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Spirit Walking In The Rain

Spirit walking in the rain, or

Journeys to the spirit world

By Dean Moriarty

Copyright 2015

Unabridged and First Edition

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My first journey to the spirit world began long ago when I was young and naive.

I feel now that it was something that was going to happen whatever, and looking back on it all it did seem that all my steps took me to the door that opened for me without any urging on my part, in fact it just appeared in the middle of the road I was on and I fell through it into another world that was wonderful and strange in a way I’d never known before.

Fate and fortune had brought me to it and welcomed me in and I was really pleased to be in such a place of discovery.

That first time for me was a wonderful experience, mostly, and I was happy and pleased to stay there for as long as I could, but it was an introduction and not to last that long; but while I was there I had fun and in that fun I was guided.

I didn’t know that first time that I had a spirit guide, so called, that was with me, and later I found was what brought me to it and without which I would have been totally lost, for as I’ve said, it was a strange place; and I’d brought all my hang-ups with me that were shown to me in a not ungentle way for me to know them and work on them after I’d come back.

Looking back on my life I can see it now as a long road I’ve travelled; and so too in the spirit world I was on a long road and as I walked along it, or perhaps I should say, as it unravelled around me many lessons came to show me my heart and all that had been placed around it to keep me from it.

Although I was young and naive the choice had always been there to follow something that was calling or to ignore it, but to follow it I had to be the warrior, or at least to be myself and fearless which is really all that a warrior is anyway.

In the early days the road was what I walked outside of me that pointed in many directions that usually came to lead inside. And then later, as the layers of illusion fell away I discovered it has always been an inner journey to my heart and the love that was there waiting patiently for me to come home. I had much unravelling to do to get there though.

The spirit world is not a place to enter lightly and for the uninitiated can be daunting and not a little scary and without a spirit guide it is easy to become lost.

Without a pure heart or a pure intention the wrong doors will open and lead you on into places that are too heavy to bear and will drain your energy to leave you exhausted, as I came to find out later when I tried to do it alone against all the signs and portents that said not to.

This too was a valuable lesson that I learned the hard way; and such was my bringing of me to the darkness in me and I found it too late to turn back and had to go through it.

This darkness I fought with for the longest time until one day I began to realize the futility of this and so began my journey back to the light.

I didn’t know it at the time, but even in this darkest of times my guide was with me and I feel now that if my guide hadn’t been with me I would have been crushed unmercilessly and would have become a lost soul in the spirit world to wander aimlessly forever.

And then fear came and attacked me from all sides and I became thin and wasted and was driven back from all I knew as good and joyful.

In the last bastion of my inner being I came to the citadel of my heart, and entering I found a space to rest and re-coup my energies. It was revealed to me in this place that fear was but a myth in my understanding and an illusion my spirit must repair before it would be prudent to leave as I knew I must do before too long.

The threads of understanding were opened to me and I used them to sew up the rent where fear was coming from.

And so I was able to hold back fear and emerge back into the world and take my place with all the others who had appeared in my journey; and then I found I was not so alone as I had thought I was and that my fight against darkness was not just my own.

The light had been calling to me all along to stand up and be true and to not surrender to the darkness but to stand firm.

Light and dark are in all of us and our choices direct our journey. When the light of understanding has been lit, darkness is pushed back and cannot enter the light for it is not real and has no means of support but what we let and when uncovered by the light shrivels up and dispels as no more than our own ignorance.


The most popular way to enter the spirit world is with a substance, usually a natural one such as mushrooms. One such mushroom is peyote in which you must be guided when you take it. But these days, with the veils lifting it is possible to go there unaided with just the power of the spirit, and although it can be a place of some concern if there is any doubt, these days it is not such an unknown as it used to be.

If, after you’ve come back from the spirit world and you find yourself seeing the normal world through your eyes and yet your spirit is still half in the other place this can be likened to schizophrenia and you will have to address this problem as a priority or find yourself neither here nor there.

There are two ways to go about it: the first way is to meditate and go deep to find your spirit and become one with it. This can take a while but once accomplished you most often find yourself with great power.

The other way is to go into the spirit world using the same method you first did and to search out where your spirit is and then reintegrate, but be aware of any reason your spirit stayed there though as there may be a message for you or a sign; or it may be that your spirit is caught and needs releasing.

Not all who journey to the spirit world return: I had a friend once, a long time ago who called to me from a darkness that was pulling him in; this was in the early days when I was not so adept; I heard him and did my best but he slipped away from me and was lost.

They put his body in an insane asylum and though I have looked for him this long time I’ve never found where he went; maybe it was his time to go.

Each of us has a journey that we walk alone and we must walk it bravely for even in the normal world there are dangers that can suck us in.

The greatest defence against any of it is to know yourself and to be close to the great-spirit as much as you are able.

If you don’t know yourself you are subject to the illusion and the walls you use to guard yourself and live behind can fall down at any time leaving you defenceless and at the mercy of any passing darkness that would have at you and make you its own.

In this way you could say the spirit world is likened to the normal one: if you don’t expect it then it doesn’t happen, unless you are unaware, and except when a bad spirit wants to get your attention or give you a fright.

Another friend of mine, in the early days, was lost in the spirit world, and although he seemed normal to most people I could tell he wasn’t at home; and then one day his body was found floating face down in the middle of a woods in a dark pond there.

Perhaps he was trying to re-call his body and spirit together, the same way he entered; who can say; he too was lost to me.

One other friend was lost, in that time: they said she was possessed, but I knew her as a crazy and fun girl who couldn’t get enough of life and living.

She told me, just before she left that her parents tried many ways to tame her and make her as they would have her.

And then one day they put her in the insane asylum for a time and when she came out she was changed, no more the wild girl. They’d done something to her to drive out the spirit of her and what was left was some kind of zombie.

I never did meet her in the spirit world but I knew she’d been there for there were many traces of her along the pathways and in one clearing I found the energy signature of a great struggle and what was left behind of a despair and loss I didn’t want to touch.

What all this meant I can’t say now for since that time all vestiges of her have disappeared and all I can detect now is a lingering hollowness that I avoid.

Those days were wild for all of us as we explored our world in all its many forms and layers. Some of us danced in and out regardless of any danger, and some of us fell and were never seen again; but mostly it was a whole bunch of fun and learning.

None of us wanted to grow old or change even though we had the whole pressure of the established world against us; but mostly we avoided the hands of the fear makers and stayed wild and free.

Yes, some of us fell and stumbled in different ways as we came into our power, but it was the price we paid at that time to grow in our spiritual being and knowing.

As we grew out of the old paradigms the establishment became more afraid of us for we would bring great change which mostly they were not capable of for they’d dug themselves in deep into an unsustainable world of destruction of which we wanted no part of.

A lot of us hid and worked behind the lines to bring about a change for the better or at least to expose them that were destroying the world with their greed and hunger for power over the rest of us.

Those that didn’t hide but stood up and shone bright for all the world to see were branded as malcontents and deviants and came to an unjust end that was explained away by the establishment as an unfortunate accident or other some and such thing to falsify what really happened to them. But their message was out for all who would see it.

I don’t go to the spirit world much these days, I live a quiet life now, but when I do go there I find myself humbled by all the ones who have fallen and can’t get back, and the ones who have gone there and stayed by choice, and if I look deeply I can see the ghosts of all the ones who are no more, and mostly I see they’re not unhappy.

The spirit world is a place that can bring about great power for you, but it must be used wisely in conjunction with the great-spirit, for power can corrupt if used in the wrong way or for the wrong purpose.

So let the great-spirit guide you in all matters of the heart for it knows your deepest place and wants only what is best for you.


This dream is about the dream of a dream we dream while dreaming in the spirit world.

“Psst,” said the electric whisper ever so quietly from the dark doorway of a street of wandering.

“What?” said the wind as it was passing by.

“I have a tale I want you to spread about,” said the electric whisper.

“Oh,” said the wind and began to listen to the tale being told:

The double life of an echo on a mission came about when the sigh frog exploded into nervous apprehension in the twisted fate coming its way and startled the blarney dog to run away with itself, quick-like and making yelp-like squeals that settled in the bottom of the postman’s bag and hid there out of sight for a while.

This is when the big scream from the fairground put in an appearance and jangled the nerves of the electric whisper on a tea break.

“That’ll be a shilling then,” said the waitress who couldn’t be moved to come any lower and was holding on to her dreams tightly in case something funny happened out of the blue and made her want to escape to anywhere to escape.

Over in the snatches for dinner where the cows never came home ole warble twisted foot was using loud language to get his point across and was just about to launch into a rendition of hurray, ups a daisy when his wife came in and threatened everyone into silence with her broomstick that was playing up for want of a service.

“That’ll be two and six,” said the waitress hoping to restore world peace with her asking.

No one paid her any mind, maybe because they didn’t have one between them or perhaps it was because of the electric whisper that was sighing to the sigh frog a faithless doom that touched the bottom of any spirit within range.

The double life of an echo on a mission pulled the common denominator switch out of its pocket and flicked it on and pretty soon a whirling mist was there and out jumped the dancing girls and the band struck up a rousing tune, the beer flowed and all was well again but not counting what couldn’t be counted in the well that ran deep and was snoring away upstairs and didn’t hear a thing even though Iron the Eileen’s ghost was doing her best to arouse the dead from their death and was growing dizzy with her efforts.

The parliamentary election came along and handed out flyers and hugged small children that were in short supply just then, and their promises were most splendid as they were heaved through the door back out into the street where they belonged.

The reactionary platitude that had relieved itself from the other side was being drip-fed coffee under the wardrobe that was creaking with the weight of too many late night stands and yet was perfectly happy to be where it was, for who needs to wander when everything you want is right where you are.

In the backroom of guarded secrecy no longer secret rusty diamonds were being exchanged for dirty gold and vice versa, ad infinitum, and as the clock on the wall was broken everyone was happy there too.

An ache where no ache should be was chained and bound to this idea and so couldn’t get away to pursue anything else, which is often the case in the spirit world where nothing can be said to make any sense; unless it’s encased in two feet thick of ice, and even then it tends to wander.

After an ageless age the blarney dog pulled itself out of the postman’s bag and made a run for it like a blue streak on the existential level until it went round the bend and there on a wall was the legend: Is laughter a derivative of your unease? Do you use it to fill in the discomfort of silence? Perhaps you need unlimited responsibility.

“Not me,” said the blarney dog and shot off to disappear down a rabbit hole to write a postcard that said: “I will come back when I’m not here and then I shall see what can’t be seen and know that though there’s nothing to be known, I shall know because I’ve found what can’t be found in the place that isn’t.”

The electric neon rose to the sky then and said: “I came from somewhere to here with the volume full on; which made perfect sense to the blathering gathering milling about waiting for the chicken shop to open.

Half an ounce later everything fell into the hole of where it used to be and the five fingered hand indicated to carry on unless it was finishing time.

“Ah, rocket science,” said the electric whisper as it pulled into a dark doorway to wait for the wind to come along.


On the altar where the Holy Virgin used to stand was a dark ruin that still smoked hours after the blast had vaporised the statue into dust that the wind blew away to land years later in a Sardinian field where it sank into the ground to nourish the flowers that grew there and then were picked and placed on the altar where by now another Holy Virgin stood.

One day, the man who had blown up the first Holy Virgin was released from prison and after making another bomb blew up the Holy Virgin again and was sent back to prison.

The priest who resembled a wino by now and in whose care the statue had been in, set off from his church one fine morning and went to visit the Virgin bomber in his cell.

“He’s in there,” said the guard.

The priest walked into the cell and the door banged behind him.

On entering the cell he found six men in two bunks: one red, one white, one blue, one black, one yellow and a dwarf.

“Which one is the Virgin bomber,” he asked looking at each of the six in turn.

The dwarf had a twitchy eye and soon turned away from the hard stare of the priest and didn’t say anything.

The yellow man was a Buddhist and didn’t speak English so turned away out of boredom and went to sleep.


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Spirit Walking In The Rain

My first journey to the spirit world began long ago when I was young and naive. I feel now that it was something that was going to happen whatever, and looking back on it all it did seem that all my steps took me to the door that opened for me without any urging on my part, in fact it just appeared in the middle of the road I was on and I fell through it into another world that was wonderful and strange in a way I’d never known before. Fate and fortune had brought me to it and welcomed me in and I was really pleased to be in such a place of discovery.

  • ISBN: 9781310989025
  • Author: Dean Moriarty
  • Published: 2015-11-28 14:50:07
  • Words: 31550
Spirit Walking In The Rain Spirit Walking In The Rain