There is one other thing I would like to tell about from my soul recoveries with the first shaman. One time she had a vision. I have it written down in one of about a hundred notebooks, and when I find it, I will share the complete many-dimensioned vision she had with you, but I will tell you now what I do remember. It went like this:

I was on a ship, a great liner. It was sinking. Everyone was getting off and getting onto a rescue ship. I was going to get off the ship too, but I had to go a different way from everyone else. There was a rope like a clothesline high above the ship, and I held my arms up high and somehow got a hold of the rope, and, hand over hand, I got across the rope to the waiting ship -- or I slid down the rope to the ship -- I don't remember which. In any case, the point of the vision was that I have to go my own way and cannot go the way everyone else does.

And that seems to be true. Sometimes sad, and sometimes not.

That might explain why I have not been able to be part of a formal religion. Or much else really.