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  • Ben Mackinnon

Channelling Anger and Wrath

Updated: Dec 1, 2019


(Extract from 'Diary Of A Lucid Dreamer)

AVAILABLE: Early 2020


'It is interesting the things that change over time. From the fear of the darkness to being fearless, fucking demons and contemplating attempting to understand that energy and harness it.


My first clear attempts at this in a dream were two key experiences that have stayed with me for years, for both good and bad reasons. I set the intention before bed to become lucid and to work with wrath and anger in a controlled way to understand it for the benefit of all beings. The logic sounded good enough as far as I was concerned but whether it held up in theory was an entirely different question.


In the earlier hours of the morning, I found myself in the dreamscape of a suburban street. The unfamiliar scene triggered me into lucid awareness. I remember my dream plan and start to generate compassion towards the dream with a specific Tibetan sound syllable. The scene becomes relaxed and calm.


It was here things got wild.


Wild like dating a Gemini woman and having no idea which way was up or down or who was going to come out to play. This was about to be the experience for my dream characters. I began to tap mindfully into the energy of wrath. I felt it well up first in my belly. It became hot. I roared loudly and transformed until I was pure wrath as in the demon experience. The scene instantly transformed and became dark and red. I then proceeded to rip the scene apart directing my mind into it and tearing it to pieces like a decrepit old building commissioned for demolition.


It was pure carnage.


That's probably the best way to explain it. Dream characters lying in the street sobbing and dismembered. Cars overturned and ablaze. Volcanoes erupting from underneath the ground with hot molten lava flowing down the streets. I felt powerful. I felt strong. Weirdly it was extremely intoxicating like sexual desire and sexual power. I decided to stop. I began to chant the same sound syllable of compassion I started with and directed that compassion towards the destruction I had deliberately created and those that had endured it. Slowly the scene began to piece itself together. The characters reassembled themselves and the volcanoes subsided. By the end, it was the same scene. Birds chirping and dream characters smiling going about their 'lives' and at that moment I would have called the experiment a great success.


So a few nights later I decided to try again.


Again I set a strong intention before bed and found myself in the early hours of the morning in a dream standing by a duck pond in a small park. Some anomaly in the reflection of the pond triggered me into full lucidity. Like the night a few days before I took the same tack and begun to generate compassion towards the scene and the ducks. All became happy and calm.


Now. to fuck shit up.


I tapped into wrath and again the scene changed. The difference this time was that the ducks did not cower and run like the characters in the street a few nights before but instead became demonic and enraged and begun to attack me, their becks pecking like jackhammers searching for my eyes.


Then I lost it.


I became enraged. I wanted them to suffer. I felt intoxicated with power and as them as my objects to submit to my will. I grabbed each one ripping them to pieces with my bare hands as their bloodied lifeless carcasses lay on the ground by my feet. In that moment of rage, an elevator dropped slap bang in the middle of the garden in front of me. A robed wise-looking old Asian man with a neatly trimmed white beard got out. He actually looked a lot like Mr. Mayagi from the 1980's classic 'The Karate Kid'. He walked straight up to me with a compassionate yet disapproving look on his face. He gave me a big hug then said 'You can't do this. It never ever works'. I understood what he meant straight away. That the energy could quickly become too much for the practitioner and begin to twist them in the way the dark arts, sexual perversion and power games ultimately do.


I thanked him. He said we would meet again as he got back into his elevator.


It would be sooner rather than later...




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