This is how I do my journaling. It's a unique process I created that I call Magical Alpha Dialogue. It reads as fiction. Enjoy. Or not.
I sit on the sofa, my knees tucked against my chest, my arms wrapped around them.
I’m thinking of an encounter I had the previous day with a trickster colleague.
“Yes, my love.”
He sits in an adjacent chair. He is reading updates from various realms. He lowers his device and looks at me.
He repeats himself as I’ve lost myself in my thoughts.
“Why do people fear power?”
“I had a written exchange yesterday with one of my twitter followers who labels himself a trickster and also follows an ancient horned god as well.”
“We seemed to be going fine, I suppose, until I spoke about my desire, my hunger, for power. He didn’t grasp what I meant and told me rather quickly that I have got my focus all wrong.
“I see this happening a lot, my lord. Either I don’t communicate myself well, or it’s an alien concept to many spiritual people.
“Anyway, he felt I was either misguided or lacking, I fear.”
A tear slips from my eye. It tickles as it flows down my cheek so I wipe it away. It doesn’t escape his notice.
“What upsets you, pet? That you felt judged?”
“Not exactly, my lord. I don’t always, or often, shed a tear when people disagree with me. I feel more … disappointed.
“I had hoped we would be more on the same page. It got even worse when the conversation moved to the topic of ascension, my lord.”
He perks up, and puts his device down. He leans towards me, steepling his fingers, his elbows resting on his knees.
“I sense so much enchantment around this idea, how it is currently floating around the world at this time, my lord.”
My head feels jolted backward as an insight strikes me.
“Oh my god! Ascension is a harvesting, isn’t it, my lord?!”
His nostrils flare and his eyes widen.
“Oh my godling wife, your perception is formidable. This pleases me greatly.”
I smile shyly.
“Thank you, my lord.”
I reorganise myself to a more assertive arrangement, straightening my legs along the length of the sofa, and rearranging pillows behind me so I sit taller.
“Am I the only one to see this?”
“Within your milieu, do you mean?”
“I guess so.”
“Hmmm. Then I truly come with heresies, my lord.”
“Heresies are not only against the common beliefs, my love, but also against its main rivals.”
“It feels more dangerous to be against the rival off-shoots than against the mainstream, especially if they perceive you to be one of them. They see you then as a traitor to their cause.
“The mainstream seems almost inured against attack. But the love-and-light followers are hyper-defensive and prickly when challenged.”
I pause to feel into my thoughts.
“I need to dive into this idea more deeply, my lord. Perhaps to write it out in the form of an essay that I can put on to my site. Not just in the form of a justifying post, but an exploration of both for and against arguments, with a conclusion.”
“Don’t use this as a distraction from your other work, my love. Apply yourself to this project as you would to an academic assignment.”
"Yes, my lord."
“I think I’d like to assert my full set of qualifications somewhere on my site. Perhaps in the footer, I think, so it’s subtly obvious that I’m no innocent babe in the woods.”
He smiles conspiratorially.
“If you wish. It would do no harm.”
“I’ll do this promptly, my lord. So, the challenge I have is to resolve two clashing sets of counter-paradigms to the mainstream. That of spirituality, particularly the love-and-light stuff, and that of gods, aliens, and angels.
“And I would be a flag-bearer for the second. It is the more immediate impingement on our realm.”
I pause to ponder some more.
“You know, my lord, it confuses me greatly how my trickster friend is comfortable with other realms and gods, yet leads with spirituality and ascension discussion.”
He moves to sit with me on the sofa. I move my legs closer to the backrest to make room for him. He takes my hand and looks at me with a gentle sternness.
“My love. You need to develop more finesse when you enter into such encounters.”
“How do you mean, my lord?”
“You are too quick to drop your power-bomb onto them.”
I laugh silently.
“Yes. I do. That is when conversations tend to go awry. Especially with the LALA folk.”
“Love and Light Ascension.”
He looks at me askance.
“Do you like it?”
“It amuses me. But it won’t win over any new friends, my love.”
“Do you think I could win them over, my lord? They seem quite entrenched.”
“When you use this term in your writings, my love, do try to be as neutral as you can manage.”
“Hmmm. Retract my claws, you mean?”
He smiles mischievously.
“Choose your battles, godling. Don’t exhaust your ammunition too early. Be strategic.”
"Yes, my lord."
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