Percept Index — All updates

Three times this week I went looking for something and found it already in hand.

I laid down to run the Energy Food track from Wave III one last time.

There is one event I've kept out of the record for a year, and I kept it out because of a word.

Last Saturday, 20261010, I had my usual extended afternoon meditation and immersive altered-state session.

This cycle ran one idea at three sizes, and I didn't plan it that way.

One night this week Kim and I had a brief chat on whether AI alignment frees us as a species to go further out or brings an end to us in one way or another.

Disclosure has never moved this fast in all the decades it's been demanded.

Every form that the ghost takes is an outline, and every outline wears a mustache.

The seventh spread, a week about what comes along with you, and a new name for the series.

Why the techniques that work eventually fade, and why every cast from here on is an invitation.

Two sources this week ended on the same question, what can you do with consciousness exploration.

Two wood-burn portraits by my great uncle Yura, carried from Russia with the family Kalevala and kept through every move.

This spread was supposed to be about the double leaving the bed.

A compoint session that ended in sleep, the blank that keeps stopping me from building one, the white flash that answers gratitude, and the scene that was mine all along.

The unpublished account of the kundalini awakening from July 2025, the console panel that now reads the same thing, and what the order of the event says about the current.

About a year and a half ago I had an experience during trance that left me dumbfounded.

Field Notes of Rahgah have been illustrated the same way since the start, until this week.

Wednesday I said the question for this work has become what puts this physical body at ease fast enough for awareness to leave it alone.

Most of the meditations while I'm at the office are shorter than my usual and typically involve either a pass at problem solving or simply practicing presence.

Last cycle ended with the dive pointed at whatever **I am**.

The fourth spread is done.

I lay down for a half-hour session this afternoon thinking about a reorientation of my practice.

It's been about two or three weeks of not feeling like the walking dead.

Technically it started at the end of 2019.

The third spread is done.

One of the biggest blocks in my practice was wrapping my head around the fact that imagination is commonly used to bootstrap altered states.

A particular kind of vision began appearing during my meditations sometime last year, and it continues to resurface to this day.

Let me open this cycle with an admission.

The second spread is done.

One of the hardest lessons I've learned, and arguably still learning, is releasing my grip on the intent.

This cycle kicked off on Wednesday inside of a stasis tank.

Rahgah is a fourth density world.

The first page is here.

Descent and arrival is always so unnecessarily dramatic.

A quiet contemplation before a lifelong slumber.

Today starts something new -- Field Notes of Rahgah, a wordless to near-wordless serial told one panel at a time.

The lamp is still dim.

As recovery marches on, slowly, methodically, a little more energy day by day, I've found it difficult to focus on anything other than the metamorphosis of Field Notes (what you're reading right now).

In the last three weeks the quality of meditations and immersive altered states has degraded substantially or completely dropped off.

Just as I was finishing up a sketch on a Saturday evening, the tail end of the last cycle, a track called "Divine Path" by V-Society & Rave Nine came through the earbuds.

The week had exactly one moving part.

My task this afternoon was to channel Kenny Rogers as I *Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)*.

This week's "return to form," after last week's adventure time, was foiled by a nasty virus that I am certain Kim and I caught during our attendance at the aquarium.

Every step forward in the exploration of consciousness uncovers more questions, as if the process were a recursive function keeping us forever unfinished.

The week ran on deliveries I didn't order.

As this weekly cycle approaches to a close I find myself drawn back to the beginning, Monday, when **333** made a striking appearance after a substantial hiatus.

All week my meditations have been on the quiet side.

We took the trailer to the coast for three days.

One essay, one Field Notes entry, and a week that kept saying the same thing in rooms that don't talk to each other.

Today my mind has been preoccupied with completing the last of the pre-trip maintenance on our travel trailer.