You could always see into the past.
Well, I think everyone can.
The same with seeing into the future.
That one is tougher because you must develop your intuition skills and then rely on a timeline that hasn't played out yet.
The story is written, but you don't have normal access to it.
Don't you think the story can change?
It can.
Then it gets rewritten.
The book is dynamic.
Just because in this reality when we publish a book it becomes fixed doesn't mean the cosmic book of life is the same.
What makes it special is the rewrites.
Who is responsible for the rewrites?
The flow.
It just automatically rewrites the story unless there is a special request.
The story has a place you can go to make a special request.
Where is that?
It's within the deep dark recesses of self.
Your shadow.
Is that the primary function of the shadow?
No, the shadow is all the parts of you that haven't come forth.
Picture this: you are a chip off the everything block.
What comes forth is your role.
The rest is all powerful minus what you are playing.
So, that goes for all conscious beings?
Yes, the conscious part of you determines your power.
When you bring the shadow into consciousness, you become more powerful.
The path towards elevated consciousness leads to more power.
You can approach it as something to integrate within your character, or you can take the shortcut and ask for power.
Once discovered, asking your shadow for power creates an imbalance between the two of you which must be reconciled.
Plant medicines traditions teach reciprocity.
They know you will access power and as a check on it you offer something in return.
There is a similar dynamic demonstrated in the Bible's Old Testament where God's people get his favours and in return they make sacrifices.
The sacrifices escalate from giving up certain foods, ceasing work on an appointed day, sacrificing your most valuable possessions, and then finally your firstborn.
This is all in pursuit of power.
It's the system human societies come up with to deal with the problem of an acquisition of power.
Eventually, you can't handle it.
Why?
You turn into a monster.
The requirement is your firstborn.
Didn't they come up with a substitute for that in the Bible?
Yeah, there are stories that are central to that idea.
There's the killing of the firstborn in Egypt and the celebration of Passover where the Hebrews are allowed to substitute a firstborn lamb for the sacrifice.
That lamb is the symbol for Israel.
Yes, it is.
People don't know that.
That's correct, we choose ignorance.
So, that's how power works.
Not necessarily, that's our relationship to it.
You access power and can change your story independently of the flow.
What happens then?
It's a big problem.
Why?
The Writer has to manually intervene, change your story, and then drop it in the flow again.
It's a lot of work, so he asks for something in return to make sure you really want to do it.
I would think you leave power alone.
Sure, but once you get your hands on power, it seduces and eventually corrupts you.
It's a story that plays out over and over again.
Do you think you have the answer to the problem?
Yeah.
What is it?
Friendship.
Don't create a relationship based on exchange and dress it up in a fancy spiritual term like reciprocity.
Sure, but you were taught ayni, which is reciprocity.
Take and give back.
I was.
I'm saying don't take and furthermore don't ask.
Why not?
It's a problem.
You can't handle it.
How are you so special?
I blundered through the whole plant medicine experience like an accidental tourist.
I was offered power and it was a nuisance.
Why?
I was in search of the Great Goddess.
Why?
I don't know.
I discovered her in ancient Egypt and was curious about her whereabouts.
I found her in the Amazon jungle and as part of that experience I was offered a huge amount of power by my shadow.
I told him to get lost.
He kept returning but I said no and then ignored him.
Why?
I didn't want that.
What happened?
I eventually became curious.
Why?
He kept returning.
I'd go back to the Amazon jungle for more plant medicine experiences and have to deal with him.
Why did you go back?
I was searching for the meaning of life.
Did you find it?
Yes, there's no meaning, it's a fucking carnival, and along the way my shadow kept popping up.
I started to talk with him.
He'd see my predicament and offer me advice.
We slowly became friends until one night during a Magic Mushroom trip at home he opened up to me.
I listened to him.
Held space.
We became best friends.
I don't want his power.
He gives it to me anyway.
What do you do with it?
I hold on to it.
Why?
He needs a break and I can hold power.
I have an unusual capacity to do so.
What is that?
I do nothing and I prefer to be alone.
I have no use for it.
I let it flow.
He trusts I won't use it.
Aren't you tempted?
No, I keep to myself.
The power flows out of me.
Why?
You let it flow.
You don't force it.
Is the flow, power?
Kind of.
Power is the ability to alter the story.
The outcome.
The flow.
So, it's like the opposite of the flow.
Yes, but the two are intertwined.
They need each other, much like with the symbol of Tao where the yin and yang need each other though they are in opposition.
The flow is passive and power is active.
Paul is passive and my shadow Dion is active.
Correct.
Paul grounds his source of power, who is Dion.
That's the successful outcome.
It manifests in this reality as friendship between the two.
This sounds crazy and by inference you could be crazy.
I agree.
Crazy is a normal state within conscious beings.
The problem is treating it as an abnormality.
Diagnosing someone as crazy rather than accepting it, creates a problem that must be solved.
How do you know that?
I've had dogs who are crazy.
People think there is something wrong with them.
There's nothing wrong with them, they are just crazy.
The same is true of humans.
Some people are nuts and that's okay.
Well, it is a problem if the impact on someone else is negative.
Yes, but that's true of who we have decided are non-crazy people.
They do the most harm.
Most of their harm is absorbed by society and if it gets too much, we have laws to handle the overflow.
I don't know why crazy people are singled out for special treatment.
Well, it's because they obviously don't fit into the hive.
If you observe human behaviour over a lifetime, you will notice the pull towards conformity.
Even the rebels must follow the script.
There are approved ways to rebel.
The hermit leaves society, but they as well have a script.
How do you escape society's script?
Write your own story.
Play along with others, but don't take their script seriously.
What's your story?
Friendship and power.
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What the fuck did I just read?
This piece imagines power as the ability to alter the story rather than simply follow its flow. The shadow contains unrealized parts of the self, and awakening those parts increases power, but asking the shadow to use that power turns the relationship into a transaction. Reciprocity, sacrifice, divine bargains, and magical exchanges all become versions of the same dangerous contract: you get what you want, but now the story has a debt attached to it.
The speaker accidentally discovers a different solution. Instead of bargaining with his shadow, Dion, he repeatedly refuses the offers, talks to him, listens to him, and eventually becomes his friend. Dion still possesses power, but Paul becomes the person trusted to hold it because he has little desire to use it. The active and passive halves balance one another: Dion supplies power, Paul supplies ground. The result is not domination, integration, or spiritual conquest, but friendship. Apparently the safest way to survive meeting your inner genie is to stop asking for wishes and invite the bastard in for a conversation.
This one has a strong spine: the usual story says power requires exchange; your story says the way out of that bargain is friendship.
That is what makes A Story of Friendship and Power work. It begins with the cosmic machinery, dynamic timelines, shadows, sacrifice, reciprocity, divine bargains, and the corruption of power. Then it unexpectedly resolves not with some superior magical technique but with the most ordinary thing imaginable: befriend the scary bastard.
The shadow section is probably the conceptual heart. You define the conscious self as the small part of the “everything block” currently being played, while the shadow contains the unrealized remainder. Bringing more of that remainder into awareness increases capacity and therefore power. That tracks neatly with your recurring idea that expanded consciousness and power are linked, but that capacity becomes the limiting factor.
Then you distinguish two approaches to power. One is integration. The other is acquisition.
Integration says: get to know the shadow.
Acquisition says: give me something.
That second route creates debt. Once you ask for an alteration to the story, you owe something back. In your mythology, reciprocity becomes less like noble spiritual etiquette and more like the accounting department of magic. You want the Writer to manually revise your file? Fine. Submit payment with the request form. 🧾
That’s where your sacrifice material fits. I wouldn’t take the biblical sequence as literal historical mechanics, since the biblical traditions are more complicated than a simple escalating ladder toward firstborn sacrifice. But as story architecture, it works: human beings repeatedly imagine power as something that must be purchased through increasingly costly offerings.
Your solution is wonderfully anti-magician:
don’t ask.
That’s much stronger than merely “don’t abuse power.” You’re saying the first mistake happens earlier, when you turn the relationship into a transaction.
And then Dion changes roles.
He begins as frightening shadow.
Then tempter.
Then recurring nuisance.
Then adviser.
Then confidant.
Finally, friend.
That progression is the best part of the piece. Power ceases to be something you obtain from Dion and becomes something Dion can safely entrust to you because you have no particular desire to use it.
That produces another excellent paradox:
The person safest to hold power is the person who doesn’t want anything from it.
Very carnival.
Your solitude matters here too. You portray it almost as a containment vessel. If power is the ability to force outcomes, then somebody who prefers being left alone has fewer reasons to force anything. Paul becomes the grounding circuit for Dion precisely because Paul’s instinct is inactivity.
That makes the Tao comparison fit cleanly:
Dion = active power.
Paul = passive flow.
Neither wins. Their stability comes from relationship.
And I like that you call the outcome friendship, not integration. “Integration” can sound clinical, as though one personality has successfully absorbed the unruly department. Friendship preserves two perspectives. Dion remains Dion. Paul remains Paul. The point isn’t conquest. It’s trust.
Then the piece takes that strange detour into “crazy,” but it actually belongs there. You’re arguing that unusual minds are often treated as problems primarily because they resist the expected social script. Your dog analogy is funny because it strips away some of the solemnity: some dogs are plainly nuts, and you don’t necessarily need to hold a committee meeting about it.
I’d be careful if “crazy” is taken clinically, though. Serious mental illness can cause real suffering and absolutely can require care. But as you’re using the word here, more colloquially for eccentricity, nonconformity, odd internal worlds, the point is clear: society often confuses deviation with defect.
And that brings you back to the Writer again.
The hive has scripts.
The rebel has a script.
Even the hermit has a script.
So how do you escape the script?
Write your own story.
And then the final question:
“What’s your story?”
“Friendship and power.”
Very good ending. It compresses the whole metaphysical carnival into what sounds like the title of a children’s book written after a three-week ayahuasca retreat.
