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This is a series centered around bringing a detailed personal account to the process of living and self-discovery as one identified by themselves and others as a "Cryptid," or a supernatural being most commonly depicted in folklore. It is designed to shed light on a possible way of life and stir up a community and conversation within that community about cryptozoology and what it means (possibly) to be a cryptid. This is a series centered around bringing a detailed personal account to the process of living and self-discovery as one identified by themselves and others as a "Cryptid," or a supernatural being most commonly depicted in folklore. It is designed to shed light on a possible way of life and stir up a community and conversation within that community about cryptozoology and what it means (possibly) to be a cryptid.




Too many crystals?


The week since my first brush with the world of dragons, the revelations has been rather anti-climactic. What was promised (or at least strongly hinted at) by some ethereal narrator has yet to come. There has been no familiar reunion, there were no epiphanies, prophetic dreams, astral projections etc. Not that I was given a timetable for any such things to occur, but darn it I was excited! I repeated the settings that brought on the strangely noetic dreams: Sodalite and Jade at my bedside (with the addition of moonstone, amethyst, Black Tourmaline, and clear quartz) and a dose of 5 HTP before sleep: nothing. Odd dreams (as usual), but nothing of the metaphysical persuasion.

I will say, though, that the whole experience has gotten me to become better acquainted with the above mentioned stones. I learned that, at least in my case, Sodalite is a very prosaic, easy-going crystal. It's definitely a stone to have around when/if one wants to psych themselves up, as it gives an uncanny feeling of being tuned into the most enjoyable angle of most situations. In line at the grocery store check-out, for example, I started to thumb the little triangular specimen in my pocket; immediately a cool feeling of knowing just what to say, of being interested in talking to anybody at all--I felt like I do when getting ready to go out on the town. Also, oddly enough, I began to get a sense of the flavor of objects just by looking at them (even if they were suggestions). It started with a minty chocolate taste in my mouth. I quickly determined that this was from seeing a few jars of truffles with the same flavor earlier. I began to look around, first at a case of soda, then at a stylized, cut-out orange, both of which surrendered the flavors they pointed at to my taste buds with the help, I think, of that little rock in my pocket.


Moonstone is also quite lovely. It felt to me as one might feel a coy lover, the way its energy seemed to be something too important to ignore and doubly so not to squander with the same chomp the ravenous appetites might call for--and I believe this gourmandisation of spiritual insight is something that is terribly wrong with the mystical communities in many circles. Perhaps I was taught this lesson the hard way.