Back in the summer of 1998, I was on my first stint living in Europe (principally in Germany) and a writer for Rob Brezsny’s “Televisionary Oracle” online magazine. The series eventually became known as “Planet Waves” and when TVO ended publication, I spun Planet Waves off as a new independent project. A little while ago, I was searching for the data for one of the alternative United States charts — one called Scorpionic America, but my old friend (the late) David Solté — and I found a mirror archive of the old TVO site. I thought I would share it with you — it seems to speak of today as much as any other day. I plan to give the Scorpionic America chart a look; I’ll tell you what I find. — efc
Today I’ve been practicing the great discipline of doing nothing. Of the two types of discipline necessary to get anything worthwhile accomplished, this one is by far the more difficult to master, or even to find out about. It must be some kind of national security secret or information reserved for 33rd degree Masons.
Then, huddled under an umbrella over coffee and books at an outdoor cafe in Freiburg im Bresgau, Germany, it starts to come over me: That cosmic feeling. First I notice my sense of visual perspective. The beautiful geometry of physical space suddenly becomes vivid, like I’m peering into a dimension that’s usually covered by some kind of veil. The umbrellas and the ground create a narrow band of space, and I notice that I feel perfectly safe and perfectly protected here. Then, something changes in the way my body feels and I feel like I’m moving in space–subtle, barely noticeable, very distinct.
My senses register the normal activity of the world around me, yet a greater silence has encompassed everything. I rest gently within it, just sitting in my chair, looking, listening.
It’s a few hours before the New Moon, quiet on the psychic planes, and I’ve already decided not to push myself today. The New Moon is a great time for being introspective. A peculiar normality washes over all the lunatics in the world, and they leave you alone. Now I notice that everything around me is in tune and in focus, more clear and vivid with the increase of a soft, invisible light. This light comes with a sense of perfection and harmony, and the light and the feeling are one thing. Soon there’ll be a $15 bulb you can buy in health food stores that emits this stuff.
But I’m not in a euphoric or a high-up state of mind; in fact, I feel pretty regular and low-to-the-ground. Right on the ground, in fact. Now I can feel the fact that I am on the planet, sitting on its surface, on the very outer skin of its surface, and that it’s a small planet, and that the planet is moving through space in a very obvious way. But everything is just fine here. We’re not about to collide with anything. Everything is developing perfectly. A deep sense of peace surrounds and fills me, and it’s getting larger, and I look around to see if anyone else notices. Nope. Life proceeds as normal. People are still sitting under the umbrellas talking. . . .