THREE LOAFERS (Part 2)
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I was standing more or less in the centre of the old bandstand as Les roller-skated around on the still intact wood floor. "Mazy is correct to say we are feeling beings, but so are cats and horses." He delivered his sentences whilst whizzing around. His kite was almost out of sight, it was so high above the bandstand fastened to a bandstand railing. "The biggest difference is that we talk... not only to others... but silently to our own awareness... and this silent inward talking we call 'thinking'. Thoughts are made of words." "According to Mazy, she has a worldly self and a God self. Her undertaking is for her God self to educate her world self. to teach it to be kind, empathic and forgiving." "Mazy is truly amazing Clem. I don't know much about the belief in karma but it is a great mystery how it is that people like Mozart and Mazy seem to come, like Jesus, from a different enlightened world." Suddenly a swarm of young kids about ten years old had spotted the high-flying kite and crowded around the outside of the bandstand. "Instead of making a racket, sing one of the sea shanties I've taught you all!" "Pull the kite down Les." "Only after I've heard you all singing." A young would-be loafer treats me as a Guru and sits at my feet in a lotus posture and occasionally asks me questions about enlightenment. I always tell him that I do my best to not feed what I know darkens my outlook. He asked me if self-concern was a dark activity. I told him it was when I was on my own. I started reading the booklet Les had written as a warning. 'How to Recognise a Snake Cult Witch'. He wrote it when he was doing cold turkey, getting cleansed of the poison his girlfriend had fed him on. He says that snake witches are loners, extremely good looking, always dress impeccably in clothes years out of fashion. They always walk through crowded markets, art gallery opening exhibitions and similar situations. In a street market for instance, she will stop at a stall run by an attractive young man and a young attractive young woman. Although she is much older than the young man, he gives her warm vibes of desire. His partner gives her vibes of jealousy and hatred. Having mind control, she blends their conflicting energy with her own narcissistic energy, nods to the demonic ability to read other's mind and subtly makes it clear he stands no chance. This concoction of three energies gives her a very powerful magnetic _presence. I had a beautiful converted old bus then. It was parked on a friend's land at the top of Newlin, with a clear view of St Michael's mount and the whole Penzance Bay. She'd walk in any time she wanted sex... then disappear. Keeping me inside of expectation was her most obvious use of her irresistible power. Her intoxicating power was such that when I went to the Hebrides I craved for her to validate me getting away from her. So be alert to these Snake witches. If they have women friends, they are always less attractive than the captivating snake witch. Of course they would never admit to being a witch." Mazy had a cold sore on her top lip, so for the first time in years we didn't kiss but worked in her garden without kissing. Whilst picking red currents, we discussed Les's pamphlet. Mazy said a few hundreds of years ago she would have been thought to be a witch. The term ‘witch' was applied to single women who were in fact herbalists and healers. Most of them were quite open in their occupation but their undoing was having secret gatherings. The insane notion that they held black-magic sex orgies with the devil were mob fantasies. Even so, what Les had written has some truth in it. Often unwanted babies were left outside their cottage only for them to be accused of looking after an offspring of Satan. "That mob madness makes me ashamed of belonging to the same species. How did they fly?" "They didn't. They imagined they did. In certain covens after a certain successful initiation process using a special broom stick with silver birch twigs, it became the initiate's prided property. The initiation entailed sitting naked on a broom stick resting between two tresses. Near the centre, a paste was plastered on which the would-be witch straddled. The paste contained Datura juice, crushed foxglove and a tincture of belladonna. The sensation brought about by the paste on the vagina was one of flying." "Have you tried it?" "Yes of course, but not in a coven situation, but with my old school friend Peggy who lent us her horse and carriage for the village fair. We didn't use broom sticks but after making the paste we applied it to our own vaginas and laid down out here in two separate hammocks. We stayed high as kites for a day and an entire warm night. We took it at the summer solstice. She came over from France where she teaches Philosophy and Zoology. She is very controversial in France for giving talks and interviews on T.V., pleading the case that it is more ethical to be made love to by own's pet than eating it. Peggy is such a shy, modest woman that if you met her, you would never imagine her favourite passion. And before you ask me if I've tried it, I can assure you that I've never had any sort of cock inside any part of me. I'm as virginal as The Virgin Mary!" A warm week later, instead of a cold sore, I was very amused by bright crimson lips as she munched Logan berries. "My lips are the same colour as my wanton mother's flaming hair. Top and bottom. I must have got the naked approach to garden life from my vanished mother." After a wonderful kissing session, she said that, whilst contemplating Les's message and you saying you could never have done the cold turkey solution, it's because you are a victim of a wandering mind. "Clem, to be a true loafer you have to occupy the host position in relationship to the mind. The 'Guest' position is hopeless. You haven't developed mind discipline... probably because you imagine that it is too difficult or too boring. Actually, it's almost as delightful as a passionate kissing session". Red juice ran down her tanned breasts. "At the start you have to wake up to the fact that all the mind wandering is predicted on the deep, deep need for sexual satisficing. A need that is impossible to satisfy. All the souls I work with in my Spirit deeply understand this." Wiping juice from my lips, I said, "How do I begin?" "By contemplating what I've just told you." "It's a wise decision that you've stayed away from Mazy for a month or so. Everything that she taught you is the absolute truth in the human world. This drive for sexual satisfaction begins when you emerged from your mother's womb. Because Mazy does work on planes we know nothing about, she knows the core of our suffering. Although I sound like a Buddhist–which I'm not–the desire for sexual satisfaction is nothing about the genitals. It's about wanting guaranteed security. You're not going to get to the core of your suffering as long as you treat Mazy as your fairy Godmother. She has got power, but she makes sure you are not addicted to her... like I was to Jaquita, the Snake Witch". As Les finished off his cooked lobster, he said, "Mazy knows how much you need her love but she does not immasculate you. She is directing you to where your real strength lives." "So doing cold turkey on this most important issue is feeling I will always feel dissatisfied and that is it?" "Well, you'll know when you've reached the core of your suffering. This is not a dress rehearsal. Pretending you're a free soul will guarantee that you will go on suffering!" "So, you're telling me that there is no real satisfaction possible within this physical life?" "No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying there is no satisfaction as a result of the fulfilment of desire." "There are so many theories as to how we as individuals came into being. You seem to be saying that wanting to feel a guaranteed unending love drives one back into a woman's womb. But of course, there is no satisfaction in that because one will be not conscious of where one is existing." "Yes, Clem it's endless repetition. Only the cessation of desire brings satisfaction." The next day I was examining the essence of what I had been taught whilst sitting on my bandstand cushion when I jumped up on seeing Mazy walk in wearing a beautiful handmade smock, a wide brimmed straw hat and handmade sandals. We hugged and leant against the inner railings. "I knew you'd be here because I've been down to the creek to talk to you. In a minute I'm going to tell you about an incident that occurred whilst on duty upstairs... but first I have decided that our naked kissing game is over. It creates a situation which will prevent you from becoming a truly free Spiritual soul. Everyone has a soul, but in most cases it is asleep. Only by doing spiritual _work _does one's soul develop. I hope this change in how we are going to operate in the future is not going to make you feel loss? It is a refinement of what we are here for. Which brings me to the incident I want you to know about. Many years ago, when I was first called to help people in a dire condition, our group was led to three men who had lost their bodies within a crashed Russian rocket. All three, because of their atheistic, Communist, conditioning, believed they didn't exist. We tried for ages to wake up their souls without success... until one of them telepathized 'where am I'? We explained he was in an after deathosial. We told him that although he had lost his body, his soul was intact and very much alive. Gradually he began to remember his life on Earth and his own name. Then a wonderful thing happened. he helped us wake up his friend. Then, these awakened souls woke up the third soul. Then we started projecting into the sleeping mothers that their sons were alive. The mothers knew it wasn't dreams and met up and started making their souls sensitive to their son's messages." "Thank you, Mazy". I took to sitting in the pond below my yurt attempting to ‘do a cold turkey' on my obsession with wanting satisfaction. Eventually I went to Mazy's home and asked for help. She told me she was called Grace upstairs and would be happy if I did the same. "Look, I know I seem buoyant now... but don't forget my mother was very emotionally cold and cruel to me. I asked her why her dead parents were not processed like the Russians. She said that sort of work I was incapable of when they died. She was probably dreaming of her next sexual encounter and having an orgasm when she drove off the cliff. Of course it wasn't a real orgasm. One only has one real orgasm in one's life". I was astounded by that proposition, and she said, "How many times do you have to die to be reborn?”, I said I didn't know if I had died and been reborn. "Then you haven't. It's such a life changing event... you'd never forget it!" "How will it happen to me?" "God only knows". She burst out roaring with laughter. I'd been very surprised when I walked into her garden to see an Indian woman wearing a bright grass green sari with her hair in a top knot. She was picking raspberries and her lips bright red. It was Grace. I told her she looked inspiring. We sat down on the bench and exchanged a modest kiss. "You have to understand that consciousness has many, many levels... so no one but the Divine can lead you into the appropriate direction for you to be transformed. It doesn't matter what age you are. That I do know. I've been puzzling over Les's contention that the Snake Cult Witch who controlled his whole life emanated a perfume she had concocted in her soul and could not be smelt but deeply felt. You see Clem it becomes clear by being upstairs... that the whole of true reality is a tapestry of feeling. Everyone upstairs understands each other through feeling. Did the witch operate on a spiritual_ level or was she a con artist? Is there such a true_ approach to reality that is not rooted in an egocentric construction? For you to really give up your drive for satisfaction is a tough call".
"I can see that I'd imagined that by not adopting the world's value system I would live a real spiritual life." "How deluded you were Clem. Spiritual life is beyond all attitudes. Religions are all turning on attitudes. You invented your own loafer religion and got ensnared by your own attitude." Have you seen this about me since we met?" "Of course." It was mid-summer and I was sitting naked in 'my' three-foot-deep pond considering whether I felt left out of Les's and Grace's shared understanding of my 'spiritual' condition. I could feel paranoia creeping in. They both seemed to have the same viewpoint on where I am at. I felt deeply lost and some sort of reject when Les came jogging down the creek, took off his shorts and tee shirt and joined me with a cheerful greeting. My paranoia scuttled off. Les said that Grace was the only person he had ever met in their seventies who was not perplexed by the notion of impending death. We all want to feel deep, authentic peace concerning this issue. Grace advised me, said Les, to bring death close to me. To let it embrace me. That way you'll prevent fear from having an opinion. I told him that I wasn't making much progress with getting deeper than my superficial thoughts. I know these thoughts are a distraction from the real issue, but that understanding doesn't help. "The problem, Clem, is that you haven't learned to focus." "When Grace and I used to kiss for hours I was focused the whole time." "Look I've got two sets of diving gear. I'll introduce you to a new world. Problem free."
© neil oram 2026
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