The Freedom of Knowledge, The Power of Thought ©

Orgone Adventures

Mission to Tibet, Part 7

By Jeff Baggaley <>
December 20, 2002

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3  Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Selung Monastery
Having capped the enegy drain at Kailash, the following morning's task was to close the dimentional portal through which White Brotherhood had ages ago made their entry into this world. Angela and I had dowsed that it was located in or very near to one of the two monasteries located at the heart of Kailash, on the southern side of the Mountain-- at Selung Monastery. Why there and not one of the other four monasteries surrounding the mountain I would discover as soon as I saw Selung in person.

Sam and I set out soon after dawn that morning. I can't tell you how my legs ached that morning from the previous couple of days of trekking. But led onward by Sam's inexaustable reservoirs of energy, we started out-- scaling the cliff at the head of Darchen that led up to the trail was the first order of business. About 300 feet of cliff. Oh boy! And that was but the beginning of a constant steep upward acsent that, given how tired I was, was perhaps even more grueling than the previous two days' trekking.

And THEN, when I choose to take what turned out to be the wrong turn- taking the path leading to Gyandrak Monastery instead of to Selung Monastery, I damned near croaked on the spot. As it turned out, it wasn't the wrong turn after all, however difficult the journey proved to be.

Going to Gyang drak Monastery first gave us access to Selung from up above- over a ridge and then down to Selung- instead of walking to the Monastery from down below. It gave a better vantage point from which to assess HHg positioning possibilities.

And THEY were expecting me from below- not above.

From the moment we had first started out that morning, the sky was seriously HAARPed- and grew increasingly so as the day progressed, while we made our way to the monasteries. The atmosphere was so choked with DOR, I could- using a side wise squint, looking in the same way you would to see an aura- literally see it precipitating out of the air, falling like black snow. The puzzling thing about this HAARP-like sky however was that the closest towers were probably the ones in Ali, 330 kms away. I do not know by what means the sky had been HAARPed out like that.

The trek up to Gyangdrak, like I said, was hard like the bejesus. What kept me going was recalling the Sun Dancers at the Sun Dance in South Dakota this summer- how unbelievably tough they are. That and praying hard.

Reaching Gyangdrak was like having that first taste of water after dancing four days in the sweltering Badlands Sun.

And then it was down to Selung.

I dowsed to position the HHg. Dowsed if there was anyone in or around the monastery to watch where I put the HHg.

No one around. The Monastery was barred, locked and gated.

Afetr positioning the HHg, I saw smoke coming from the monastery chimney. Walking close, wanting to check it out, I heard muffled sounds coming from inside. Not quite human. I dowsed if there was anyone inside. Nope. At least no human inside. Not being as scientific as perhaps I should be, I refused to check in the windows to see what could be making those sounds (maybe I have watched too many movies and my imaginationwas getting the better of me). But I was definitely getting a little creeped out, so I called to Sam who had been meanwhile taking photos of Kailash - the southern face of Kailash- as close as you are going to get to the southern face of Kailash- the Swastika face.

That was why the White Brotherhood portal was here- it was at the Swastika face- the face of Power. Spiritual Power.

Orgone Transformation
So Sam and made a hasty retreat, descending along the river bank path. The path we should have orginally ascended. I wanted to have a last look at Kailash at such close quarters, so turned around to have a look. HOLYJESUSCHRISTSAM! Will you look at that!

Ever since I started busting last spring, I've seen some really intense blue skies- as have you all, but I have NEVER ever seen anything like the blue that framed snow-capped Kailash that winter morning!

No more HAARPed-like skies around the Mountain. Only this BLUE that itself could only be the color of divinity. BLUE like the BLUE of Khrisna. BLUE like the BLUE of the Enlightened Buddha's crown. Kailash was radiating the sky around her with her divinity. Sam and I were totally in thrall to that BLUE for what seemed an eternity- captured by Kailash.

Then it was time to go. Such was our lightness of being that instead of walking the path alongside the frozen river back to Darchen, we fairly tripped with joy as we skated down the river in our hiking boots.

It didn't take long, once back in Darchen, to find transportation from Darchen, back to Moincer. That $$$ thing works every time. Back in Moincer, Sam's soldier friends promised to help us find a lift to Ali- which they did the following morning.

The first truck that stopped at the roadblock that was going to Ali. Actually he wasn't really going to Ali, but about 50 kms short of Ali. However, one of the soldiers had walkied over to the truck, hoisted himself up and grabbed hold of the wheel. Then he TOLD the driver that he WAS going to Ali and that he WAS going to take us with him. The soldier then negotiated a price for the trip with the driver on our behalf. It was considerably less than the short trip from Darchen to Moincer. (I wasn't too happy with the proceedings, but I had a bus to make the following day- ticket already paid for, so I couldn't miss it- Time was getting short.)

As it was, it was a good thing we were on that truck because 7 hours later, when we made it back to Ali and I had stopped at the bus station (read- hole in the wall) to confirm my passage back to Lhasa, HOLYSHIT, the bus was departing within the hour!

But "isn't that a day early?" I asked.

"Yes it is, but it's now or wait another four days"

"Let's go!"

I said my goodbyes and thanks to Sam for everything and not a half hour later, after picking up supplies, I had retreated to the sleeper compartment I had reserved for myself at the front of the bus-- (was it only 6 days ago?.. It seemed like a month).

I should back track a little and tell of a few observations I made of the sky while travelling from Darchen to Ali.

Simply put, for all the world it looked like there was a battle going on in the sky between two types of clouds- between HAARP style clouds and - I kid you not- big fluffy clouds that looked as though they had wings. I say this because of what happened on the trip back to Lhasa. I had the distinct impression that I had seriously pissed off some 'people'.

The Journey Back
The second night aboard the bus, the ongoing heart chakra attacks [black magicians] became especially severe. I knew that it definitely wasn't the altitude because we were in the process of descending DOWN to Lhasa's much lower altitude. We were having really serious problems with the bus as well. Over and over it would break down. We managed to barely make it to Shigaste- about a day outside of Lhasa- before it totally broke down and got laid up for the entire day in Shigatse, before we got rolling just after sundown that third night.

Then I was overwhelmed by an attack whose ferocity left me reeling- feeling like I was going to have a major stroke. It was at that moment that I recalled the amulet made from a red stone from Kailash that Ali had given me. I hadn't wanted to wear the amulet previously because, what with the passport pouch, Ben's orgonite pendulum, and a few other things that I wore around my neck, I didn't want the amulet tangled or worse broken in that mass of stuff.

But the message was loud: PUT IT ON! So I tore all the stuff off and put on the butterfly amulet. The moment the butterfly covered my heart chakra, I felt no more attack- Zero. I could very distinctly feel the energy break on the stone and ripple out, but not a thing got through. It was a stunning display of magic- both types.

Then there was this old Chinese guy who got into my bunk beside me. Actually there are two bunks per sleeper, so it wasn't really MY bunk per se- my former bunk mate having bailed in Shigatse ("too much crap going on" he explained to me in his broken English.). Then this old Chinese guy is talking to me in my head- clear as a bell! He was explaining how to stop these attacks- what to do- along with other things I need not go into now.

Then the driver went blind-- while driving! The second driver took over.

We were driving alongside a mountain ledge- up and around the mountain-the ledge about a foot or so away.

The second driver went blind--while driving.

No one else on the bus went blind; only the drivers.

The old Chinese guy sprung into action. I too got out of my bunk. Both drivers were put into that sleeper compartment, in obvious pain. They were soon comatose. I was starting to get a little nervous. Ah well, it's a good day to die!

[I was beginning to suspect that the White Brotherhood didn't want me to make it back- and post. That's ALL I could think of doing once I made it back to Lhasa-- post just how EASY (really!) it all had been. Show the world what these guys are all about. All you got to do to take it back, take back your birthright -- OUR BIRTHRIGHT -- Take it back. Simple. Not only does the Emperor have no clothes; he's not even an emperor! There is NO emperor. The whole thing's a sham. The entire show has been able to occur because of our complicity and tacit acceptance of the parameters of the 'reality' that has been fashioned for us. You can leave the theatre anytime you want--YOUR decision.]

A young Tibetan - a king in disguise, such was his appearance, in the bunk beside mine -started to sing- haunting, soul stirring melodies. He would not let up on his singing until we arrived in Lhasa, a day later.

One of the passengers, who apparently used to be a soldier, had some training in driving a vehicle of the type in which we found ourselves (perhaps "imprisoned" is too strong, though it certainly flet like we were bound inside that bus, at least for the duration) had taken the wheel at the Chinaman's direction. And thus, we continued our journey to Lhasa- soldier driving slowly; Chinese guy sitting beside him watching the road like a hawk; Tibetan king chanting; other passengers dozing; and Jeff resigned to whatever fate had in store.

And so we went throughout that long night, until sleep, with the stealth of a thief in Kathmandu, stole over Jeff briefly.

We soon found ourselves back in Lhasa..... LHASA! LHASA! LHASA!

I splurged and got a hotel room at the Yak Hotel with running hot water ($20. US), took a bath, and slept the sleep on one coming home victorious. I can't tell you how good that sweet slumber felt.

Jeff Baggaley

Part 8


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