Top image: In my study earlier today, shows journals beside journals within journals\r\n\r\nThe most consistent message I\u2019ve gotten for decades from the spirit world, and just a couple of days ago from \u201cJack\u201d (no claim as to whether this is his spirit, and\/or a subpersonality or inner daemon that takes his form) that an edge of hunger from a highly restrictive dietary regimen opens my connection to the spirit world. \u00a0\u201cJack\u201d has said that as being true in general and especially true in opening communication him and being able to write Parallel Journeys. \u00a0(A sample of such a communication from him will be excerpted later) Yesterday was the third consecutive day of following such a regimen, and, as has happened many times before, and as the spirit voices so often promise, that seems to have caused or at least correlated with a zone of high strangeness.\r\n\r\nYesterday there was a kind of trick, perhaps that my unconscious played on me, related to Jack. About a year ago, going through some papers in storage, I found a huge cache of Jack\u2019s writings, stories and journals he left in safe-keeping with me when he left Boulder. I had forgotten that I had these. He had also told me to hold them for him, but not to read them, so I hadn\u2019t until I found them around them around 12 or 14 months ago.\r\n\r\nGoing through a box of papers yesterday I found a few things related to Jack. One was a photo Christmas card\u00a0 that had been created by Jack\u2019s family several years ago.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nIt is of his nuclear family. Jack was the middle child with a younger sister and an older brother Anyway, it\u2019s striking because Jack so dominates the photo. He is positioned as the central dot of the five side of a traditional six-sided cube dice. He has his arm around both his mother and sister while no one else is touching anyone else and the camera angle makes him look larger than anyone else. I also found two unopened, Wells Fargo bank statements sent to Jack. One showed that he had a $7 starting balance, had one transaction, a withdrawl of $5 leaving a balance of $2. The next one showed no transactions and that his balance was still $2.\u00a0 But, by far the most striking thing I found was what appeared to be a twenty-page letter from Jack to me with some startling emotionally intense opening lines accusing me of lacking enough passionate intensity to be intimate with him. They weren\u2019t lines I could remember ever reading, but it certainly looked like his handwriting.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\ninterdimensional Traveler altar with the journals and letter on the far right, where I found them waiting for me this morning\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\nI decided to leave this letter in a kind of altar in my study so that I could read the next morning with more sacred concentration. \u00a0I added it to an antique letter I found from the 19th century, also put aside there yesterday as a curiosity. \u00a0I also found a 21-page typed journal I had written just before the start of an intense summer adventure and misadventure in June of 1985 when I was 27 years old. I added that to the other papers on the altar.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSo, after awaking from intense dreams and getting set up for my morning, pre-dawn session in my study, I pulled the papers from the altar. I soon discovered that I had tricked myself, or something had tricked me. The 20-page letter, which has handwriting that looks so much like Jack\u2019s, was not written by Jack, but was an extremely emotionally intense letter written by a young wife, at least she seemed very young, to her husband, with whom she was feeling extremely unhappy. It was probably never shared as it turns into a journal in which she analyzed how her troubled relationship with her mom parallels the situation with her husband and then there are self-help like things she writes to herself, what she needs to do to create change, etc.\r\n\r\nI got this letter via an extremely odd, perhaps synchronistic chain of custody. Many years ago I bought what looked like a brand new legal pad, with lined, purple-colored sheets from a thrift store. Sometime after I got it, perhaps months or years later, I was working my way through its pages when I discovered that the last 20 pages or so were full of someone\u2019s writing.\u00a0 That letter resurfaced yesterday, amidst the other things found related to Jack and the handwriting looks so much like his so it seemed so certain that I had found another Jack writing cache.\r\n\r\nAnother document I found yesterday was an article I published in the Ursinus College Newspaper in 1977-78. It was an editorial---I was the arts and culture editor of the paper. It was an article that my acting mentor, Dr. Joyce Henry, would have read now that I think about it.\r\n\r\nLast line cut off, last words were "be ready for what comes after."\r\n\r\nIn the last dream I wrote about, Dr. Henry was the one whose class I had been failing to attend and I woke up wanting to read a play for that class. The article seems well written and showed how much, by 19 or 20, I already had the in-your-face, confrontational prose writing style with a cascade of insights leading to an unexpected ending just like the article I wrote for Reality Sandwich last week. It showed me how much my voice or writing style, at least when writing from my own perspective, had formed early on.\u00a0 The journal from 1985 showed that even more.\r\n\r\nJust noticed another synchronicity. The journal begins with an adaptation of the first line of Kafka\u2019s Metamorphosis: \u201cWhen Jonathan Zap awoke today from uneasy dreams he was surprised to find that he was a twenty-seven\u00a0 year old white male living in lower Manhattan writing a dairy today, June 17, 1985."\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nJust above the opening line \u00a0I typed in a a one-day-earlier date: \u201cNYC 6\/16\/85\u201d\r\n\r\nTen years to the day, on June 17 of 1995 came one of the 3 or 4 most life-changing dividing lines in my life. That was the day that I left teaching and NYC to go on the road in my RV. I take notice of that anniversary every year since. Now that I think about that, within ten days of 6\/17\/95 both my niece Rhonda and my friend Andrew, the world traveler, were born.\r\n\r\nAnd now I just discovered another amazing synchronicity that blows away that ten-year-to-the-day correspondence. As I mentioned, the first document I left on the altar yesterday was an antique letter that I got at a thrift store or that my dad acquired somehow. What I assume is a young male (a son, apparently unmarried) writing to his mother. The letter is dated, June 16, 1885 precisely to the day, one hundred years from the date on the top of my journal!!!!!!!! Then as you\u2019ll see from the image (first and last page of this 4-page fold out note---there are two references to June 17.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nI also learned from the 1985 journal that it was written during the time I was getting my MA in creative writing from NYU. This relates to the dream of a couple of months ago and from last night. NYU was the last time I was in school and the schooling was related to writing.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAll the way through, the 1985 journal has the consistent voice of a confrontational, in-your-face, funny, insightful and extremely angry young man living in the East Village, dean of an inner city high school in a post-apocalyptic part of the South Bronx and currently undergoing traumatic betrayals from the three friends in NY I was closest to, two of whom may have been psychopaths, both of whom were capable of evil acts and the third capable of spectacularly self-destructive ones. One had already done his worst to me, and the other, was going to do his evil deeds to me in August. In the journal, written in June, I get an I Ching reading that warns of \u201ctrouble in the 8th month\u201d and I anticipate shock when I return from travels which will include a 23-day Outward Bound trip in the Cascade mountains of Washington. (Oddly enough, already posted online is the first video recording ever made of me, and it was recorded in 85\u2019a few months before the journal. I was being videoed by Tom, the one who did evil in the 8th month see https:\/\/zaporacle.com\/ufo-eye-knight-video\/ It gives a glimpse of the angry young man who wrote the journal)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThis journal proved to be have a very yang-yin unexpected structure. For most of it I am this very angry, confrontational young man using surreal humor to channel my rage at nearly everything around me (same as in video). At one point I talk about buying post-apocalyptic survival gear for my coming trip including \u201cthe camouflage pen I\u2019m writing with.\u201d (I apparently typed up handwritten notes later.) This military-style pen has an amazing synchronistic relationship to last night\u2019s dream which also involves a military-style pen. The camouflage pen also relates syncrhonistically, in a way unrecognized at the time, to the future half of the journal that was written later in June. \u00a0The second half is a complete departure from voice and content and is dated 6\/25\/85 (see image above)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThe above page is a bit like a Talmudic text with arguments from different rabbis separated by centuries. In this case my 2010 self judged it as weak, but it doesn't look weak to my 2017 self.\r\n\r\nI don\u2019t know why I didn\u2019t notice at the time, or in a read-through of this journal that I did in 2010, but that was the one year anniversary of the most epic synchronicity of my life, the Twilight Zone synchronicity, which happened on a date foretold in a dream journal months before---6\/25\/84. It was on that day, on line to see the premier of the movie The Twilight Zone, that I met two of the three friends I write about in this journal. The journal concludes with a several page, highly self-aware vision, told in mythological terms, that reveals what is happening with the inner feminine part of my being, while facing the world I have a hyper-masculine personality. At one point I call that masculine side a \u201cverbal swordsman\u201d which resonates with the military pen motif in both dream and at the start of the 85\u2019 journal.\r\n\r\nBefore I get into last night\u2019s dreams, here is the journal about the last dream I sent you which began the theme about plays, writing and missing a class taught by Dr. Joyce Henry:\r\n\r\nHad a dream last night that I think has a specific message about something I might need to do to improve the quality of writing in Parallel Journeys and which you might be able to assist me in.\r\n\r\nThe vast majority of my dreams I do not try to interpret and don\u2019t think they have specific messages. There is a qualitative difference in those that do and a couple of other signs. A dream that\u2019s trying to change the conscious mind will usually wake you up and with an unsettled affect and unfinished desire or intention.\r\n\r\nSince leaving teaching in 1995, I have had endless dreams where I am back in a teaching situation and just realizing that I\u2019m late to a class I\u2019ve forgotten to prepare for, etc.---- the familiar \u201cfailure of performance\u201d type dream many people get. This dream was the only one I can remember in which I was a student, not a teacher, perhaps in grad school or in my junior or senior year in college (though no sense that I was other than my present age). I suddenly realize that I\u2019ve been neglecting to go to, or do any of the class work for, a class taught by Dr. Joyce Henry. In real life, when I was an undergraduate, Dr. Henry was the teacher I spent the most time with---I took her classes on public speaking and, two semesters of Shakespeare, but by far her dominant influence was as head of the theater group, acting teacher, etc. I was an actor, set designer and stage manager for numerous productions during my four years of under grad and the theater group was also the center of my social life, etc. In the dream I\u2019m realizing the oddness that I\u2019ve neglected her class, of all classes, because I realize that I\u2019m an English major and that this is my only English class. The class is near the end of the school day. I\u2019m realizing I\u2019ve neglected to do any work for this class and decide catch up on the work. The class was reading a modern, American play and I\u2019m intending to go read the whole play when I wake up.\r\n\r\nThe greatest weakness in Parallel Journeys is with dialogues turning into long monologues where the character\u2019s voice become identical with mine. It also seems like the dream might be working on your theater background. A literal, but perhaps appropriate way to work with the dream might be for me to read a couple of plays you recommend that have exceptionally good contemporary dialogue. Any suggestions?\r\n***\r\nCan\u2019t remember the first part of last night\u2019s dream cycle in detail, but it involved going on an adventure---part of it involved riding in a bus, but there were many other phases. The organizing principle of the journey was that the adventure I was going on was exactly retracing the steps of some highly anomalous misadventure that Jack had gone on. Apparently Jack wanted to see if I would get a similar result if I followed his steps and\/or see how it felt to him. Jack is a very vivid presence, closely observing everything I\u2019m doing, giving instructions. It\u2019s not clear if he is a physical participant in the adventure, or just a close observer, though there are moments when he seems to come forward and appears as a physical being. Then there are two final scenes I remember in greater detail.\r\n\r\nThe first of these is with Jack. Jack is standing up on what, now that I am remembering more closely, looks like the flat-black-painted, multi-level stage we used in the theater group when I was at Ursinus College (where I studied acting and theater with Dr. Joyce Henry). \u00a0Jack is perhaps threatening to, or demonstrating how he would stab himself with a black pen.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n(It is a \u201cballistic\u201d pen, specifically one made by Gerber. In the waking life, a week or so ago I got another one, having lost one during my world travels. It has a tungsten carbide point as well as a pen point that is an auto glass breaker and could be used as a weapon.)\r\n\r\nI\u2019m not sure how the scene starts, perhaps Jack had stabbed himself with the pen, I\u2019m not sure, but self-wounding seems to be a mutual theme. \u00a0There seems to be the thought at least of one of us stabbing himself in the jugular with the pen.\r\n\r\nJack is on the stage, a step above me, apparently demonstrating how to stab yourself with the pen. It seems like \u00a0Jack is calling on me to show my emotional intensity toward him by stabbing myself with the pain (sic\/slip) meant to type \u201cpen.\u201d I don\u2019t actually do that, but while I am in the dream I am imagining three tries of stabbing myself with the pen. The first two are weak efforts, where self-protective instinct keeps me from going hard enough to break the skin. I sense that Jack won\u2019t be impressed if I don\u2019t produce blood. In the third imaginary try I am putting my left hand, palm down, fingers splayed out on a desktop and then am going to strike with the pen in my right hand with enough force to almost impale my left hand and draw an impressive amount of blood. There\u2019s no graphic completion of this try in my imagination within the dream.\r\n\r\nNext I am in a state of high anxiety because I realize that I still haven\u2019t attended a single one of Dr. Joyce Henry\u2019s classes. It\u2019s a direct continuation, and aware of this past, from the earlier dream (pasted in above). Dr. Henry, like Jack, is deceased.\r\n\r\nJust got led down another rabbit hole\/ synchronicity chain. I felt a desire to find out when Dr. Henry died. (Just a few months after Jack as it turns out.) I learned the approximate time from an unexpected google return: \u201cThe Brancatelli Blog.\u201d This seems to be another strange synchronicity. Sure, we were both her students, but she had many other people who could have written a blog about her passing considering she was once a young star on Broadway and had a teaching career of about fifty years. Robert Brancatelli was my closest friend during my four years of college, the closest intellectual contemporary friend I ever had (we were both in the same year, but I started college at 16 so he should be two years older than me)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nphoto of Brancatelli I just found online\r\n\r\nThe search return for Dr. Henry\u2019s death led me to a blog Brancatelli posted a couple of years ago about how a number of the professors we were both close to died that year. Brancatelli is a writer, several books on Amazon, has a PhD and currently teaches at Fordham University in the Bronx. Oddly enough, you may have heard recently of a Fordham U. graduate named Donald Trump. Some of Brancatelli\u2019s very incisive blogs seem to defend Trump and dis brand Obama\/Clinton.\r\n\r\nAnyway, this search return has multiple odd connections to the dreams. We\u2019re both writers and our extremely close relationship ended decisively at one particular moment due to ill-considered words \u00a0said by Dr. Joyce Henry. The estrangement that came out of a few lines of \u201cdialogue\u201d has lasted 39 years and counting! I just sent Rob a couple of messages and we\u2019ll see if he responds. I\u2019ve emailed him a few times in the last ten years, offering to send him a copy of my book, etc. and he didn\u2019t respond. If he does respond to the \u00a0latest, then, via a google search return, Dr. Henry, the woman who accidentally created the estrangement, will have synchronistically brought us back together.\r\n\r\nHere\u2019s what happened. It was late Spring of 1978. Rob and I were standing in front of the theater building when Dr. Henry rolled by in her car. She had just come from a faculty meeting and wanted to give us advance notice and congratulations because we had both gotten something very rare, if not unprecedented in the college, honors in two departments---philosophy and English. Then she looked at me and said, \u201cAnd actually you got the much bigger plug from Dr. Williamson (chairman of the philosophy department). First he announced that he was giving honors to Rob, and said that his paper, entitled Meta-linguistics \u00a0was very interesting. And then he said, \u2018But this Jonathan Zap. He wrote a paper about Jung, the archetypes and science fiction (this paper, Archetypes of a New Evolution was about my discovery of the Singularity Archetype https:\/\/zaporacle.com\/archetypes-of-a-new-evolution\/)\u00a0 and it was just fascinating. This young man is a genius and the world is going to hear from him!\u201d I paid quite a price for this amazing compliment. Brancatelli, looking quite upset, walked away from me as soon as Dr. Henry left and we never hung out again from that day till now. I think Dr. Henry was trying to give me a boost because she may have felt guilty after hearing that I was a bit resentful that while Rob, who was a very charismatic and handsome young guy, had gotten many lead roles in the many plays we put on, while I only got character actor parts and was stage manager and sometimes set designer. Probably assuming that I had reason to be jealous of Rob, she may have been trying to even the score or something like that, but the effects were disastrous and I was traumatized by the sudden, and never really explained, rejection. She hit a particularly sore point for Rob because I remember that when I read Metalinguistics I couldn\u2019t make sense of it, and sensed that it was an overly ambitious mess, and that he felt he had to go for philosophy honors because I was, and had to write a grand paper because I was. And maybe he even got the honors because Dr. Williamson would have been afraid to create a rift between us.\r\n\r\nAnyway, this wormhole seems to have irrealized time, with events from 1885 to this morning all seeming to be happening at once (at least in my head).\r\n\r\nThe last part of last night's dreams was another Dr. Henry dream.\u00a0In both \u00a0Dr. Henry dreams it is the last class of the day. In last night\u2019s dream I see in my mind\u2019s eye, some complicated schedule I have on paper, and it\u2019s the last class I have of the day on a day where there are like 5 or six other classes. I remember thinking that this looked like more course credits than you\u2019re supposed to take. I haven\u2019t been to a single class. I remember from the other dream the thing about reading a play for the class, but in this dream I'm not sure if I did. I have a lot of anxiety about facing Dr. Henry and whether I would be imposing on my relationship with her to even ask if I could do work to make up missing half of all the classes. Meeting up with her is associated with the date March 21st \u00a0in the dream. In the dream that is not the current date, but perhaps the date of the next class, next week. I know there\u2019s something weird about that date in the dream because it\u2019s at least several days in the future, but it has some formal connection that seems to make it the official date to ask---perhaps because it is exactly halfway through the term. I also notice in the dream that it is the date of the Spring Equinox. In the waking life, this date is also precisely a fortnight after my friend Andrew is scheduled to come back (March 7) from South America and stay with me in Boulder.\r\n\r\nThe Spring Equinox suggests new life, and the theme of the whole constellation of dreams and synchronicities is that there is a synergy between what my development as a person and as writer of Parallel Journeys both require---writing with more blood, more from the feminine, more emotional intensity. The letter I thought was from Jack begins with an accusation that the \u00a0recipient of the letter is lacking passionate intensity necessary for intimacy. \u00a0In the second dream I still haven\u2019t attended Dr. Henry\u2019s class, I\u2019m still not there yet, I wake up feeling behind in required English major work. In the third imagined try I am going to impale my left hand (my feminine side) with the \u201cballistic\u201d pen ---a highly masculine and phallic object. I know Jack won\u2019t be impressed unless I draw blood. The first document on the altar, the \u00a01885 letter is written in red ink which strikes me as unusual, especially for the 19th\u00a0 Century.\r\n\r\nThere is a lot of blood in the letter as the author describes three fatal accidents in Charleston the other afternoon and a murder that morning. \u00a0He also says that when he visited the hospital \u201che saw a man\u2019s leg took off and other things.\u201d There were a number of words and phrases in the letter I couldn\u2019t decipher but there\u2019s at least one hint, besides the flowing red script, that he may be an androgynous mutant young male.\u00a0 On the first page he writes, \u201cTommorrow is the 17th of June and I expect to see quite a procession of horribles in the morning and the Grand Army and all the cadet schools boys marching.\u201d \u00a0"Procession of horribles" \u00a0is interesting. Rare to hear "horrible" as a plural noun. The only other case may have elected Trump---Hillary\u2019s notorious \u201cbasket of horribles\u201d comment about Trump supporters. He capitalizes \u201cGrand Army\u201d which sounds sarcastic. The implication is that he finds macho, pretentious military types on parade to be a procession of horribles.\r\n\r\nThe blood writing theme---the scarlet letter from the 19th century letter, the camouflage pen and verbal swordsman from the journal I wrote 100 years to the day after the letter was written, and the need to draw blood with a military pen from last night all point toward the need for emotionally intense writing, the opposite of \u201cbloodless prose.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe core message resonates with a message I \u00a0got from \u201cJack\u201d a few months after his death. I was at a festival at the time, one that I found a bit boring, and where I was annoyed by the slacker lifestyle of some friends who had invited me there. It was another journal entry, one where I invited Jack to speak through me, using not just my fingers on the keyboard, but my word-making abilities or anything else of use he found with me. It was probably from the summer of 2013:\r\n\r\n\u00a0Jack---- There's a medicine path open to you. A path where you choose to live closer to essences and can make things closer to essences. And yeah, I think you had the right idea last night about the journal. You should blur the line between the waking life and the imaginal here.\r\n\r\nBlur it, let it blur.\r\n\r\nAre you ready to listen to me now? Now we are really going to get into it if you are ready. This is a way to understand your role and an identity concept that can help you clarify many things. Yeah, all identities are provisional and to be taken with a grain of salt, but this one has so much truth for you if you are ready for it.\r\n\r\nJonathan: The time now is 11:23 AM, I'm ready to hear it.\r\n\r\nJack: You need to live as an edge walker. That's what I am, that's what the characters in Parallel Journeys are and that's what you are and you need to live as such---an edge walker. That's how Grant Morrison and Alan Moore lived when they were doing their best work. You need to walk the edge between the waking and the imaginal, the edge between past, present and future, the edge between life and death, between male and female, between matter and spirit, between human and elf, between the linear identity and the shape shifter. . .\r\n\r\nYou\u2026 can't live the way most people do, the comfort-seeking folks who want to take off the edge and put their feet up like the people at Marc and Stephanie's camp who want to relax and have a nonthreatening, non-challenging, down time\/party time mode. When you feel any sort of disdain for what they are doing it is a sign that you are irritated at comfort folk because you are not edge walking to the degree of impeccability you need.\r\n\r\nYou can't eat the comfort way and be an edge walker. You've realized this many times. According to legend, when lost travelers wander into fairyland they are supposed to be careful not to eat any of the fairy food or drink anything there, because if they do they may never return. You have a lifespan to deal with still in the anti-fairy land you call the Babylon Matrix. To be an edge walker in the anti-fairy land in which you live you cannot eat the foods or drink the drinks of the anti-fairy land or you lose your edge and your ability to be an edge walker, which is central to your life mission. Edge walkers live on essences, on medicine foods. If they need to blend with other folk they may partake of their better quality foods in small portions. They may engage with folk intensely at times, but cannot join them in their comfort zones.\r\n\r\nTo fulfill your life mission, we need you to be an edge walker. It is as an edge walker that you will make things and send back artifacts from visions you've had at the edges. You've already been shown, and you know, that your life is privileged in a number of ways and one is that there are high value uses for every moment of your time. You need to spend most of your time in edge time\u2026. There are more practical and creative tasks for you to do than there is time to do them so you need to bring edge awareness to see what most needs to be done at a given moment. You were made for this, and you realize that your time is not altogether your own because others need you to fulfill your life mission and to do that you need to bring an edge of existential impeccability with you as you engage point-to-point navigation through your days and nights. The edge relates to posture, to focus, movement, food, exercise, time, choices, relationships, everything. It is not a path for everyone, so don't look aside at others who are living in comfort zones. What they do isn't right for you, and what you do isn't right for them, so live and let live.\r\n\r\nYou can't and don't need to outsource the edge. In the past you tried to outsource the edge path to externalized magic. .. outsourcing the edge damages the edge. The edge is within you and it is the path that is always before you as an edge walker.\r\n\r\nYou recognize the principle. Last night, for example, you said to Johnny, "I should stop eating because it will undermine intuition." This is edge awareness, but now you need to keep that edge with you and more activated so that you will know to stop eating long before you need to make such an observation. Yeah, the comfort zones, the zones that are duller and softer than other folk generate are not right for you, and yeah you will react immunologically, but do it in quieter, more cloaked ways. The degree to which you get agro about them most likely indicates that you are outsourcing your irritation at compromising your own edge. Use the energy of irritation to work on your own edge. If you feel annoyed with comfort zones do some push-ups. Get back on track with what you need to do.\r\n\r\nAlso, being an edge walker is not about always being busy. It could mean sitting at the edge of desert canyon at night with no equipment and no to do list. Existential impeccability is not about what you do, but a stance toward doing and not doing.\r\n***\r\nFinally, \u00a0I\u2019m skimming through the young wife\u2019s letter and found this edge walker statement addressed to her husband:\r\n\r\nBottom line is:\r\n\r\nI deserve more from a partner\r\n\r\nAnd\r\n\r\nYou deserve less from a partner\r\n\r\nBasically because I want more out of Life and\r\n\r\nAnd you want less out of Life\r\n\r\nI see Life as inherently challenging and full of hard work.\r\n\r\nYou see Life as inherently comfy and void of hardwork\/challenge\r\n\r\nI must do some very specific things for myself if I truly desire to accomplish reaching my highest self\r\n\r\nBefore\r\n\r\nthis body dies.\r\n\r\nThis is the moment when her journal shifts from addressing her husband and becomes an internal address.\r\n\r\nNext is a list of the specific things she must do \u201cbefore this body dies.\u201d It is a list of 8 things and the last one is \u201cWrite!\u201d\r\n\r\nI always thought this letter was written by a young wife, because she sounds very young and intense, but just noticed this passage:\r\n\r\n\u201cHaving a childhood without: structure or guidance or comfort or safety . . . I subsequently was often thrust in and out of many inexplicable adventures for 50 years! One of my 'gifts' is how effortless it is for me to fit anything I suddenly find myself engulfed by and I feel grateful for that capacity for survival.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe is apparently an edge walking mutant in her fifties feeling her mortality and being called to Write! before her present body dies.\r\n\r\nA couple of days ago I got back a framed print of a photo I took of Andrew Anderson in Venice. It's called "Sojourn." Now I see the connection to the dream Andrew (of Parallel Journeys) \u00a0has where he sees a young male in a Renaissance era town. \u00a0And of course the dream ends with the young male saying "This is a map of where to find me."\r\n\r\n\r\nSo all of this is just a specimen of my inner process and how dreams, synchronicities, interpretations, assigned meanings and inner characters and\/or spirits influence the process. It is a call to adventure to live and write as an edge walker. Related to writing I need to learn to write dialogue that is more dramatic and that has more emotional intensity, more infused with the blood of life. An implication of the zone of synchronicities is that time works differently, and that events with bonds of affinity from different points in linear time can all roil and boil in the alchemical cauldron and give rise to new forms and visions.