist in Paris, to discuss my memory loss. She will be happy to hear that I am getting lots of fresh air, good food and exercise in the country, although I don't think that it will be a good idea to tell her that there is a time machine below my bedroom. There is a spooky side to this beautiful chateau, or perhaps my unconscious is playing tricks with me. Last night I swear I saw an apparition in the hallway outside my bedroom. It was a woman dressed in blue and white, with long dark hair. She looked at me, then turned around the corner and vanished. This morning when I awoke there was a rolled up silk painting next to my bed. It was a painting of Vajrayogini, in the center of a mandala. Next to it was a card that read, "To Sarayu with love, Monsieur B." Has the mysterious Monsieur Bateleur returned from his voyage? He was not at breakfast, and Simon has not seen him. The painting looks quite old and original.

The star is a symbol of the alchemical union of male and female, red and white, although the picture belongs to the tantric tradition of Naropa. Four points of the star have triple energy vortexes. Is this a hint of some force that is connected to the time machine? The same symbol is on the machine's red leather seat, without the goddess in the middle. Could Monsieur Bateleur be a time traveler?

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sun, 11 Jul 2010 10:26:12 -0700 Enjoying the fruits of Bertie's field http://sarayujones.posterous.com/enjoying-the-fruits-of-berties-field http://sarayujones.posterous.com/enjoying-the-fruits-of-berties-field

Chambertin is short for Champ de Bertin, named after Monsieur Bertin, who is said to have planted some vines here in the 12th century. Napoleon loved the wine from this village, and used to make sure that he always had a supply with him wherever he went. I do wonder how it must have tasted in the cold Moscow winter. Perhaps he had to warm it before drinking. Warm red wine is said to be good for a cold. Chateau Madeleine is full of surprises. Simon showed me Monsieur Bateleur's time machine this morning. The library has an extensive collection of time travel literature, including a first edition of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. Even more remarkable is the time machine itself, kept in a special room next to the library. Looking just like the one in the Wells novel, it has all the Victorian brass knobs and bells on it, and a very comfortable red chair. In front of the chair is a very modern computer console that looks like something out of Star Trek. I asked Simon if it works. His reply was intriguing. He said that only Monsieur Bateleur has the access code.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Fri, 09 Jul 2010 10:56:00 -0700 Lunch in an ancient temple to Sequoia http://sarayujones.posterous.com/lunch-in-an-ancient-temple-to-sequoia http://sarayujones.posterous.com/lunch-in-an-ancient-temple-to-sequoia

Lunch today was divine. Everything here is divine. Just south of Dijon, in the Côte-d'Or, Chateau Madeleine dates back to the 15th century, although the chapel was built for Cistercian monks in the 12th century. The monks also planted the first vines, but the chapel is built on a Roman site that was probably a temple to the Celtic goddess Sequoia, so perhaps the Romans also grew grapes here. The chateau was extensively rebuilt in the 18th century, by which time the library was one of the largest private collections of books in Europe. Today I met Jennifer, a lovely American woman, who is the librarian. She is a botanist and a keen amateur gardener. The library has a large collection of books about wine, which is no surprise. What amazed me though, is the vast collection of esoterica in all languages, including Sanskrit. Monsieur Bateleur is part owner of Domaine Madeleine, and apparently a keen collector of mystical and arcane literature. The countryside is lovely, and the chateau gardens are full of ancient trees, as well as a beautiful rose garden, and an organic farm that provides us with delicious fresh vegetables. Although I am mostly vegetarian, I just had to try the boeuf bourguignon we had for lunch. Organic, and cooked in the domaine's own red wine, it was just awesome. To finish we had some delicious goat's cheese from the Chèvrerie de la Pierre Longue. It is magical here, and I feel as if I am in a dream world, and just hope that I don't wake up.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Wed, 07 Jul 2010 11:32:00 -0700 A large biodynamic Domaine Madeleine, s'il vous plait http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-large-biodynamic-domaine-madeleine-sil-vous http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-large-biodynamic-domaine-madeleine-sil-vous

After an intense 24 hours in Amsterdam I am getting tired of cities. On my arrival back in Paris this evening, Simon took me to Chez Arthur after meeting me at the Gare du Nord. He understood when I told him that I needed a rest. Just before I left Amsterdam I had a total blackout, and for a while I didn't have a clue where I was or why. Simon has invited me stay at his family vineyard in Burgundy, Domaine Madeleine. They make delicious organic pinot noir, biodynamic and very expensive. The land is ploughed by horses, and the grapes are picked by hand. I'll be going back to the future in the vineyards. The chateau dates from the 15th century, and has a large library where I can lose myself for days at an end. It sounds like a dream come true. Tonight I'm going to pack the minimum that I need, and tomorrow morning I'm going to catch the train to Dijon. A month ago today I lost my memory. It is time to forget the past and look to the future. Perhaps in the quiet of the countryside my mind can settle. Whatever I have lost is gone forever. I'm gonna fill the gap with good food and great wine, and go horse riding.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 06 Jul 2010 12:48:00 -0700 Lost? Me? Never! http://sarayujones.posterous.com/lost-me-never http://sarayujones.posterous.com/lost-me-never Just arrived in a ghost town. There must have been a mega virus that hit Amsterdam. The streets are empty. Everywhere is quiet. Oops, sorry. Voetball. Football. Holland are playing Uruguay, and everyone in the city is glued to a TV set. Yet it feels like another world. I am to meet an old friend in "de Peper," an alternative vegan bistro in OT301. We are to be initiated into what, as Monsieur Bateleur's friend Simon told me last night over dinner, is known as the third force. The balance of Ma'at and the three points of the kila are symbolic of this energy. It is the cosmic glue that holds everything together. Apparently Monsieur Bateleur is doing research into some ancient manuscripts that tell of the mystery of this cosmic force, which is why he has gone on an expedition to discover the key to a Mayan Codex in his possession. Me? Lost? Never! Just a little confused.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Mon, 05 Jul 2010 08:52:00 -0700 A little dissociative fugue http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-little-dissociative-fugue http://sarayujones.posterous.com/a-little-dissociative-fugue

Today I went to see a neurologist, a specialist in cases of memory loss. Apparently I have no external or internal signs of trauma. My CT scan showed no trace of injury to the brain. The neurologist could find no explanation for my memory loss. She made a referral for me to see a psychologist, to investigate the possibilities of helping me to regain my memory. One odd thing came up in my blood test. My serology showed a high IgG immunity against cobra venom. It seems like I will have to become an archaeologist of my own past. My procedural memory seems to be still intact. I can speak English, French and German. I can do stuff like cooking or updating Twitter. I can ride a bicycle. What I do not know is who are my friends, where has my life gone, and why I am here in Paris. The neurologist has made a provisional diagnosis of dissociative fugue, which is quite a rare condition. This evening I am going to have dinner with a friend of Monsieur Bateleur. The invitation was in my letterbox this morning. There is a lovely little black dress in the wardrobe, that is just my size. All I need now is the right bag to go with it.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sun, 04 Jul 2010 12:31:00 -0700 Freude am Ufer http://sarayujones.posterous.com/freude-am-ufer http://sarayujones.posterous.com/freude-am-ufer

This weekend I read Siddhartha again. Hesse's hippie classic, "this mystery of me being alive, of me being one and being separated and isolated from all others" seems to have changed in my imagination. Perhaps my mother told me tales of the sixties, and inspired me to read it the first time. Although I remember the beginning and the end, most of the middle had vanished in the mists of time. Now I wonder will I also end up a ferryman somewhere, far away from Buddhas, lovers and children. Knowing me as I do, in all of these few weeks, the river would have to be somewhere near a good coffee merchant. Drinking blood is fine but first thing I prefer a good espresso. My own particular isolation was interrupted this afternoon by Madame Solaire, a Parisian tarot reader. After finding two cards from the major arcana on the table in my apartment, I decided to consult an expert. Madame Solaire is a wildly eccentric old lady, a medium who lives in an apartment not that far from my own, surrounded by thousands of old books, in the company of a sweet tabby cat called Suzi. She made a pot of Earl Grey tea and shuffled her Rider Waite deck, pulling three cards from the top. "Mon Dieu!" she said. I was looking at the High Priestess, the Star and the World. "You are about to meet a goddess." "Bring her on." I thought. Then I wondered why Madame Solaire was so sure about what she was saying. Was I a dyke? It seemed that I was about to have a very deep and important spiritual experience. Keep taking the Hesse, the cynic in me thought. Remember Diogenes, who asked Alexander the Great to stop blocking the sun. He lived in a wine barrel, on a diet of onions. He masturbated in the marketplace, something I do not recommend you try out yourself in these less enlightened times. Did Diogenes make a virtue of naked survival out of necessity, or did he really prefer poverty and homelessness? Perhaps my goddess can tell me the answer.

Rachel Pollack's Tarot Wisdom: Spiritual Teachings and Deeper Meanings

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Wed, 30 Jun 2010 08:38:00 -0700 Sisters in arms http://sarayujones.posterous.com/sisters-in-arms http://sarayujones.posterous.com/sisters-in-arms Reading the Trinosophia I am reminded of something on the edge of my consciousness, a memory of a distant time and place, where I was on a journey with friends. It was a warm evening and the sun's last rays were shining on the walls of an old temple. A priestess dressed in purple, with a gold crown that had a golden serpent in the middle of her forehead, was chanting in an ancient tongue I could not understand. My friends and I seemed to be preparing for a long journey, and the priestess was giving us her blessing. Then she pulled out a three pointed dagger that looked like a kila, and pierced her heart. It bled but she did not die. Her blood was collected in a silver cup by two of the women who attended her. They added some spices to the blood and each of us drank from the cup. The drink made me shiver and I fell to the ground, my head spinning. Lying in my own vomit I stared at the dust and could not move. As it says at the end of the Trinosophia "I took up the sword and struck the sun, reducing it to dust. I then touched it and each molecule became a golden sun like the one I had broken." The dust turned into stardust. The earth vanished and I found myself in the night sky, almost able to touch the stars.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Tue, 29 Jun 2010 07:38:00 -0700 Monsieur Bateleur's Vajrakila http://sarayujones.posterous.com/monsieur-bateleurs-vajrakila http://sarayujones.posterous.com/monsieur-bateleurs-vajrakila

When I arrived back in Paris there was a letter waiting for me at my Left Bank apartment. It was from a firm of lawyers in Liechtenstein, informing me that a Monsieur Bateleur had left me the apartment for an indefinite period while he was away on a very long expedition. All expenses would be paid by Monsieur Bateleur's representatives. On the table in the main reception room were two tarot cards from the Tarot de Marseilles, Le Mat, the fool, and Le Bateleur, the magician. Was I the fool? The apartment is in one of the most fashionable parts of Paris, so I guess Monsieur Bateleur is not short of money. Also on the table was a copy of The Most Holy Trinosophia, or The Most Holy Threefold Wisdom by the Count of St. Germain. It seems to be an original 18th century edition, according to the date on the frontispiece. My mother loved crossword puzzles. I wish she were here now to help me solve this one. The Trinosophia is written in code. Hanging on the wall is an old Tibetan thangka of Vajrakila in union, holding a phurba (Sanskrit - kila), or ritual dagger, the consciousness used by the shaman in order to fly into other worlds and realities. Well I seem to have flown into this one. As Alice would say, curiouser and curiouser.

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Thu, 24 Jun 2010 11:01:26 -0700 Fast synchronicity on a sunny afternoon http://sarayujones.posterous.com/fast-synchronicity-on-a-sunny-afternoon http://sarayujones.posterous.com/fast-synchronicity-on-a-sunny-afternoon This afternoon something odd happened. After an overnight delay I was heading to the Centraal Station to catch my train to Paris. Walking along an Amsterdam canal in the afternoon sun, I recognized someone coming towards me. They said, "Hi Sarayu! I can't stop. I'm in a hurry." and then rushed off into the crowd. I was shocked and unsettled, but could not remember their name or how I might know them. Perhaps it was an hallucination. The sun was shining directly in my eyes. She was a woman between forty and fifty maybe. Even odder was the fact that in the morning I had the feeling that I would meet someone I know today near the station. It was a fast piece of synchronicity. This morning I read this on the Lost Symbologist. "It was as if I had traveled full cycle. Now it was time to return to Earth as a woman, to leave the world of the spirit and take on flesh and bones. For the very first time I became aware of the state of limbo I had been in, a spirit seeking incarnation." That was the moment when I had the intuitive feeling I would meet someone who would recognize me. Am I a recent arrival on this planet? If so, where do I come from?

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Wed, 23 Jun 2010 09:24:28 -0700 Waking up from the dreamtime http://sarayujones.posterous.com/waking-up-from-the-dreamtime http://sarayujones.posterous.com/waking-up-from-the-dreamtime Although I am fully grown my conscious life stretches back just over two weeks. Could it be that I am a time traveler who has just simply materialized out of nowhere, a nomad from another part of spacetime? Last night I had a strange dream in which I seemed to be slipping out of reality. In the dream I was falling down the side of a vast wall, trying to hold on to a thread that felt like a piece of electric wire. Today I am going to return to Paris, back to the Left Bank apartment where I woke up in this strange new world. I can read and think in French so perhaps I have a connection somewhere in France that can give me a clue. My email account has no contacts so there is nobody to ask if they know me. My emotional state goes through cycles of depression and a sort of false lightness, a kind of carefree, no worries or responsibilities sort of feeling. Something is telling me that I have lost someone. I just wish I knew who they were. Do I come from the magical World Cloud, or have I been living in a dream state, from which I have just woken up?

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]]> http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/460460/sarayujones.jpg http://posterous.com/users/3sTt1SV7FICR Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones Sarayu Jones