Sense and trituration proving, Zell, 22-9-2021, All
Source: At the foot of a pine tree on the Southern Wachberg Zell.
Prover 1 AriTastes and smells good.
Benign growths on skin and mucous membranes, condylomas. Sexually transmitted.
Will I see you again, or are we parted? Have I lost you forever, stop and take me with you, don't leave me alone in this harsh world. In for a penny, in for a pound, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Can suffering be halved? Forever stigmatised. See how you get on. Stagnation.
Easy for the worm there, the holes are already there. (Or are they holes in the brain?) Stop, stop, stop.
Now, at last, calm returns, after a long, sycotic haste, that was yesterday. Today is the end of all the confusion, although we thought we could not escape the confusion.
They are constructs of thought convolutions that seem to have no beginning and no end. Trapped in the madness of thought constructs.
I feel a pulling in my abdomen.
C1 TriturationStrong smell, heavy, of truffles, like old socks.
Totally dizzy, as if I would take off, like a helicopter, like high In the eye sockets it burns, feel flat and numb.
Hali halo what makes me happy?
I'm so tired, nothing cheers me up.
I'd rather not say anything, I don't want to offend anyone. What I say is wrong and can also be misunderstood, I don't want that. So I prefer to say nothing, because I lack the words. I have always lacked them, I don't know where they are? In any case, they are stuck somewhere, they are stuck!...and that gives me the feeling of being handicapped. A doctor without words that's not possible. Jokes are also without words and you don't understand them either!
Friedrich is swinging outside the window. He tries to get higher and higher. Higher and higher without words! Friedrich comes back again, he is ready with rocking.
Everything scratches and squeaks, there are so many noises in the room, it prevents me from forming thoughts.
No thoughts, no words. I can't be me because I can't think straight.
I just sit there and listen to the noises and then the s2ll. There is a lack of any association to the external stimuli that I take in unfiltered, there is no direct reflection on them, no clear thoughts, no words. The brain is like a sieve. I just stare in front of me.
Brainwashed-no resonance-empty.
I think of a glass of wine.
I begin to sway back and forth on the chair.
I feel bloating in my stomach
I feel dizzy, feel woozy.
I yawn hard, my throat hurts inside, more and more.
Dear hen, where is the way out, where is the light?
"Let me carry you, little chick, climb on my back, trust me. I will carry you through all the turbulence to the new land where milk and honey flow. You don't have to do anything, nothing is enough-because you are carried!
Be humble! This is not the time for words. No one understands what the other says, the words do not even reach the address. No seduction is of any use, no associating. It's all just noise, which is more or less, even silence is the same. I cannot be understood because I do not understand. I am quite simple-minded, with me one must be friendly, then I am well, then it goes to the light!”
Prover 2 PertraLarge spongy edible mushroom
I inhale the delicious fragrance deeply.
I feel my head, it is forming.
The head hangs from a point and is shaped like a medium brown wooden ball. It turns counterclockwise and changes to a cone shape (point up), then ball, back and forth again.
It will take a long time for something to emerge.
I hold the mushroom in my hand. Nothing happens, nothing for a long time. That feels good. A pause.
I feel green light in the form of a cylinder around my body. The green cylinder of light slowly descends my body.
My arms and legs, my limbs are in tin cylinders. Like the Tin Woodman from the Wizard of Oz.
Is this what an MRI feels like? A magnetic resonance imaging? In a tube. Would you be protected like that? Would it help?
I feel safe and secure.
There is nothing to do.
I get very scared because a little worm crawled out of the mushroom onto my notebook.
That's life.
Suddenly another creature.
Trituration C11) Head becomes lighter, tired, don't care, yawning.
2) Head pressure, head and body as if fixed.
3) Fate can be very simple. Matter/substance feels dense.
4) Head pressure, pressure becomes stronger. We are told to lie.
5) Stunning. I haven't had head pressure in a long time, or just once during
thunderstorms. Why and what for now? How does it go away? Too much
info!
6) So tired, why the headache? Now deliverance is near.
I am at the bottom of the water. I dive through the holes of the sponge. On my head a pressure like from a suction bell.
Vacuum extraction (VE), vacuum delivery with ventouse suction cup
Prover 9 DiezQuickly a strong tingling sensation as if from an electric current left hand dig 1 and dig 2 at the fingertips a strange pulsating tingling sensation. After a while, this tingling also begins in the right hand also only on the two fingertips of the thumb and index finger. A little later, this tingling extends a little up the carpus on the left.
I immediately think of hand prostheses... Feeling of wearing two prosthetic hands myself... missing hands chopped off hands.
I put a piece of the mushroom in the middle of my palm, immediately a slight burning starts there, like from a wound... Stigmata... pierced by nails.
Again the chopped-off hands, again and again the thought of them and the sensation of having no hands.
The image of the Abu Ghraib torture victims a black hood over their heads and their hands... tortured by electric shocks, nails driven through the palms... and again: chopped off hands, missing hands.
I eat a small piece of the mushroom... you have to be able to digest that first these images are too horrible to "digest"... that is only possible through a violent process of splitting up
The mushroom has a pleasant smell how does that fit in with the horrible images that almost compulsively force themselves on me.
The consistency of the mushroom is rubbery when torn it offers no resistance to being torn.
When I look at my hands, they suddenly seem very small, almost like children's hands, but with folds like those of an old woman.
And again I see hanged people hanging from a tree the limp bodies....
C1 Susanne DiezImmediately the sentence: "Abu Ghraib is the final state of the completely rationalised human being".
The hood over the head, the chopped off hands.... where are the feet? The feet are also missing.
De-individualised in the most devastating way. Made into a thing. Man as a disposable product.
I get very sad, the talking in the room disturbs me a lot tears well up but something in my head controls the tears so they can't come out.
I have put too much of the mushroom in the bowl, now it is a moist unpleasant mass the greed of the head man.
This torture can only be "endured" by complete anaesthesia. Those who torture must also be completely numb.
The total loneliness of the tortured.
Now someone (also with a bag like a hood over his head presumably so that no one can recognise him) puts the tortured person over his shoulder and carries him away. Is the tortured man still alive at all his body is completely limp.
It smells of blood, sweat and excrement in the torture site sultry hot, damp, disgust.
The soldiers outside are drinking, joking and playing around with technical equipment. A young soldier sits a little apart in the corner it is his first mission. He is afraid, but doesn't want to show it, otherwise the others might be very brutal with him, taunt him, do something to him. But the leader sees it and says: Tomorrow you will do your first torture, after that you won't mind, You just have to do the violence, then you won't feel any regret. You'll beat him until his bones are broken you'll have to make quite an effort, but otherwise you won't feel anything. In the end, you'll laugh because you'll be glad that you don't have to exert yourself any more it'll be like after a vigorous fitness exercise. You'll look forward to the beer.
He now brings him a strong anaesthetic potion, spiked with some kind of drugs that switch off feeling.
F. says: I'll now rub the hen until she's dizzy... the words come as if from another world. If only the tortured had a "mother hen" to take care of them... but they are totally lonely and abandoned.
Now the rubbing seems to me like a mechanical act of violence I have done maximum violence to the mushroom.
I am suddenly standing in Ur / Iraq... in the distance I hear the bombs exploding.... The beginning and end of civilisation. But at that moment I realise that this beginning of civilisation is not the source of humanity but the beginning of a civilisation that leads to destruction. The source of humanity lies deeper and somewhere else.
The powder in the bowl is now dry and quite homogeneous the mushroom has completely surrendered it has perished perished.
Ur what am I supposed to do there? It was one of those utterly singled-out moments a "place" where beginning and end come together and where there is no hope
I do nothing.
Suddenly the strange sensation of a shaking from below and from the depths, as if from an earthquake, shaking my lower body. Emptiness in the head, head pressure. Short pain in the jaw joint on the left.
Resignation. I sit and look.
A crowd of people flows past me, factory workers walking home from a machine shop after closing time. Tired empty faces.
Suddenly an unknown sharp pain in the nail bed of my right thumb.
The mushroom says: "Do you want to see more pictures of completely disembodied conditions? You will see many more such conditions in the future.
I ask: What can I do?
Mushroom: Connect with the earth, and with the darkness. Go through the graves, go through…!
Prover 11Smell reminded of sexual organ and sex; very erotic.
Wild pack of dogs running around in a square
Ski circus in Kitzbühel
Like helmet on the head, pressure on the ears, inside like shielded.
There is a lot of blood, blood still stand, sponge
Mountain deep in the sea to swim around
It's good that there are words to describe something.
Would like to make a ball out of with, gather myself and be alone.
Look at Jan. That's what an old man looks like. I am even older.
Want to be in a group, sing joyfully and do whatever comes to my mind.
Impulse to drop my pen and pad. But no one minds.
Prover 15 FranzBone injury face and skull. Bone injury due to torture. Skull and brain trauma due to suction cup birth. Brain as if perforated.
Smells pleasantly of nut and crumbles easily. Resembles a bath sponge and bone spongiosa. Fragments look exactly like pieces of bone that came from the wound of a pulled tooth.
I bring light into the last corners of your upper brain. (Brain). Tingling skin of head. Feeling of someone switching on the light in the brain. Inside the head a wonderful, invigorating feeling.
I grow at the base of old pine trees. I heal old jaw wounds. Everywhere where there are fine canals. Bone injuries after trepanations, brain operations, open skull injuries., bone atrophy. Split fractures of the facial bone after traffic accidents, comminuted fractures from hand grenade spliCes. The bones are scattered and one wonders how they will ever grow back together and heal.
In the Old Mill, death grinds the bones.
I had after he
Sense proving the feeling the exam is already over.
ChristineA giant stream of light in the brain. To reorienting in the brain. A giant fan radiates from a shriveled brain. The brain in its present form is a rudiment. Give new transmitter.
In the sunflesh: sitting under a hen. A being at home.
Get to know twists and turns in the labyrinth, dead ends have meaning.
A giant broom sweeps even the last dust and crumbs from an empty attic.
Innovation of the heart. The heart gets new ears and hears the pulse of the universe. Begins anew.
Lots of packaging and blah, blah. You humans can be fooled with curls. The outer tangled is only distraction. Structure inside Connects ISG and pineal gland. Deep rootedness with home where I come from. Disentanglement.
The great deceleration.
Time calculation is nothing. Rigid clocking does not fit.
Absolutely to the point. Unwound, like coil.
One walks on steel cable for miles over abyss.
No matter how fast the merry-go-round of life turns I stay in the MiZe.
An old man looks back on the turmoil of war. At peace with himself.
Unwavering determination. Remembering your goal even on detours.
Follow your own heartbeat.
Fair, carouselToo much noise and impressions. Evening silence, peace of mind.
MS. The nerves are cleaned through, transparent again.
Dying is the glide into life.
Brain is switched off.
GünterA woolly, warm stone lies in the hand. Warming. Clear, crowing heartbeat.
Inner restlessness, inner fast spinning.
As if shielded, bell above me, curled up, all to myself.
Sitting there and waiting. It is good to have arrived.
Smell goes into all crevices, all brain windings
Feeling the head glows, Kulli falls down in slow motion, know it's happening and can't do anything listless, without impulse.
Seeing holes in the air.
fixed in plaster bandage in stretch bandage.
Fine smell turns into gas chamber. There is only one through, best Xef inhale, then it's over quickly. One way, no turning back.
Unbreakable bond with life.
Simple and without demands. Drink, eat, poop.
Reconstruction in the big silence
PetraDrops mushroom at the end, startled, because worm crawls out.
Feel the head, it forms and hangs at one point. A wooden ball rotates clockwise. Cone shape alternates with ball. Takes a long time.
A green cylinder of light rises in the body.
Arms/legs and boil stuck in tin cylinders shooter in MRI. Safe and secure.
Residential group in old people's home
Kopeuch, bonnet. Fate can be very simple. Head pressure, too much info
We are supposed to lie, anaesthetise.
Dive through water with suction cup on head.
Prover 17I wonder if I'll think of something today, if not, I'll listen to the others.
Breakthroughs in an old house, breakthroughs in the heart. Love for colleagues.
Not having to think, not having to accomplish anything, empty in the head, holes in the brain.
From sensation, observation to thinking.
Pulse clop in the head, in the gums.
Rotten specimen from pathology, decaying before itself.
DD: release from obsessive thinking (Psilocybe). climacteric flushes.
Prover 18 JanSmell: sperm, old, spoiled.
Trembling, innerly, wrist, hand, arm.
Rigidity, over control.
Thoughts fast, many, chaotic, as if after too much coffee.
Trembling, jittery, vibration, in chest.
Throat, contracted, pulled backwards.
Scraping, voice cracking.
Wanting too much and then holes develop.
Clarity of mind, spirit, very clear, quiet.
Abdomen restless, pressing.
Phase 5.
De sire sex and drugs, zwelgen, in order not to feel the restlessness.
Restless form the idea that something is not good in me, spiritually.
Unlimited, free from my head, the limitation of my head.
Fresh, fruity, forever young.
Taste: texture as from cauliflower, tasteless, a bit bitter.
Texture as of gummi.
Flexible, still keep my own point of view.
Prover 19 FranzCurly hen,
Sparassis crispa Zell, joint meditation and trituration 22.9.2021.
grows on pine trees, every year in the same place, kills the tree, one of the best edible mushrooms. Entrance meditation: (Franz = red)
Immediately a sentence comes to mind, but not quite: It... in the woodwork. The tense is missing. No matter how much I think about it, I can't think of what it is doing in the woodwork. The meaning of the word is clear to me: it has to do with dementia, incipient dementia, with forgetting.
Then the words begin to string together:
I lack time, time is falling, time is falling, time is falling,
I don't have time,
(and it becomes more absurd) -
Auf der Wacht, auf der Nacht, auf der Acht, Achtelwachtel, Wachtelachtel, GreisamOfenbankl, ankl,
wankl Greis am BanklWahnkl, WahnGreisBankl,
OfenWahnderGreis in Wankel, (and ever more absurd).
Syllables one after the other, in constant change, some simplest melody, the main thing is rhythm.
An old man who talks rubbish? Or a poet? A poet who talks rubbish, a Down's syndrome person with his own language.
Yes, self-linguism, not mother tongue, not foreign language, but own language.
Is it called "it rustles in the woodwork"? (No, it's called something else, and that's where the round comes in).
KrauseMauseWauseSause, old-born, lost in the storm,
the old man sits inwardly lashed in the brain-dust muddle, huffing and puffing and no one there. Who understands, who does not understand. Case of the cases, branch woven.
Markus: Cancellous bone; tooth lost, three pieces of bone coming out in the next few months. I heal old jaw injuries and everything in the head, old bone injuries in the head. Focus on facial skull.
Christine: Neural structures; fan opens, upwards outwards, connect with origin. Being at home, sitting under a warm hen. Errors, confusions, dead ends have their meaning, zero orientation. Giant broom sweeping the attic, above all dust.
As if heart gets new ears, begins to beat anew.
Much blah-blah, you humans are easily seduced.
The confusion is only a distraction, can also connect, root, existence on the planet and connection with origin.
Günter: warm stone, calm, enveloping, warming. Clear, big strong heartbeat; inner restlessness, turning inward. Shielded, as if for me, curled up, sitting there and waiting.
Petra: Head forms like a medium-brown wooden ball, into a sphere/cone, on and on. It will take a long time for something to emerge. Pause.
Skeleton in tin cylinder. Green cylinder of light rises.
Susanne:
Hans: Pack of wild dogs; Schizirkus in Kitzbühl. Helmet over his head. (like Günter). Pressure on head from outside, shielded.
Where dogs were, now blood. Stopping blood? Like a sponge?
A mountain range, stone formation, where you can swim through or not, (belongs to the coral fungi); sea... it's actually good that there are words with which you can describe something, feel comfortable in them.
I want to become a sphere, collect myself and be alone. Look at Jan: This is what an old man looks like. That's what I look like now.
I want to be a group and move joyfully, do whatever comes to my mind. I could drop the pen on the paper now, but that might disturb. It did and it didn't bother.
The smell reminds me of a sexual organ, moist, cool and highly erotic.
Susanne thinks it would be in an old people's home when old people try something, just like that, and see how the others react.
Susanne Diez: Tingling in fingertips, left, 1+2, like light electricity; came re when taking right hand, then went into whole hand.
As if hands were prostheses. Hands seemed smaller to her. Chopped off hands. Punishment. Abu Graib. Torture, electric shocks/ piercing nails.
Eats of it: you have to digest it first.
How does that go with the pleasant smell?
No resistance to tearing, to violence. Splitting processed. Hanged in a tree, lonely landscape, dangling. No resistance.
Christa: Benign tumours on skin and mucous membrane. Don't leave me alone in the harsh world. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. See how you get on. The worm has it easy, the holes are already there.
Rest after sycotic haste. We thought we could not escape the confusion. Caught in the madness of our thought constructs. Pulling in the UB.
Friedrich: if I can't think of anything, I listen to the others. The breakthroughs in the house stand out. In the heart; love for colleagues, grateful. Empty in head; observation/sensing to think. Psilo: deletion of compulsion. In Christa: confusion. As in my poem.
Pulse throbbing in head, in gums.
Icy cold /outside earlier/ now almost too warm psilo in flushes, climacteric.
Ruin that is decaying away. Rotting specimen from pathology.
Jan: old sperm; inner trembling, very fine. Particularly in the wrist, then also in the arm, chest, everywhere. Chaotic, like after too much coffee. Vibration, maybe also like electricity?
Wanting too much, then the holes come, also in thoughts, afterwards clear and calm, with all in connection in the mind.
Constricted in the belly; free from head limitation. Fresh. Like fruit. Forever young. Craving for sex and drugs to get rid of restlessness. Ph
What is the restlessness? There's something wrong with me, especially spiritually, but that may just be an idea, just nonsense.
Psilocybe: obsessive-compulsive disorder/mother issue: anorexia.
Rubbing to C1:
With Friedrich, we take turns rubbing, I start.
Prover Franz1. A yellow ribbon runs past, tips up, bright yellow, it goes bzzz, bzzz, like a guard wire. Electrically charged, anyway. How strong? What for?
Then an ENT doctor with a head mirror, ordering "Make aahh", to each of the young men who one after the other sit down in front of him. An old surgery or hospital outpatient clinic, old equipment that inspires fear rather than confidence. Why is he doing this? What is he doing in that throat? Is he putting something in, injecting something? Is he pulling or peeling something out? I am curious. A voice says: You don't want to know.
2nd Friedrich rubs (impatient, thinks time must be up, repeats). Yawns.
3 It is now clear that the scene is set in a military hospital. The doctor's commanding tone, the young men all recruits, not long-serving soldiers. After the scene in the ambulance, we are now in the dormitory during rounds. The recruits are lying at attention in their beds, the head doctors are having data read out to them, going from one bed to the next. No one talks to the recruits.
An experiment is taking place.
How did they get the recruits to do it? They were promised that they wouldn't have to exercise in the dirt, that they could lie in bed all day. It's as simple as that.
What's the point? Physical parameters play a role. Behaviour seems to be important. All day long the recruits are observed by cameras. Is behaviour that important?
I have no idea what it's about.
4. Friedrich
5. they are watched how they behave towards each other, no, against each other. Now it gets gruesome. They recruits pass each other by, have no contact with each other, but when they do, they hurt each other. Which doesn't seem to hurt them. If you touch me, I scratch you. But you don't feel it. I have no interest in you, I am all for myself. If you push me, I hurt you. You hurt me? I don't feel anything. Keep walking. I'm moving on.
You are completely uninteresting to me, as if you didn't even exist. But if you touch me, I hurt you. You don't feel it. It's the same with me: if someone hurts me, I don't feel it. Blood flows. On we go. Until the final whistle. The bosses say when it's enough. Otherwise it goes on, on and on.
No wonder the scene takes place in a military hospital. I'm sure they can find a use for recruits who have been changed in this way.
6 Friedrich, impatient, others are getting impatient too.
Susanne Diez: Abu Graib, again. Hands chopped off. Feet too? Man as a disposable product. Torture to be endured only through total anaesthesia. Total loneliness of the tortured. Is carried away. Blood, sweat, excretions, hot, disgust. Soldiers joking outside. For a young soldier it was his first mission. He does not show his feelings: the superior tells him that tomorrow he will do the first torture. Afterwards it's like a vigorous fitness exercise. Loneliness, nobody cares.
Own rubbing like act of violence. Did maximum violence to the mushroom.
Then different: trip in Iraq, in Ur, bombers fly over. Mushrooms after the drops.
Beginning and end of civilisation but of destruction, not of being human.
Then sensation of shaking from below, like earthquake.
Pain in left jaw joint. Re thumb in bed of nails. People streaming out of machine shop, blank faces.
Want to see more pictures of such blank faces?
What can I do?
Go through the graves, go through.Jan: Child soldiers. First shoot the parents, then they can shoot anyone.
Friedrich: At
Salix alba: Bad things happened, but you don't feel anything. (Aspirin painkiller)
Medicine when deep pain and you have no feeling left. Weeping willows next to war memorial, he noticed only today, often passed by.
Markus: As if someone had broken my jaw with his fist. Dentist actually pulled his tooth, probably broke bone in the process. Splinters came little by little over the next few months.
Christa: Dizziness, upwards, as a helicopter. Burning behind eyes. Emptiness in the brain, like an idiot. No clear thought. No one understands what the others are saying. Doesn't get anywhere. All just noise. You have to be friendly with me.
Günter: Smell goes into all the crevices, all the convolutions of the brain. Heat. Biros falls he could have prevented it because it was in slow motion, but can't. Peering holes in the air.
In plaster, in traction, fixed, paralysed. Smell becomes corrosive, gas chamber. No evasion. Emotionless. Best to breathe deeply, then it's over quickly. It's all about transition, but it's far away. One way.
Then again: unbreakable connection with life, very simple, without demands. I don't have to do anything.
Lower jaw on the right; under skull bone itches, can't reach it. Remodelling on a grand scale.
Christine: Timekeeping doesn't work. Clock 6-4-6-4 is not right here. But Queen Bee is right on the dot. Brain as dynamo, as a coil that is unwound.
In the centre, there is the brain stem. Huge abyss. Steel cable over it, one goes over it calmly, absolutely unswervingly.
I stay in my centre, no matter how fast life's merry-go-round turns.
Old man on the bench I've experienced a lot, but I'm at peace.
Unwavering determination. Fairground, roller coaster, sweets sensory overload is also a form of violence.
MS. Nerves are cleaned through, transparent again.
Children's laughter, free of judgement.
Dying is the glide into life.
Friedrich: just being there, not having to think about anything. Hot, stuffy, had to get out and rock.
Hans: not emotional on the way. Comfortable. If I were at home, I would have this and that to do now. Relaxed, not empty, don't have to do anything, just rub a bit. Then he remembered the "stupid" saying: now I'll rub the hen until she gets dizzy.
We felt like old people in a home, sitting quietly together.
Petra: Strong head pressure upstairs. Head becomes lighter, tired, yawning, fate can be very simple. Head pressure. We are supposed to lie, to stupefy. Why and what for do I have head pressure now? Redemption: I dive through the holes of the sponge, and a suction cup on my head (suction cup!?) Susanne: Brutal; everything smelled blatantly of sperm. I could have puked. Children were raped, oral sex. Indifference. Seclusion. Separation of body and sensation.
Later stomach soothed and head empty.
Scraping wallpaper.
What does stress do to you?
Can't talk about it, so much shame. Makes head even fuller.
Last stage: light, laughed. Didn't smell like sperm anymore. Head clear, no thoughts. Thinking of nothing. As if in meditation. Free.
Jan: saw documentary about Canadian children who were abused. One flagellated himself after abuse, in the shower.
Prover Christina FrodinalC1
Be on point, calm, unwavering.
Hot red head.
Twitching in the whole body.
Consequences of whiplash, cervical spine syndrome, severe craniocerebral trauma, degenerative disease, brain atrophy, consequences of hanging, very high cross-section.
Amnesia after severe brain trauma.
Craving for sugar.
Nerves like wire, wide noodles.
Complaints after vaccinations especially neuronal and brain symptoms.
Corona vaccination: graphene oxide as indication?
C2Deep wound, shaken in the core.
Small, crouched.
Feeling as if the head were cut off 90-99% from behind and hanging only by a thread. This also figuratively expresses that the spiritual and earthly levels are almost completely separated.
Great regenerative power.
The knowledge of the double helix/DNA is made accessible again.
No fears.
No emotions until emotionally stable.
C3Confusions, caught in a dead end, no orientation.
Concrete in the head.
Absolute emptiness - NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING.
Stereotypes, slurring, scribbling.
No coherent thoughts possible.
Rudimentary vegetation.
No own expression possible.
No contact with the outside world (but no locked in syndrome, no waking coma).
No sensation of pain.
Hanging head!!!
Puppet thrown into a corner in a dusty attic full of cobwebs.
C4Reconnected interaction of pineal gland and pituitary gland This means that our individual soul potential is again fully flowing into our physical body and our actions.
New networking, new transmitters in the CNS.
Heaven on earth and fullness of life and most original vitality.