Morning rite went well. I had a dream of sorts, half awake and half asleep, and I heard someone say something to the effect that the way to the dead was not actually through the underworld, but via Olympos. I could’ve sworn it was my friend. I think if I am to interpret this correctly that where she is at, she keeps bright company. It is, for a lack of a better term, heaven.

While I feel that I have a ways to go in getting my shit resolved, I actually have the hope of getting there. I feel like it’s within reach, and I’m no longer just flailing around and chasing my own tail.

It’s interesting; the first and only “real” time I interacted with and spoke with my HGA was a few months after my grandfather’s death. I dreamed about talking with my grandfather too, actually, but that’s a whole other story. I remember spending much of the time talking with my HGA apologizing for not having realized he was there all along, in other dreams and conversations and it was so obvious I felt like a dumbass. I thought I had achieved K&C then, but really I just had the “C”. Perhaps it was preparation for what was to come.

Evening rite however was …challenging. And draining. I went straight to bed after and passed out for a good eight hours.

Cleanse and purge.