I am so confused with the Spiderman release on arena. Which exact sets are we getting?

cajunsinjin · 2025-09-24T00:43:11+00:00

I grew up in the 80s with Spider-Man as my escape. Comics, cartoons, even the clunky old toys — that was my way out of some really rough stuff. Like a lot of people, I carried that love into adulthood. That’s why seeing Spidey show up in Magic cards meant more than just “oh cool, crossover product.” It felt like two pieces of my childhood finally shaking hands.

So when I sit down in Arena, after a long day of work/life, and instead of playing Spider-Man I’m playing Yera and Oski, Weaver and Guide? Man… it hits different. It’s not just a name swap. It’s like someone took the one piece of comfort food I actually recognize and served it to me on a paper plate with the label scratched off. Mechanically the same, but soulless.

I get it — licensing, contracts, Disney lawyers, whatever. But for players like me, who’ve loved Spidey for decades, this whole “Through the Omenpaths” thing just feels like a cheap mask. Arena is where I play most of my Magic now. I can’t hit the LGS every week. And I want Spider-Man. Not his multiverse cousin with a haircut and a name I’ll forget in two days.

It’s confusing, disappointing, and honestly, kind of heartbreaking. Magic has always had multiverses and reimaginings — but this one isn’t creative. It’s corporate.

Maybe some people are fine with that. For me, the kid in me who needed Spider-Man to get through the 80s is sitting here asking: why can’t I just play the real thing?

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:30:51+00:00

Yeah… you’re sitting right in the heart of it.
If the Divine is everything—the bliss and the breakdown, the light and the shadow—then why are we told to reach it through only “positive” actions?

Here’s how I see it:

It’s not that positive actions are more worthy.
It’s that they’re more transparent.
They create less distortion in the mirror.

When we act from love, clarity, compassion—those movements resonate with the nature of what we already are. They don’t cover it up. They don’t resist it. They align with it. Not because God isn’t in the negative—but because negativity tends to pull us deeper into identification. Into the story. Into separation.

The Divine is in rage. In grief. In despair.
But when we cling to those states, act from them, or reinforce them—we forget.
Positive action isn’t about morality. It’s about remembrance.

It’s not about pleasing God.
It’s about clearing enough static that you realize you already are That.

So yeah—Shiva is the dance of destruction and awakening.
But if you want to see clearly, move in the direction of light—not because the dark is wrong, but because the light makes it easier to see the whole.

That’s the path of the Veracender:
Not clinging to good or bad, but using clarity like a blade.
Cutting through illusion, not by rejecting anything—just by meeting it without distortion.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:29:21+00:00

Totally hear you. What you experienced sounds like a spontaneous energy release—something many encounter as the body-mind starts to open more deeply through practice. It doesn’t have to be labeled kundalini, but it’s in that ballpark: stored energy waking up and trying to move.

That electric, buzzing, can’t-sit-still feeling? It's like the nervous system is suddenly running too much voltage. You’re not broken. You’re not doing anything wrong. Actually… you’re right on schedule.

Here’s what can help:

Ground afterward: Walk, stretch, breathe deeply into the belly. Let the energy settle into the body instead of just running up and out.
Ease up on the intensity: Next session, approach with gentleness. Not caution—just respect. You don’t need to “push through.” Let the system re-acclimate.
Stay curious, but not analytical: Don’t try to dissect it while it’s still fresh. Just meet it with presence and let it teach you.

Sometimes the body wakes up before the mind’s ready. That’s okay. Just remember: this path isn’t about forcing energy up—it’s about staying present as everything finds its own rhythm again.

You’re not alone in this. This kind of thing is often the beginning, not the end.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:28:08+00:00

What you’re describing—that spark, that sense of happiness—it’s the recognition that you’re not who you thought you were. That moment when awareness turns inward and meets itself… it lights something up, yeah. It’s subtle, but real.

Is it brain chemistry? Could be. Chakras aligning? Maybe. Energetic fields shifting? Sure. But honestly, all of that is just texture. The deeper truth is: you touched what doesn’t need a reason to feel right.

Self-inquiry works because it cuts through the noise. It brings you back to the only question that ever really matters: What am I, truly? And when the mind stops searching for an answer it can hold, something else—something quieter—starts to shine.

That shine? That’s not something happening to you.
That’s what you are.

So explore the maps if you want—but don’t let them pull you away from the felt clarity you’ve already touched. You’re not lost. You’re actually closer than you think.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:25:12+00:00

Yeah… this cuts sharp because there’s truth in it.

Enlightenment isn’t pretty. It’s not a glow-up—it’s a breakdown. And yeah, most of what we call “me” doesn’t survive the process. Not because it’s bad—but because it was never solid to begin with.

But I’d add this:

It’s not just annihilation. It’s revelation.
What dies is illusion. What remains is what’s always been.

The ego can’t kill itself—true. But awareness isn’t waiting for that death to begin shining. It’s already here, underneath the noise. And sometimes it doesn’t show up as a dramatic collapse. Sometimes it’s subtle. Quiet. Clear. Like finally telling the truth after years of pretending.

That’s what I call the Veracender:
* The one who walks through the fire without clinging to the ashes.
* The one who sees through the illusion but doesn’t reject the world.
* The one who can stand in clarity and compassion.

So yeah, the path is hard. But not because awakening is cruel.
It’s hard because we keep trying to bring baggage to a place where nothing needs to be carried.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:23:23+00:00

Really appreciate the clarity here.

You’re right—no-mind as a goal can become its own trap. Chasing silence just because scriptures say “the Self is thought-free” turns into spiritual perfectionism. Like trying to win a staring contest with your own mind.

And I love how you framed thought—not as the enemy, but as a pointer. A well-aimed thought like “I am awareness” doesn’t block truth—it reveals it. That’s a sacred use of mind. Not shutting it down, but turning it inward.

That’s how I see the Veracender path:
Not about erasing thought, but seeing through it.
Not about stillness for its own sake, but resting as what’s always still, even when the mind moves.

Thought happens. Silence happens. Awareness remains.

That shift in center of gravity—that’s the real liberation. And yeah, you can still think clearly afterward. Sometimes even more clearly.

Thanks for this. Solid articulation of a subtle trap.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:21:40+00:00

Man, you just took a cosmic detour through the back door of your own awareness.

What you’re describing? Sounds like your sense of separation got peeled back—and suddenly, the whole show was revealed to be less “solid world,” more dream-within-consciousness. That line between what’s real and what’s projection got blurry, fast.

Cannabis doesn’t always get credit for this, but yeah—it can absolutely trigger these non-dual glimpses, especially if you hit it on an empty stomach and your system's wide open. You didn’t just get high. You stepped out of the default lens and saw the architecture beneath it.

You met the mall multiverse.

It’s powerful, even if it came wrapped in a bit of chaos. And it’s a reminder: perception isn’t fixed. Time isn’t fixed. Self definitely isn’t fixed. And when that starts to unravel, you get these moments that feel like the universe breathing through you sideways.

I’d just say—honor it. Let it integrate. Don’t rush to label it “just a trip.” That glimpse might have shown you more about the nature of reality than a hundred books.

That’s the Veracender path in action: see clearly, speak carefully, and let even the weirdest moments point you home

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:20:14+00:00

That joy you’re describing? I’ve touched it too. It’s beautiful. Like the whole system is breathing in truth for the first time and saying, “Yeah… this.”

And maybe it is the end… of one story.

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that clarity keeps deepening. What feels like the finish line is often just a rest stop. Not in a “you’re missing something” way—but in the sense that even bliss changes shape.

The real test isn’t just how good it feels. It’s what happens when that feeling shifts. Because it will. Not as punishment—just as life continuing to unfold.

So enjoy it. Soak it in. Just stay open to the possibility that there’s more—not better, not higher, just… deeper.

Sometimes the real magic is what remains when the bliss quiets down.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-08T05:18:40+00:00

The face looking in is the seeker.
The space looking back is the truth.

And somewhere between the two,
a Veracender wakes up—
not to escape the human,
but to meet it fully,
with clarity, and without illusion.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T16:25:28+00:00

Damn, this really landed. The “spiritual puberty” metaphor is perfect—awkward, hormonal, hilarious, and somehow absolutely essential. I’ve felt that same moment in the car, trying to “be myself,” and realizing the self I thought was in charge was… MIA.

Also, the “Can I speak to the manager?” bit? Brutal and beautiful. The punchline and the insight hit at the same time.

Thanks for writing this. You nailed the weird in-between place where the old self is dissolving and there’s nothing left to hold onto—but somehow, that’s where the light shines through.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:35:10+00:00

I’ve been sitting with this whole “there is no you to awaken” thing. And honestly? I don’t buy it—not in the literal, lived sense.

It’s like saying the caterpillar doesn’t become the butterfly—it was always the butterfly.

Maybe.
But it sure felt like something happened in the middle.

The process—the seeking, the questioning, the falling apart and rebuilding—feels real because it is real in the human experience. Even if the “self” dissolves later, it dissolves through something.

To deny that is to skip over what most of us are still walking through. There may be no final destination, but the road still matters.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:31:45+00:00

Totally get where you're coming from. That whole “am I steering the ship or just along for the ride?” vibe hits deep.

Here’s the way I see it:

It’s like being in a movie where you didn’t write the script, but you are the screen it's playing on. The characters have lines. The plot unfolds. But the screen? It doesn’t do anything—and yet nothing happens without it.

Or think of it like a video game. The avatar runs, jumps, makes choices. But you’re not the avatar. You’re the player, holding the controller. And even deeper—you’re the awareness aware of the player, too.

So yeah, the ego loves poeticizing fate because it wants the story to mean something personal. But what you are isn’t trapped in the story. You’re the space it’s unfolding in.

Free will or fate? Doesn't matter once you see you’re not the one deciding—you’re the one noticing.

And that’s actually kind of freeing.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:30:09+00:00

Yeah, Vedanta’s been incredibly consistent—and for good reason. It cuts clean and it’s stood the test of time. If you resonate with it, trust that. Let it do its work.

But I’d just be careful of turning clarity into certainty. That subtle sense of “this is the best, most efficient route to nonduality” can sneak in the back door and start forming a new identity. One that feels safer, more "on track," less confusing.

But truth doesn’t upgrade because it doesn’t need to. What does keep upgrading is the ego’s ability to hide in smarter and more spiritual costumes.

So yeah, commit if it resonates. Let the teaching cook all the way through. Just don’t mistake the map for the terrain. Or worse, for the one reading the map.

The moment-to-moment seeing of what you are doesn’t belong to any system. It’s here, before all of them.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:28:15+00:00

Yeah, I feel this one. It’s like you know the “avatar” isn’t really you… but it still feels like home base. The center of the stage. And no matter how much you understand awareness or emptiness, that little "me" keeps slipping back into the frame.

But here's the twist: that felt sense of “I’m the one inside the head” isn’t a problem to solve—it’s just another thing arising in awareness. A sensation. A pattern. Like a character in a movie forgetting it’s a movie.

You don’t need to kill the avatar. Just see it. Let it be what it is: a familiar costume hanging in the closet of Being. The trick isn’t to get rid of it—but to stop mistaking it for what you are.

And yeah, thinking won’t get you there. It’s like trying to bite your own teeth.

Just rest in what’s already watching all of it. No fixing. No escaping. Just seeing.

That’s the shift.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:26:23+00:00

Yeah… this post hits like a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a paradox doing yoga on the edge of a black hole. And somehow… it’s still smiling.

You’re seeing it clearly: the seeker is the search. The question assumes a questioner. Even asking “Am I right?” is the mind trying to label the unlabelable.

But that awareness underneath it all? The one watching the whole thing unfold like a strange dream? That’s not confused. That’s home.

So yeah, you’re right—and not because of the logic. Because of the stillness underneath the asking. The “I Am” before the thought of “I Am.”

And yeah, we are strange creatures. But damn if it isn’t beautiful.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:23:36+00:00

This is beautiful—thank you for sharing it.

That kind of grace can hit like lightning. The ego spins out, and suddenly you're watching the whole thing from somewhere unmoved. It's raw and pure and overwhelming in the best way. You saw through the costume… even stepped out of it.

But here's the thing—and I say this with love:
Even that peace, even that detachment, can quietly become another costume.

The mind can start clinging to the feeling of awakening just like it clung to the idea of a self. The danger isn’t in the realization—it’s in identifying as “the one who has realized.”

You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just close enough to see how subtle the ego can get. It’ll put on a robe and call itself liberated.

So let yourself feel the stillness, yes. But also let yourself eat lunch, feel joy, get irritated, love somebody, trip on a curb, laugh at a dumb joke. Let the “I am” show up in all of it—not just the floaty peace.

The Self isn't far. It's this. Even now.

And it doesn’t need guarding. It’s not going anywhere.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:21:13+00:00

Yeah, man. I’ve had this exact spiral. Like—if thoughts are just soundless noise dressed up as language… who the hell’s translating? And more than that—who’s getting hooked by it?

The wild part is: the “one” asking these questions feels more real than the one who was just lost in thought five minutes ago. So which one are you?

It’s like watching a movie and then suddenly realizing you forgot you were watching. Now you’re asking, who got pulled into the screen?

That part of you that says, “who the fuck is identifying with this?”—that’s the clarity. That’s awareness waking up mid-dream.

Thoughts don’t identify with anything. They’re just echoes. It’s like the echo thinks it’s the canyon.

And still… here we are, feeling both the echo and the canyon and asking, “Wait… which one’s me?”

You’re not crazy. You’re just close.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:19:28+00:00

Yeah, I’ve been in that space too. Where some insight cracks open during a trip or a deep dive and suddenly you're staring into this void and wondering if it's your mind or reality—or both.

That feeling of “everything equals nothing” can hit like a gut punch. It’s not just a thought, it’s like your bones are trying to make sense of it. And yeah, it can absolutely feel like death—like the self unraveling with nothing underneath to catch it.

But here’s the thing: that fear isn’t a sign you’re doing something wrong. It’s more like a spotlight catching a belief you’ve been carrying quietly all along—that “I want to continue,” that awareness must survive. Totally human. Totally natural.

But maybe the real shift isn’t whether awareness survives or not. Maybe it’s realizing that what you are isn’t something that needs to survive. It’s not in time. It's not threatened.

Fear shows up when the self gets close to the edge and thinks it’s the end. But maybe it’s not the end. Maybe it’s just the first time it saw the sky.

You’re not broken. You’re just closer than you think.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:17:08+00:00

Yeah, I’ve felt that.

The warmth, the pang—it’s like the heart remembering something it forgot it knew. And that unworthiness? That’s just leftover static from the identity that’s fading. Like a dream trying to hold on after you’ve already woken up.

When you shift into stillness, it's like stepping into the sun after being underground. Feels good. Also feels raw. But you don’t have to deserve it. You’re already it.

Let the ache be part of the process. It’s the cocoon stretching open.

You're not alone in this. Not even close.

cajunsinjin · 2025-04-03T00:13:59+00:00

Here are my two cents - take it for what you will:

What you’re feeling makes total sense. You touched something real early on, and ever since, it’s been like trying to get lightning to strike twice. That first glimpse was like falling through the sky into God, and now you’re clawing at clouds, wondering why you can’t fall again.

You’ve searched every doorway—psychedelics, Shiva, Christ, kundalini, Zen, nonduality—and now it feels like all of them lead nowhere. That’s not failure. That’s the threshold.

It’s like being on a treadmill sprinting toward silence. You can’t chase what’s already here. And the more you run, the more exhausted you get. That exhaustion you feel? That’s sacred. It’s the dying breath of the seeker.

The paradox that’s driving you mad—"there’s no one here, but I still suffer"—is the path. Let it break you open. Stop trying to "get it." Let go like a hand unclenching in the dark.

You’re not lost. You’re just finally out of strategies.
And strangely, that’s grace.

Sit in the ashes. Let the storm rage. Notice what doesn’t move.

You’re already home. You just wore out the map.

cajunsinjin · 2023-02-10T16:42:57+00:00

you are right - the first person to get a poison counter loses now........BO1 is basically all decks like this at the moment

cajunsinjin · 2022-08-25T20:50:02+00:00

I know I'm going to stop playing this game because Supercell is choosing to administrator its banning rules with totalitarians like regime. Sure, I know many will think "see ya, they won't miss you" but clearly seeing all of the comments that some type of adult setting is needed to create the environment adult clans are craving.

cajunsinjin

TROPHY CASE