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ToYouWhoHaveEars
The Supreme Experience of the Pure Awareness Within the Absolute Being The Trumpets Sound Kahlil's Message to Superman. For all of Willie Lynched Man out there Fragments from the Secret Years of Kristos of Niagara Born April 23, 1976 Bull Dragon 33 Years Old !GONG! ---------------------------- I told a friend: "Boredom is just exhaustion or a missed opportunity for peace." Alan Watts passed this on: "Man's extremity is God's Opportunity." HE has certainly had quite an opportunity with me. The following is an account of that Opportunity. ---------------------------- I heard: "Enlightenment is like having one's hair on fire... It is like a mirror that reflects perfectly when it is wiped clean, leaving only its original clarity... It is like sailing into the wind... It is like the sun emerging from behind clouds... It is like everyday life just raised up two inches off the ground." Everywhere I heard "It is like, It is like, It is like." Everywhere wistfulness and nothing solid. It drove me mad that valley girls spoke this way, and the ultimate sages too! Can we only nod and wink at one another? I felt like Salieri before Mozart. So, after much reflection I will say: "It is like, It is like..." ...It is like third grade at the blackboard. Dino and Kristos are clearing the board. They are singing: "When you share a little bit of yourself, without even knowin, When you share a little bit of yourself, you find good feelings growin." ------------------------------------- Thomas Emerson said: "Speak to people from the highest level you can as to raise them up." Mom said: "Honey use your strength to lift people up rather than keep people down." After Enlightenment I told my girlfriend: "Honey, like Martin Luther King, I've been to the mountaintop and seen the cities of light. I'm not coming down off the mountain out of my ivory tower, but I'll raise you into the light." She said: "I'm not ready." I said: "OK." --------------------- I read: If a man's heart or mind truly be known by others, he would deserve hanging at least five times during his life. I also read: we are punished, only to the slightest degree, what our iniquity warrants. -------------------- Cipher- "So You've been sent to 'save the world.' What do you say to something like that?"Al Bundy- "Let's rock and roll." Q-When did the realization occur? A-Between 8 and 11pm on March 29, 2008. Probably at 8:08. But we have to go back. Q-To when? A-Only to that one question that is illustrative of what I've been up to lately. Q-And what's that question? Q/A-How do I build society without channeling desire through greed and terror? A-Bring on the Enlightenment. Require the rite and acquire the right. Q-Has the tyrants throne still not been cast down?... "Tho' this be madness there is method in 't." "The fool persistent in his folly becomes wise." "The wise man knows himself to be a fool." "If one is driven by passion let reason hold the reigns." "If after these winds such peace arises, then let the mighty tempests blow as to upturn the world." Sometimes I float off, as if in a reverie, other times the rock of the earth holds me fast. I've parted the red sea, walked on water and know myself to be of the nature of the light. I've noticed a shameless proclivity for neologism in my writings. The depth of the echo is dependent upon the well and not the note. I used to want to 'talk in poetry' and sometimes it happens when I write. *A great Canadian named Gord once said: "No one's interested in something ya didn't do." This is what was done. -------------------------------------------- The Inner Workings of a Future Saint -------------------------------------------- A good friend once said: "Every sinner has a future, every saint a past." I know it is out of fashion to speak in such terms but there it is. Nietzsche said that the whole purpose for the existence of humanity is to produce 6 or 7 great men. From what I've seen, so near the 'transhuman frontier' I can almost hear the hive mother calling, it is tempting to believe that I am at least '5,' and I feverishly hope... not '6'(But if it is, then great, stick near me and you'll see HIM, that's for sure), but I may indeed be '7' in the flesh, so ya better listen now for you will surely hear me later!] Nietzsche also wrote 'The Anti-Christ', and said "God is Dead." But I'll bet, that between the time, -on that great day, on those sunny Alp Hills- when he witnessed the magnificent glory of the 'Eternal Recurrence', and that terrible day, when that great man fell before the horse-whipper... in that time he would not have said "God is Dead." Of this much, I am sure now. It is of the deepest desire of my soul, my most earnest wish, that what you read on this page should move you 1000 lifetimes closer to YOUR enlightenment so that you be not of the 'left-behind' or howshould I say...'the dead' , the 'chaff', et al. It is also my sincerest wish that, what you glean from these page, stokes a fire in your soul that drives you to the mountain top, to the 'serene lake of glass, beyond fields of green, into a swift sunrise.' Indeed, this page SHOULD move you 1000 more lifetimes closer to YOUR enlightenment. I would find the demon pride-within me, the likes that Nietzsche saw in 'the Prince arrayed in his regalia.' Truly have I seen Shiva's snakes. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As a boy, mom said to me: "Don't worry about having things, focus on having experiences." Later, there was the realization that I didn't need to buy things to feel the pleasure of having them. I knew that the thrill of getting was better than having. I would later learn about being as distinct from having. But in the mean time, I learned to bring within myself the contentment of having, and this 'bringing into having' would bring with it the pleasure of getting also. So without spending a dime, I could milk the whole experience of getting, having, losing, and moving on. Little did I know that this was a version of 'awakening into unity with the unmanifested state.' I was awakening to pure awareness, and my heart expanding into the Divine. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Fourth grade in the hall "Hey! Tanya isn't a 'browner', she's not a suck up. She's just really smart. We shouldn't MAKE FUN of her for being smart." A first whetting of the sword of discernment on the rock of experience. A small boys Eureka. *Summer Camp. As a child, I go to Camp Onondaga, up north, in a secluded forest, with a couple hundred other 10-12 year olds. The place is great. People on TV go here. Amazing. I can't wait for the 'Flying Fox' Zip-line. I go to my cabin with my teddy bear. I'm ten, yikes. Everybody else is 12. Not many 'teddys.' This was the first time I was 'up against it.' It wasn't long before I was receiving beatings and ridicule. There was another boy Ron 'The Rescuer.' He was a 12 year old 'black guy'-a term which has been disabused of joinder with the 'guy' word and since replaced with 'brother'. He saved me all the time. He would throw himself bodily onto me to receive the beatings on his own back. I was grateful beyond belief. I was also lonelier than I'd ever been. We chose what to do each day by hanging a few keytags on keyrings denoting which activity we were to take part in. Every day the big guys would muscle in: water skiing, windsurfing, canoeing, kayaking, and most important of all, The Flying Fox. There would be baking, crafts, swimming and last of all, ecology(nature walks) left over as remnants. I moved into a simple groove. Ecology: morning to night. I remember a lot about the two weeks I would spend up here, but the tale this opening salvo leads into, will bear only two stories from this time: 1)'The Snake' and, 2)'The Flying Fox and Mary.' I've added this opening event after writing the rest because, as one fills in the blanks, it came to me as one of those synchronistic things. Things that makes one think "Hey, wait! Could that...really....have been...?..." *The Snake I loved snakes. I loved all sorts of critters and would save many a fortunate worm from the sidewalks in my area. Snakes were cool. Caught lots of em at a local park and even one that would have won The Guiness, but that's another story. I Didn't torment people with snakes because I thought that was mean. At camp, I had been wandering around the forest all day and the sun was setting. Campers were milling about, dinner time. I'm with a water snake. I found him floating near the shore. He's very close to death. I pick him up and wade out into the water with him. I'm in chest deep, small waves, so I turn to shield him from the waves. I'm very upset that he's dying. He's a little more alive, probably from being scared and so weak. I try to hold him up but he starts to turn on his side. I gently 'right' him. He 's floating. He makes a little dart and then on his side again. I hold him back up real gentle, my hands a tube for him. He looks at me and forks out his tongue one little flicker and then takes off swimming like crazy for about fifty feet. I'm astonished. I think as he slows: "Oh no! That's it!" and he keeps on swimming. Left and right. When I think he's going to slow down he picks up again swimming further and further into the lake. I watch him a few minutes but it's dinner and I have to eat. I leave, look back one time and he's still going.... *The Flying Fox and Mary The day had finally come. I was at the front of the line of the activity selection, and I put the keytag on the Flying Fox keyring, and it was my turn. I got up on the platform, thirty feet above the ground overlooking a fifty foot drop. The Zip-Line. I couldn't do it. Knees a knockin'. It would be years later, at 'Rick's Cafe,' where I 'took the leap' and overcame this fear of heights. Back at Camp Onondoga, nobody said much, as I climbed down from the platform, and walked by, burning with shame. I think the boys, as much as they enjoyed my suffering, could see not to mess at this moment. A girl I had never seen before came to me and took my hand. Mary. She said she was 12! She said she was French and Mexican. She said she was scared to jump too. "They call me the Mexican Chi-can! Buck! Buck! BOCK!" and flapped her wings. One gram of the weight on my shoulders came off. She walked me to my cabin and led me to the door. She opened the door, turned, and kissed me on the cheek. I was in awe. When Mary left, I said to myself "I will live my life so I NEVER feel regret again," with a heavy accent on the 'FEEL' part as well. This was my second mantra. My first was: "I don't care."(Stubborn little bull) And my third was: "It's all in your head." She didn't work there, but it was unclear if she was a camper or someone else. She would appear a couple more times and chat. One time she even kissed me on the lips. I don't know how she could have been around all these times because each time, I was 'off by myself,' and everyone had things to do. I would be way around the other side of the lake hidden in a forest and she would find me. I would walk past the cabins over the hills yonder and there she would be. I shouldn't have been there but she shouldn't have either. She would only come around when I was really down and when she did show, her golden brown curls would be a source of amazing wonder. I needed her a lot and there she would be... *Silver Light. As a young boy, I noticed that there were these jelly-fish-like things I could see on my eyes. Later they would look like molecule chains or a piece of DNA. I kept trying to 'balance' them in the centre of my vision but to no avail. With lots of practise I could 'get under' them and keep them just above my centre of focus, but they would always 'slide off' to the left or right. I practised flicking my eyes to 'juggle' them back up, always wanting to get them to stop in place. I also noticed that when I was sleepy, sometimes there looked to be light rays coming from candles or lightbulbs. I would try to draw these rays closer and after years of trying, I could sometimes get them to sit on my eyelashes. It would be at age 30 that I would notice one clear, moonless winter night, rays from a street light were filtering through the pine needles and the silvery-blue fingers would draw so close to my eye that I thought the rays might reach right into me. *The 800 The seventh grade track meet. It's the afternoon and all of my events save for the 100m final have already taken place. Me and a friend are sitting on the bleachers, under a tree, chatting away. I see that the racers for the 800m are accumulating around the starting line. My friend is harassing me to go and race and the gym teacher is shouting in no specific direction: "KUHN! Where are YOU?" My friend turned me in and the gym teacher promises me that he would personally do unspeakable things to me if I didn't get to the line and run the race. I couldn't care less about 'distance running' as I only liked the sprints. He couldn't care less what I liked and wanted to see a good race. I had only once run the 800, though I was in shape from all around athletics. The runner who was going to win the 3000, and the 1500 was going to race me- the runner who was going to win the 100 and the 200. Under the blistering scorn of my gym teacher I ran from the other end of the track, dragged myself to the starting line with all the rest of the runners, and was received by they and their parents with groaning. I had all of about a second to size up the competition, and no time to catch my breath, and the starting gun went off. Everybody was off and I was standing still. I quickly raced up to the front of the field and eased in beside the opponent. Pretty quickly it was just him and I. At 400 metres my heart was pounding hard but I knew there was only about a minute left. At 500 metres he picked it up and I was right with him. At 600 metres he picked it up a little more and I was right with him. A quarter way into the bend before the final stretch, he started pouring it on. He was pulling away. I saw the vigour with which he was pulling away and I looked back and saw that this would be an easy silver medal. Then a funny thing happened at 150 metres. Just as I was half way around the half circle, a slight smile crossed my face and I felt content that I was going to win silver without breaking a sweat. But, my friend on the bleachers, my only fan besides my parents, just happened to come into view as the smile was spreading. I saw the seriousness in her eyes as she cupped her hands and shouted with gusto: "COME ON KRIS!!!" and something just kicked in. Her wish to see me win became my will to win. For a moment, my body became unclutched and a new clutch was put in. It didn't break my stride, but my heart hit red line for a brief instant. I took off. Inside me, for the first few paces I was somewhat held back(I didn't want to finish with a flurry and lose- He had 110 to go and I had 145) but when I came out of the turn, the 'holding back' was released, and I felt pure running. I was loosed from the cannon. There was nothing but swift air. I had never before heard still air whistle past my ears. The whistling became a further challenge: to even out the tone by flattening out the run. To make the air whine. (Accelerating was like improving in meditation, the faster I went, the less 'I' there was.) He seemed a long way down the track as I crossed the 100m line, but there was the tiniest wisp of hope remaining. He was an experienced enough runner to run all the way through the finish line. I was on the end of a rocket and wasn't sure if anything was going to slow me down. At fifteen metres to go I thought I was closing just fast enough to overtake him and when we crossed the finish line, I was 10 metres past the line by the time he was 5 and this confused everyone. There were a handful of parent volunteers who were all scratching their heads. They thought that they would clear up the confusion by crowding around me on the track, but there were only two racers who had finished and a bunch more to come. There were protests and counterprotests, each volunteer pointing to their stopwatch, insisting that they could name the winner. I wanted to be named the winner, but in reality, I had attained such a high speed that this was a very big personal victory, bigger than winning the gold. Never had I felt such satisfaction on the basketball court or the soccer pitch. The gym teacher approached me. He told me they were sure that if the race was 801 metres that I was the clear winner, but they couldn't be sure I won the race. He thought that we tied and asked me in a browbeating sort of way 'what I thought should be done' as they didn't have two first place ribbons. I had my fair share of first place finishes in and off the track that day and he indicated that this was an important race for the other runner to win and that my conceding the victory would be a gracious thing to do. Since this part of the story is about speed and not grace, I can say that I was upset that I was in this predicament because it was that very gym teacher who practically forced me to race in the first place and if he had just let me sit it out, we wouldn't be in this pickle. In the end, I got the blue ribbon, and he the red. ***In high school I was 'the jock' par excellence, minus the stupid-bully part. Student council VP(Just wanted control of the prom for the lady), soccer, football, basketball captain, MVP, Most likely to be Prime Minister, Valedictorian, invitations to play football all over, a few soccer invites, and a super model girlfriend. Friend and protector of everyone. The works. I go after University rather than pro soccer. First year university at McMaster. Football. At initiation, my Steven Seagal hair gets turned into Warf the Cling-On and Sampson flees inward. I am to be defensive rookie of the year, going to be All Canadian by second year and pro by third. But I walk away. Fear not the quick diversion into math, ahead. Believe me when I say "I am no mathematician, in the regular sense of the word"....... **This bears inclusion for it helps to illustrate the bull-headed jailer that had a hold of me. And who had changed my beautiful 'columns'(more about them later) into prison bars, before the necessity for liberation became witnessed as illusory. I had a prof in first year say: "Most of you are in here because you have to be. A few are here because they want to, and a couple idiots failed calculus in high school and are trying to prove something to themself or someone else." I was the third. "If you are a member of the third group, pack up and get out." I stayed. I did double duty, going to all the classes and seminars of both calculus classes to 'get the gist.' I did well, due to the good fortune of meeting a friendly, patient and outrageously brilliant tutor. I would come to see the 'deviations and partial deviations' of the calculus as being like a 'catcher's mitt' for understanding the multi-channels of the 'heavenly spheres.' Now that is a mouthful and a mindful. So I'll stretch it out a bit. I failed calculus in high school with a mark of 48%. This was a conundrum, as holding me back meant, stopping The Valedictorian and Athlete of the Year from going away to school to play ball. I got away, and took basic level calculus. I had to do it. There was something to it. Maybe the equations looked like music. Taking this basic calculus, with the aid of an 'otherworldly-class' tutor and a determination to 'get it,' I flew through basic and into First Year Calculus. This tutor of mine had a wide bookshelf, full of classic works starting from thousands of years ago. I asked him if he had read them all. He said that he bought them with his scholarship money and was upset because he had finished reading and re-reading them in July and was bored through August! I wouldn't go much further in math classes, but after sitting with so many ridiculously intelligent people, reading all the math for the general public and all the stuff I could wrap my mind around at the engineering libraries, I would intuit all sorts of- pardon the pun Elmer Fudd- 'Quasi-methods' to just sort of 'get' what was being described. My sight seemed to encroach into the abstract. I could see in: transformation, set theory, and geometry, and later in a book about heterodox consciousness, and sub-personalities, I could see little 'magnets' to help me 'get it.' Magnets like my first LEGO set, pieces to assemble the big picture. It occurred to me "maybe there's not just 6 senses maybe there's way more and that's why they say the kingdom of heaven is within. Maybe the monks are so happy and wise because they have so many internal channels. Maybe they have more crayons in the crayon box and the whole trick of life is just not looking in the wrong direction." These 'little magnets,' abstract and 'formless' as they were, began to take on shape by way of things later described as 'columns' that are a recurring thematic element throughout the narrative. I would see in non-linear dynamics and non-linear logic many more 'magnets' that would help to put it together. Unfortunately, the frontiers of abstraction don't sit neatly on the page. I was open-minded enough to consider the ancient art of astrology and was even more fortunate to meet a real polymath, a genuine wise man whose deep sonorous voice would keep me riveted for hours, weeks and years. I was a prostitute for knowledge. I gave him my attention and he gave me knowledge that would help show me the outline of the 'columns' construct. It seemed that there was something to Akkadia, Sumeria, Ancient Egypt and astrology. Some bottleneck in time where all the clues to the past, the stars and the world of man seemed to pass through. Astrology seemed to be able to plumb the mind. I wanted to know how to plumb the mind. I heard of Rasputin and knew Reagan was into it, and I knew the ladies in the lodge were on a wavelength like this. I read all the girlie mags like Cosmo, Chatelaine, YM, Teen, and every other magazine that girls I knew were reading so I could know them better. My sister took tap and jazz dance lessons. At a recital I saw a whole bunch of greenclad super hot girls dancing with one slick dude. At the end, they lifted him up and carried him off stage, feeding him grapes. I wanted to be like that. I kept track of the moon cycle. The proximity to the woman's lodge would allow an intuitive awareness to develop from when I was little. I was 2 years old and didn't want to feel anymore. In a house full of women this would sharpen my emotional intelligence to the level where I could see Ramana within, and say, "there is no blade.") This will spin into the abstract. This is intended as another log for the raft on the dark sea. Not exactly a clear idea at this point, but it will be clearer soon. In astrology I am shown that charts, houses, and signs are the elements of a proto-psychological model like in Ancient Greek philosophy, that would become more apparent when reading tarot cards and I ching. This would eventually spiral up into a collision between the major arcana of the tarot and the Kabalistic Tree of Life. It was 22 vs 12 and the dawning of numerology. (It would take a long time to see it but the intersection of the 12 columns with the 22 of the Kabbalah and the Tarot, were like Mayan time wheels, roulette wheels spinning the film of the archetypal powers through the camera of the <I>. But unfortunately that is a little too out there for some, so just 'Hang On.' *Warning* Some may want to skip over this paragraph down to the '*<?What was that?>' moniker, six paragraphs below. Swimming further out into the deep end- It was frustrating to see the high level abstraction would want to fly up and away at the merest hint of any distraction. It was like The Lord of the Rings, when Gandalf has to warn everyone about the birds, because the 'minions of Saruman are everywhere.' I found that when holding on to something in the mind, a distraction would dislodge it from my grasp. If I flailed about grasping, this grasping would itelf be the 'snake on the flower', the distracting thought keeping it out of reach, preventing the return. I learned how to hold onto an 'object' by expanding concentration. I learned to 'have faith' and 'let go' of ideas when they were dislodged, realizing that this 'not flailing about' would calm the water and when the distraction was done the other idea would float back up. I learned how to abide patiently with distractions and learned about really subtle attachment to the formless, forms. This discipline of learning to let go and abide, would open up more parallel channels in the mind. To let me see wider. Eventually mental juggling would become simpler. With the increase of patience the bobbing of the ideas would stretch out over longer time lines. It was as if I was the nucleus and the five electron shells would each have something to say in the cacophany. With patience, came meditation. With meditation came focus. With focus, discipline moved in and clarity would come. With patience, meditation, clear-focused discipline, these electron shells would go mostly dark and 'bleed into' the column framework. The electron shell construct had a flattish plane to it. I would move this electron shell platform into each chakra to widen the field of view. (I would later see light come from a bulb that was emitting from a point like rays from the sun. I blinked and the light from the bulb became became concentric rings.) Some chakras had 'too many' electron shells so I would use a wheel apparatus which was akin to 'hollow columns.' I would use these electron rings as the 'rotating time machine rings' touched on later when hopscotching inward in the recession and expansion inside. The planar nature of the electrons, the vertical orientation of the 'columns' added with the sacred geometry chakra forms, the three linghams, and the pyramids found everywhere in the subtle body system... this would form a potent elixir in the heartmind-body cauldron. Now that last flurry was a bit too much. I found that all these constructs had to be tied down like Swift's Lilliputians. Eventually the concept of samskara, of a notion of experience silting into the muscular memory, would lead me up to the Gordian knot. A place where colours and feelings, and memories, and my personal history would dissolve into the clear light of 'Dick's Valis' and pull everything together. *<?What was that?> I felt like the dude in Evil Dead who finds Necronomicon, opens it and gets sucked in. Numerology was a quick slide to neurotic obsession for me, so I shelved it. Nana, as wise a woman anyone would ever need to know, knew a 'white witch' who had funny abilities. She would clearly see transcendental objects above people that would reveal amazing things about them. She freaked out everyone who met her. I could see the planet-beads on their orbit-strings moving in perpetuity, smoothly and to this image I could see the link to a symbolic language. And now with astrology, I seemed to have a way to look at the spheres orbiting inside me, and there find the tracks and cracks that needed to be repaired. I was a musical scale with 8 bars, and sometimes more. In time, a pool of equations from the great math sea, would accumulate in one of the 'columns,' a rather abstract notion that develops as we move along. And before we move along, it bears mentioning that other abstract notions will be added, in an effort to share glimpses, further and further into inner space, to illustrate some of the possibilities in life that may be limiting your free will. I could do really well, and go really far when I knew which way I was going. *One night, two guys, two girls and I, are going out for a couple drinks and some dancing. We are walking 200 feet from the car in the student car park. My two buddies want the front seat. They bolt. I was pretty fast. I ran the 40 in 4.6, out of shape, on grass and with no training. When I see my buddies bolt my reflex was to 'GO!' For the slightest moment, my body disengages... ("What are you doing buddy? You gonna beat them. Ooh. Mr. Fast guy gonna outrace your friends for the front seat. Ooh.").... My body re-engages. I take off. A projectile. In a couple improbably long steps I am outfront and gone. I am moving so fast I'm not sure if my feet are touching the ground. I am a rocket. I'm moving like I did that day I gathered too much speed going down that sandhill and tumblewheeled and inhaled a lung-full of sand. But instead I'm big now and my body can keep me out front. I'm running like I did the night a bottle rocket went off under that guys car and he was chasing me, and I was beyond "RUNNING FOR MY LIFE." There are a handful of these experiences outside 'horizontal' terminal velocity. The zero G zone. I am outfront of myself, approaching the car. I slow down to let my body catch up, and stop like a cat in only a couple steps. My friends arrive, look at me silently, then look at each other and start to laugh. *I mention here the first of a couple war stories, tales about the use of 'drugs.' If those little hairs on the back of your neck stand up, just remember, I sit her scratching a scab in the middle of my left palm thinking about how to make it easier for you. To me it is akin to apostasy, as an important man on the path would be very hurt by this confession but in light of the rest I feel certain that he will be OK with this. (*Besides that, part of the quest had to do with verifying whether spiritual experience was a distinct entity from drug intoxication.) My inner heart says "It's not just a plant (Read laMettries 'Man an Animal, Man a Plant', 'Leaves of Grass,' and 'Seven Clues to the Origin of Life,' maybe Jack Herer's book and think about 'Prana' or 'The Holy Spirit' and 'get it.' Maybe read about Jury Nullification while you're at it. And even 'The King Calls Us To Arms' will get you closer to the mountain top.) The thing about drugs is that they can show you how to get unwound, but it's harder to get wound up again. Or they can wind you up in which case it is hard to wind down again. Some drugs even show you that it isn't worth getting wound up or down. Just be. They can poke holes in the sky, but often when those holes are covered back over, well even the Lord Saviour can get a little rattled. That said I will further draw out my position at this time. Swami said about an incarnation of Shiva who walks around naked in the hills of India and smokes ganja constantly but eats not a bite nor drinks a drop, Nithyananda said of this man to his disciples: "If you want to do as he does, then do as he does." I had a friend that was a little slicker than me and could get all the hotties easier. He talked as slow as a drunk Texan and I talked faster than Kennedy. I thought that 'if I smoke weed it will allow me to relax more, slow down and keep the girls attention on me longer. He would say 5 words in the time I'd say 50, and there's only so much to say. A funny thing. I smoked weed for six months straight, three to four days a week when I was 16 or 17 and didn't 'get high' once. I'm no Bill Clinton, I had a bong collection to make the dudes on Half Baked blush. I inhaled and inhaled and inhaled. BT's and bongloads of bud, and never felt a thing. Tried to grow it and mom put a quick stop to that. I just figured that all the athletics had accustomed me to adrenaline, and I figured I just operated at a baseline level that was out of reach of the effect of cannabis. It wouldn't be until the supermodel gave me some Jamaican red-hair lemon lamb skunk haze breath or something like that, that I would find myself so disoriented that I needed to be in more than one place at the same time to figure out what was going on. After the encounter with Emery's personal devastator weed I went home. Mom took one look (whiff, I imagine) at me, and asked if the being hiding behind the two red marbles was 'stoned.' I thought 'Ridiculous! She can't know.' After all I had used eye drops and cologne. "No, of course not." This was after the breach, I had already touched another woman's breast and things would never be the same again. After the Bob Marley redhair spliffathon, I sat down and found myself engrossed in C-Pac, Canada's political affairs channel, unable to divert my attention from the incredible, never-ending bologna banter. I liked Farley Mowat, after this. By no means for a minute do I advocate all that I've done for all, but I am compelled to admit that all drug experiences are not bad. Point of fact: 'Drug experiences' merely mimic natural experiences and indeed 'drugs' are pretty natural. Further point of fact: everyone agrees with this but the lowliest slime and the highest boors. I'm not one to throw tootsie rolls in the sandbox but anyone who doesn't agree with this scares me way worse than those who agree. No weed smoking teenagers have ever kicked down the door of my castle looking for a bag of chips. The thing is, the body system gets lazy when it relies on things outside of it. Breathing machines, walkers and wheelchairs, glasses, calculators, daytimers, watches, chairs that promote slouching, and drugs- all bring about systemic atrophy and branches on the Bonsai Tree of Life grow awry. Let's give the Lizard King a chance here. I certainly loved him when I read Huxley and Blake, and definitely loved the suggestion to 'go on a long trip wandering through the doors of perception into the unconscious.' Indeed. When I first saw Val Kilmer in The Doors, though stone sober, I was gone way past the 'first jnana' just watching. General Kurtz was the man. A medium strength trance. My buddy's dad Alek is carved out of marble. You see the statue of David when you look at him. A model some classic sculptor would die for. He's like Dennis Hopper at the surfing beach in Apocalypse Now. He tells me about using mountains for target practise in the military over in Europe. I liked Generals because they embodied virtue. I was called 'The General' by my soccer mates for awhile. I felt a deeper connection to this as grandma Eve's cousin was General Patton, WW2 big-timer. I like General George Washington, and was especially impressed with the fact that he would thumb his nose at those who would make him king and would later only become president at the behest of 'the nation.' I was also very interested to learn later that GW was a close relative to me(even in the traditional sense) and through him, I'm connected to 'The Illuminati' and I may even go all the way back to Jesus and Pharaoh if some of those stories are correct. Grandpa gives me an onyx ring and I hear the black stone means looking within for answers and has something to do with Masons: the builders. 'I' might have arrived on a Moldavite asteroid. Papa was a Shriner and I was interested in Secret Societies and the like. I ate a weed brownie once that had a lot of weed and leaves in it. I was a fool at this time in my life, maybe less then than now, but a fool nonetheless. I feel that I must not be too harsh on those things that the shamen have shown us. We owe them as much as the priests, if not more. After all they are the ones who 'swam out first.' This brownie didn't seem to do much at first. I just felt 'a little lighter than normal.' I decided to go out and I drove up to a stop sign at the end of my street. Yoko was with me. Now, I had noticed when walking to the car that I wasn't sure if I had my sea legs yet. ****I'm at the stop sign. John said: "Life's what happens when you're busy making other plans." Then I'm around the corner, talking away to Yoko, when my eyes snap straight forward ahead and I am back at the stop sign. I look at her, she doesn't see anything. I look back ahead and I am back around the corner talking to her again with the overarching realization that I had just experienced a double quantum-oscillation of sorts. I was in two places at once. Actually 4! Stop sign, around corner 1, stop sign2, around corner 2 with the awareness of ALL 4 above. This was a 'squared-pyramid' awareness space. The top of the tetrahedron! It was a pyramid with time strings in four places dipping down into one fluid space in my mind's eye. It was 'enneagrammatic.' This space would be helpful constructing 'the loom' later. There was no doubt. A black out? No. Three chunks of time removed from one stretch of space and the semi-simultaneous presence in four places{at the sign, around the corner, at the sign and around the corner again}! I was fortunate to be 'conceptually acquainted' with partial deviations in calculus. This experience would drive me in the 'non-linear' direction in the math sea, a further bifurcation on the Path of The Guerilla Intellect. I would find out about partial- and sub-personalities and multiple intelligence modes. But it wasn't exactly over. The consciousness kept accordian-ing through time and space as I drove, down the uprising street, pulled and pushed by and through a tractor beam of sorts, a time tunnel! This was a near-numinosity! from the lowly green!! I was smoking weed like a Rastaferian teen or a Coptic Christian at this point in my life and wanted to 'overgrow the government.' I wanted to be 'Johnny AppleWeed.' I wanted to be Marc Emery's Shield, Jack Herer's Sword, Walter Tucker's High Priest. I would boast "Just let 'em try and get me. The day I'm in court on weed charges is the day the Jury Nullification and the William Pitt secret weapon will be deployed in the monster fillibuster and I'm free, precedent set. Drug War match point ACED. Even the poor sap who arrests me will lose his job, and I might arrest the pesky judge myself. Let's go to the stationhouse now and start tacking and entrap those punkers." Uncle Jesse had to be free. Around then, I tried to rope up people in my new political party to: "volunteer to serve a month of David Lattimer's jail time to get the poor guy out. There's some old law somewhere that let's people or citizens or whatever the chattel are called these days, to serve each other's time." I was the only sign up... Rant pardoned. Suffice it to say, I was not a newbie with rebellion OR Mary J. I was aware of Burke's or Spencer's treatise on 'Reformation and Revolution.' But this pyramidal brownie experience was way outside the realm of what the green usually has to offer. Yoko, herself no greenhorn tacker, would later be reduced to head in hands crying from the heavy delirium of the two hour buzz. I had also done rather extensive semi-legitimate 'experimenting' with psilocybin. I had read about Tesla, a famous inventor who built the AC/DC generator at the Sir Adam Beck power plant in my hometown. He could visualize the elementary mechanisms of machinery, assemble the mechanisms, and 'run' the machine to see how it worked. He would do '4D drawing board' editing in his head! Tesla had a mind with very high level visualization capacity and I thought that my acute visual field, imagination, focused determination, study and mushrooms would help me expand my mind's eye like Tesla. In high school, coach would make us spend five minutes at the end of practise, visualizing foul shots. I found that when I visualized with a lot of effort and then started shooting, I was good. Tesla was a good man who gave up a contract that would be worth billions of dollars just so he could continue his research. I did the same-even my prized manuscript, a fat book itself, would be threatened by the conflagration. Unlike that elephant-frying freak Edison with his tyrannical DC generator, Tesla was a prophet of give and take with his AC/DC technology. He tried to give the world free energy and ended up living in an apartment with pidgeons. A man the stature of Pythagoras reduced to abject poverty on his path. I wonder what happens to me when I give the halo, wings and light-body technology to the salt of the world? I wasn't yet aware of the Panopticon. Mushrooms again- I found that I could detect visual improvement at .2 grams and a mild catch on .4 when taken DAILY! This experiment would not go on long for reasons anyone familiar with Smurf village can describe for you. I would later 'pay the price' for being such a 'shroom prude.' My girl would suggest we 'split' 7 grams and catch a movie at the Drive-In. I saw the sky fall in the most beautiful way that night. --------------------------------------------------------------- Back to McMaster. Marks are 80%. The football season ends. I am drug free at University. I know that I don't want to play anymore. It was homecoming weekend (commencement). I went home to deliver the Valedictory address, and afterwards spent all night drinking myself into oblivion one last time with the high school buddies. Didn't get to bed until 4 a.m. and I had to be in Hamilton for the team breakfast at 9 a.m. I still stunk like booze at the breakfast. We had a poor season and this was going to be the last game of the year. I was a safety, a corner back, a defensive player who has to stop the receiver. The position of the gambit player. My guy was a 6'5 brother who had 'ups' to spare and was the fastest guy in the league. I had to cover him, it was one of the last of the insufferably hot and humid fall afternoons and I was deathly hung over. To my shock I had the best game of my life and even intercepted a pass straight out of his hands. That night I went back to my dorm and partied with a whole bunch of friends and my visiting girlfriend. We turned in for the night. There was a giant poster on my wall of Eddie Vedder on stage leaning back on his heels against Stone or Jeff. He's straight but leaning back a long way with an anguished look on his face. Pearl Jam's Ten album was a fave and it was playing as we drifted off. About an hour later I realized I was awake and the song 'Release Me' was repeating again and again. I lay there still, listening to the song. I felt very warm, as she was snuggled up to me siphoning off from the heat sink that is my body. I felt a feeling of bliss start to 'wash' over me. 'I' was swept away. I opened the window to let in the cold winter air. Wearing only shorts I walked out of my dorm. I walked past the front desk people and vaguely remember them calling to me. As a football player you could get away with walking around in your underwear, but I wasn't trying to 'get away' with anything. A feeling had me in its grips and it was irresistible. I don't know where I was going I just walked out into the snow and stood staring into the clear night sky. Later I would find out about Socrates' 24 hour samadhi-athon and would connect therewith. I was familiar with insight and epiphany, a devotee of delight, but this bliss feeling was as profound an experience as could be imagined by me, at the time. Lightyears beyond incredible sex. Truly I could have fallen... on... my... knees..... in the snow. Fifteen minutes of silver numinosity. Never had I encountered such a thing of marvelous wonder, not even fair Juliet. It was like a sky sized portal was pulling me up into a tangible blue-back sky rushing away, a stationary transpersonal vertigo. The whole sky sat on the surface of my eye, and everything under it was contained within me. You will see more and more as things get abstract, non-linear, metaphorical and outright visionary that the author resorts to 'chunking of words.' Runon sentences are acceptable in certain situations and the running together of words does mirror a running together of ideas. However in non-linear reality there are things that linear reality cannot process. That fall I would switch to Brock University and return to my native soil on the soccer pitch. They came in 2nd in the National showdown the year before and I wanted the cup like nothing else since the second place finish in The Ontario Cup at 15 left me a very bitter loser. Girlfriend had become fiancee before she left for college. This was my 'starcross'd lover.' Truly an affair of destiny, the likes of which would force the most ardent skeptic to confess the existence of magic. The previous summer we had split. I cried like crazy for an hour in front of her. My fair Juliet. The intensity of the wailing, like my baby hernia screaming, that would make my father want to smother me, at six months of age, to death. I left and drove home through the rain, on that cloudless July night. Dad was up. Oh No. He can't see me. I can't cry in front of him. Relax. I walk in, he looks in my eyes and says: "Ah come ere buddy," and I am lost in his arms. He holds me sobbing for a couple minutes until the first waves break. He takes me into his office. Then he sits me down and looks deep from his heart, through the sea of tears that were yet to come. He tells me: "Son. There are two things that really matter in a man's life. The Path, and who you're going to take with you on it." (For years I think it is about which woman I'm going to take on the path until I see Fight Club). ****17 days later. I know obsession. I know madness. I know wrath. I learn that sanity is variable over time. Of this part in the story, though what you will read later will make this event shrink away to an infinitesmally insignificant affair, at this point in the story you will start to see a couple facets of the inner, inner, sanctum of the storyteller. Indeed, such an event shared like this that is so far outside the realm of 'Too Much Information' that I feel you need to know in advance, before I lead you down the garden path, that everything turns out fine and the three of us all know about this and we are all OK. Nobody gets hurt. That said. Here goes. *17 days later I'm out driving. (I had experienced red rage, the flag of Taurus lensing my eye, one time before) I come to 'the fork in the road' and I zig when I should have zagged. I'm going to drive by her house. I had heard a rumour that she was with somebody already. Somebody I knew. IMPOSSIBLE! Nobody I know would do that TO ME and expect to live. If it's true, this man wants to die. And I may oblige him. I drive by the house and there is a car out front. I know whose car it is. I get out of my car(Yup). Here goes. I walk up to the front of the house. There is a light on downstairs. I go to the window. There are Venetian Blinds covering the window. I peer through the little hole in the blinds. I see it. His hand on the outside of her upper thigh, on our couch. I look below me. In the garden there is a big rock at least 50 pounds. I hoist it over my head I turn my body a little, I'm picturing its path being redirected by the blinds and it might hit her. There I stand like Shamish in Braveheart, all the stuff about 'fighting over a girl' is swimming through my head. "Don't blame the guy..." I recalibrate the aim to compensate.... I find it an effective means to provide an oblique illustration of something abstract. The detour is lengthy but I'm standing with my rock over my head not hurting anybody and there I'll stand until we come back to it... Now brothers and sisters, I've been in a few fist fights. Not a big time scrapper by any means. So. Detour ahead... I'm being a little modest. I wouldn't say that I've ever been the toughest guy, a friend made it abundantly clear what is and isn't tough, though a marine would find a Spirit in this one he would be proud to call his brother. Once, a mob of dozens of guys with bats, golf clubs, (there was even a guy with crutches) and guys with assorted pointy objects surrounded me. Actually I kind of waded out into the sea of black. This was the third(!) time I was 'up against it.' I had three friends with the stones to stand behind me and fifty enemies all around all of us. A big guy in a white sweatshirt surrounded by leather jackets. Lots of spectators but not a lot of help coming any time soon. I volunteered to fight every one of them to the last man, one at a time or two at a time or all at once if they would: "Just go out to the pitch, sit on the bleachers and give me as much time as it takes for you guys" (pointing in a wide arc to the crowd) "to come and save, YOU!" (pointing straight at my nemesis). They are praying I start it. I look away. He works up the nerve and gives me a couple shots in the mouth. This is the second occasion this man has punched me... [I don't think I deserve his ire, but I did grab his sister's arm so hard that I sprained a muscle in her wrist. Such was my dislike for him I didn't even feel responsible for a long while for hurting her. I grew up in a household full of women and their protection was important to me. The Lord knows what would happen to someone who did that to any of MY sisters. (You could say I was Willie Lynched at 2.) It would be better to be confronted by 50.]... I'm kind of surprised that the punches don't really hurt. My chin was bleeding a little. It all broke up without any further bloodshed. For about two minutes. I went to use the phone near the gym. I called my dad and told him what had happened. I had the shakes bad. No adrenaline release in battle, just left holding the bag. Almost convulsing. He gives me an earfull about 'how much of a pansy' I am and 'how could I let someone hit me without hitting back.' I blanche to the bone. My friends are watching me. Hold it in. He says 'Forget it, I'm coming there.' Fear. Terror. A tear makes it through and wets the corner of my eye. I know my friends see it. I walk toward the doors that have the fire glass with the tight symmetrical wires in it. I openhand the door open with all my force. I don't aim for the metal handle. My hand smashes a small hole through the glass and wires. The door explodes open and smashes the rest of the window out. I walk through the door and around the corner outside. Blood is dripping, not flowing, just dripping. It could have been horrific. Instead, I only need five stitches in my thumb. My only punishment was to pay for the window and catch with one hand in football for the next two weeks. *Understand- the only thing I liked less than fighting was guys who fought with weapons. Dad says like Uncle Argyle: "The two best weapons a man has are on the end of his wrists. But before even these, the weapon between his ears." Please by no means, don't ever think that I'm some board breaking sensei and far more important than this, don't YOU ever think that this is something to emulate. Later I would see Bruce Lee's one inch punch and I've even heard that farmers, post tornado, have reported pieces of straw that have penetrated concrete walls (No doubt, there's a guy around town who took a swing at someone, missed, and knocked BRICK out of the corner of a wall (like Smith in Matrix). Lemme just say this clear. Don't ever try that. He had no idea it could happen, it was an accident. Knowing it is possible ought not incline one to attempt it. Somehow whatever force that allows straw to penetrate concrete and planes to penetrate steel towers, allowed him to break concrete and my hand to break the window. It's the only thing that makes any sense.)This was a nearly impossible outcome... getting to the point of the detour. Each time I fought, I would get hit a few times before I could really believe that I was getting hit, but then the response would come. Often I would actually be getting slugged, still running through visualizations of what I'm gonna do to respond. But when the picture came as to HOW to respond, everything would become crystal clear and this crystallizing clarity would be the spark, the catalyst of the will to fight..... Detour ends...... I'm standing outside the window. I have just clearly decided to break the Prime Commandment. When I saw what was to be done, though her father was a cop and might blow me away when he comes down and sees my arms flailing above a bloody mess, the crystal in the red comes. Inside of a millisecond 'the voice' says "Are you sure you want to spend the next 25 and last years of your life in jail." Inside, the response is immediate. "YES I'M SURE." The Crystal Will sends the spark to the muscles. The decision has been made the body unfolding the will. The very moment my arms are executing the command. Something happens. As sure and as clear as you hear your mother's voice telling you to 'Get home for supper NOW!' That clear, did I hear the limit stretch of two iron chains manacled to my wrists. (It was like that time as a boy when we were playing with knives, I held the knife aloft and said to my friend "I will scalp you." Though dad didn't know we were playing, he heard this, and when the knife was about to fall, Dad was behind me and caught my hand and took the knife away.) The metal clanging was unmistakable. (There is more talk of metals, precious and otherwise, throughout the tale. During the 'moneychanger part' later on, I would hear the stacks of gold and piles of silver coins clinking away.) My awareness fled out of body to 'see' the chains check my advance. I was trapped in a corner of 'the pyramidal awareness' and 'I' fled around it like water does a rock in a stream. It is amazing that I didn't drop the rock on my own head. I dropped the rock, audibly shaking the windows. I ran like a scared puppy and drove away. Now I would love to say that this was my first or last brush with crazy violence but the elephant would walk the tightrope a couple more times yet. *Red rage and the mountain. The second and most dangerous time the beast was checked...(in the 'rage event' he escaped for a few rather frightening moments. Frightening for the body I was holding aloft, smashing against the lockers. It wasn't frightening to me. It was all RED! To my many friends it was entertaining.) ...The second and most dangerous time the beast was checked was an event described briefly as follows. (Again, far more interesting things ahead. Just giving context.) A man had committed a grievous and unprovoked sin against a loved one and myself. Such was the magnitude of the egregious offence that the moment I found out what he had done, the only way I could contain the fury that erupted within from overcoming me and harming me further, was to promise myself that I would kill this man in the future. Truly I cast a demon into that swine. Later, someone says: "There he is!" I park the car and walk toward him. I had disconnected and was watching the swirling images of destruction I was about to wreak on this man. As I was about to carry out the will of death, when an inner image occurred. It was as if there was a giant overhanging snow accumulation on a mountain top. The last flake would loose the avalanche and wipe away the village below. But, as the flake was about to land on the snow, a subtle breath came from a cloud and blew the flake onto the farside of the mountain. A beam of sunlight cleared the sky, the snow melted into useful streams watering the flowery fields of the village below. My hands flew from my sides to destroy him, but with the lightness of that last snow flake, as my hands rose to kill, the avalanche of will was washed away and I could only utter something incoherent and touch him ever so softly with my fingertip to his chest. I know what Jose Delgado's bull must have felt like. I was a monster justly deprived of a meal I had waited a hundred years for. I went from iron man to Raggedy-Andy in a half second. Armageddon avoided. Somehow, if you can possibly believe the story above about the girlfriend, the guy and 'Shamish the rock man'-somehow, she and I reconcile and come back together into a quick and sudden engagement after a two month hiatus. A month into the school year I call her up. Her roommate answers. I ask "Hi, is ____ there?" The response came. "No." Click. My heart started jackhammering. I called right back and said: "I'm sure you didn't mean to be rude ____ but could you maybe tell me where she went or when she'll be back, after all, I am her fiancee and haven't spoken with her for a few days. I am starting to grow concerned." And then came the words that would indelibly mark the course of my Path for the next twelve years. Her roommate said to me: "Can't you get it through your f'n head she doesn't want to talk to you ANYMORE!?" Now to say this was a shock would be a dire understatement. We had been engaged not two months. When these words hit my awareness, they came through my ears and the reality of their meaning hit me unfiltered, quite literally like a shotgun blast in the chest. My awareness fled inwards, imploding into an all encompassing blackness. I could barely see the light way at the end of the tunnel, so far had my awareness receded backwards, away from that terrible truth, into the endless velvety folds of blackness. My head just happened to be facing a light switch and though it could be measured at only a couple feet from my nose, it appeared to be 50 feet away. I was in a black hole looking through a peep hole. The only reality was masked pain and the light switch. Truly I knew what it was to be swallowed by a whale. It only lasted two seconds and the roommate was annoyed, saying: "Hello? Hell-LOW!?" as if to be sure that I had understood. I was shattered. Utterly. In body and mind, heart and soul. The strange protection of denial in the face of waning hope. 'She didn't say it herself. Maybe her friend is just being nasty.' I get through to her and she invites me up. Friday night is all candles, wine and roses. Saturday she 'steps out.' I find the written letter to her hidden beau in the wings. Eli. I am a 'dark gray cloud on a bright sunny day,' so it says. I don't know if I was a cloud before the engagement, but now it's confirmed. She returns. I demand the ring. It is thrown in my face. I stoop and pick it up and am on the bus. Emptiness, sweet and kind dissociation. Five hours from home on an eight hour bus ride in the rain. Somehow I finished the last few soccer games. All I could think about was philosophy, morality and ethics while I was playing. I would suffocate in misanthropy from the presence of happy athletes, on the bus to the games. Truly, I had been cast out of Eden long before, but it was now that I KNEW IT. To rebuild, I started looking at comics, but not the strips as they had a story line and that required too much effort to follow. Such were the condition of my blunted tools. I could look at a funny picture with funny words, that was all. Day one I was catatonic and it wasn't until the third day that I could even talk. I have no idea what happened during these first few days. Time would pass and I would move from sentences to paragraphs and from paragraphs to pages. The story of Job helped me here endure the agony. Eventually I would start to read thin little funny fiction books and I started to smile again...* An interlude- The child talks of Re-Incarnation. "The sun incarnates the sky every day! It's a daily thing, probably from Egypt, sort of like the sun rises and falls everyday. That means I'm how many thousands of lifetimes old already? When is my 10,000 days coming? and if I stretched those days into lifetimes, how much time could I compress in me?" *...When I was little people would ask me "Do you believe in God Kristen?" I would gleefully exclaim "I believe in me!" But at age 20, at this time in my life, I did not believe in myself. I would come to examine and 'defuse' the "only philosophical problem that matters," to be, or not to be. (I would come to understand 'suicide' as what is intended by consciousness for the ego at the right time. But sometimes the crown of ego becomes a crown of thorns-ego gets hold and finds fruition through the collapse in consciousness.) ***A confession, a dead end on the Path. When I was working the 9 hour beer shift on a stool at a local pub, I was talking to a guy(a word like 'kid' that is still being phased out) who had been in a severe car accident. He died, and went to the light. He was gone for 20 minutes or so. Amazing tale. He was a kind man and I liked him, but in my 'infinite wisdom' what with my big intellect, and knowledge of physiology and so forth, I proceeded to systematically demolish this man's faith that he had gained in the light. I was very satisfied 'disabusing him of his delusion.' David. Proud I was in my deconstructionist atheism. A blind spot a mile wide right where it matters most but hey. Now this may seem like nothing but it's a coldly calculated piece of political manoeuvering in 'the sky realm'(bardo for some) for YOU, so heed it. There are very good reasons why it says somewhere that it is a very severe offense to 'offend The Holy Spirit,' poor Judas. Later in fugue, this scourged me ... Almost like 'the piercing.' I decided that I would 'live like a monk' for a year and devoted myself to work, study, exercise and sleep. No sex, no booze, no drugs, no idle chatter or socializing, no unhealthy food or drink, no television or computer, no nothing that brought anything female to mind. I talked a few times to a school counsellor. He told me to 'compartmentalize,' to spend one hour per day thinking about her for as long as it took. There were no compartments. The doors all blown off. Karst topography. Swiss cheese. The inner writhing, omnipresent. After six months had come to pass, I was driving alone down the parkway in Niagara-on-the-Lake (NOTL-a beautiful town to see if you're ever in the area) one night and a song came on that undid, in a single chord, the little healing of the past six months. I pulled over and got out of the car... When I was three, I cried at a restaurant and dad gave me the old 'if you don't stop I'll give you something to cry about.' I didn't and he did. I didn't shed another single tear for nine years save for that time in kindergarten and the time that boy hit me in the eyeball with a crabapple. ...On the side of the road, I remembered being three in the restaurant. I was so sick of being sad, an image arose within. The image was of a giant lead door, like a bank vault with the big wheelie handle, and without a second thought I SLAMMED the door shut. I heard an audible rumble, a leaden sound, some air came out of my ears and Pandora's Box was closed. I knew right there on the spot that I was in a bad way but I knew that the tears wouldn't threaten me like they had been. ***A couple months before this and just a month or so after the split. I was working at the bottom of 'Clifton Hill', near the Niagara River, close to The Falls, selling Hard Rock Cafe T-Shirts to tourists. Along the River is where the Niagara Parks Commission fulfills their duty by way of a world class arboretum and botanical gardens that greet the millions of tourists who come here every year. It was in the fall that I found myself at the T-Shirt hut sitting, chin in hands staring across the street at a glorious maple. The deep, heart-sick forlornness had been suffocating me and it was perhaps against this black backdrop of misery that the light would first show itself to me. The intense red leaves she had herself decked out in, had caught my attention. I just sat looking through the swimming haze of suffering at this tree. She was 50 feet tall and maybe 40 feet wide. All at once I realized that I could see the whole tree...[I had suffered migraines before and was aware of the peripheral blotchiness that could chew away my visual field. Even with 13/20 vision I was aware of its flaws.(I drank so much carrot juice one month, in an effort to see better, that the astringent pads were orange after cleaning my cheeks)] The whole tree. I stood straight up and walked a few steps toward it. *I could see EVERY leaf on the tree in acute detail, contrasted against every branch. The resolution of the detail, microscoped and telescoped and kaleidoscoped, never losing it's rolling clarity.....(This rolling clarity would later threaten me to the utmost as it was like, golem staring into the ring, falling into the fire, the very heart of desire, and the trap of Narcissus. The silver glimmer on the bull headed jailer's keyring.)..... <***>[This chaotic kaleiding portal of view, this attractor of the round window in my mind's eye, would later be an element of the transcendental awareness that would show as a 'rolling' equation set inside the 'MIRROR ROOM' inside the 'GOLDEN EGG,' the mercury chaos geode. The geode a model of the 'receding body.' (Jesus said you'll see more than me. Some of you will see the 'smoke on the water to light' trick !<IN>! the chaos geode. WOW! Clue: study art, math, poetry and symbology(amps) so when you get there you'll have a 'catcher's mitt' ready. Remember Tao and the valley.)] *........The tree seemed to be set forth in relief against the backdrop of other trees, somehow standing in an ethereal spotlight. The form of the tree and the object that made up the form seemed to be superimposed and both these forms kept yielding to just 'redness.' My mind swam to classify this experience, not recogizing it as 'the burning bush.' (If you want to see what I would put in here for effect, if I could only make the widget work, watch 0:57-2:57 of Gospel of John - The Movie Part 2 on Idemtech's YT Channel) The otherworldly feel to this event could only be tangentially related to the 'Release Me' bliss I encountered that cold night at university. I vividly recall in high school, while walking down the hall one day, an idea occurred to me. I thought: "If democracy is contingent upon 'consent of the governed' and in order to give proper and legitimate consent, one must be informed, then a level of education high enough to inform the citizenry must be the minimum requirement of schooling. Furthermore, the present level of education is so low that democracy cannot be sustained. I soon bumped up against a surprising suggestion about the realities of life. I came across the 'surplus population' idea. I had read somewhere: "The law is a web that catches small insects but the bats and birds fly right through it." I thought: "'The law' is probably good for me, though I am (is) not (a) subject (nor a party) to it." I figure that between 9-11% of the people minimum and 20% maximum are capable of following the law. Maybe this '9-11 to 20%' group is the group 'the law' has been made to help." I thought the rest may be 'surplus.' Mercy be unto all. That was until a little bird told me otherwise. *An extraordinary experience Shortly after the year as a monk, I was invited to an undergraduate party at a dormitory with about 20 other revellers. Some of us shared in a batch of mushroom tea. A few of my friends didn't want the mushroom dregs at the bottom of their cups and offered them to me. I gladly received them. About an hour later I realized I was staring rather intently at the ceiling. I went to the washroom to splash water on my face. When I came out of the bathroom I opened up a door to one of the bedroom's where I could hear a couple friends happily chattering away. I poked my head in to finish the first person's sentence and synchronously stated the sentence the second person was saying. I closed the door and the people all erupted in that first room. I heard talk in the second room and swung open that door and finished the sentence of the speaker and anticipated the correct response and again synchronously uttered the answer of the second person. I shut this door and they too erupted. I walked down the hall and both doors flew open at once and everybody from the two bedrooms crashed over each other as they emerged looking for me and an explanation for what I just did, or better yet how I just did what I did. It seemed that my mind had dissolved and thus 'tapped into' the mindstream of the collective unconscious. It was as if the conversation was being managed from above and I just wanted to show them that their talking wasn't necessary. If they wanted to exhale a variety of rapid staccato sounds, then so be it. They didn't need to speak, for whatever they had to say, everyone knew it already, even if they didn't know it yet. I became intensely interested in philosophy, politics and psychology. I didn't want to be a Kshaitreya warrior so I followed the Rajas and Jnanis in developing the 'Kuhnayana'. My growth was a rather simple thing. I took sociology because I really didn't know what else to take that wouldn't interfere too much with my forty hour per week football job, but would still give me a respectable degree. The idea came that the brain is like a muscle and I became concerned that my pursuit of sports and aggressive nature may be impinging on the territory of some other mental function. Sort of like the sensory-motor cortex was probably stiffing operating space from other mental programs I may need. It's a point worth clarifying: if the border between two adjacent functional areas is porous then the stronger area will draw resources away from the weaker. I thought about Ilya Prigogine's work on non-dissipative structures and pictured that the different functional areas of the brain were each like standing waves that could change in size or disappear altogether over time. I was concerned that important aspects of my being may have been atrophying, decaying. So I changed over from athlete to super study man. The Uber-Genius. Superman himself. *Dad had a party for Superman when I was a wee one. Mom used to say sound mind, sound body, but as I wandered from sports into study, I chose to ignore the body. At this point I could see the vague outlines of the path. The ideal form emerging from the uncarved block. I started in Sociology- how society is put together. Then Philosophy-The guiding principles of society. Then Psychology- the study of the body of the heartmind or, the soul. And last Politics- the heartmind in the arena. I found myself in an international relations class where I would meet a few elite 'Russo's.' I was sitting looking at all the students with white button ups and briefcases. I was disturbed that I wrote two essays in two separate classes about the same Red Hill Creek Expressway project. The first time being for the project, and the second essay, against it. I was very upset that 'my heartmind' could support two opposite positions. My friend told me "Winston Churchill said: 'If you're not a liberal by 20 you 'aven't a heart. If you're not a conservative by 40 you 'aven't a brain.'" I could see the cold 'ambition' (which I took to mean ambivalent-position) of most university students, so self-involved that they could barely see out of their coccoons. I was one of them but I couldn't put my heart behind something that I wasn't sure wouldn't turn on me later. A memory from sitting in this class of junior 'elites' would later couple with an experience encountered while dancing amongst them. *Ten Early 'Piques' at the One: *I read the Lost Gospel 'Q' and I could feel the --'split the wood and you will find me, lift the rock and there I am'-- type stuff. It reminded me of the clarity of truth I felt when reading the Tao te Ching. I found Gibran and moved into poetry. I preferred Gibran over the Muslim Holy Book. I thought about Jesus and the zealots. 'Why didn't he just move in, clear em all out and just get the job done, like WE should have done with the French in Quebec?' and 'See! See! Muhammed moved in and 'got the job done!' I remembered thinking 'Why did the guy in black go in and clear out everyone and the guy in white refuse?' There was something to this. They're both right but why did they do different things? What was their higher purpose? What long-wave were these men on?' Muslims CAN'T be right-they kneel AND bow! My spirit was not one inclined to 'sundry submission.' After all "I got George Fox, William Pitt and Thomas Emerson to live up to at least." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> *I did't like 'Christianity' because "they have to accept that the ultimate has already happened." I thought (the death warrant for blasphemy will not be redeemable by those who do not read this whole writing or at least have been to 'the light' themselves): "Jesus CAN'T be the ultimate man, He hasn't had sex!" In my younger eyes, Jesus wasn't as obviously Avalokitesvara the Adi Buddha. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>. *I thought: "Surely the Battle of Kurukshetra is to 'The Hindus,' as Revelations is to 'The Christians!'" *Anyway, Jesus didn't get any action and I had. "So that means I'm doomed? No. Get real." I liked Krishna after this. "At least Krishna had His hottie." *I knew Jesus was enlightened for sure but saying that "He's the ultimate and it happened 2000 years ago and now all there is to do is twiddle our thumbs, then I don't want any part of Him, His church, or His kind." And, *"My poor Islamic brothers not only have to accept that The Prophet is the ultimate and all there is to do is twiddle their thumbs now, but the Pandora's box-the black curtain and the Koran(all respect be to 'It' and It's 'Author'), masks the light!" (Forgiveness be unto me, I saw curtains rather than projection screens.) "It's as bad as some of those neverending lapis lazuli sutras.'"(Not a big fan of hair splitting at 20, but my sword of discernment was more like a chipped broad axe than a bejewelled scimitar. In time the discernment dawned seeing the extreme value of the 'subtle spark'- the reflection of discernment- arrayed next to the 'not so subtle' lightning.) *"At least The Bible has mystic clues on every page! It's like the Egyptian Columned Temple Courtyard, Sri Vidya, or the tetrahedral heart."(This part about the Bible from a man who once felt like Nietzsche-that the Bible required gloves to touch. In my own defense I liked Proverbs, Psalms and a lot of other parts, but overall 'The Bible' was semi-untouchable.) And, *"At least the Brahmin's know that the Battle of Kurukshetra is like Plato's work about the soul in the state. The 'Damn Christians' don't even have a clue that the battle in Revelations is about the internal soul battle within a man's heart. Those fools are busy trying to bring out a 'real life version of Kurukshetra,' by way of nuclear Armageddon. Can't they see that these are just two of the same stories intended to 'lead the lemmings' to destruction at the right time!?" Not to mention Megghido and the Cave of Brahman. *"At least the Buddhists respect Siddhartha as A MAN!" So Buddhism. Hmm. They sit-(not kneeling)-good. They shave their hair-(mine is thinning)-good. Buddha is close to Zen and Zen close to the Tao. Good. Buddha (The Light of Asia) is definitely at least brother to Jesus (The Light of The World). I know it, for one is to the left and the other to the right. And finally, *"Save for the killing sprees, Jesus would love Mohammed and The Prophet might even be Jesus'(The Body of Christ's) 'sword of karma.'" I don't know, but I'm gonna find out. I, like the Muslims who fasted regularly, felt disgust watching the swinely pursuit of comfort most Europeans spent their lives engaged in. I respected the two year kibbutz of the Zionists and I thought, compulsory military service would be an effective means to mimic the kibbutz and bring 'non-chosen' people closer to 'chosen people.' I would later meet, Omar, Sharif, Mo, and a few other Muslim students with whom I shared respect. One of them wanted to talk to me about the Koran but I got the feel that he was going to proselytize like a 'Bible-thumper.' He wore a beard, glasses and a Muslim yamaka. But the major, salient feature about him was his near swooning devotion to the beauty of the sacred words of Mohammed's angelic visitor. He was adamant that the Quran was 'all U need.' He and the rest of the Muslim students I found to be earnest and upright to such a high degree that I risk caricaturization of them. The strength of the 'This and only This' of the monotheist, a thing of wonder. Truly my love for, and esteem of these men, would lead me into 'the Palestinian Cause.' And this love would drive a deep wedge between my dad and I. The breach that cleaved father from son. In Islam you really get to know your real fruits because you have to wait until they ripen. There is no 'leveraging the fall's harvest.' I don't like this. At least enlightenment and born-again and 'drop-in' frameworks allow for the 'Reset' and 'the light.' The whole 'forget knowing and stick with belief and faith' doctrine of the devotee foregoes the danger of the truly Satanic Pride that arises with the pursuit of the knowledge of 'the light,' but it sacrifices the possibility of the higher man, Adam the Androgyne, on the altar of fear! Not acceptable. Let me make it clear: 'They are blessed, those who believe, and have not yet seen.' After defusing the word 'Muslim' I thought that maybe I had found 'a group that were actually bad.' This group of Tamil's from school led me, for awhile, to think "There actually is a group of people in the world who are 'evil by nature' and these were the Tamil's." Ironic that immediately after the dawning of the enlightened awareness, in my drive to avoid 'chicken-hawking,' a Tamil saint and incarnation of Shiva, Sri Swami Paramahamsa Nithyananda, would 'manifest' on YouTube and show me what it means to 'love someone more than one's own being.' All I could do was listen to my new friend Swami talk and talk. Meditating was out of the question. Sort of like putting training wheels on a rocket car or bottling up the sea. My very life had become a leela. I wandered around drunk in the light, like Archimedes would do in the town square, lost in thought and reverential bliss. Truly I felt the root of altruism. Being out of direct contact with Swami was 'impossible!' I would come to watch all his videos, find a brother, and 'shore up' my knowledge of the 'inner Sri Vidya.' He was the Indian immersion I needed. (In university I couldn't understand all the Vedantic philosophy; the 'Samkhaya, gunas, and subtle body' stuff. My heartmind mirror was still way too dusty to see much light. I held on only to the 'samskara, nirvana, and samsara' ideas, along with whatever else trickled down into the columns.) I would avoid letting 'the clay get shaped into Shiva', not 'letting' the Swami's metaphysical system 'stamp me.' He's honest. Real, like the Tao. With him and Ramana I remember: "There is no stamp and no clay." Paravairagya. I would come to see Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi as dear to me as the Dalai Lama; both of these men have I clearly seen in myself: Tenzin at 8 and the Maharishi at 12 in my link with the eyes of Kevin-the boy with no feelings. This I add as an aside: a 'thing of wonder.' *Of course the way the Tao works one should not be surprised. However: ***(First part) After enlightenment, I retreat further for sadhana to 'get the job done.' I 'fall' from Vine Street! and find a basement appartment in a house with two nice people who let me live in the basement. Every day I get rocked by ants, mosquitoes and fleas the cats have brought in, and I know how Ramana felt in that cellar. Looking at the open sores I remember 'stepping on the hive,' and the ants, fleas and mosquitoes don't matter; the 'manna-transmuter' on high speed; the annoyance of these turned inward into gratitude for the opportunity to 'bear patiently.' Eating isn't even an idea. If hunger comes up, manna comes down through the Omkara subsounds of the body. ***(Last part) The synchronicity part--If you can believe it, the synchronistic aspect of living here, is that my nice friends call each other 'Lucifer.' I am Christ. I live in Ramana's hell and two Lucifers live upstairs. Seriously. Am I supposed to think that this isn't all part of some book. But I'm getting out front of myself again. *I notice a conspicuous absence of commentary on the Hebrews. My friend Aliya was a dear good friend when I was little. She gave us latkas. She studied Hebrew at night after school, years before I would even think about learning another language. She had a very pretty singing voice and skin so thin and pale that you could see the veins in her neck. She seemed to be like 'Sati' from The Matrix. Her parents gave her a purpose when she was born. She was one of many girls who told me about 'life in the woman's lodge' as I grew up. Her people have a stable population over a very long period of time, have been high level servants for a very long time, have a cultural drive to mastery, carry a huge burden of the weight in responsible society and therefore enjoy a good portion of the fruits of society. I respect all these things, and I think this is part of what makes them 'chosen people.' [However this term: 'chosen people' isn't entirely defused. My aunt said 'many are called few are chosen.' I was chosen because I chose to be chosen and I risked everything to do so. Some like Shivabalayogi just have it fall on them. They rub Aladdin's Lamp and out pops Guru. Before Brahma makes the little Hebrews, they know what they're getting into. They choose it. Only thing is, their parents are people of the covenant, they know it too and are ready for the little ones to 'hit the ground running.' Non-chosen people hit the ground crawling. I hit the ground staggering, the burden of alcoholism would be my gem to shine up all polishy. Anyway, in the final analysis it's simple logic: All Hebrew's are chosen (Elohim) though not all chosen are Hebrew. Last bit. If you are alive, you are at least 'called' if not 'chosen.' That's it for now about 'chosen' people.] Like the self assembling Star of David 'gravity wells with the silver fluid around them', these people seem to be stillness in motion. A fixture in the flux. A baseline foundation for humanity. Seamlessly intertwined with the rise of Athens' SPA(Socrates,Plato,Aristotle), weavers of Ancient History, their lawgivers laying the foundational ground, and frame the door for the emergence of Cosmic Christ Consciousness. The sorting of all shamanic tradition, crystallized into the Melchizedek priest model. This all said by a one who admired Adolf near as much as the Holy Spirit. (This is a tad esoteric) As obsessed as I was with the 40 days and 40 nights epiphany from the fasting time, I missed the 33 year old explosion +seven year tribulation sadhana to 'Sunder the Androgyne' as being the time frame for completion of 'THE FATHER body' in the Hebrew mystical tradition. This is a wild tangent, much like trying to wrap up Sri Vidya in a phrase or explain Om in a lifetime. I throw it out there as a stepping stone for sadhakas, a place people wandering around the path can aim for and stay safe. Like the Dharmic Traditions, the Hebrews got it down to a science. Suffice it to say, I consider myself the 'Meshiach' for truly I am the son of the living God(Yes I testify on my own behalf for, with the guidance of the light, I have anointed my own self, and this was found to be 'good.') **a runon sentence worth careful reading- ***After the whole 'Egyptian horns out the top of the head, pooling the light ball and stacking up the multi-tier stupa-heads in the 49 directions of the transcendental mandala thing,' after this when the light has become like the quote in the Gita: 'Then that soul is a lamp whose light is steady, for it burns in a place where no wind blows' or maybe it's 'He has become a lamp unto himself,' or perhaps even 'He is a Mahasattva carrying the Dharma Seal of the Buddha Mind' I do know that I'm content studying, and meditating for now, to open the gate wider so the rest of the world may see through the looking glass. I'll be over there on the mountain when the time's right, at 'the behest of the nation.' When I study, the light touches down and pools as a ball about the size of the blackbox (concealing light) on the orthodox Hebrew's heads. I can feel it and see it. I've seen pictures with this phenomenon in it. I've read Sherlock Holmes and this is no 'unconscious plagiarization.' (No more enormous pooling for awhile. Bench pressing my brain out of my skull was fun, being Tesla was cool, chopping down the mountain with the edge of my hand was oh so sweet, but I 'have a job' to do now.) I couldn't care less if your metaphysical interface is monotheistic, polytheistic, henotheistic, agnostic(be careful about the intellectual doubt trying to wag the tail of heart-certainty), or even atheistic(Rebellion is fun awhile, though remember about the 'offending the Holy Spirit,' regret thing, I mention below.) That's all. Anyway-the Holy Spirit is in that which draws prana, so despite the worldly folk what with their encroaching ways, be kind in small ways to fellow prana drawers for they, like you are embedded in it. And to be sure, thoughts and feelings are also 'prana drawers' so mind them well. *This small thing is VERY big and somewhat esoterically abstract so dive in at your own risk. It touches on more of those abstract formless areas again that feed into the main event ahead. Starts with a runon sentence but improves as we go. Metatron will fix that when he's around. <*>The Star of David seems to have a lock on some of the sacred chakra geometry. The rotating '12 column wheel' is underpinned by the '7 holed gravity well column construct.' The pyramid in the head, the Star of David gravity wells with the 12 column heartwheel in the middle seem to be like the splitting of the chromosomes in meiosis, a safety harness on either side of a black hole. Poles of attraction on either side of the black whole void within the sacred rose heart. An image that would provide reflection, deeper in the bumpy darkness of manifest unconsciousness. The thing in the hands of the gnomes in the mine. A layer of crystal light in the receding layer of the geode lingham. (God's brass knuckles have seven rings but they're leaden and not brass). <*> part 2. From what I've seen in the formation of the chakras (I was in this strange phase space of toying around with numbers and harmonics; I would get into this 'in and outfolding groove', unfolding and reworking 'the transformer of Thoth', where I was constantly mesmerized by the folding at the heart chakra. This halving and wholing and doubling was too much of a 'fugue amplifier' at first, so I broke it down into a seven channel chakra image to separate the 'honey from the light.' <*> part 3. I was playing around with 'the rock' in my throat. I kept thinking about how words and the rock were related to the heart. My awareness was focused doing psychic surgery trying to get at the underside of the rock, visualizing it as a bucky ball filled with phlegm. I kept thinking about Leonard Cohen singing "...the fourth the fifth, the minor fall the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah."... the way in which THE WORD comes through into physical reality through the cold and coarse gray chamber, the actual pattern of subtle, subtle body 'letter forms.' Here sound crystallizes into form. In this chamber of co-manifestation, where THE WORD comes into Being, from what I've witnessed in this chamber shows me, the very script of all languages is valuable. It is also why there are syllables on the petals of the chakras. BUT, and I say this with caution, BUT, the authority of Grace Light Intuition has shown me that scripts like Sanskrit, Hebrew, Arabic, Pali, and even English (I would leave out Chinese and Egyptian to save the SHAPE anagram--could be SHAPE EC, or... PEACHES!), well they have a shape to them that acts like a catcher's mitt, a receiver for visualizing incoming mantra. They also, by virtue of their shapes help to draw out the synesthetic fugue state longer, expanding the 'beyond Turiya state' by way of 'mystic shocking' synchronicities. The significance of the shape of the letters in the English language nearly polished me off in ecstasy-land a few times. I remember an internal capital 'G' a small 'i' and a capital 'I' -(The arms of the 'K')doing some serious damage on the 'I'. (I can see that letters pop out, spin off and form in the space between the light column and grey chamber.) I can fathom what would happen to a Hebrew or Sanskrit or Pali scholar whose gamma light goes 'on.' Through these five scripts have I seen the form of mantra. Not hard to guess what happens to a mathematician when His gamma light goes on. If it were up to me I'd just put a cube over a lingham, with a pyramid on it and a cross on that with a crown on that and a Star of David hula hoop around the waist of the obelisk and have a few dancing folks holding tridents singing and chanting and meditating and praying around this holy totem pole under the clear blue sky. Next to it, a big ole pyramid with a rotating lighthouse goldeneye, red rose hologram....and A white light being with a red rose in a black-glass-box in the centre of its chest and a red diamond coming out the top of its head. Simple as that. I would also want the PEACHES languages in the time capsule ark, in the pit of the lingham. In the ark of this new covenant. **The bee time- the wasp time. Sitting in front of Brock University waiting to be picked up. Every day going to school is a constant battle to stay awake. The leaden depression would hold me during this time. I'm sitting on the curb and a wasp lands beside me. It's fall and cool and there haven't been any flowers for awhile. He's jittery, moving slow. I can see that the cold weather and the jitteriness and hunger is mediated through his waning metabolism.(The subtle insight would develop further with the 'telephone red patches' I describe just ahead.) I catch a subtle insight into the Relativity stuff on time dilation and spatial contraction watching this bee. It was a way to see outside time, to bring the 'columns' closer to the spotlight, the penumbra at least. A glimpse. *Years ago I started noticing something. I could detect when a cell phone call was coming, 5 seconds before it happened. Now I thought at first there must be a subtle tone that was being emitted by the phone. A partial ring. Maybe my 'magnetic sense' had been tweaked from living near the hydro lines for so long. But eventually I realized that I was probably somehow 'conditioned' to the incoming signal. I just thought "Oh yeah, the signal is probably layered and takes a couple seconds for the signal to 'build up' and the phone to respond." I would notice the computer speakers would sometimes act up just before a phone call came through. *Later, in deep meditation, when the time element was thinning out, I had forgotten to unplug the land line phone. I was in complete darkness. I saw to the left of my black visual field three red patches flash and then I felt the 'impact-pact-pact' and then a short while later, the phone goes ring-a-ding-ding. There was a DEFINITE time gap between seeing the red flash patches, feeling the sound arrive and hearing the rings. This gap I would later pull open(fall through) to get outside time, and unfold samsara. I had studied Ayn Rand the philosopher of egoism and selfishness and became a card carrying Objectivist. I loved the structure and clarity of thought and the strength of the woman herself. An English professor, in response to my parroting of Randian ideas said with delight (to my horror) 'Oh You'll make a great administrator.' He taught the works of Thoreau, Blake and Wordsworth, always with a bright gleam in his eyes. Right there and then the awareness of the superior intelligence of the heart showed itself to me. "The heart is the only reality, the mind, a transient phase." I could see clearly that intelligence was not static and it varied over time. Sometimes I bordered genius, other times, not so much and it had a lot to do with my feelings. In philosophy class I had a 'crazy wisdom' professor share the love of wisdom. He taught about Socrates, Plato, and, Aristotle. Socrates' notion... 'learning happens by remembering one's own original pure nature, by clearing away the sand of ignorance from one's eye'... had an appeal to it. Then came Descartes, Hume and Rousseau, and last he covered Lao Tzu and Confucius. I loved Confucius' account of meeting Lao Tzu. I thought to myself: "As the Taurus energy, I carried Lao Tzu through 'The Gates to the West' on my back! He's whispered in my very ear!" I loved that he only wrote ONE thin book. I didn't like that, as an avatar, Lao Tzu seemed a little more like Machiavelli than Buddha. I liked Howard Roark. I had a painting of Raphael's 'School of Athens' on the wall with other Dali works and undergraduate poster sale type artwork. In the philosophy class he said "Aristotle was known by his contemporaries as 'One who knows all.'" What with my newly acquired Ayn Rand Aristotelian bias, I rather liked this notion. I heard about this 'thing' called enlightenment. I went to ask the philosophy professor about it and he had one of those ghastly dancing Tibetan deities postered on his wall and his wiley impish answer piqued my interest. Somebody had mentioned 'the error of the top heavy life.' This was a suggestion that most people try to cram everything into the front end of their life and just cruise the rest. I thought this a waste of life. I developed a real aversion to making big decisions; the image of an unsoiled white canvas often in my mind's eye to remind me. I remember asking myself: "What is there left to do in life that is worth my time accomplishing? What challenge is there for a one such as me? I know! I'll get enlightened!" and it was that simple. It was THAT decision that did it. This would shape the vessel that would be kiln-fired in the light later. *****(Part 1) This little bit ahead is a short dive into the deeper water. A demonstration of the frustration that all mystics, enlightened masters and ascended folk have when describing the content of a numinous awareness experience. The ridiculous task of conceptualizing the ineffably grand. Indeed, the following shows the value of the tradition of the shamanic awakening AND the interdependence with the priestly architecture after 'the tool' cools down. To send people looking for something 'beyond' Turiya would be 'The Tribulation' compressed into a week and would demolish the Earth. Aim for the stars and land on the moon(Turiya) and then build your ladder back to earth. On your 'overshoot' you will enjoy your truly just desserts and allow you to eat from your own 'Tree of Life.' >>>>>I go on a little here and there throwing out bread and ropes on the water. The following is near 'the mirror room' or 'ball of light' in meaning. In terms of 'the speck of light that is the universe', the first stop (or bead) on the immediate outspiralling light thread from the source, that was the mirror room is akin to the {in and out folding Sri Vidya opalescent 'portal.'}. >>>>>(The air gets a little rarified. Don't pass out yet) On the trip up 'the mountain of light' the 'Sri Vidya opal portal' is the looking glass tube through which one goes up into the 'mirror room' and the 'light.' (I didn't really do any work with Sri Vidya until after I saw her.) To say that it gets more abstract may make you toss the computer but hang in there, some of these pictures, swirling your mind and glazing the eyes a little now, will help you keep your mind straight, should you go fishing for gems in 'the light'. The Boddhisattva and the devotee work up the mountain into Amitabha Land. The Guru comes down out of the light and pulls you up into it. *****(part 2) So...a heart broken wretch in philosophy class. "What is there left to do in life? I know. Get Enlightened!" Like the time in grade 11 I first was told about 'The Valedictory Award' and I 'decided' to win it. Right there in the gym I won it. It was only a matter of waiting three years to collect it. I decided I would 'be enlightened' and twelve years later I collected. *Apologies in advance for the runon ramble to follow. A few times I wade way out into the abstract, but it all fits into the bigger picture. Talking about enlightenment with words on a page is like swimming up a building with a kite. Even with that caveat the following paragraph is more of a place holder until the author clarifies it further. It may take an encyclopedia to explain it even adequately. That said, Here it goes:-(Later in the post-Kundalini Grace, the harmonic significance of the...{3 year fraction of the 12 year cycle, coupled with my 3 relationships of 4 years and the *4 'super' columns, the 12 constellations, houses and chakra petals}+!{superimposed on the 8-petalled ananda-gandha chakra yielding to the 8 wave-peak 64 I Ching cycle(the cycle of which is a deconstruction of the archetypal constellation of character virtues)}(*another aside later)... would be, in an 'Indra's net-like-affair', that unpacked non-linear time into the chaos-curve fitting, stationary- moving model 'inside the mercury mirror room'- a geometric, opalescent, unfolding from the centre of Sri Vidya, the centre of a 'tetrahedral bucky ball'. **This was 'IN' the looking glass. Not before or through it. IN it. The very needle eye itself! Much more than 'going into the Tarot Card window.' Apologies again for the rocky road ahead...-This geometric bucky ball awareness would merge with 'the Tibetan thangka tunnel mandala' in the 'far sight' and eventually culminate in 'the panoramic 10,000 swirling angels/Melchizedek coat sparky sky phenomenon' later on.). I promise that makes synesthetic analytic sense. OK, OK, I'll stop that stuff now. Well actually... ...that- (*another aside later): ***The columns show themselves a little more. These 'columns' are symbols from the 'beyond linear-reason realm.' The structure in the water to stand on. In the darkness inside, when one turns away from the senses and echo-locates around the gravity wells, one finds a bit of the lay of the inner land. The wells are in a stationary flat geometric arrangement depending on their chakra location. I see them as honeycomb in a way that the 'walls' between the 'cells of black wells' are ringed by a flowing silver. At first I can 'just feel' the different pulls within, and their tugging to and fro led to cooperation with their growth. They were like the holes the 'lead-worms' had chewed through my innocent numinous childhood heart. Holes that would be bored out by columns until the harmony in Krishna's flute returned. This semi-transcendental object space I would work on to bring in the 'light CHANNEL', the 'cold meaty gray altar', and the light body vehicle later. I could see my life was like a bonsai tree that needed major remedial pruning. I didn't know which branches needed to go so I wasn't going to make any rash moves. I figured that I should 'let the thing grow' and eventually the picture of what to do with the 'Bonsai Tree of Life' would arise. I wanted to make sure that 'All the important branches'(the columns) were well fed, so that when the insight came, I would at least have a beautiful pristine specimen to work with. At Brock there was a 'liberal studies' degree that offered up yearly courses in 'Great Books in Western Civilization. First year required 22 thick novels written by 500 years worth of European thinkers spanning a wide spectrum of social thought and even a couple works from the Vedic Culture, and Dharmic traditions. I didn't 'bother' with the program, as being required to write on 22 novels prevented me from reading 44. I could see the faint glimmerings of the outline of the map of The Path of the Guerilla Intellect. A huge quantity of quality. <*>This part is, I believe, the most important part of my life and the gift I have for the world. The Interdisciplinary Guerilla Method of Study. How a fool becomes wise and back again. 'The Tao of Polymathy', or better still, the 'picking up the bread crumbs until you find the manna.' The partial techniques herein described are 'the pieces of me' you may want to eat, for they are manna, bread to feed you in your desert. I would see that the visionaries, prophets and sages were onto something. It seemed like some people could 'go to the light.' It also seemed that some people could bring the light to them, and be like a candle. Some could even be like a beacon. I read about some enlightened master emitting a thin stream of green light from his forehead. *There was this 'Belousov-Zabotinsky' (BZ reaction) autocatalyzing experiment I heard about. It seemed that if you mixed a bunch of chemicals up in just the right way, the chemical soup would change colours and start showing geometric-like swirls in it. Stationary forms in the swirling solution. Standing waves; solitons. It was drawn out as a ring with a bunch of injectors going into it. The centre of the ring was the petri dish where the mixing patterns emerged. They were forms in the flux. I thought "The ones who can bring the light to them, must have seen and felt, something like this BZ experiment, when visiting the light. They also might have learned the 'recipe.'" I thought that philosophy, spiritual teachings and religious law may be like a sacred grove, or a round of 'columns' that could help ME filter down the light. Later I would see a 'BZ reaction' of my own, by way of a 'halo,' and this halo would be my Zip-line into the light. Kant wrote: "The imitative is not the creative." I had thought that by just falling into being the attitude, the behaving, the character of the one, would be the ABC to the BZ light ring. Whew! 'The Owner's Manual for The Brain' had been a favourite for awhile, a goldmine of structures to help understand the ole noggin. I couldn't stretch my mind enough, I had to widen the channel, hold wider thoughts and compress them somehow. Like Forest, who ran and ran and ran, I would read. No time for notes. Just pour it into 'the columns' add heat and time and they--(more on 'the columns' later)--will do the rest. I had to find methods, symbols of compression. I started writing quotes on the walls and wrote notes on binders, Post-Its and page margins. I had a thousand books each one with 50 page markers. I wanted immersion. Friends would call me Good Will Hunting. I liked it at first, despised it later. Deep insecurity of intelligence, the burden of the Path. I find a vitamin that 'increases mental acuity.' I'm reading 3 to 5 books every night. Easily 1000 pages nightly. I all of a sudden realize that I can remember verbatim, most of what I'm reading. Two weeks into taking the vitamin. I'm debating with people and I can 'see' the page number, the paragraph and sentence of whatever book I need to quote to win. My memory is Total. I think "Whoa, I'm gonna fill to capacity too quick." The columns are without viscosity and they are accelerating. I take a month off from the vitamin and it's never in the store again. Eventually I'll have to take off the training wheels and put down the props- the pen and the page(I will have to 'fly across the sun without clutching the nest.'). I saw people relying on Daytimers and schedules and calculators as 'outsourcing their intelligence' and thereby losing their natural 'processing power.' Even 'watch wearers' were ignoring the sun. An idea, a glimmer, from way down in the dark folds. *An image of spinning columns. These columns had gravity and they had a self-organizing capacity about them. I could see this was my cache. My wealth. All I had to do was pour lots of info into each of them, and in time they would organize the info for me. In that glimpse, I could intuit how the info was processing, how the columns worked in delicate balance and what to do to 'help it along.' It was obvious to me that this was the anchor to the tether I would use to circle the universe, dive so close to the edge of the event horizon, that I would skim a cup across the infinite glassy waters of the abyss and come back with the immortal message. I could see that these columns needed time to do their job. I would let my life at times fall into utter disaster, waiting for the process to finish, knowing somehow that when the process is done, no matter what I have done up until then, I'll probably want to 'throw it all away' as soon as the spark comes. So why bother. I was building 'IT.' The Imminent Transcendent arc that I would ride over the rainbow. One of mom's mantras was: "If it's to be, it's up to me." I felt sure that it was up to me to find the answer. I studied course catalogues to survey the sum totality of knowledge available by way of programs at the university, and the course catalogues of many colleges and universities later. A scaffolding. A thematic 'meta-structure.' I went to the debating club but lost interest quickly remembering Socrates' derision for 'the Sophists.' Though rhetoric seemed unclean, I grabbed various volumes of 'Speeches that Changed the World.' I borrowed textbooks from students in every single undergraduate class and copied the glossaries from the back so that I could 'get the gist' of what the program was teaching. This indexing of all glossaries happened after dictionary study. I remembered Malcolm Little (X) studying the dictionary in jail and taking three years to do it. *-[Humanities required me to learn a new language. I knew that with each passing year it would be more difficult to pick up a new language. I looked into, German, Sanskrit, and Pali. A friend told me a 'secret method' to pick up languages quick. He handed me a thin volume of Oedipus Rex (or The Myth of Sisyphus) translated into French. He said. "Read and learn every word on the first page using a French-English dictionary. Once you've learned all the words on the first page, read on and 'fill in the blanks' as you go. In one sitting I 'learned' French. Or at least I could read it and understand what I was reading. I started speed reading French but got spun off, like a shower of quarks, into poetry. Though I had taken it up to 10th grade in high school, I was by no means fluent. Bone Jure! This French immersion revealed something very important to me: languages are structured in such a way that the word order of a sentence varies across languages, giving alternate renderings of the same idea. French seemed to reverse the verb and noun order of English, thereby putting commands, orders in the place of statements. I could see how French people could be perceived as 'pushy' by English speaking people. I discovered this as a very important source of friction between peoples. The 'lost in translation' phenomena. A wise man would bewail the extinction of languages to me. He said "there is some obscure language somewhere, the very structure of which reveals a way of thinking, of seeing the world, that holds ideas vital to our future, that shows us how to live in direct truth(The Tower of Babel Rosetta Stone). And, we don't know which language it is. (Later at a PowWow I met another wise elder who told me of a man who speaks an old language that is the root of language on Earth. Later than that, while dancing the Soul-Fire Dance, I would hear this Universal Language issuing forth from my singing heart.) I realized that an open heart and a 'SUPERIOR' command of just one language, English, would be sufficient to reach more than a third of the world and if I ever had something to say worth repeating, then someone in the 2 billion could translate for the rest. I was born fortunately, into an English speaking family.] I read the dictionary three times one year and started collecting old philosophy dictionaries. I poured through encyclopedic compilations of quotes of eminent historical figures. After all, why not throw King Solomon into the mix with Aristotle and Buddha. Francis Bacon's Great Instauration meets Richard Feynman. I'm given 'Programming and Meta-Programming the Human Biocomputer' by John (the dolphin man) Lilly. He writes in detail about 'the limitations of the mind that are to be transcended' and he builds a psychological system akin to Jacob's Ladder. A model of the mind. He ends up doing a lot of work with ketamine and becomes certain that carbon based life is evolving toward silicon based life, long before 'Terminator.' *[Around age 23, I try ketamine one, and only one time. I do a 'bump.' I have to sit by myself at a table. There's a pitcher of Ice-T that I can't drink or hold. Near the dance floor, where a few people were dancing, the inside of the bar has become a translucent 'black box,' made of blue and pink neon bars, floating in an empty black space. A void. The 'people' are literally pink or blue neon dancing stick figures on a bottomless black floor. The couple girls are pink and the dudes are blue. My perception locked in stupour, 'I' am trying to shake out of the grips of this slow motion spiral. I had learned to always keep the idea "It's all in your head" firmly anchored and from this anchor I would let out the tether on my experimental consciousness.] I ceaselessly patrolled the engineering, medical and humanities libraries and would read through all the academic journals I could get my hands on. Non-linear dynamics, neural networking, biopsychology, the history of ideas, medical engineering, computer modelling, mathematical modelling schema, consciousness models of every sort, religious and spiritual practises, stories of transformation and magic. Truly I was going to become one about whom it is said: "He is one who knows all." This belief was critically threatened when I came across the genetics journals. The models of genes and their behavioural expressions seemed to me to be just abstract and wispy enough to slip through my grasp, but in an inspired moment I saw a way to 'get the gist' of it. I heard that as a young man my DNA expression would wax a peak of 60% male and as an older man would wane to a valley of 40% male expression. This meant I would be more like dad as a youth and more like mom in my later years. I thought this interesting as it seemed to be related to my own individuation process, of separating mom and dad from Kris. I found it interesting that DNA expression changed over time. It seemed that not only thoughts, feelings, and personality but even identity, changed over time. If I am DNA, my foundation is sand. It seemed everyone I knew, every time I saw them had a book or magazine, article or essay for me to read and I just read and read. The university was running out of knowledge. I expanded into the esoteric bookshop. I bought a deck of Tarot Cards called the Alchemical Tarot which described a process of spiritual perfection called Alchemy. Astrology, and the I Ching were for me, as was a book called 'Your Psychic Powers and How to Develop Them.' Everywhere I could see the model of the psyche emerging. *The I Ching- I find a book that becomes to me like The Oxford Companion to Religion, The Oxford Companion to Philosophy and Dr. John C. Lilly's work--- The Man of Many Qualities-A Legacy of the I Ching. (this is a 'way out there' synchronistic link but, as you may imagine, this had great meaning to me and would link into the Sri Vidya opal-unfolding.... My dad is Ken, grandpa K'an, family name K'un (Kuhn actually) and I'm the Sun (Son). Now this cute little side note means that half the I Ching names my grandfather, father and me. It's a bit of a stretch but there it is.{K'an, Ken, K'un, Sun}.... .....*an aside within an aside- Grandpa (Conrad) got in a car accident when he was in his 40's. He hurt his neck and bones had to be fused. For the next 40 years of his life, he would sleep sitting upright on a rocking chair, as laying flat was too much strain on his permanently craned neck. He was like a 'Dzogchen-er.' He gave me a gold and onyx ring once. He said the onyx represents 'finding the answers within.' It has a scratch that I can't polish away. I remember a soccer tournament in Toronto, Grandpa ('Poppie,' or K'an) finally came to the last game, on Sunday. We didn't win the championship and I played poorly. I was super embarassed as it took some work getting him to come out and see his son's son finally play. I said "I didn't play as well as I can." Poppie says: "Kris, don't worry, you played as well as you could today." I was incredibly mortified but later saw these words as mundane Yoda advice from a seasoned soul. Hamilton was running out of knowledge and I expanded into the libraries in Toronto and learned of 'interdepartmental lending' through the library at Brock. Here I was tapped into the knowledge available in the 'Golden Horseshoe,' and through that link, to ALL the libraries. When I first read Goethe's Faust, the dense poetic structure was actually too much for comprehension but I saw a 'peer.' *I learned about 'Corporate chartering' and conceived of 'The Corporate Ownership Chart.' I wanted to take all the major corporations and pin down who owned what in the world and maybe thereby establish some legitimate currency that would be a foundation for a stable and economy. I thought: 'Why not Rothschild and Rockefeller Rands, oh let's call em R&R Rands. Maybe we'll do Brunei and Bush Bucks, Papal Pounds and Royal Rubles. Throw in something for the people like Yin Yen and Yang Yen and that should keep everyone happy. I'm pretty sure those would be some stable currencies that would always hold their value.' I could see that by myself, this task was unfeasible. During this time I was working on launching a website called: 'CanadaWebGovernment.com' where citizens would have access to direct democracy by way of realtime referenda that could decide the issues of the day. I didn't realize at first that this was philosophically empty and technically risky what with computer hackers and Diebold machines to mess up the vote(I had read Jo Stalin). Some of the people I met during this time I wanted to recruit for the new political party I was forming. In lieu of writing the 'If I Were Prime Minister, I would...' essay, I made a list: '25 Points for the Revitalization of Canada.' I was literally tearing at my breast, restraining myself from "NAILING IT ON THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS." I was going to convene the 'Diet of the Worms.' I began a list of NGO's that I would memorize and index by cause, to deepen my understanding of the transnational political lobbying landscape. <*>Some of my friends had convinced me to go to a rave. Not one to mess around, I went out to the mall and bought a DEA T-shirt, died my hair peroxide blonde and went to 'the house.' I chewed two and a half grams of mushrooms and went to the rave. (I touch here upon the link between drugs and the spirit(notice the small 's'). Elsewhere I return to 'the scene of the crime' to 'do over' those experiences that were drug assisted in the first place. Most of the experiences of high order awareness, would occur later when drugs had become a memory. In fact I would do a few fast-athons to 'burn out any possible residual molecules of any nefarious substances that may have been hiding in some fat cells somewhere in my body.' *This bears a tangent on the detour: I had this samskaric intuition, a notion that somehow my very strong body needed to be weakened to loosen the muscles and joints and allow all the strength and tension that had 'accumulated' to fall away. I figured: 'all those times I was running and preparing for the last 'gauntlet stretch,' when the possibility of being overwhelmed during extreme fatigue would occur, I would bear down so hard for the fight, that I thought this knot of feeling and thinking and memories, should be unwound. That the actual muscle strength was a measure of 'scarring.' This last part, I see is not true. It is easier to be a Patanjali, if you stay flexible from youth. >>>>>Too long of an aside. The narrative thread is flapping in the breeze. So I'm getting close to the door of the rave, police and security beefcake everywhere and I'm 'starting to catch.' So I take some vitamins and the capsule that the pharmacology students made (pure MDMA and some serotonin precursor) and go in. An hour later my toes are tapping and they won't stop. I started to dance like a native doing the Fire Dance. A wild banshee doing the Smoke Dance. For eight hours I dance and dance 'stopping' only for water. Then something very interesting happened. After five hours I remember feeling like I was flying. The joy had become stabilized and I could start to gather up my wits a little. The dancing went on and a song by Delirium and Sarah McLaughlin came on..."Give me Release.....Comfort me..." I can't tell you....Everybody has experienced at least once, unbelievable laughter and unbelievable tears. I was at emotional and physical peak and would not have believed that something beyond this could exist. When the "Give me...... Release"... hit the inner space it was as if the opposite of the breakup pain happened and this opposite was multiplied by the 'Pearl Jam 'Release Me' Bliss.' The awareness didn't flee inward, it came out. I started 'gapping'. My awareness was flickering back and forth from above the crowd to within my body. My inner body outlooking awareness started to slow time down. Everybody seemed to be moving in slow motion all together. I could see and feel with breathtaking and beautiful clarity that all our hearts were beating as one. The idea that came with this semi out of body experience was 'If I had 400 people the likes of these who could move with me, I can take over the planet.' This feeling of Over-unity, of blissful communion with 'the other' was of such intense power that I decided right there to 'not go near ecstasy again for at least six months' as I knew that I liked it too much. I remember thinking: "maybe if I could get 'out of body' above again, and then maybe while up there, I could get further out of 'out of body.' Maybe, if I get 'out of, out of body' I could set up a 'platform' in the sky from where I could control myself." The marionetteer of the puppetteer. At this point the first of three major sleep deprivation experiments began. Back at Brock I had the good fortune to pick up a speed reading book and started practising. I wasn't convinced at all until a friend tested me by giving me a short little 6 page xeroxed women's studies article that she was being tested on that day. I read it in about 30 seconds (I'm not an exceptional speed reader) and she started asking me the questions that she was going to be asked on her test. She was flabbergasted at me because I answered the questions better than she thought she could, even after studying all night. This really wasn't a big deal because I knew in advance it was POSSIBLE. The pure genius I met in first year, could scan a page long calculus question in one second flat and begin explaining it immediately. He told me that he despised high school because "they could only give him 99.9% (in every class in all five years) because there wasn't room on the report card for 100.0%." He was similar to what Ramachandran must be like. Anyway, I heard that if you stayed awake long enough you would hallucinate. I wasn't entirely clear on the differences between visualization, hallucination, apparitions and meditation, so I thought I'd find out. I also heard that there was some Tibetan sect who practised Dzogchen meditation, a practise whereby the practitioner attenuates their consciousness in controlled ways so as never to sleep. If consciousness is a doorway and sleep is like closing the door, then Dzogcheners would be awake enough to go under the door or through the keyhole. Unlike poor Sisyphus whose rock rolls all the way down the mountain when he sleeps, my rock would just keep going up, up, up if I never slept. In my quest to know everything this was a great breakthrough. Speed reading+Dzogchen would give me an advantage over 99.99% of the rest of the world in the quest. I thought: "Cool. Let's find out." From the year as a monk I remembered that I could displace sleep by engaging my attention. Normally sleep occupies a certain many hours each day. Eliminate sleep and a lot of new time is freed up. I just needed to keep busy to stay awake. So one Friday morning I woke up, went to school at Brock and then on to soccer practise at night, then work at the Hard Rock Cafe. After practise, I went home and just read and walked around all night. It was very strange at first to see the daylight and just keep going. Saturday I had a game with the university team. Saturday night I worked as a waiter at the Hard Rock Cafe, Sunday I had a 2:00 game in Guelph then a 5:00 game with my normal club team. After the game, went to a party with beer and mushrooms. Now at this point it's 8:30 Sunday night, I've been up since 7a.m Friday, had two 8 hour shifts as a waiter, 6.5 hours of very intense high level soccer, and been studying hard in the intervals. I get to the party and go to the bathroom immediately. The wall was swimming, there were subtle sparks visible, not the kind that appear when one is dizzy. I looked at this white wall and hues of pink and blue became obvious. I realized that I better move on. I opened my first beer and ate a couple mushroom caps. Not five minutes later the unmistakable onset had begun. I went back to the bathroom and there was an iridescent lion looking at me out of the white wall. This was amazing but I was a little disappointed in myself for I felt the mushrooms somehow tainted an otherwise semi-impressive feat (fear not ole Psilo and I patched it all up a long while back, though we sleep in different rooms now). >>>>>Somewhere in here I read the 'Golden Dawn' water to wine trick, and thought: "HmM!" I read about 'Thelemic Law' and the Nath Tradition. Their great concepts of clearing the mind and body of Karma, Kleshas, and Konditioning all tied back into the samskara notion that was so important to me. I found myself at year's end jobless, friendless(everyone went home), girlfriendless(everyone) and soon to be homeless and hungry. I did not want to go home to mother for the summer. Luckily, my sister was also at McMaster and was soon going home. She had a lease that went two months into the summer. The rent was paid and there were forageables in the house. I had two months to be alone. *It must have been the end of April. Like an absolute idiot I developed a taste for hydrogen cyanide and had, at the age of 23, started smoking cigarettes. I was running out of money and forms of smokeables. I remember thinking: 'if you really want to find out about inner space, try fasting.' I read that Leonardo DaVinci had explored a method whereby he would plumb the creative regions of the twilight dream consciousness in the interval between wakefulness and sleep by sitting and holding a spoon with plates scattered all about, he would start to nod off, drop the spoon and the clatter would reawake him. Since he was always engaged in creative pursuits he would often emerge with an idea from the dream world. I would do the same. I had heard of auras and astral travel, NDEs and OBEs, however at the time the concept of 'Kundalini Awakening' was still on the periphery. I sat on my front porch and a cardinal was whistling on a lightpost. I whistled back, adding one more trill. He whistled back adding one more trill to my additional trill; upping the ante if you will. This went back and forth and he came closer until we were sitting only two feet apart, he on the railing with his tail feathers a-flicking and me on the lawn chair, trilling away in our duelling whistles. It was very exciting! One of a few very neat experiences with wildish life. (On the flip side, I was with a group of family members at the 'cottage up north' and we were walking down a long unlit laneway one night and all of us saw a pair of green eyes floating (about the height of a deer) in the bush. ALL of us saw these eyes FLOATING, unattached even to a shadow. We all stood for awhile, the girls were a little scared. Later grandpa would tell me that one night out fishing, he saw a 'fleet' of UFOs.) So I decide to fast and sleep deprive myself in order to learn Dzogchen (go ahead and laugh, this definitely deserves it). I had not purely fasted as I still took Kool-Aid, and Orange Juice! with the odd slice of bread every few days(I justified the slackness as the 'Middle Way'). I had thus starved myself for 23 days when I decided to: "Bring on the Dzogchen and Leonardo's plates." The first few days were no biggie staying awake. I knew that a purist would want someone there to keep testing to see if I was awake but I realized that each time someone pulls you out of that state, your body system startles to address the intrusion. I was no stranger to 'the nods' and being unceremoniously awoken from them. This constant startling would drain me far quicker and I didn't think I could make it all the way. Anyway there was no one around to help so I was winging it. All the really interesting stuff happened on day 30 and 7 of the food and sleep deprivation days. I heard later that there is some 7 day border line that once crossed, makes one certifiable. For someone who didn't expect what was about to happen, I can say that I would have been in much bigger trouble if I didn't have the "It's all in your head" mantra to use as a shield and a lot of book reading to 'ground me.' I had a high backed chair where I 'meditated' with the plates around. I had gone through the clatter a few times and it was very upsetting. The sensitivity level to sound was nearly off the charts so it was like whacking a gong behind the head of a Zen Master during his rainy retreat. I was not happy. OK-I'm sitting there, six months of stretching and I can finally cross my legs comfortably. Sitting in the chair and one second everything is... well... a mess. I'm exhausted beyond anything I've ever felt. But there is a subtle inner breathing space that is holding on even as my body droops. I straighten up and immediately am in the subtle inner breathing space. Then I realize my feet are protruding from my waist. This is very strange, but it gets better. My feet are coming up! Next I can feel my feet protruding through my abdominal area as if some ghostly feet are rising (not climbing) rising through my body. The feet are standing on my abdomen protruding from under my chest. They're still rising. They are coming out of my neck and doing a back and forth jumping jack between coming out of my neck and standing on my shoulders. My awareness here became aware of the subtle pyramidal mechanism controlling this and I stopped the feet from jumping jacks and just let them move up. The feet were standing on my head. Now I had spoken to a wise old man once who told me in reference to the Fight Club Movie -"Be careful if an invisible friend ever becomes visible because if you come to rely on him and he leaves, you might be in some trouble." I decided to 'pull my soul back into my body.' I became comfortable with letting it rise out and then reeling it back in. After doing this back and forth practise about ten times, the leap of faith. In moments like this you know what serious serious means. You don't lightly let go of your soul. But it was so light. And I was looking down at my thinning hair and had to look away, such was the vanity. I knew to check somewhere I could not see. I looked on top of the IKEA bookshelf and there was some receipt with a jotting of a page number on it. I had the confirmation. I 'Peter Panned' around the room a couple times and then came to the window. I wasn't sure if it was such a good idea to go out. After all, I was pretty lucky so far but I didn't want to risk having to figure out how to break glass as a ghost. I came back above my body and just hovered there a second. There was blackness, then my visual field returned to a source of witnessing, within my body. It was really neat and I later would come to think of that event as a Kundalini Rising(though not complete awakening by any stretch). (After the 'Big One' my heart in my chest felt so soft as it moved and squeezed. There is a meditation on 'Gurus feet in one's chest.' It is to open the space within for something like this to happen). This OBE was neat but the biggest, shiniest gem I pulled out of the sea during this time was an idea. Actually it was sort of a samskara. It was an inhabitant of the formless unconscious that briefly made an appearance in awareness in the form of a Eureka idea in words. It was the frontier between the root of the 'prayer wheel columns' and that which lies in the cave at the bottom of the sea. The idea was: "Fast and the body will burn every last bit of fat it can find before it starts wasting away the protein. Braincells are insulated with fat. Eventually that insulation will start being used up and the wires will start to cross. Enough wires cross and you see the light. This is the secret of 40 days and forty nights in the desert." I heard that people used the word 'God' to fill in the blanks in their understanding. I had heard that when we dream at night our unconscious is sorting out the previous day's events for us. I heard that enlightenment was like sorting out a whole life in an instant. I figured that enlightened beings were as close to the ultimate as anything I could imagine, and might know everything. I thought that if I was going to be like them, I would have to stretch my field of understanding in every direction so that when the flash came, there would already be built a frame wide enough to contain 'everything,' and when God filled in the blanks, I would see everything so clearly that I would be able to come back and tell everyone else how to see Him too. I had fasted for thirty days and I knew beyond any doubt at all that I needed to summon the will to overcome hunger for 40 days and the quest is finished. I could see umpteen methods as to how to refine and perfect the achievement of omniscience during the Final assault on Mount Doom. Only one problem. I didn't want to give up drugs and studies and the hope of being again with my woman. If I was going to be enlightened it wasn't going to be yet. Some of my friends loved my eloquence and would give me free drugs and booze just to get me to talk and describe what was happening. The first time I tried cocaine I was immediately tapped into one of the highest circuits available though I didn't know it at the time. I called it the 'skull ring-zing' a standing wave of intense pleasure sensations around the inside of the skull that was "kind of like a halo." The neurochemistry of this halo drew me along. I knew for sure, that I had felt glimmerings of this ring in study, extreme anger, or running long distances, but never so strong and clear. I knew that I could get the halo fired up through hard work but, like the monkey with the electrode in his pleasure centre, I too would choose 'pleasure' over hard work and food. Let me say a little more about the link between the halo and my first cocaine experience. I feel it important to be clear on this matter. I went home that night and the 'halo' had caught my attention, such an intense exhilaration. In my life there have been moments of utter clarity that have been so subtle that have left me with unshakable conviction, though the source seemed only an intuition. This was one of those times. I could see that with this 'firing' of the halo, I had 'spent' a good portion of whatever it was I had stored up to set that fire. A serotonin-dopaminergic crystal ring made of a 23 year old lifetime of study and forward momentum, was cracked, broken and drained out. This intuition was confirmed as I chased after the drug, in the feeble hope of the return of the 'halo.' Like the Metatron from Dogma said, 'angels aren't supposed to drink and drug.' Didn't know that, but it wouldn't have mattered. But, then again, the inner guide was clear. "How would I ever save Canada and the World if all I know about life is what the silver spooners know?" And thus my voluntary descent into hell on behalf of others began. Any drug counsellor would see through this flimsy rationalization and I would be inclined to agree if it wasn't a true event that carried such unavoidable weight. *The blade of grass. I had a mini satori once working with 'the world in a blade of grass' notion. I was doing an urban spacing project in downtown Hamilton. The air quality used to be so bad that the AQI index ceased being published in the newspaper. (During the summer of 2001, there were 17 days in a row of 'smog worse than LA or Beijing.') Tasty yellow sulfur air. There are rows of brownhouses with front yards about ten feet by ten feet. I looked down the street and of fifteen houses in a row, there were 7 people cutting their 'lawns.' I couldn't believe that there were 7 lawnmowers going to cut 700 square feet of grass! Madness! 'Why don't these people just talk to each other and rotate. Eventually the mowers will break down and they can be tossed. When there's no mowers left, just plant the trees, shrubs and perennials. Maybe even a couple veggies or seeds for the birds and butterflies.' Immediately I could 'see' all the front lawns with simple little Zen rock gardens with a couple perennials, a fruit tree and a shrub or two and it seemed to make way more sense than 'the lawn.' You know: 3d chlorophyll layering rather than 'the carpet.' I would often think of this little event as a blade of grass to ponder. Later I would have my six degrees of separation, blade of grass epiphany in the most mundane way imagineable. A Tim Horton's coffee cup lid. The plastic lid. So many people and processes did I see connected to this coffee cup ring and I would just say: "hm" to myself. Around this time I had a dream one night. I dreamt I was walking into the ballroom of The Queen's Landing (a very luxurious place owned by a Taiwanese billionaire) in the nearby small town of Niagara-on-the-Lake. There was a reception crowd of all the philosopher's. There were robes, turbans, and kimonos and 17th century French outfits with ludicrous hats and the like. It was like Raphael's painting of the School of Athens. Just with characters from a longer time frame. I walked into this room with my mother and sister and all turned to look at me. I was silent. I sat bolt upright from sleep to 100% wakefulness in a nanosecond and was immediately soaked in a cold sweat. The terror at being face to face with all the great philosopher's of all time and having NOTHING to say. This was like what it must have been like for Descartes when he got the idea of the 'evil deceptive demon' and the 'brain in a vat' analogy. Terror. Horror. Doubt amidst the certainty. The fear that one faces at the end of a wasted life. Also around this time I let a 'doctor' convince me that 'I was bi-polar' or had 'bipolarism' or was in possession of this putative 'disease' though never did I believe that my nature to love AND hate, feel joy AND sorrow, to be sometimes introverted and sometimes extroverted, to be led by my feelings today and my thoughts tomorrow, to be Bumblebee here and Optimus Prime there, that these things were somehow abnormal or wrong. Hadn't these 'authorities' read Nietzsche?! How about Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi? Didn't these idiots know that the main trait possessed by the genius, is being able to balance antithetical forces, the very distance separating the poles contained, the measure of genius? Sure I was a little 'out of balance' but I was sent to save the world and besides how do you expect me to feel after I wrestle a comet from the sky? The scum in the white coat wanted to 'pathologize' my great dream, The Great Dream of Humanity! 'Delusions of Grandeur'? What does one know of Grandeur, he who has never had the hand of God caress his cheek? Who is this 'ground-dweller' who criticizes my flight? (Later I would despise people who wanted to 'ground' me. "Just because you can't fly doen't mean I shouldn't.")Who cares if I suffered foolishly, that's my choice and besides "Of course I am a mess. Who can put all these forces together and not be a mess. Icarus fell from the sky. What will 'I KRIS' do? Wait and see!" I was taking all the liberties offered me. I realized this wasn't what bothered those around me, it was the INTENSITY of this AC/DC dynamo that was frightening.(If you have an image of a scientist in your mind don't let it be a 'mad one.') True the waves ebb and flow but this was natural to me(more on this later). *More drug tales ahead. I was living in Hamilton and had met my Yoko Ono. *(Tangent alert! She was a Philippino girl. I bring this up to illustrate a broader point. I've heard that I was given the name Kristen Kenneth Kuhn to a WASP family, in the year of the dragon. I am born smiling, handsome with pointy eyebrows. I ask mom: "Why did you give me the name Kristen?" It's a boy's name. You might have been David, Zach or John. "Why ***!?" Dad:"Son. People born with special names often live special lives." In his defense, the worst thing I ever heard him say about a brown skinned brother, that could be even remotely construed as racist, (after he head butted me in a soccer game), was: "Damn coconut head!" And to be fair, his head was harder than a coconut. And in 'my' defense, I clearly recall sitting in the library at A.N. Myer reading 'What Manna,' er, I mean 'What Manner of Man', a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. This book left me feeling like Ramana Maharshi when he read Puriya Purinam. But 'What about the zealots?' Immediately I was into Malcolm and Marcus. These black 3M, my counter-balance to the white 3M (Melchizedek, Metatron and Michael) that I would later invoke nearing the high fugue). ... So the Philippino girl. I added the above bit as to allay any fears of the outer garments I sport. And to make it apparent that I'm not some racist fool (I'm not a racist genius or anything like that) I add this short bit below. The Philippino girl. Until I was with her, I broadly classified the 'yellow man' as Asian. After the following, I could tell a Thai, from a Laotian, A Nepalese from a Mongolian, The Ainu From the Inuit, I mean this little event showed me the swathing seamless spectrum of the only race. The human race. I saw the red,yellow,black, white 'Foundation' and the 'seams' between. I saw a stone sculpture of some 'Asoka-like' Buddha king from Ancient Phillipines. In this image I could clearly see every Phillipino person as if this face was the source of the whole family branch of 'Philippino's.' I'm not saying "all Phillipinos look the same," but rather I'm saying "the face on the statue looks like all Phillipinos." I could see what the king sees. I saw a family tree millenia deep in an instant. I saw the waxing and waning of populations, spreading and separating, colliding and mixing. I could feel the very fountainhead of ambition that drives such a man, that inspires such a sculptor.) Yoko-She was a good fit for me at the time and after the intense agony of losing the first sweetheart, I was happy in my head and heart with the 'idea' that she being like Yoko made me like John. We had been together for four years and the honeymoon was over. I didn't like being single(myself) and was living with a friend in a very nice house. I still went to see her where she tended bar and much to my shock one night, her 'boyfriend,' who wasn't me, was there at the bar. I was disgusted, sick to the stomach. He had tattooes, rotten teeth and a bad haircut (all of which made me look down, down at him). I was incensed but he was actually bigger than me. So I went to the gym everyday for a month and packed on twenty pounds of muscle, every exercise geared towards taking out this judo black belt. I went to the bar "I told him and his friends they should start praying because they were all about to die." All of them were bigger than me, but if fists started flying I knew the ball of rage that I was about to unleash on these poor saps, well the paramedics wouldn't be coming, it would be the coroner. Such was the boiling fury. I told him what I was going to do. He said "I don't think you are." And he was right. I'm really very good natured though at least one person would beg to differ. He knew why I was so upset and this simple Jedi trick stopped a massacre. Like Buddha and the charging elephant. I was the elephant. I went away to get peanuts, well actually I went to get a 'magic' eight ball, some booze and some beer and went home alone. *This part is kind of spooky. Fear not. Ever. I was sitting watching episode after episode, season after season of The Soprano's. Sniffing and swigging, sniffing and swigging, then staggering. I was sitting watching the TV and I heard clear as if it were my dad calling me: "Kris." I went cold, then hot. I thought my friends who lived in the basement were whispering through the vents messing with me. I opened the door leading downstairs and the light was off. I sat down again still thinking it was probably them. Then again. "Kris." I was on my feet storming downstairs pounding on their door. My buddy came to the door, robe untied, hair bedraggled, eyes obviously forcing themselves open from a sleep. The moment I looked in his eyes I knew he was not the source of the voice. I told him what happened and we both searched the house. I vehemently apologized and he went back to bed. Now I was humiliated from my idiocy at the bar, a mental mess due to cocaine, beer and booze, a little disturbed due to the voice, and embarassed at having unduly awoken my good friend. I sat back down in front of the TV and when I leaned over to do a line I saw out of the corner of my eye a true blue demonic manifestation. An apparition from the shadows. It was bigger and thicker than a Rottweiler with an exaggerated chest like a cartoon bulldog. It had silvery shiny incurving needle like teeth, the kind you see on those frightening monster fish found at the bottom of the ocean. Once before I had been walking down a lonely country road and an attack dog came flying from around behind a house with a woman in tow begging me to run for my life. At that moment I was very angry at something else that happened at a family get together at a nearby farm. I had left the party and was on the first mile of about a fifteen or twenty mile walk home. A flock of about fifty goldfinches had just flown by on the left. On the right, the dog comes a running and I couldn't care less. I was completely unafraid and not one pheromone of fear was to be found. I didn't even pay attention to the dog. I refused to give attention in my mind to the possibility of attack. The dog came up behind and beside me. My hand back-swung and glanced the pups snout and he yelped a bit. My hand had back-swung a second time and stroked his face. I had been moving so quick that we had already become friends before I even knew I touched him. The stature of my being at this moment was such that it was as likely for a lamb to attack a lion as it would have been for that dog to mess with me. Anyway this demon dog in my buddies living room is standing at the opposite end of the L-couch from where I'm sitting with only a glass table between us. I dare not make eye contact. I see it clear and remember that other dog and my refusal to let the fear happen. I moved casually like I was just going to pick up something from the table and quickly sprung to my feet with beer bottle in hand ready for war. The dog had retreated. Now my heart is so loud in my ears I can hear nothing else. In this life or death gamble I am all in. I stalk it to the front door carefully coming around the corner and up the stairs knowing full well that there are eight corners I have to turn and around one of 'em is a little lionish beast with teeth...teeth...and he has the high ground. There is no time to wake up my friend. Hopefully he hears the thunderous footsteps overhead. Yelling and shouting isn't going to help. I get up the stairs and close the doors then I check each room. The last is the bathroom. I am so scared reaching for the handle I have to pause. I know that I am so jacked that the extra startle that's going to happen when I see him and have to move, that startle might finish me before I start. I steady myself the best I can and go in like a banshee. It was a very long one second before I realized there was nothing there. After such an adrenaline surge I lay down on the floor and just let the violent shaking take hold of me and I moved in and out of resistance against the shaking. It wasn't quite a seizure, it was the aftereffects of an adrenaline overload. I had been in a couple fights and afterwards always felt awful. But this was a new low. *OK the demon story is over. At this point I went further down in my quest to know. Down where I would find my bottom. Freebase, Crack. The crack found a hungry home in me for a couple years and I quickly lost all my possessions(this wasn't punishment for me as it 'did me the favour of freeing me from my attachment to material goods'). One night, my new girlfriend and I were out tearing up the city. It had been at least three days without sleep and untold amounts of booze and crack(stimulant drug use brings about amazing alcohol tolerance until you die) who knows what it was (I've tried to recontruct this night using many means) but I co snapped. Flipped. Black out rage. Not red. Black. The worst and most dangerous state of mind imagineable. I drove around speeding everywhere like a complete lunatic. I drove a hundred km/hr around an apartment building. When I got to the front, three guys were pouring out a stream of profanities that would make a sailor blush. I jumped out of the car and punched the frame above the door so hard that it put a knuckle sized dent in the metal and a metal sized dent in my knuckle. This was (the third coming of the dragon) a very scary event for me for I saw very clearly the truth behind the statement 'Good and Evil dwelleth in the breast of every man.' A rampaging elephant leashed by a thread. This event showed me the NECESSITY of self mastery. I was not long for this world behaving in such a manner. I drove down the streets shrieking at my girlfriend. She got so upset with me she yanked the wheel when I was driving ninety down a city street. I overcompensated and spun the car out 360 and got hold of the spin after the first circle. I was even more furious. I zigged and zagged down the streets but all of a sudden knew I had to pull over. When we spun out, the cigarette heater had disappeared but in the madness it didn't seem important. Well I found the heater burning through my jacket, sweater, T-Shirt, SKIN! I jumped out of the car wiping a shower of sparks from inside my jacket. The madness of it all caught up with me and I started to laugh. The lady wasn't laughing. She was very upset and scared. I went to the gas station and when I pulled in, I felt a feeling. It was a clean, clear, pristine stillness, out of nowhere, and it settled on me. Embraced me. Marvelous Wonder. The bliss that showered down on me here...I pulled into the gas station at 3 am, and my prissy girlfriend, who had never before in her life pumped gas, was summarily 'put out to pump.' Nothing in the world would have made me move from that spot. I was just looking through the window into the sky and the connection with the infinitely full emptiness that lay beyond was so strong that nothing was worth severing the connection. For fifteen minutes I sat there. When the girlfriend jumped in the car and started heaping abuse on my head, I was unmoved. Truly if she were on fire, I would not have pushed her out of the flames, such was the bliss (and I loved that girl DEARLY!) The moment arrived when I could once again part from the place in which I had become rooted in boundless joy. We drove to a friend's house and were offered a mattress in the attic. Over the next year I would look at sleeping in parks overnight as 'an adventure' and lose even the car we were living in. Pardon this dovetailing diversion before we return to the park. I went to see a wise woman. She once told me "If you ever find a religion you like, get away from it." I shared with her a string of three events I'd seen. 1)One night I was sitting on a picnic table and noticed an enormous moth on a nearby wall. It was almost bird sized. I stood up and walked toward it. As I neared it, a bat snatched it from the wall. I was aghast. 2)The next day, I'm sitting on the same picnic table. On the grass there was a mother robin feeding her squawking baby. She kept flying off catching worms and returning to feed the baby that had decided to sit in the grass. The picnic table was under a tree, and as the mother came in to land for the last time, a hawk flew between my head and the tree and snatched mother up, taking her across the street to the nest, leaving the baby bird chirping in the grass...NO! I wailed and shrieked and shrilled. 3)Walking past a meadow. There's a grasshopper flitting to and fro, evading a sparrow. Once, twice, three times the bird dashes and darts and snatches, and each time the grasshopper is a breath ahead of the parry. The bird breaks off the chase and the grasshopper escapes. YES! The wise woman says: "Ah. You're identifying with the victim. You see Kris, there is this trap a lot of people get into when they're young. They get stuck playing victim, villain, or rescuer and perpetually chase their own tail. It's a 'love' game. But beyond love and fear is indifference, and through acceptance of indifference comes equanimity and equipoise." I would not have been more stunned if Yoda appeared and gave me the speech about 'anger, hate, cruelty and the dark side.' *Back to the park with the girlfriend. One night she and I sat on the rim of a fountain at a public park. Both of us knew we both had to change and the only question was together or not. Somehow she wanted me to move to Toronto with her. I sat there in the park with her, as confused and lost as a man could be and I looked up at the sky and said "Please. If I'm supposed to go to Toronto, give me a sign." And no sooner had these words fallen from my lips then a very bright green shooting star shot east to west basically pointing in the direction of Toronto. Our eyes met and we knew the answer. I was going to Toronto. The BIG Guy said so. (This was a very special event to me as Tecumseh, a Pawnee-Cree Warrior Hero had a green shooting star appear at his birth. To me this syncromystical event was a source of great auspiciousness. As most who've fought with drug or alcohol abuse can tell you, there is no geographical cure. I brought my full fledged addiction into the most crack infested neighbourhood in Toronto hoping for a new start. Well I can save you a lot of painful and boring war stories here. But one of them bears repeating. *I had been in Toronto for a year. I had graduated from basehead to crackhead, a fine line of discrimination one not worry oneself over. My girl had left with the dog and it was just me and the dealer. Nobody was going to get in my way of having a really terrible time. It had been advantageous to coax the dealer to come live with me after his apartment had been raided. I was delighted at the endless supply of free crack. He was highly intelligent and a highly empathic individual, like many other dealers I had met. In a crack house there are people always coming and going. Prostitutes were common. I loved the opportunity of hanging out and chatting with prostitutes. On day three of a sleepless bender a discussion about the nature of life began between me and this woman. She was probably someone who may have finished ninth or tenth grade in high school and I was throwing everything I had ever studied at her. After we had talked for 24 hours my dealer left a pile of stuff on the table for us and left. He couldn't stand listening anymore. We kept chatting and though she was not terribly smart, interrupted every sentence I uttered and was constantly acting coy, the quality of the discussion was first rate. For two full days we went on talking. A 48 hour discussion, unbroken, between two people. I called it 'my first fillibuster.' At the end of the two days an idea started circling, just below the surface of awareness but causing perceptible waves as it started gathering up the strings of thought of the past two days. The columns were going to come out of the water! I could see that the whole talk was building to a climax. And when the thought finally broke through into words she was still interrupting. With such vehemence did I hang on to the Leviathan that was rising up out of the black sea of samsara, I had to plug my ears and simply shout over her and in a two minute barrage of about 15 runon sentences I summarized the whole history of culture and civilization. I explained the functioning of the Higher Law, sorted out 'samskara' and expained the source of all religion, philosophy, politics, psychology, the cybernetic future, everything. I was out of the atmosphere but I knew that it made perfect sense. If any dean in the world had heard even two sentences of this I could be a professor at the elitist, elite academy. This was like Dennis McKenna's exposition on the inner meaning of the I Ching after the 14 day ayahuasca marathon, while swinging naked from the bell tower in that little Peruvian church. It wasn't until six days had elapsed that I fell into a short 4 hour nap. When I awoke my dealer was furious that some drugs had disappeared when I was sleeping. He was unclear about whether it was me who stole the crack while I was sleeping which, incidentally, he had been supplying me free for two weeks, or if his estranged girlfriend who had been running around with some other guy who he vaguely remembered seeing the night before, had taken it. He was very clear that one of us, his girlfriend or me, were going to 'catch a bullet' that day. I said to him that I was going to leave as I didn't want him ten years hence to be sitting in a jail cell ticked that he killed the 'wrong' one. He didn't seem to object. Only problem was I had nowhere to go. I was walking down the street and walked past a church. I thought that I could 'find sanctuary' here but the doors were locked. Fury. (To be fair, the church probably locks the door to keep too many folks like me from hanging around. But this was worse than the priest telling my grandma to go back home to the alcoholic who was beating her and her children every day.) I was ready for mass murder. The heat calmed a little. My available options were 1) Start Stealing, or 2) Start Hooking. Neither of these two things were going to happen so I was really up against it. I sat on my balcony looking down at the streets of TO. Utter hopelessness and a knock at the door. Panic ensues inside, everybody thinks it's a raid. I go to the door because everyone else is scared to death. I am 'toys in the attic red-lined.' It's my cousin who I hadn't seen in a year. He said: "Nobody's talked to you for awhile, I just came by to see if you needed some help." The thorn from the lion's paw. Now my friends. My brothers and sisters who may glean some knowledge from what I share here. This was heaven sent. I literally looked like a concentration camp survivor. 6'3 145 lbs (I was a football captain). He fed me and put me on the bus. I went straight to detox for ten days. Rested for another 5 weeks before heading off to Rehab. I spent 72 days with some other hard cases and started to see what 'inner work' meant. I learned a very powerful lesson there. No matter what awful thing a person has done, somebody else has done it too, and the doer of the awful thing is always someone, to whom something really awful, has happened. This does not justify it, but it goes a way to explaining it and preventing its repeat. I could see the truth from Gibran's 'Prophet' before me. I also realized that, clinging to my prayer beads in silence, my hate and anger and bitterness and toxic memories were hurting everybody I loved, but hurting ME the worst. I was told that when somebody risks letting open their inner heart to the outer world they may suffer, but more often than not the courage of one is contagious and the willingness to stand in the line of fire with no thought for your own well being can bring out big, big healing in the hearts of others who've suffered likewise. This helped me to 'get on with it,' clear some samskara and do some internal heavy lifting. I came to dearly love a bunch of other men, some of whom I would have never bonded with before even with my self perceived tolerance. The more one comes to know the more one sees the only appropriate response to life is gratitude. Now I would love to say I walked away from the crack and it all ended there. But I still wasn't done. I made it for only six weeks. Thankfully the slope to the bottom was so steep now that falling all the way wouldn't take long. I was back in it, living from one hotel to the next, working in a kitchen and as a landscaper. I got free food from the kitchen so at least I had the option to eat. The girlfriend got tired of it. She had been clean almost a year. It wasn't long until I lost my job. This really hurt. It was the first job since the Hard Rock Cafe that I liked. I was utterly frustrated with myself. "Come on Kris, you liked that job man! And now she's gone too." I remember the last night in that dirty hotel room like it was yesterday. A friend had come by. He was a junkie (a needle using heroin addict) with HIV. He was eager to explain to me that HIV is not AIDS and I was very happy for him that that is so. Now this night I ran out of stuff and had $50 left to last me for two weeks and then I would have to pay back my $200 payday loan with a paycheck that was not coming. Not to mention the day to day rent that I owed the motelier. I remember standing in front of the mirror thinking "If I ask him for a wack would he give it to me?" Now please understand clearly what I'm saying. I'm saying that I had never touched a needle or heroin and here was my HIV infected friend with a needle and I was thinking about HOW to ask him to poke me with it. When this train of thought became unmasked before the higher awareness that lives within, I just dragged myself out of the bathroom, grabbed the pills and the drugs and some of the money I had, and gave it all to him and asked him to leave. He left. I sat on the bed and put on the hotel TV. There was a music channel and it was playing the song 'Coming Home' by Dallas Green. I knew right there that the crack struggle was over. I barely had the energy to even feel relief, so thinned out had my soul become. I was encouraged to return for a longer stay at treatment but I knew exactly what I did wrong and after that day I wouldn't feel the desire to use again. I spent a week in detox, came out and marched straight back to work. I told my old boss that I was a drug addict and I regretted causing them any inconvenience. I told them that I felt I owed them for giving me a chance in the first place and would very much like the opportunity to finish the job I had started and no pay would be asked for. They refused and hired me back immediately. Now friends, elsewhere is it written about the terrible inner space of the addict. I worked as a landscaper and dishwasher at this retirement home. Washing dishes was literally forced meditation. Every second of every shift I watched my breathing. When I would get distracted away from breath watching, I would watch my thoughts. It was life or death. Don't meditate and lose your job, your mind and your life or just meditate. So meditate I did. Everyday and every night. Morning break I couldn't risk smoking with people as they may say something that could upset me. I would meditate alone, watching my breath rising and falling. I was filled with timebombs and everybody had two grabbing hands always reaching for the wrong wires. I ate quickly, smoked alone and meditated. Afternoon break I would sneak up to the library find a quiet corner and meditate. Watch the breath rise and fall. Identify thoughts. This is helpful or this is not helpful. I watched feelings very closely as to their source and began the careful work of clearing the mindfield, unwiring the dangerous areas. *(This is another 'meta-technique.' Defusing words. Removing emotional content from intellectual content (samskaric mechanics). I took notice primarily of the word "God". When I heard someone say this word I would cringe, the disgust too much to bear. To be able to live in peace, I had to 'defuse' that word. The work I did to pull apart this one word, was like Wittgenstein's Tractatus- Logico-Philosophicus crossed with Korzybski's general semantics. {The best resource though, even better than 'The Cloud of Unknowing' was a book called 'What Do We Mean When We Say God?"} How this word spun me.) ***My friend Steve. His dad is like a statue. Some body carved out of marble. A character from a time long ago with uproarious laughter and a voice that could crack the plates beneath the ground. Steve is Superman Jr. A strange paradox like jumbo shrimp, but it holds. To the trees, he's Paul Bunyan. He's Arnold. An aryan superstar. He likes having a few laughs, fixing cars, and tearing around on 4-wheelers, SkiDoos, SeaDoos, boats, bikes or anything that goes real fast. He offers me a beer. I decline. He asks me: "Kris, you were The King in high school. What happened?!" I say to him "Steve, I'd love to do the 'I get a 30 foot boat, you get a 40 foot' thing, but that doesn't really do it for me anymore. You are a nitroused out Ferrari, miles down the salt flats. I stand here kicking the tires of my rocket car. The engine keeps stalling but don't worry about me brother. When I get it going, it may take awhile to catch up, but you'll see me again." ***The encounter with the American soldier. I respect him, and am curious about his heart. He's won his 'Red Badge of Courage' the old fashioned way. I'm in a healing group. I've been clean awhile and we're talking to a newcomer. He's been fighting in Iraq for five years. He graduated from Harvard Medical School. He can go anywhere. His father, a proud Marine, 'berates the man,' telling him he has a 'duty to his country.' He joins up. Goes over. He tells me about being a medic and his first kill and the few after that, and the wack of times he gunned his way into trouble retrieved his fallen brothers and shot his way out. He doesn't like being a medic and killing people. He tells me that 'We are worse than the Russians in the advance toward Berlin.' He tells me about a time he was blabbing about 'how Canadians are pansies.' His CO sends him to talk to some Highlander infantry captain or St. Pat's Brigade corporal and his opinion of the valour of Canadians is quickly changed. He's been dishonourably discharged.... ((I don't mean to go off on a rant here, but((*Understand. I grew up seeing nothing but what was wrong with America and in this half-sightedness I grew to hate 'The US.' "They say the worst critic of 'The Party' is the zealot." My southern brothers. I thought "How am I going to stop all the evil unless I control the American military?" Unless I become the very six winged lion! I remember the Chinese guy who stood down the tank. As an adolescent I would tell my friends:"If those damn Yanks ever rolled their tanks across that Rainbow Bridge, they would find their Tiannamen Square right there. That bridge would be going down with me and the tank column on it. I don't give a ____ if all that's left of me is a statue on the new bridge! I will overthrow that whole _____ country myself!" Oh how I railed against the corruption, deception and villainy. Watching Canada's resources and economy drained away and value added elsewhere. Health care and law gradually being sent into the 'melting -pot.' Our water, wood and metal migrating away. The commanding heights treacherously squandered and pillaged! "I don't want those planes in MY airspace ANYMORE!" I am incensed. I hear that 'if you come to know everything about even a single blade of grass, you will know all there is to know.' I make WW2 my blade of grass. I studied Adolf and how he came to take over Germany from Austria. I remember Tecumseh and the alliance. I was going to take over America from Canada by one way or another. Like the crazy loon in Braveheart who tells Mel "It's my country." Canada is "my country." I'm seven gen deep here yo! My roots are in the rocks. My blood goes back to Pharaoh. You could say that I liked this thing called 'America' about as much as Abu Nidal, but in reality it was my disappointment. I felt like Nietzsche must have when he lamented: "I looked for the angels in man and found only the apes of their ideals." I loved the 'Founding Fathers' like my own grandfathers. Sheesh there's two houses connected by underground tunnels down the street from where I grew up. This is where the slaves used to hide who escaped north.)) Here I would come against the 'got a better idea?' "I will discover how to build a society. I will find out how to arrange and prioritize the virtues of man as to bring about heaven on earth. I will build my boat and instead of 12 disciples I will make the 144,000 pyramid.")) ...I'm looking at soldier brother. He is in such a bad way. I can't feel anything but his pain. The killer is looking right at me and the killer is looking right at him. He doesn't see it. I'm measuring him. Taking his inventory. 'Can I send millions like him to their death?' The last thing I want this broken man to feel is shame before my fear. He's been dishonourably discharged and as such he's lost his benefits. He can't find any help at home so he's come to Canada. He's in the healing group. We get him clothes, a warm jacket, as many smokes as we can all come up with, pool all our money for him, take him out for food and coffee and talk for a few hours until he's comfortable enough to talk a little. The discharge- he's driving the Humvee with his baby son on the passenger seat. Something happens when he's driving. He's distracted a moment, and looks down. He's in the ditch and there's a hole in the windshield in front of where his son used to be. He jumps out to give emergency care to his son. The last thing he remembers is the rifle butt to the head, the MPs getting him out of the way so they can help the boy. He wakes up in the infirmary. His son doesn't wake up. A part of him is dying. I can see it like he sees the broken windshield, the gaping hole in his soul. Somebody knows somebody. Tomorrow he'll be off somewhere to a treatment centre for 'convalescent military personnel.' Down a neighbourhood street, I'm driving, he's beside me and another couple people are in the back and there is a lull in the chat. I swerve to avoid something on the street. Someone in the back says: "Oh, roadkill." There is a still gray cat on the street and a smaller gray kitty is nudging it with its nose. My breath fell with my heart and stomach and soul but found purchase in picking up a thread in the chat I had let fall only a few seconds before. The delay wasn't too long to poison the trip for my new friend and thankfully not too quick to accentuate the diversion and magnify the gaffe. His healing journey is going to take some time and he's going to need some help from his friends. We give him books, get him some more money for the bus ride and make sure this damn Yank knows the best coffee comes from Tims! Six hours ago. He had some of the clothes on his back. Now he's going to start his healing journey. We give him calling cards and our phone numbers. We all hug him. He feels the warmth. I don't know what to do about the 'wounded warrior.' (But I'm going to find out.)... ...That's a little too long of an aside and I may have lost the thread of the narrative a tad with that tangent, but it is very relevant for what lies ahead... OK. So. I'm a meditating machine. I got the job back at the retirement home after the slip-up. I'm working washing dishes. During this time I had two spontaneous visions regarding my boss that would help later. I was watching her shout at me keeping an eye on the circling anger that wanted to rise when she SHRUNK before my eyes. I could see her physically as a little child having a temper tantrum. She looked ridiculous with her chef hat on, five years old in those really big clothes. A smile spread on my face and she flipped. Later the opposite would happen. She wouldn't shrink but I expanded (If you've seen Lord of the Rings you'll recall "BILBO BAGGINS DO NOT TAKE ME FOR A CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS!") This expansion I hear is rather common so maybe it doesn't bear mentioning, but I felt so big that I thought the roof would cave UP to hold my mass. Later I would use the shrinking to the size of an atom and stretching to become a giant in an oscillating technique(this oscillating technique is the healing miracle for bipolars, PTSDs and schizos) that led to my total healing. This oscillating technique that I'll outline later on and the interdisciplinary guerilla scholar study method is the only new thing that this one has to offer. Oh yeah and maybe peace on Earth eventually. ***I need to find my own place. Friends I'm 30 years old. I'm hanging on to sanity by a thinning thread. The only thing keeping the humiliation I feel from living at home (again) is my steadfast refusal to acknowledge it. Denial. I MUST get OUT! I decide to find a place and I'm going to move there and 'sleep on the damn floor with only the clothes on my body if I have to.' Some ridiculous semi-miracle happens that gets me a cheap, cozy, clean, above ground apartment, a one minute walk from every amenity in Niagara Falls. Cozy as in small, but cozy like 'the walls were hugging me.' An apartment on Vine Street. Vunderbar! Perfect. I remembered thinking once: "If 'Catholic' means universal, then I'll just compile every religious holiday from every religious and spiritual tradition, including government stat holidays, and make up a REAL calendar so that I can take most of the days of the year off!" I wasn't concerned about how I would be supported during this time off, I just knew I was taking it. This place was where I would take my vacation. Friends and residents at the retirement home furnish my whole apartment. I'm really beside myself over this for awhile. It's as if I lost everything in a fire, and as the circling despair was closing in, someone says 'Everything is going to be all right' and whisks me away to safety. I move into the apartment and when my friend leaves I sit in the soft blue slow rocking recliner that one of the residents has given me. I feel a peace in body and mind. This is the place where it is going to happen or it's going to end. One way or another the pain is going to stop here. I don't hook up the phone or cable or the computer. I buy a poster for $40, the same sum that, in the too recent past, would have disappeared up in smoke in no time flat. The poster shows a big dragon perched on horse and men on the outstretched drawbridge of the castle. The keep is held by men with spears and, a wizard in a golden robe holds aloft a light-staff, dazzling the dragon a moment. It's the last stand and I can relate to this picture. The temporary truce. The Hudna. I buy little pyramids and glass spheres of different colours. I always wanted a crystal ball so I buy a very small one and for it, a tripod made of three very small glass spheres which sat on a small circular mirror. At night I light a tealight and view the diffraction of the light through the sphere. With this candle I learn about subtle movements and stillness. I listen to some American preacher brother man talk about righteousness and the wages of sin and so forth. A smile escapes me. I like this stuff. It is comforting. I turn the radio off and when the fine Italian restaurant next door closes at night, it is very quiet and peaceful. One of the best things I do for myself at this time is to spend 20-30 minutes, before bed in nightly, quiet reflection. No writing, no books, no music. I think about as many of the people who have helped me along as I can before I lay down. This settles the mind and body for peaceful dreaming and deep sleep. There's a stray cat I feed, who quickly has kittens. There's a retired nurse who lives nextdoor who I exchange pleasantries with when we pass. About 15 people live in the building. In the winter I shovel the path and salt the walk. Every morning I get up at least two hours before work at 7am. It's a five minute walk to work, but I'm so grumpy in the morning, so fragile that I dare not go out without a couple hours of 'steadying time.' I'm calm as the pond at Fireman's Park by the time I go to work. *I had a native friend who treated me like a son and to this day loves me like one of her own. She was on a Healing Journey too and she mentioned a Sweat Lodge Ceremony. I met the medicine man and was very impressed at his story of enlightenment. His tale of seeing a white dove fly into him set my soul on fire. I had always wanted to do some rite of passage or some deed that would earn me my name. Though most who knew me would think of me as "a man's man," I never felt like a man. I was comfortable with being one of the 'goys' but I never felt like I had deserved to be called a 'man.' I never felt like I deserved the name Kristen. I felt like I was a shame to the great gift of the noble family bloodline I had been born into. An affront to my noble birth...<*> Slight detour ahead.... (<*>Mom said "Just before you were born, God 'took me away.' And when I came back, there you were." Dad said I was born smiling(not a breech). Mom also said that after the birth: "I was sitting there nursing you and some priest came in looking to grab money from us and get us into the church." He asked, "What are you going to call him?" Mom says with more than a little vitriol, "Kristen! 'KRIST' for short." The priest left. So let me just reiterate quickly for the dense; I was born baptised from God, without original sin, in a state of Grace, sans my sliver shard of purpose. I am The word and the image made flesh. The son of the living God. I assert the doctrine of rebirth, the doctrine of no-soul and my personal unity with The Light. My 'first cut' was the beginning of the creation of the mask of ego. The second, third and fourth, would create the square reflection of identity. These 4, the sand that would reflect the source and lead to the revelation of the alpha and omega. Though I resented some of these cuts they were, like the halo later, a platform that would allow me, like Krishna, to remember all my lives. These four cuts were the 'primer'. Three quarters of a plane of sand that found completion in a triangular pyramid of water. These four cuts were the lynchpin (the base of the tetrahedron) where samskara roots 'ego' in identity. The original-sand-sin in the pearl.) Back to the Sweat Lodge. ...Though my self-flagellation was ostensibly for knowledge to help others, I started to believe the critics... So we arrive at the reserve, been fasting since the night before. There are the 7 grandmother and 7 grandfather teachings to start. This man is the real McCoy. A wise native elder who sees the soul sickness of the white man clearer even than I see the computer screen. It is New Years Eve day. We go out into the forest and gather around the firepit. There's a sacred blanket where sacred relics, artifacts, family totems, prayer beads, feathers, musical instruments are all arrayed for the blessing. Snow is falling in the forest and quietly hissing in the fire. We face each of the four directions. The medicine man summons blessings from the ancestors, from Turtle Mother, from the animals of the four directions and the different natural forces and elements of nature. He is a Bear Clan member. One of the young natives I had befriended indicated with a nod that it was time to strip down and go in the lodge. I turn around drop the laundry leaving on only shorts and turn around in my bare feet in the freezing mud. Nobody else has taken any of their clothes off. The young native is giggling and the hens are smirking and clucking at stupid whitey. So I freeze, the snow landing on my bare shoulders for about ten minutes. The body wants to shiver but I won't let it. I recede inwards where it's many layers away from the cold. Eventually we shuffle on all fours, through the mud, into the lodge. For three plus hours we sit packed tightly together singing and chanting, talking and praying. Mostly loud emotive singing. For each of the four rounds of talking and praying, singing and chanting, fifteen orange hot glowing grandmother and grandfather stones are brought into centre of the lodge and dropped in the centre pit. Each time the grandmothers and grandfathers are finished piling up, the medicine man sprinkles herb dust on them that sparkles and crackles. Then he douses them with a medicinal cedar and herb drink concoction. Each time he douses the grand stones, waves of boiling steam break over everyones' heads. It is a full sweat. There is an outer circle and an inner circle. We were asked to bring towels to cover our faces-to protect us from the nearly unbearably hot steam. Sweat is flowing off the end of my nose. Not dripping. Flowing. My whole body is covered in oil, and water is flowing over it. We sweat and chant and chant and sweat. After a couple hours, someone is tapping the tambourine, another is playing a didgeridoo. Then the rattle starts to shake and the medicine man is invoking the Thunder Beings to bless us all. I'm starting to see blue sparks in the darkness and the sound of the rattle seems to be coming from a non-local source. There's a couple whoop, whoops like a wing flapping sound. The overall effect is like some military sound weapon where it seems like you're surrounded and disoriented. These whoop whoops sounded like a very big bird just flapped it's wings very close to me. The two 'whoops' were slowly paced out in time such that I pictured very big wings serenely pulling some enormous bird aloft from within the lodge. The second whoop was distinct and louder than the first. I thought that the third whoop would be loud like wind whipping a tent, lifting up the lodge, and I internally recoiled a little, bracing for the impact of the sound. But the sound never came. I thought that I must have heard a Thunderbird flying over the lodge. At the end of the sweat the door leading out is opened and some of the steam starts to vent out. The sacred copper cup of cedar and sage water is passed around and everybody drinks as much as they want. Berries are passed around inside the lodge and it is then that I see him. I'm looking through the steam and over the central rock pit at the medicine man. It is very dim. He's beside the door and the steam is moving out around him. The fire pit is still blazing outside, I can see it through the door. But I'm watching him. He's sitting, feet outstretched before him, with a bowl of berries sitting on his big belly. The way he is shoveling the berries into his mouth and all the extra work his lips are doing to keep the berries in his mouth and the overall unaffected way that he was eating these berries showed me that this was actually a bear eating and not a man. Whoever first invented the idea of a SHAPESHIFTER saw something like this man-bear eating his berries. It was very special and sometimes, when I'm 'with Spirit' and the vision starts swirling, I remember the day that bear-man's spirit communed with mine. *That night was New Year's Eve. I would go to my sponsor's house (I did NA for two years learning about spiritual principles getting clean.) After a long and involved chat that included the question: "Are you really sure it's such a good idea to go down there amongst all the drugs, alcohol and empty desolation alone in the cold rain and feeling the way you do?", I would go visit my aunt who lives just down the street from Clifton Hill (Niagara's tourist destination). There is a concert in the park on New Year's Eve which the ex and I had gone to for the last couple years. I arrived down at the Falls as Foreigner or Honeymoon Suite wrapped up their song and started leading the countdown... "10!...9!....8!".......I'm looking for her, she must be here amongst the 30,000 somewhere ....."2!.......1!...Let Old Acquaintents be forgot".... I don't want to forget ......everybody's kissing. For a fleeting instant I think of jumping over the Falls but I don't want to traumatize the innocent bystanders. I walk in the rain umbrella in hand...totally alone in a crowd of 30,000. All I can think about is her and who she may be kissing. Inside I winge and cringe but show nothing. I walk back to my Aunt's house. I am very blessed to have an aunt that I could also call a spiritual advisor. She asks me why I went there. I tell her "that I just wanted the suffering to peak so it may diminish." She says something that makes me squirm. "It's as if you just want to take a cold sore and rub it all over your face." and she motions with her hand as if she's wiping her face. This circular hand motion, well...the beloved had suffered from cold sores and seeing her suffering and embarassment over these things were a pain to me and when my aunt said that about spreading them all over, I could see that happening to my girl. I changed the subject. I remember saying to my aunt: "Damnit. Jesus was enlightened at 30 and Buddha at least was on the way, but what am I doing wrong?" The height of her uproarious laughter was counterbalanced by the depth of my despair. She says "They've given just a little bit more than you and after all it was their path and might not be yours." When something just gives way in the face of overbearing trauma there is this slipping away, this catatonic stupour that protects the vital psychological functions. I felt that slip and like the shotgun blast in the chest when I lost my fiancee, there was literally nothing between me and bottomless agony. <***>And then an intervention. A miracle. In the centre of my chest, at my sternum I felt a warmth. The warmth built into a pulsating ball of warm bliss. The pulsating ball stabilized and became a steady hum. I recognized something quite out of the ordinary was happening so I held up my hand to my Aunt and said only: "Wait. Bliss." and pointed at my chest. She could see something was happening. The humming ball started to emit a thin pulsating stream of bliss light from above the ball and below it. These two pulsating lines came to an end at my navel and near my Adam's apple. At these two spots, two more balls of bliss started to pulsate and then stabilized into humming balls like the third in the centre of my chest. The centre ball pulsated a couple times and emitted laterally, two more thin streams of pulsating bliss light that terminated near my armpit-shoulder area, where they there started humming like the other three. There I sat with an ethereal Blissful Cross imprinted onto the front of my flesh. In my chest I felt ribless. My body felt divided into a frontal plane of flesh and a dorsal plane of bone with this heavy and warm, comforting bliss pressed up against the flesh like a ghostly stamp resting in warm wax. And there it was, unmistakable for about two minutes, then the whole thing reversed. The side armpit balls started pulsating and retreated into the centre ball. The navel and neck ball started pulsating and retreated into the centre ball. The centre ball started pulsating and it faded away. The onset took a minute, it held for two, and took another one to diminish. 4 miraculous minutes that still make the rings in the head flush ecstatic. The afterglow of the bliss stayed pretty strong for a couple hours. I knew it was the shape of the cross but I thought that this might be some Kabalah thing. When I lay down to sleep that night I'm certain the bed did not receive my full weight. When I arrive at the retirement home the next day, I still feel as if I am in the tail end of the Bliss Cross experience. Shortly after punching in, I step outside. There is a peregrine falcon sitting on the grass on the other side of the parking lot fence, only about 10 metres away. He flaps his wings once and is up on the railing beside the building next door. I whistle to him and he stares straight at me. I take a couple steps towards him and he flies up onto the fence, only about 5 metres away from me. I take a couple more steps towards the fence and he flies up into a tall maple tree. I go back inside to bring breakfast out to the elderly children. I go find a retired, nearly centenarian priest who was living at the retirement home and ask him: "What does this mean?" I thought for sure that all priests had a list for these kinds of things and that he'd just say something like "Oh Yeah, you're the reincarnation of St.Francis" or even "It's about time you've arrived sir, I'll alert Rome." But no, all he said was "It's up to you." My mother said that! I couldn't believe it. This experience would convince the most diehard atheist that if there's not a God, then at least the cross is very important and its mention in the Bible probably has some deep mystic significance. Every Christian on earth would give a finger for something like this to happen to them, but I looked into the sky and if you can believe the ingratitude, I said "Lord, why do I have to be one of THOSE people. Of all the signs you've given me and could give, why make it one with such obvious CHRISTIAN overtones!?" I believed that I was the superior horse who flees at the sight of the whip but it turns out I'm the inferior horse who doesn't move before he's been flogged to a pulp. On the way home from work that day, I came to a corner where I could turn right or left and would arrive at the same place one block ahead. I went right, then a strong inclination overcame me to turn left, so I did. I didn't expect anything to happen but as I walked past the second house on the block, I heard something from up in the tree that overhung the sidewalk. I looked up and there was the peregrine falcon sitting directly overhead on a low branch, his burning orange eyes looking down directly into me from only six feet above. The very instant our sights intermingled, I was exhilarated and he was off flying. I walked on home. A few months later the girl had decided she would give it another whirl with me. We were at a Nickelback concert having a great time when two songs came on that would shake the core. The first was 'If Everyone Cared.' The second was 'Savin' Me'. These two songs and the accompanying videos on the screen brought me so low. I felt like God had arrived and had caught only me not doing the right thing. I didn't cry out or convulse but everyone around me somehow knew that I had suddenly become very unwell. That night I couldn't shake the thought that something had to be done, time was running out and it was up to me. The opposite of universal unity. The horror of utter aloneness, powerlessness and irredeemable guilt. I saw that loneliness was being unable to share what is important in one's heart. I felt like heaven's gates were not going to open up for me and for this non-vigilance I was really finally over. The girl asked me if there was something wrong. I somehow gave an evasive answer about "Oh the starving African children always get me" or something else semi-probable. *The Science Store and the Hebrew Merchant. I was at an oddities shop that specialized in old scientific instruments. There were posters of scientists and astronomy, every 'Idiot's Guide' book imaginable, case after display case with fossils and semi-precious gems. A huge brown egg drew my attention. It was a 150 pound shiva lingam stone sitting on a perch. I walked up to it. There was a sign beside it that said "Touch me." I was thinking of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and I realized I should be serious when I touch it. Or at least show it some respect as I wasn't one to revere a stone. So I steadied myself for a moment and then lay my left hand upon it. It was cold, but emitted a subtle charge. It went straight up my arm into my shoulder, dipped down into my heart and circled back into my head making an infinity sign around my heart and head. It was a similar sensation to the time I got a Tetanus shot and passed out. I called to my two friends to come quickly and touch it. They did and nothing at all happened. Again a blessing. This infinite sign was the Purkinje nerve circuit that links the pulsing beat of the heart to a cluster of nerves in a small nucleus in the cerebellum. I felt it and it was good. The summer came to an end and so did my landscaping job. I went on unemployment. The fall turned to winter. I was playing indoor soccer and badly sprained my ankle. Even though I couldn't walk for a week I started to think of it as my Achilles' heel. My family didn't think it was funny as prolonged unemployment had pointed me down a dangerous road in the past. One night after midnight I was hobble-pacing around outside. I had been roaming the neighbourhood digging cars out, that had become stuck in the deep snow in the street. My ankle was throbbing by the time I hopped up onto the landing in front of my apartment. There was a drift of snow about a metre deep and big, fat flakes were falling. I wanted to just fall back into the snow. So I did. I lay there letting the snow land on my face, suppressing the twitch reflex. The snow had an electric burn to it but it was mildly pleasing. I just lay there for an hour. I realized that it was late and nobody would come out and bother me. So I lay there a while longer, knowing about the warm bliss of frost death. I went inside and Bob Marley's DVD opening with Rastaman Chant was repeating over and over again: "Said I 'ear the words of a higher man say....Baba-lon your throne gone down, gone down, Babylon your throne gone down." This alone sustained a mild trance for me. It was as if one of those Tibetan prayer wheels, that all the people circumambulate and keep spinning, had been set up in me. I wouldn't let go of this entrainment with the good vibes until The Awakening. During this time I read Mary Elizabeth Croft's work, and found Robert Arthur Menard and the Antiterrorist. I heard a senate confirmation hearing where senator Jay Rockefeller was asked how much money he made last year. He replied "$700 million US." How much Tax? "None." was the answer. At that moment I knew that I would not pay one penny in tax ever again or at least until I made $700 million US in one year or a crew of non-villains that I could respect arranged for regime change. I became incensed beyond all belief at the criminals and villains running amok, at the complacency and stupid banal meanness of my brothers.... [Short aside- (It had been 7 years since I read this book called 'Everything is Under Control.' It was a conspiracy compendium. After reading that, I read no newspaper, magazine, or any other mainstream media sourced writings, left school, and dropped out. It was this reading and the election of George Bush that tested my faith in YOU to the max. "What's the point in saving these people when they do THIS to themselves? Oh Yeah, It's a democracy! What they do to themselves they do unto me!" I did something that was probably as terrible a thing to do to one's own psyche(soul) as could be done. I thought that I would triumph over the horror of the world by immersing myself in it. I would learn the mind of the maniac by studying it's rotten fruit. For about a year I watched all the ghastly stuff on TV late at night. The endless war 'documentaries', tyrants and dictators, murder squads, Code Blue, Rescue 911, Trauma:Life and Death in the ER, etc. I watched more death and horror in that time than most will ever see. I was numb but not comfortably.)Short aside ends].... The utter lack of advancement in millenia. Hate and fury, wrath and greed started to stir. >>>>>I had become bored with life and made the conscious decision to 'unhook the beast within.' I started smoking weed again. Alcohol was too dangerous, only a hair's breadth from the crack. Alcohol was my trip wire. But weed would at least be balanced. It's inability to create large effects positive or negative would be the safety catch, but it would also be enough to wake the beast and get it moving. I used the green finally as I had always wanted to use it, as a bona fide sacrament. And as expected my shallow equanimity was disturbed. I let my sleep cycle start to follow it's own compass rather than try to impose some artificial pattern. I had dropped my watch years ago. I had this belief that we would be naturally attracted to the day/light cycle, but an underlying proclivity to return to a pattern focused around one's birth hour must exist. I started to make sure that I saw every sunrise and every sunset and to spend time in long walks at these times of day. I found that I wanted to be awake always at the hour of my birth and that seeing the moon and reaffirming my connection to her every night became important.I stopped eating everything I found offensive. At first I ate only my staples- bread, coffee(yup), rice, nuts, spaghetti, olives and local fruits and vegetables. I reduced my diet to the Buddhist monk diet of veggies and rice and none of the five pungent veggies (onion, garlic, chives, leek, peppers). That's it. I figured there were plenty of my brothers and sisters locked up in prisons of poverty who hadn't eaten so well in a long while. The diet tapered down further until I ate nothing solid. I drank loads of decaf coffee and took in Hari Krishna like quantities of sugar. Eventually I took in only water. I knew that the Hebrew's thought it important to respect Friday sunset to Sunday sunrise, the Christians thought it important to respect Sunday, my Italian barber thought it important to take Monday's off, so I didn't take any chances and went super hard Friday to Monday. My native friend told me about a teaching from the elders: "Treat each day like a ceremony for the Creator." I liked the word 'Creator' because it wasn't 'God.' So I decided that Friday to Monday was not good enough and ramped it up everyday. I was going all the way. Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun. "Diabetes? Who cares." "Seizure? Bring it on! That's where the light is." Imagine, I actually pursued epilepsy and 'gambled' schizophrenia looking for the light. I knew the kamikaze pilots felt god-like once they left the runway. I knew Buddha sat with the intention of enlightenment or death and I had to know. I was concerned about amputation from numbness, strokes and heart attacks and I had resolved that those were OK ways to go. I figured numbness was just another barrier to get past. At least I could conceive of what it would be like. I found the body could relax utterly by dissolving the numbness. For day after day I chanted and sung, mudra'd and danced like a Dakini. The flow of my body was dissolving the rigidity of my heart and mind. ***I would sing so intensely and chant with such heartfelt devotion that I felt like a Native Spirit was dancing with me. I was learning the ancient syllables. Ay Ya, Way Ya, Ay Ya Ay Ye. A couple times the singing was so inspired that 'The Ancients' were singing through me. They were like Ravi Shankar and Krishna and David Gilmour and an elephant with a bell anklet and some scarred old Native with a rattlesnake. I mean come on, I was no musician. An OK dancer but my heart was like someone who's watching The Little Drummer Boy play for Jesus. The fugue was stretching, warming up. During these singing stretches I remembered the throat singers and picked that up pretty quick. [It's similar to the didgeridoo players breathing trick to keep the droning sound continuous. Unlike the bagpipes that squeeze the airbag to draw breath, the didgeridoo player 'takes inside' the airbag and keeps playing. He can breathe in through the nose while blowing air from the mouth. Think on that.] Just as quickly I was doing 3 sounds and I knew if I was really willing to risk blowing out my eardrums and exploding my fifth chakra I could do 'this thing I figured out' and double the three to six sounds, but I saw the Exorcism of Emily Rose and I'm not about to chant the six voice chant for a reason as frivolous as my own curiousity. I would listen to my own 'rattle,' that is 'death rattle,' a few times, each time thinking: 'COOL!' I believed that if I was to 'get enlightened' I was going to have to pour out more well-directed work in the upcoming days and weeks than I had ever given before. I had moved into a very deep Zen groove of 'resting when tired, eating when hungry.' I just wasn't very hungry for food or tired of the quest. It was a challenge to stay in alert ease within the stream of consciousness without being carried away by distracting reactive impulses or yielding to inertia. I was near the height of my power. Saturn had made it's first cycle in my life already and Jupiter nearly three. I was almost exactly half my dad's age. *(My dad had me when he was 33 and that seemed important. Also something else about dad. I remember watching a BRUCE LEE movie as a teen. In the movie, Bruce Lee's baby son is constantly in danger from this samurai knight. This takes place in a recurring dream sequence. It was a metaphor. Bruce had to overcome this demon or it would haunt his son. Allusions to 'suffer the innocent' and, 'suffering unto the fourth generation.' To me the family demon I inherited was alcoholism and abuse. It was up to me to destroy it. I had caged it, protecting others and now I was going to let it off the leash in me and we were going to 'have it out.') I was going to pull up every strong positive and negative feeling I had ever felt and overcome it. I had been pushing this rock for too long. Unlike Sisyphus, I was going to push the capstone right to the top and slam the rock down on the peak, and if this mountain was a volcano then it would be its turn to lift the rock. If the kingdom of heaven was going to be achieved it was going to take some sort of heroic effort and since I'm not going to go kill somebody who has never done a thing to me and would love me if he had the chance, I had to earn my stripes by self overcoming. "That is where the true power is," so I heard. I needed to peel the onion, to find the core, to discover first hand the mechanics of samsara, the turnings of karma. I had to unmanifest the manifest and back again and more. I wanted to see the source where time is threaded into the ropes of bondage and there cut and slash. I was going to unwind the fabric of the universe and nobody was going to stop me. I moved so far into the spirit that it would mock me. "Still relying on external food are we?" Deep, deep in meditation, almost every layer still, only righteous (non-disturbing) thoughts moving and it says "Still relying on breathing through the air are we?" In Dakini land, always refusing to kneel or let a single tear drop to the ground, was of utmost importance to me. I always felt dirty kneeling and thought it an activity beneath the dignity of a man. And tears that escaped the eyes would be splashed on the lingham of the forehead. But eventually the self flagellating gave way to an elation. There was a moment as all these festivities were getting under way when I had worked up an irrational fear of people coming to my apartment, to the bear cave, to harm me. I summoned up a resolved anger, a serious determination that nobody would interfere, and dragons or angels will come and look out for me. I believed this absolutely and as soon as that thought arose, I heard and felt two very heavy thuds simultaneously land behind me, like refrigerators being dropped off the back of a truck. Two pole-anchors about ten feet behind and off to either side. I sort of guessed them to be these giant gargoyley things. Their fearsomeness was more than my conscious imagination could conceive of. These were from the depths of the inactive unconscious but I knew they were there to protect me and it would be unbecoming to show fear in front of two such truly awesome creatures. These two coupled with the Buddha and Jesus brought me great security. I was being hooked into the throne. I went into my apartment and more instant karma. I flick on a 'random' YouTube video about Nephilim and Elohim and it shows a bunch of GIANT humanoid skeletons ranging in height from 8 feet to 36 feet tall. (I would 'look through the eyes' of these giants, looking over the housetops then over the treetops. I would feel them as my own body.) Had I awoken a genetic memory. I had no problem with the whole 'procession of the embryo' link to the animal kingdom, but this? Was I a 'Nephilim.' This brought a whole new seriousness to the quest. Things were getting Biblical. Surely the dragon was moving. The majesty I felt. I would stand in front of the statue of King George in the park in a L or D staring contest. Jesus and Tesla and Buddha drew the fire of my gaze too. King George looked like my father's father K'an. The wrath of Khan was building. My father's mother, as staunch a conservative as one could imagine, 'Eve' actually styled herself after the Queen. And a noble figure did this matriarch cut. I felt like Adi Shankaracharya 'surely I must be of noble lineage.' <{(*)}>The entrance into the bear cave. It had started on 'Leap Day' February 29th a day auspicious for the astrologers. Someone said "Treat each breath like it is your whole life." So I started paying very close attention to my breath. I figured that if Buddha himself said: "watch the breath" then I should. Someone else said "Treat each moment as an introduction to the Cosmos." It was also around the Christian Easter season which had something to do with a 40 day sacrifice, and that 40 day period jived with the Muslim Ramadan, and the 40 day fast that I knew I would have to do to get the job done. When I realized there was only one more day until MARCH, I couldn't wait another minute. I had to start making my perfection then and there. **** I had been in a high state of disturbance. I had met a beautiful woman perfect in every way I could have ever hoped for if I was able to describe my perfect woman. The only trouble was that she was a woman other than my girlfriend. This upset me to the highest degree. You see as a 2 year old boy I would see my mother crying always because my dad left for another woman. To me alcoholics abusing their children (mom's dad), and men who abandoned women and children were like the mass murderers of innocence. And here >I< was, after condemning my dad for 30 years for leaving my mom. Not only had I hurt women before, and fallen into alcoholism and addiction, violated at least 8 commandments but I was ready to ABANDON her. The ultimate wrong. I was Willie Lynch. A villain. (An aunt with the wisdom of a whip used to say "Don't point your finger because there are three pointing back at you.") I had told my girl that I would marry her, that we'd have children and be happy together and >I< was convinced. I felt as though this beautiful creature was proof that I couldn't trust my own heart. Low was I wrought. <*>A personal aside on AUM...a little more on the Muse- The two 'Shakti bookends' of 'AUM' are: 'A,' Brahma- the Shakti which creates and 'M,' Rudra-the Shakti which destroys. When I forget that my life is a Lila, I am astounded that the woman who utterly destroyed my soul as a 20 year old and the woman who wrought me so low creating the space for Spirit to enter as a 32 year old, these two bookends of my spiritual path to the Father, both were named 'AM.' Now back to the bat kol, er, I mean, bear cave. *****During the rising fugue, an image of the moment of physical perfection arose. My body had been smelling pleasant and I had moved into a 'Zen groove,' The Flow. I had stayed away from mirrors as my flying mind would get spun into distraction too easy. I had come to leave the light off in the bathroom as to dim the reflection and not draw my focus to 'my form.' But once I looked up and saw myself without assymmetry and in a glowing light. My skin was a soft glowing yellow. I thought: "Surely I am the Golden One." Soft as in, a very pale hue of yellow, almost white. Looking back, this was the beginning of the emergence of 'casting forth the golden light,' a state where the eyes would be tied back. I thought that all the seminal retention was somehow feeding the mitochondria in my cells and the electric light between the cells was changing colour. Around here came the internal sperm smell then the rose smell. Then the link with Trout and the sperm channel behind their brain. I was getting fishy. Piscean. I was lithe as a cat. I was coming up against Narcissus. I wanted to fix my hair, and hernias. The loosening of the first and second chakras or 'settling of the tail' elsewhere described, opened up internal awareness of scar tissue near the childhood hernia cords. I sawfelt these cords like anchor lines from the Titanic with stuff growing all over them. I could internally 'peel away' the scar tissue. Of course the first time I touched the 'stuff' on the cord it was a dense cold mass of pain that shot a hot pain straight to my head. I realized I could do this, sort of like I had discovered removing headache pain earlier, marionetting the subtle body into relaxation. Though marionetting around this 'lightning' would take some careful doing. There was a numbness barrier that ensheathed a generalized warmth that made the pain less piercing. But this realization turned into a 'Physician Heal Thyself' mockery and I knew that healing my cords and hair was a misuse of power and an abuse of vanity, so I focused on others instead. When I 'let go' of healing myself, I saw the 'residual self image.' Plato and Aristotle *** Ba'al *** Magician *** Adonis *** High Priest *** the SON. I was perceptibly Glowing much brighter than before, in the widening grace. The archetypal forces, the columns, a roulette-wheel a-whirling. Big healing here. Like an extreme isometric exercise that brings the whole body into maximal tension, I hoisted my hand into the sky fixing it around the column support of heaven and anchored the other hand on the column leading into the ground. I was Big John. I was Hercules. Sampson. Arnold. Steve and Aleksander. Letting 'the channel' into my hands, I held the OPTION to destroy the Universe OR Hold it in place. I held it. I listened to great music and got real pumped. I was 'Raging Against the Machine.' 'Rise Against' is 'Giving it All' and so am I, the Siren singer. The one from whom the clarion call comes. Eventually the adrenaline would wane and I would recognize the momentum was slowing and I would bring up old songs that used to hurt and drag up old memories of wrongs inflicted and suffered. And flailed about in guilt and remorse. It's true, I beat my fists on the floor. I realized that I was having an emotional binge but I didn't care. I was nearing Golem, the pratyeka fool. There was wailing and gnashing of teeth galore.(This was difficult. My jaw from football helmet wearing, and drug use was accustomed to be in tension. There was much practice in willing my jaw into relaxation, back in the day. The momentum of the dragon riding would not allow me to relax my face for awhile. But when relaxation came, the Sri Vidya started unfolding her body through me. This at first felt like 'Ariadne's webs') I remembered a phrase I saw on an old abandoned theatre. It said: "What you can't get out of, get into whole-heartedly." I was going to 'Rock the Kasbah.' I was going to destroy this polarizing cycling or be destroyed. So this chasing the dragon went on. I lost my self totally in driving myself down, down into pain and when the spirit buoyed me up I would 'slingshot' the roller coaster to the peak and jump into the sky only to land in the car and drive down, down again. I remembered my aunt tell me "Kristen, focus on getting grounded. Put your hands in the dirt." Getting grounded within, would mean being still and flat like the monks. I would have to get really good, really quick at breath control. I saw that fasting simply opened up room inside and allowed for easier settling of the breath. A full stomach pushed against the breathing apparatus and increased blood pressure. Not good for quiet meditation. Once food and blood pressure ceased impinging on the breath, it became easier to breathe further down. The length of breath started to 'touch down' further. (The breath started to 'round out,' and the patience developed on the 'ends of the breath' would lead to pranayama.) After a stretch of fasting and breath control, the internal organs would each feel as if they were 'floating in space' within, unhindered by the connective tissues around them. The heart sat comfortably in the centre of the chest. This stillness was counterbalanced by a terrible restlessness. For endless days and nights I paced and roamed the neighbourhood. After pacing, I would sit as still as I could, imagining what the Dalai Lama is doing when he sits like a MOUNTAIN . I started to see my body as a mountain and all the 'kosha' layers of my body were akin to the strata of a mountain. (The 'mines' in this mountain would yield the 'amethyst geode.') I aimed to become the phrase: "Be still and know that I am God." When the earth started shaking I started moving again. Night and day. Doing all sorts of Kumbhaka (breath holding yoga exercises, not recommended for repetitive use by children). Using the 'Contact' time travel scene as a pacer to stretch the breath out until the intervals were too short, learning to hold the heart within the held breath, through intense heat, serotonin and adrenaline phases. Sleeping less and less. Listening to Rysa5(a wise man, who sounded a little like the astrology professor) and DJing five and six channels on the computer, expanding the mind into wider entrainment of the unconscious with healing sounds and rhythms. Creating the synesthetic state. I went through all the lowlights and highlights until I came to the memory of the rave that I've earlier recounted. I went online and found a rough playlist of some of the songs that were playing around the time the rave OBE happened. Up until then that was about the highest I had ever felt. I started dancing and grooving to quickly elevate as high as possible and put my body under massive oxidative stress. I remembered as a boy in cub-scouts getting knocked out a couple times, by holding my breath. I hear children are hurting themselves this way now. I remember the many times I've 'sat in my body' during long runs. Got into a groove and rode it. The Zone. When I first thought of milking the dragon by feeding it the rave memory I didn't want to spoil the pristine nature of the memory as I hadn't tried to 'milk it' yet. I went for a long walk. I thought about being out of body and then being out of mind out of body. The calculus working on me. I wondered what would happen if I was 'above' and looked UP. I remembered all the pictures of Shiva and Krishna laying in the ocean on their clamshell rafts. I remember that they have these out of body awareness spaces that seem to extend umbilically from their belly button. I remembered Jesus and the 'walking on water' thing. I had been under heavy dietary restrictions for a couple weeks if not months. My inners would whine a lot during this time. But as you go further, it becomes like: swimming in cold water until you find a shallow sandbar and stand up in the sun. Hunger becomes less relevant. In fact as one allies one's self more with the spirit, eating becomes a hindrance. As a runner, I was accustomed to coming up against cramps or stitches in the side and learned how to alter breathing patterns and 'step-count' to damp the cramp away. I remember thinking about a pain in my abdomen: 'Is it the rupturing of an ulcer, my spleen or appendicitis?' I wasn't much concerned about which one it was. I just knew that I better get on with the quest, because the body can't go on forever like this. Strange that the longer one fasts the more clear things become. There is the 'diminishing returns to scale' to consider but long fasting does wonders for the inners. As I saw and felt my skeleton becoming more clearly defined. I thought about Dharma Suicide, Mahasamadhi, Ramana and Buddha. I figured if my body system was as stressed and slim as these men, my mind doing the same sort of things, and my practise honed razor sharp, then certainly I would be getting close. Besides the pains in the belly, malnourishment was starting to show by way of a swelling in my throat. I don't know if it was a goitre or what but it was a growing ball in my throat and it was starting to choke me. It was the thyroid gland. Breathing was becoming laboured, and there seemed to be a lot of phlegm to deal with at first. I remembered Chogyam Rinpoche said: "enlightenment was like swallowing a red hot iron ball." I took this to be a secret code for what I was choking on. I just figured it was part of the process, though it was slowly strangling me. I figured that this was a 'metamorphic zone' where my old DNA would come out and 'switch around' my stomach and appendix and allow me to start processing vegetables better. This swelling taught me lots about gates and bandhus and fifth chakra, visuddha stuff that the yogis know. This fifth chakra was the 'Vak' as described by Vedic culture. 'Vak' just happens to sound like 'rock,' as in 'The Rock!' Peter. THE WORD. This realization of 'The Perennial Yoga' was very exciting and remained a source of joy until the 'meaty altar' became realized as 'The Rock.' *To whom it may concern. I had thought that both men and woman usually used six chakras. Women were straight 1-6 and sometimes touched 7, while, most present day men were 'curled' from 2 to 1 to 5ish and sometimes 6 when they're lucky. The grounding of women in emotional intelligence allowed them to 'Charlie Brown' the men. To pull the wool down over the eyes and the rug out from under the feet. I started to think about six chakras being the woman light body and seven chakras being the light body for men. I was in a 6.5 chakra hinge space. I thought that this is why 13 is thought unlucky and why there are only 12 constellations, ignoring the 13th, snakecharmer Ophiocus. *Further on 'chakra hinging.' This chakra hinging, or mental marrionetting from above, allows one to fold out into two, into RNA and DNA, and there see Creation in Source and Reflection. To You Who Have Ears HEAR! The 'columns' were coming into conflict with the Androgyne. Stillness and movement, Darkness and Light phasing. Starting to reveal the phase frequencies of the polarized shell around the heartmind that had pulled me to and fro and got me labelled as sick. The manifesting was becoming more and more instant. This instant manifestation would itself become an extraordinary trend which overleapt even the trend itself. Instead of willed events happening and being understood together(FLOW), willed activities started to become understood AFTER the willed event. I started to see that my will wasn't entirely 'my own' or if it was, it was 'ahead of me.' It seemed there was another agency at work. The momentum of the columns had become my will but since I was so involved in their construction I eased into their flow. Sitting in the run. I was 'out front' again. ---------------------------------------------------------- <(*)>Wednesday, March 26, 2008 I put on the music. I just started to dance and put myself in that emotional place of sensual wonder and spiritual catharsis. I remembered the rave, looking at my Yoko Ono dancing bright-eyed, smiling and sweating all in white. Her hair a bird's nest of sweat. Her brown nipples showing through her soaked shirt. The smile of unrestrained happiness just beaming from her. Blissful innocence, complete acceptance of who I am. Everything felt right and the music built and I started throwing my awareness skyward to spread it somehow into the ether. I pictured the awareness hit the atmosphere and curl around to the opposite side of the earth, then through the earth and back up through me in a circuit. The cross section of a Big Apple. The Cube Tube I was looking down thinking about how the crossing of the sun traces my shadow out in a clockwise arc (from west to north to east)on the ground, while the earth itself moves counterclockwise. I realized that the turning of the earth and the movement of the shadow traced out arcs, behind and forward respectively, that moved from right to left. (I was facing south.) I thought that this might be why the sushumna nadi turns right to left, and that the awareness of this synchronicity might bring me to the timeless moment of stillness in motion. I started looking internally, for a 'point or plane' where the clockwise becomes counter and vice versa, a place where these two different perspectives came together. I focused on the areas of my body near where the chakras might be and sought to observe the counter rotating cones in each of them. The tetrahedron and the drum of Shiva were useful in visualizing these, until then, hypothetical movements. In this way I located my third eye and when my third eye contemplated the interlaced clockwise and counterclockwise currents travelling simultaneously up and down, 'I' hollowed out into a cubic tube. The cube being comprised of two horizontal, parallel planes of four points(squares). One plane was rotating clockwise and the other counterclockwise. The four points at the corner of each square plane were points of tension in soft tissue. As the two squares lined up into the cube, awareness dissolved into liquid light. This cube tube was 'The Word Chamber.' It seemed like the trillions of miles of thought strings infinitely condensed in the convultions of my cortex were about to unfold into wide space and grasp the sun like a gem in a ring-setting. ***Being the centre of the Earth. There was an axis running through me. I pictured being below in the ground and above a satellite. The perception of the satellite was so clear, I could see a circle in its centre and a 'fan accelerator' that looked like cross hairs. The silver numinosity from university had acquainted me with an experience of clear inner vastness and the satellite seemed to float within this serene vastness. I thought of 'Akira' and was a little scared that I might be 'tapping in' to the electronics of the world. This satellite and earth below provided an axis to anchor myself around and within. Around me there were three great circles, similar to the equator, Tropic of Cancer, and Tropic of Capricorn. I would later collapse these rings, along with the Arctic and Antarctic Circles to provide an object of focus, to recede awareness in further. To the northern zenith went 'A' and to the southern nadir went 'Z'. I toyed with different letter arrangements around the three great circles. This 8,8,8 cube (b-i, j-q, and r-y) squared in the circle as it was, didn't feel quite right, so I adjusted until I found letter rings that 'felt right.' Maintaining outward attention on the 26, 3d points was a useful lesson to discipline the focus. I didn't bother trying to move the circles at first as this was just a little too complicated. I did however start to see that my mind wanted to 'grid the sphere' rather than pursue the 26 poles. I remembered that there were five circles if the Arctic and Antarctic Circles were included. This had an appeal as the five circles could be used to represent the five senses or the five chakras from Muladara to Vishuddha. The chakra sphere would have to contain more than 26 points (50 actually, like matrika units) and the circles would spin in different directions. I was working out the plans for the 'mirror room' where 'The Light' would first manifest. During the ups and downs, I realized that the body could become stationary and I could increase the 'milking' efficiency like a skater spinning faster and faster. The tidal forces were swaying me. The music built. I pictured beams of light going out in 'the eight' and 26 directions, piercing all my neighbours in my apartment building and the surrounding neighbourhood. They were attached etherically umbilically to me and I was pumping 'em all full of goodness. I was rooted into the rock layers beneath. (This rooting- I was thinking about the area where the soles of my feet touched the ground and realized that I could only feel a pair of rings that attached to the ground like suction cups. Within the cups there was an emptiness, a continuity with the ground that interpenetrated my bones and the earth. The elemental nature of my physical being was moving in harmony with the rock of the Earth. The air nature of my spirit was swaying with the music of the spheres, the whole galaxy was watching and feeling what was going on. The song that was playing at the rave the first time I got 'lift off', that song came on. I was ready like Jodie in Contact, and I was 'OK to go.' I knew I had to get way, way up high to get the leverage and momentum to drive me down like Gandalf after the Balrog, further into the swamp, through the two poles, past the schizophrenic state and temporal lobe epilepsy, beyond the hopeless suicidal nihilism, under the addiction pain and PLUCK the drain from the river bed basin and forever drain away the pain of the self-destructing addict, the dragon that always wants death and destruction. But here in this instant my intention, my in-tension, led me not into hell but rather somewhere else. I am as lithe as a cat, furiously strong and stiff like an elephant. I am all will and concentration, holding, clearing away, opening and making room for sattva, in the super-saturated solution that is my body. All there is to do is 'dip the string in and pull out the crystal.' ***I was up, up as high as I could be. In my head - Bob Seger, my father's and grandfather's anthem- "Like a Rock, I'm as Strong as I can be. Like a rock, nothing ever got to me." I remembered my grandmother's funeral and the tear that almost came out, my father's eyes in the rearview mirror watching mine. "Old woman speak to my heart, O woman of the Earth, maker of children who weep for love, maker of this birth, tell your deepest secrets unknown to me, I WILL NOT BE MOVED....I WILL NOT BE MOVED." I was very moved. I had to prepare to 'witness the earth move' and not be moved thereby. A monster tyrant of terrible power. And I felt the turn, the stalling of the engine at the height (Mahanada) and I turned my gaze down from the heavens at the distant blue speck of earth far, far below... ...and as I was about to start my descent, my eyes darted up and down a couple quick, hard times (sort of like the way a panicked man's eyes dart left and right). Maybe it was the inner eye lid opening. It felt as if my eyes were whipping (like the tail wagging the dog) the inside of my head. A strong mechanical type charge was sent inward along my optic nerves....from inside and what seemed to be just above my head I heard 'The Voice' say: "You know you are doing this all to yourself. You have control over your thoughts and feelings." There was 'no spoon.' I was in the elevator shaft going up, the elevator falling away. Out front, above and beyond. I had found FOOTING in the sky. This hearing... These two phrases were superimposed over the rest of the roller coaster dragon riding 'technique.' This super imposition pulled 100% of my awareness upwards, even though the momentum of my awareness was oriented 100% downwards. This escape velocity tension tore a hole open around my head. Golden white light poured in and burst outward to an invisible black horizon, and a golden ring of light, 360 degrees around was felt-sensed-seen. A golden-liquid-smoke-ring turning on itself, humming electrically. The golden light issued out of my forehead, wrapped around towards the periphery and when the golden light hit the periphery I was out of body looking at the WHOLE halo. All in an instant.... *Valuable for the technically minded-{*This line of light: in, on and around my forehead was the physical manifestation of ego-the battle ground of focus on self/other. The waist, around an hourglass cube of 8 points, an inside out tetrahedron, inverted on upright pyramid, awareness. The ring around the Ankh, the eye of the needle. A hinge point of focus, the upturning of which is a quantum leap accelerator through Sahasrara. I was Big John holding the cracking timbers in the bottom of the mine(d) so all the world could get out. I was Moses. I had parted the red sea of rage. (Later I would trace the subtle movements on the forehead and see a very wide version of the bottom half of Sri Vidya appear tantalizingly from just above the visual field, the bottom half of Sri Vidya seamlessly entering my body. This geometric light pattern was opalescent.)} .....The WHOLE halo. I saw it looking out, a rapid oscillation of perspectives from outside looking in-and inside looking out. Surely (I thought), 'THE FAR ELECTRON SHELL!' Eureka! When outside looking in, my body form looked like shiny black water with the gold halo sitting just above my 'eye area.' And when I looked out from within, the world was ablaze in a luminous golden light. If you've never seen Alanis Morisette's video 'Thank U India' watch it and see what the golden light looks like and pay attention to her. I stood up. The new man decked out in heavenly glory. I looked up and saw a star (<*>) inside my apartment above in the newly expanded visual field. The star didn't move but my eyes were tied back. I figured this must be Napoleon's star. (Maybe walking on the parquet floor that he and Josephine danced on in the Versailles Palace, maybe some Napoleon spirit entered me.) This star was as terrifically astonishing as finding a halo around one's head. It was a shining white star fixed in my vision. Totally and completely lost in mystic rapture. I went outside. A great weight seemed to be pulling against the centre of my back and another one drawing my navel like a tractor beam toward the centre of Orion's belt. I see a clothespin hanging from an unseen clothesline. It looks like the clothespin is clamped onto thin air. I feel that. <*>I walk out into the parking lot of my apartment. I looked around to the right side of my body and saw a giant leathery-like bat wing covered in ten thousand silvery, green scales. More of the electric mystic shocking, this state of affairs continued unabated for three days. <***>The Abba-Amma Hinge. The Borg Queen meets The Architect. There was an encounter with a wide and diffuse energy. There was some awareness of green and black, a deeply quiet 'feelsound' sort of like hearing far away whales underwater. I thought: "This must be the 'Song of the Sirens.'" There was a deep discord with the sound. At first it had an alluring then repelling emotional 'waviness' to it. The way that the soundfeeling waved over me at first had a similar feel as the wobbly metal chair legs during the earthquake I sat through years before. I withdrew to a more neutral space. Now the emotional landscape was 'sub-potentiating' in that no feeling seemed to be able to reach full fruition. Like a teeming sea of only slightly manifesting feelings or sensations. This seemed like the quantum sea from where bubbles of thought and feelings upwelled from. A source of sorts. It was here that feeling and sensing became distinct. The black and green emotional fog space was juxtaposed against a clear black space that had many widely separated, incredibly fine sparks that were all the colours of the rainbow. (Similar to a clear night sky, just with less, but more colourful, stars.) I didn't want any part of this strangely bifurcated space. The mental fog had become foam. There was a very dangerous, mystifying allure to the green and black space and an image of the nether world flashed before my mind. I suddenly and intimately felt as if I were Jean Luc Picard in front of the Borg Queen. I 'backed away' but there was a shadowy presence behind that didn't retreat quickly enough to escape my awareness. At this point I turned on my computer to get a look at the Borg Queen. A video came on and there she was with those crystallized tears in the centre of each lower eye lid. I could see those same 'shrink-wrapped' tears sitting on my own lower eye lid. I thought she had me for a moment and I felt as if there was a skull cap that covered my forehead. I backed away from the skullcap. This backing away strengthened me but immediately I encountered the nature of that callous strength in an encounter with The Architect. I couldn't help but notice that where the Borg Queen was 'topped up' with tears in the centre of her eyelids, The Architect had marks at the centre of his eyelids which appeared to 'stop up' the tears. This was very serious. Immediately all sorts of images wanted to flood in but I 'put my foot down.' To me this encounter with the Supreme Mother image and the Supreme Father image brought about a desire to perform a test of my supremacy. This tear duct imagery that was set forth brought up the 'Tear of Horus.' This was about as close to a 'crocodile tear' as one could imagine. I thought of infinite malice and sought to superimpose the feeling state required to raise a tear in the presence of this malice. I could not drop a tear of malice into the heart's chalice. ***Later, while meditating in the darkness, I had vividly pictured the lovely Muse that was not my girlfriend. She was so vividly present that she was indistinguishable from my own being. I felt as if I was experiencing her soul from within her soul and when this thought arose, though pure, I backed away as this seemed something unbecoming a light knight. I once heard: "If lightning has struck here it has struck there." A swimming, flowing being of red and yellow and white light. A fire woman, a Siren comes to me out of the void. She's trying to merge with me. She is an instant-karmic reverberation. I am leaning away from the heavy gravity of the lust thought. Holding her off. I had to look at the wings again although the intuition was suggesting not to be Narcissistic (that was something else. Avoid mirrors. No need to antagonize vanity. I had seen my own perfection and the grace somehow seemed contingent upon not heaping laurels upon my own head, and upon not being attached to my form. I 'pictured' punishment for vanity and 'saw' white hands coming from white sleeves reaching to retrieve the halo.) I looked for the wings and they were still there big and wide like twenty feet. *!* The 'leatheriness' of the wings left me feeling rather concerned. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn't sign up to be a bad guy in this drama." On the third day I looked again and this time I could see tiny downy white feather tips starting to emerge from between these tight scales. I was happy again within this sea of elation. I knew the scales were yielding. However, an unease moved in. I realized that the relief at retaining the halo meant I was AFRAID to lose the halo. I knew that I couldn't risk attachment at this point and the lingering fear must be faced. This could be something from the deceiver. All the light and images are externals even when seen inside. I knew bliss could be a barrier. Now I know not to deny the gifts of the Universe, and to say that I was 'put to the test' right here is as understated as I can put it. This was the most precious thing(for it had indeed become tangible) I had ever had, but the very preciousness made me think of 'The Golem.' I was not letting the fear come, like the times when the dog and the demon-dog showed, but I'm on fire and every atom in the Universe knows that I am UP AGAINST IT right now, but somehow the resolution to 'let go' arose. Friends...let me tell you...I am in a mystic fugue...I am with Spirit like Daniel or Elijah or Isaiah or The Prophet himself, and I'm saying "it's not good enough" and I'm trying to not be afraid at my ingratitude before God. To block and hide the fear and trembling... and... HE's everywhere. I MUST hold the form. I won't have another chance... I sob remembering the intensity of this........ ....Now I was given this halo to do with it what I can, and I knew I had to make a decision, accept the possible outcomes of this decision, and be absolutely 100%, certainly sure. The best I could muster was 50. Heaven OR Hell. I pressed on. (Isn't KRIS just a jumble of RISK?) "Nope, I'm not an angel. I'm above that." And I became determined like Samantabhadra. [Only a few days after the beginning of the 'luminous golden light phase,' When dad would ask me to 'talk to someone' I handed him my 'business card'- a bookmark from the temple that had a picture of Manjusri(Boddhisattva of Wisdom and Healing) riding a white lion, holding Sword of Karma to the the sky. I told him: "Find me a priest of any kind, black or white coat, who understands this card and 'I WILL HEAL him of his 'sickness!'"] Attending the upcoming sweat had got me thinking about sacrifice and I remembered how intense the last sweat was. A big sacrifice would be required for this one. I was very upset that I could still feel fear and lust. I knew that to overcome fear I had to be overwhelmed by a threat to the root of the (Id) 'I'dentity, the fear of death. So I thought that as a practise run for the real thing I had better confront a real fear and overcome it. To overcome the lust I knew I had to let go of something by performing a sacrifice and I wasn't about to be scourging myself, or go the Origen route. I knew that fear and lust (or aversion and desire) were two of the highest polarities in the human psychological hierarchy of duality and that this overwhelming sacrifice was required. There was only one answer. My great fear of rape. ****Freud says: "at a certain point one owes one's self, discretion before one's peers." Before Freud said this, Socrates said something like: "the lover of wisdom must be above shame." He even used a reference to a 'cadamite's itch.' I'm pushing this envelope ahead on a silver platter. Don't balk at the envelope or you may miss the message inside. <**>My self-torture was the root of my real fear, torture for rebellion. In seeking to overcome the illusory death fear ('merely' the shell of the torture fear) I was released in ecstasy above the actual fear. I remembered that in mythology and scripture, gods had got busy in the affairs of mortals on many occasions. I thought of Caesar. I imagined 'the prison fear.' After the crazy death struggle. The situation of inevitable rape. I calmed myself like a woman who knows there is nothing she can do to stop it and struggling is only going to hurt. There was a big black Murthi, kind of like an uncarved block. It was somewhat the shape of the four petal chakra. I imagined the insertion and my body reacted totally as if it was really happening. A momentary malice arose and was dispersed by a calm peace that washed over me, separating me and keeping me safe in a warm cloud. Every muscle totally relaxed utterly. Raggedy-Andy. Cold-Fish. The 'invisible man' finished quickly and left. I was mentally tattered, but a peace moved in and pushed any harmful thought or feeling out of the way, and there remained only peace. I had overcome my fear of 'The Tower' or 'Guantanamo' but I was wiped out. I felt certain that I was PREGNANT with my light body self and as such, needed to overcome immediately any feelings of residual strangeness as I didn't want confusing thoughts, resentful feelings and stress hormones to be circulating between me and 'baby.' I walked around after this, holding my 'child' in my belly like a pregnant woman would. I felt the joy of carrying a child first hand. I felt in me a glowing warmth, a centre of serene bliss. I turned on the YouTube and saw a 'man' on Oprah who had become pregnant. A little girl with 8 legs, another girl with two faces, a two and three headed frog, a spider-goat and then a self-milking cow. I loved the 'chimera' like my own children. That out of the way. The lust that was 'liberated' by this sacrificial act wanted to send me into utter depravity. Though I was psychologically capable of homosexuality, it went against my heartmind. I was gay, gay, gay in the sense of some Greek Pan cartwheeling through the grassy meadow, dancing in the reeds alongside the glassy river. Gay the way 'gay' was, before the word was usurped by homosexuality. Beyond the restrictions of 'lowly social norms.' Happy and gay. Gleefully liberated. If I didn't find a way to channel this incredible surge of blissful energy then this joyous feeling coupled with near complete non-restraint would consume me frivolously in my own infernal desire.)] I wasn't bisexual. I was ASEXUAL. The appearance of the Androgyne. **In the ensuing weeks and months, I wasn't entirely successful in fending off the FireWoman(mentioned elsewhere). I was concerned that I may develop a tumour 'down there' and my 'blue boys' made me fancy Krishna again. However, *****On Saturday March 29, 2008 the parinirvana. The Dar Megh Samadhi. Sat Chit Ananda. Anuttara-samyak-sambodhi. Cosmic Christ Consciousness. The Whole Choir of Heavenly Hosts singing Hallelujah! Singing OM! The 'Satori-athon' was only hours away now. It was that special day when everyone turns out the lights for an hour to save power and love the Earth. This would be the auspicious event day. It was also the last Saturday of the month. Sweat Lodge day. It was almost April. I was almost 33. I thought hard about going to the sweat, but what with the halo and the light, I didn't want to disturb the other sweaters. I decided to have my own in the apartment. It had been over a month since I had told my family and girl to leave me alone until further notice and do not interfere in any way, under any circumstances. Even my dog was forbidden to visit. I fasted all day and refrained from smoking anything smokeable all day. *This may upset some but the fact of the matter is, I was smoking weed more or less whenever I felt like it, throughout the bear cave process. It helped fuel the dragon until it had the strength to 'Jack in the Box' into Indra's Net. On the positive side, the shaman precedes the priest in every religion and the shaman fears not a substance. An apology here would be unfounded. I wanted, after getting clean, to tell children how bad it was and to stay away. I could tell that the timid smarties would listen, but the bold clever ones would just say: "He got out of it, so can I." The one thing of utmost importance about this is that all the religions have this process locked down. The drugs that insert a little joy are a lot different from the discipline that empties out the vessel while waiting for the light. Drugs fill one with emptiness, while moving with the spirit empties one into fullness. Our soul is a boat and the spirit the sail. Our aspirations can come as wind for the sail or drugs can come as a fan on the deck or a hurricane without. The spiritual traditions of man know how to make you 'good' so that you can walk in the light longer. The leaders may touch God and become God, and the devotees may get to live with God and get mandalas, crosses, halos, wings, voices, shields, swords and such but it is ALL GOOD on the big Wheel of Fortune. Depending on your heartmind you get your rewards from the treasure house, the King's Bridal Chamber in heaven. Boddhisattvas, Muslims, men of the dark and their ilk, go forth RESTRAINED from the light, saving it all up for the end, and following the rules of 'the light' on the way there. This allows them to be in the cities of gold and light for what is an eternity at the end, near separation and return. Pardon the diversion We're on the big day. I see that I can view the halo from at least ten points. The four diamond points above, four pyramid points below, the whole 8 faceted apparatus from within and the tetrahedron as a whole from 'without.' I keep thinking about the snakes of Shiva and use the five snakes as an internal reference and feed them the five distractions as they arise. I kept thinking that there had to be an interfaiths, I mean, interface, or link between the four facets of the two halo pyramids and the five Shiva snakes. The house is a rockin and no one's comin knockin. It was only on the last day that I decided not to smoke as I wouldn't have smoked if I was going to the sweat and besides it did affect the depth of my breathing, and my blood pressure a little. (It would push up my heart for a bit, then pull it down.) I drank very little as I didn't want to need a bathroom break. I practised 'breath ahimsa' - no sneezing, coughing, spitting, sighing, no allowing saliva to come, no breath holding, nothing to upset the even breath. Anything that was going to upset 'her' was quelled and immediately turned into warmth. Careful. ***At six o'clock I put on Chakra Chants by Jonathan Goldman and started prepping for the eight o'clock sit. Just sitting in a squeaky chair helped to get still. I listened to the CD quieter and quieter, drawing up the audio acuity, until my heart and mind were moving hardly at all. I could smell things blocks away. I actually farted(warts and all) and it smelled like a rose *(I'm not saying that dung smells like roses, I'm saying I passed gas and smelled the aroma of red roses. [I would later correlate smells of this sort to the (black,red,yellow, white circle. Yellow smells, red smells, the synesthesia swirling). More on tasting fluid colour later.] A sweetness seemed to be tasted and the taste had colour. I thought all the sugar I had been eating was 'backflowing' somehow.) At this point I was already hearing the heaven sound, The Omkara -(much different than tinnitus though I came to view my ringing ears as a good thing, as it helped keep me aware while sleeping-- the pineal/inner ear crystal resonance that the magnetism of the headphones was interfering with, a very subtle sensation, became too much.) - The Omkara though I didn't recognize it as such. I focused my attention doing an x-ray from above and outside (Peter Pan's Perspective-pardon the alliteration). I would come down through the skull down through the chakras all the way to the floor and started remembering the orgone generator and its multi levels of layered rare earth metals. I started to pay closer attention, looking for a circuitous pulsing within my spine that my kinesiology sister said existed. There was a circuit between chakras, Schumann resonances and the 'ether.' The seven Schumann resonances are natural vibrations emanating through Earth. The strongest resonance has a frequency measured at 7.83 hertz and from there the amplitude(strength) of the resonance frequencies descends in a scale. The scale from strongest to weakest is 7.83, 14, 20, 26, 33, 39 and the weakest is 45 Hz. The 60Hz signal generated by electrical conduction is even stronger than the 7.83 Hz signal, but that's another story) One resonance frequency layer for each of the standard chakras. It made sense that gratitude, an uncommon virtue, was associated with this last 45 hz frequency, and that the songs of the angels are of such a high pitch. At one point I heard a very high pitch sound resolve out into it's staccato frequency. I may have been hearing the 45 or 60Hz signal as the individual soundwave peaks were very fast, and individually distinguishable. The realization that my mind must be moving faster than that high frequency in order to resolve the sound packets gave me a taste of liquid consciousness. This was a boundary layer where sound became touch. The planets resonated to a layer in the earth and each chakra in the body resonated each to a complementary frequency. The body chakras were each on a string of their own, vibrating with a planet above and a layer of rock in the earth. I started to see my body as strings long and short some with one terminal point in the body, some with two and some with none. I was a marionette, with strings attached chakra to chakra. They were all white at first, then they were clear and coloured by their proximity to a chakra. Side lines (nadis) that avoided the 'colour gravity' of the chakras were white then silver down toward liver and gold up through pancreas. Lateral organs were felt as hardening and peeling in away from the surrounding flesh body. Leaving. Some chakras had 'heavier' gravities and thin colour waves started escaping their boundaries and flashing by. I tried to guess at the number of the light frequency that each of these fleeting colour layers was emitting -- (looking for some harmonic pattern between the light and sound frequencies) --and tried a guess as to what sound frequencies the chakras were broadcasting. I've heard there are twelve archetypes(forces like principalities) above my head (hadn't heard of the twelve petalled Guru Chakra at the time) and I'm watching for these to appear and reveal their links to the astrological houses and the constellations, the completion of 'the columns. Getting grounded. Checking to see if the columns have the safety net stretched out to catch me. The net is not there. I focus my concentration to see the wheels of the chakras. I know the numbers but want to see the loom in action. After realizing that awareness could resolve the high pitch, I wondered if it could come into range to resolve the lower pitched frequencies. I was focusing intently to determine if I could feel, hear or see any indication of a slide from 16 to 12 to 10 to 6 to 4 to 2 (to 8 to 12) to Oneness in the 1000. I pictured how the descent could happen with petals falling away from the chakra in focus like a 'She loves me, She loves me not' game. I found it easier to imagine the petals facing inward from an outer ring. I know that there are supposed to be two cross currents that intersect between the chakras causing the wheels to turn in opposite directions, from their neighbours, but in the same direction as their neighbours' neighbour. This meant that chakra 1(muladhara) was rotating in the same direction as chakra 3(manipura) and chakra 5(vishuddha), while chakra 2(svadisthana), chakra 4(anahata) and chakra 6(ajna) rotated together in the opposite direction. The spinning of three chakras as one led me to start thinking about pairs of trinities. Specifically, interlocking and non-interlocking trinity pairs. I start focusing on 'breathing in Shiva' and on my exhale I focus on 'Shiva breathing into me.' After a few of these 'see-sawing' perpetual inbreaths, I start to swell within. So I focus on exhaling Shiva on the outbreath, and Shiva exhaling into my inbreath. After a few of these perpetual outbreaths, I start to contract. I see that I must balance. Much of this was very exciting but worked opposite from my goal of slowing the heart and sitting like a mountain. I could see that when I reacted emotionally to a thought, my blood pressure would go up and my heart rate increase as the body's arousal system prepped for action. I could see that the lesson about 'not pointing your finger at someone because three are pointing back at you' would become very handy. I realized that as the inner voice criticized my mistakes and failures, and continuously taunted and upset me, my blood pressure would go up and 'unsettle the waters.' I knew that feelings of different intensity were related to surges of hormones in the blood and each feeling would pass just as soon as the hormonal disturbance dissipated from the blood. Each time I reacted to the criticism angrily as if threatened, the rudder on my three finger ship of body, feeling and thought would turn around to address the past and thus pull me out of the flowing river in the present moment. The tail was wagging the dog. Actually a flea biting the tail was wagging the dog. It became obvious that hearing the critic, much less than addressing the critic, was wasted activity. I could see that internal criticism was dependent upon words. Without internal words there would be no criticism and thus no hormonal surge of distracting thought-feelings. I could see that the one finger pointing at me was having a three finger effect. When the clear angerless will (compassion) to silence that voice arose, the voice had nothing further to say. I basically thought to the voice: "Thank You for your suggestions but remember I'm doing this for us and your criticism isn't helping. You know what we are doing will help all of us, so please just listen and watch for now." The intention or emotion that preceded these phrases were the pin that popped the critics bubble. I didn't even have to say the words internally as the emotionally informed intent was the mode of communication, and as the words were about to arise and I saw that the critic went silent, I realized that the subject of the criticism need not speak either so I parked the tongue in place. After all, not a lot of words can be spoken with a still tongue. This understanding unwound a knot of instinctive tension in my stomach where the 'bracing for impact' happens when one anticipates harm. My diaphragm flattened out and became still in the space between the top abdominal muscle and the second one down. I remembered that when I would go running at night, training for soccer, I would sometimes bring headphones. At soccer practise, running would be more difficult without music to distract the mind so I stopped training with music. Meditation was better without music so I turned it off. Just before eight I unplugged everything else, locked the doors, drew the blinds, put on about five layers of clothes to sweat buckets, and turned the chair 90 degrees away from the computer screen and sat facing north. Funny I didn't sweat at all. In fact as the arising of the sweat impulse was felt, it was checked, and that would be another 'subtle body anchor', a platform from which I receded inward. My body was stiff and supple. While doing an X-Ray run from above I moved from 'seeing' to 'feel-seeing.' The picture of the insides started to overlap the subtle body map. This transition zone was a place where synesthesia would begin to expand, linking memory and imagination construct, with subtle body reality, anticipation and experience. With the sensing of the subtle body inside came the sensing of the empty spaces. When I started sensing the empty spaces(ventricles in head, and heart and some of the bigger tubes), many of the 'high resolution pictures' started to distract the mind from feelseeing back to seeing. But the intensity of the concentration had gained such absorption, such momentum, that the added 'weight' or 'drag' of experiencing the sensation of seeing separate from the sensation of feeling, led me to 'reel in' the feelin until it became feelseeing again. This re-rarefication locked me more firmly into feelseeing. (Example: I pictured a femur with knee joint upwards. The smooth bicameral saddle shape of the knee joint, quickly led to an image of the magician holding a light staff and then onto feelseeing the ventricles in the head. The mind would quickly reject the image and go with the feelseeing.) The curves in my hips and head, as well as the 'partial deviation symbol' I felt within, became 'feltseen.' Here I feltsaw a subtle oscillation from full to empty, from flesh to space, in and out. 'Saddlepoints' everywhere. When I simultaneously felt my empty body spaces within AND WITHOUT of 'my body,' this simultaneous, dual awareness of moving emptiness sandwiching 'my body form,' led to a crash together of sorts. The flickering triangular awareness of solid-liquid-emptiness yielded back into one of motion in the now. 'I' went from being outside and inside and the thing between both inside and outside, to fluid awareness, to a 'mixing in space' between emptiness and solidity, a place where I would start to feelsee the circulation of prana. (A memory of 'the moist, the cool, the dry, the warm' from Pre-Socratic Philosophy class came to mind, and thus helped 'tag' that element of the awakening.) It was as I moved out of this flickering space that a tangible form in the internal emptiness was seen. In the upper throat and into the upper nasal I felt as if the whole space was full at once and this fullness imprinted on the upper throat walls of the nasal passageways, like a stupa. This brought in some of 'the light.' I saw a wavy obelisk (like a mirage) within and the faint outlines of passageways up and down. In a similar fashion to the way the image of the 'saddled knee femur wand' merged into the reality of feelseeing the ventricles, so too would this 'stupa-obelisk-emptiness body' merge into a feel-seeing further back in the brain, near the light staff. My spine was like a spatula, the pelvic bones a mixing bowl. Mixing, or 'Mortar and Pistiling' this bowl, loosened muscles in first and second chakra to allow unrestricted deep breath. **This loosening led to a neat marionette sensation as the spine was erect but loosing the foundation created the sensation that the spine was dangling from the shoulders or might fall through the pelvis. It was neat when the puppet was loosening down, but the refraction that came back up was neutral but intense. My awareness came flying up from below and when it arrived at the perplexing shoulder-spine cross, it just washed up into my skull where it felt there may be one thin thread suspending me from the AIR. My bones seemed to have become devoid of connective tension. Staffs and Snakes The settling of the spine (without the training wheel meninges) in relaxed straightness took cooperation and only a couple seismic ripples were felt. When first felt, the spine (staff) rippled snakelike and this outward rippling led the meninges 'staffs' to wobble into 'snakes' also. When this happened, I made a slight adjustment and the three snakes became one wide 'mat', similar to a wide flat dreadlock, that folded under me like a cushion. This cushion, folded under, seemed to be a physical hindrance so I leaned up from within and pushed down from below to be sure I was very straight. As the breath moved into the nose, down the throat, to a point of indrawing further down, it started to feel a little raspy and I realized my mouth was open and drying out my throat. I closed my mouth and parked the tongue against the roof of the mouth. As the breath settled to a point further down again there seemed to be a 'critical distance' where the breath 'split' and started to be skimmed off by the head away from the lungs. The initial noticing of the separation of the breath was encouraging, and I momentarily lost the separation. The upper part of the breath was very exhilarating so I focused back down into my belly. Hiding Reaper I remembered the fear of imminent death, of hiding one's breath movement from the reaper. The need to be totally still. My shoulders had been still for awhile now but I could feel the slight rising and falling of my diaphragm, as I repeatedly focused my breath down further. I had to ease up on pushing the breath. When I did, a calm stillness arose. The lungs and heart began to embrace each other. It became unclear which organ was drawing the breath, but there was no external movement. It felt as if the breath was being drawn from the nose, then the mouth, then from the throat, then it felt like the heart and lungs were just breathing into each other. Recognizing the level of stillness sent out a body wash of pleasure, but this pleasure was quickly drawn to the centre of the mind, away from the body, revving up the focus. External stillness had come and the image of 'body as geode' appeared. With the appearance of the geode image, awareness was quickly organ focused, and feelseeing and orienting organs to chakras happened by way of a Kabbalist image. I could see a type of layering and gating between organs and a simple three platform and three lingham geode body structure seemed to sum up the internal awareness of body. There were no words from above to disturb the heart nor any sex concerns, food needs, or breathing difficulties below to upset the placid setting the heart was now in. This simplification of focus released a lot of weight. My body felt very light. (I thought exploring this might lead to ACTUAL flight.) This relaxed my body very deeply. (Later, Something like this would just about take down the storyteller and this story with it.) I felt as loose as a 5 year old.]...unrestricted deep breath. >>>>>>>>>> *I read: 'One need not go to the mountaintop. One need only 'close up the windows, shut the doors' and look within. It was closing time. I decided that my family would just have to accept finding my stinky apartment and dead rotting body because that was what they were going to find if I didn't achieve the goal of the Path. And it didn't take long. Settled, settling. >>>>>>>>> The dragon riding was very useful to tire the body and thus quiet the mind. I watched my heart beat. I felt it. I realized that images and words were still moving about. I indicated, and the words and images stopped. All the senses of mind had nested together resting between the eyes in their home of consciousness. 'I' in Awareness. Only wave spectrum feeling oscillating between a point source deep within the mind and washing out through my outer body layers. Vibrations. I was still looking, trying to see, and I knew that I had to go past seeing, past the sense root of feeling/touch. Subtle-body time now. Intuition and will of intense concentration. The engine room sounds. Damp it. Quiet. Careful. All wordless. Passes through (the trick with distractions is to not touch them, they touch you just don't touch back. Itchiness will yield to 'Ariadne's threads' a feeling of being covered in spider webs. Leave it be. It will pass.) The door shut on the front and back door of the senses. External and Internal wandering stopped. Just the breathing apparatus and the quiet symphony of fluid sounds. Lub Dub,Ham Sa. I watched how sometimes the diaphragm went up though the breath poured down and other times when the diaphragm was down and the breath didn't even enter into the lungs but more or less just circulated around the nose a bit. I saw how to 'let go' of the breath. I could see how to die a couple ways. I could see that I could push my breath beneath my diaphragm and just let the air absorb into the lungs and the diaphragm collapse on the end of the breath. I started to see the whole breathing apparatus in its constituent parts. I saw the interpenetration of respiratory system, nervous and circulatory systems, sensory arrays and digestive system. Nerves in glands on organs on nerves on flesh on bone on Void. Panic kept trying to overtake me but as my football coach would say during dire defensive difficulties: "This is what the fans came to see." *How I first noticed 'Liquid Consciousness' or non-perceptive perception. Time and again recognition of duality arose so time and again I returned to one-pointedness, by letting go of the discerning faculty and merging back into the stream of emptiness flowing in to no-thing. I couldn't tell if forefingers and thumbs were still pressed together, and wanted to be sure. I caught myself before reflexively looking, and realized that I could see clearly ahead of me. My eyes were closed and the room was in complete darkness, but even such being the case, there was a clear light, like the moon in a dark forest, that lit up the room and flowed through my eyelids unimpeded. I saw that in the stillness, my point of focus could recede behind the plane of awareness and almost view the visual field in its entirety. I dared not to move the eye muscles, but I reasoned that in the near absence of tension the decrease in movement had brought about an increase in muscular control which could be relied upon to move the eyelids ever so slightly. I had seen a painting of Buddha with those wavy eyelids and found that the centre of the eyelids could be raised and lowered like a stage curtain, without actually closing. However, I as yet had not found out if my thumb and forefinger had remained in contact. So I 'went' down my arm into my hand and felt the stillness within surrounding the movement within. I could only approximate where the different flowing streams of my finger and thumb paralleled, intertwined, approached and diverged from one another. Breathing Toes My breath became shallow and the heart beat became weaker. I am breathing 'from my toes' yet it is very shallow. A 'hair's breadth' from gasping, yet air circulates comfortably. Towards the end, the heart stops beating normally and starts taking lots of shallow beats instead. This is like an intermediate switch over zone where the semi autonomous nature of the breathing yields and the heart becomes further subject to conscious control. Pranayama. The reactive mind wants to gasp. Damping. 'Relax, there's lots of air still attached to your blood cells floating around.' Quiet. This is the frontier. Most of the body is still, a mountain where some wind gets into the cracks, an underground stream is singing ever so faintly and no sounds are heard moving in the deep cave and mine system. I started to see that the heart had become exactly synchronized with the breathing. The very inhalation would make it beat. I could see the root of hiccups and sneezes. A big inhale would kill me dead instantly or set the heart to racing so I was careful as you can imagine. I started to wait longer between the beats. Sometimes the heart would go back into auto pilot if I tried to hold my breath too long too quickly. I could see how to get my awareness out 'in front' of the beat. Anticipate the beat so the heart starts to trust my breathing. Slower and slower careful to always breathe before she needs the breath so she doesn't have to 'ask.' There is only this slowing, and easy returning to the centre direction. She's going to sleep. Things start to happen that I'm not doing. I picture the meninges along my spine. I picture each of them as cords of electricity. I'm expecting a long wavelength, six foot 3 inches in amplitude from the other side of the galaxy to arrive. I'm changing my whole body into an antenna. Crystal tubule pinealocytes in my mind's eye, crystals in my ears, focused on the quartz in the ground and my water nature. The quartz is going to magnify the light through the water in my blood-body, directly feeding the mitochondria and I am going to BE LIGHT. I am a Bose-Einstein Condensate and I'm going to be sitting on a photon. I'm going to be the viewer seeing the photon unfold in the gel. I am ramrod stiff. Effortlessly still in deep repose. I am waiting for a column of light to descend from above. I am like a surgeon who stretches out my hand and the tool is there. I don't think. The technique unfolds itself. My chest is wide open. My body has become more accustomed to stillness than movement and I detect a subtle sway to the left. I probably moved a millimetre and it felt as if I leaned against an electrified fence that was running down the 'meninges cord' on my left side. As intense as this meninges shock was, it was released. Where there had been a wormhole(as in- the cave of a wiggler) below, there was now a Wormhole (as in- Einstein-Rosen Bridge). The Christian symbol of the 'P' superimposed over the 'X' comes to mind. The point on the top of my head traces out the 'P'. I gently swayed back to centre, and held myself there, above the bottomless void. Gandalf long gone, plumetting after the Balrog. Body, a stick. A head on two shoulders on two sticks with a heart in the emptiness between them. Black void flickering in and out. My halo was 'on.' I could feel it but refused to look. Internally it felt and looked as if the halo had removed the top of my skull. I felt an enormous ball resting on my open skull. Inside I 'lifted' this ball up off its skull perch. And I could see this golden androgynous mannequin-'Ken Doll'-like figure(Atlas) shrink down this enormous planet sized globe into a marble sized golden ball and start spinning it on his finger as if to say: "No Biggie." This ball was THE Ball that would fall through the halo and the throat centres, taking them all together into The Word chamber. The nectar of immortality. The amrita. I was letting go of vision and feeling. This was the supreme supreme. Too many things happen at once as our non-linear awareness dawns as pure witnessing of the absolute state of the heart of the cosmos, when the one aware of the I AM presence, is revealed in magnificent splendour. My awareness is oscillating back and forth, feeling the heart inside the chest cavity and feeling the heart from within the chambers. The lines that were the meninges are pulled sideways out the sides of my body(without feeling). I see many white arms moving to peel back layers from my torso from centre to left and centre to right, until my body has been cleared out of the awareness of any touch impressions. I 'see-feel' at the same time a competing image of a big flower blooming. The senses are offering up different interpretations of the inputs on the frontier of the ineffable. (My bones are crystalizing, 'Meat' warming.) Subtle bodies begin to yield to the inflowing gravity. Physical form and subtle body form, dissolving into the flow. Body becoming imagination. In the heart, out of the heart, holding in stillness looking for the light in the sushumna. I'm tracing where the geomagnetic field line might be active in the centre of my spine. I am an antenna and Cosmic Rays, Radio Waves, Gamma Rays, neutrinos don't care so I'm careful not to touch the antenna (my body). Intense pressure within. When the senses are fusing, sensation is all that's left in focus. I'm focusing also at the centre of my mind. Not looking in or out. Found a subtle body that showed me how to hang in nothingness inside a black cord in the blackness. This black cord, a place of pure focus beyond internal and external wanderings. Like the co-rotating rings from the time machine in 'Contact' I'm watching three rings moving in three different directions and looking for a central point to watch from. The brain is diverting all the energy and an oscillation between the heart and the agna is pulsing, lub dub, heart brain, lub dub; Tinkerbell taunting the Angel Evenstar and the Swan behind. The heart beat is non-local it's moving into a beat entrained with and by the movement of the-- [*check out 'Tetrahedron Merkaba Meditation' (9:49) on YouTube; watch the centre area to see a similar pattern to the heart's] ----rings in the head. (Cold then quick heat balance without thought. The body is not even an idea) It is being pulled quickly, in short bursts to and fro in a few too many different directions to follow. The rings are at first flashing around the inside of my scalp and recede inside the skull into the outer matter and to the inner matter. I realize there's more than one ring location within the brain. I overlay an image near the centre of the brain of the three counter-rotating circles. I picture a crystal ball with blood flying through it like water on the windshield in a car wash. Red then pink then white then red again. Inside the ball a further oscillation- the chakras each want their own awareness- the one pulls away, the three linghams appear and change back into the one ball. ****[Just before the shards come together, an image above of a satellite mounted cosmic ray amplifier prepping for the down flowing white prana tornado from above,(The rings would culminate in the rotating 'Silver K'-three silver lines each rotating until the 'K' spine straightens into place, the pin falling in the tumbler. Two silver lines left moving, a White light beam and two shiny lines still rotating. 'Paint it black.' Nearing the nucleus. One line rotating, image of nectar in bellybutton, Adam sees God in the valve closing of the inner heart, finger tip touching, valve closing....] ---The colour is red. I have to open the red curtain, part the sea, with the windshield wipers as the rings. The image isn't quite right. The subtle bodies of the 'really real' start 'pulling' against the image. There are two chambers. One down front another up behind (picture the circles of 'p' and 'd' overlapping) and a wide auditorium below, the whole thing trying to open into the 360 tunnel vision. Holding closed. I see-feel the lateral crossing imagery of right to left inversions. The inner brain like a baby in a womb. Cozy, reclining in nectar bed, watching silver screen. (The light staff, the pyramid topped obelisk that ends muladhara and is inserted into the sphere) The meninges move apart. Then the light staff with the ball on top straightens, pericarpal parting from the flesh glove; it leans straight up, touching the pyramid into the sphere, the Forte 'f' symbol becomes a line. The 'parting of the flesh' trying to let 'the light' into the moving velvet chamber. Something else, above and behind but within. Two places at once then three. Pull it in tighter. *Tri-oscillating. The three temptations lead to the one. The 'Om' Lemniscate becomes the body. Witness the Tripura Rahasya and the Bindu together. [The 'K' in the void---the four states of what would crystallize the Big Bang Flash into the 'Gold, Clear and Mercury Orb. Gold, white, something else...a clear feeling not painful but touched in the brain(black, blood awareness), above the auditorium below(back door-bardo), the King is above behind, the spirit the centre, the soul mother down below. A cascade of colours. Red, pink, white, red, soft black, clear blue-black light, and a gold spark. Each ring is moving something and the circuit is going to be amped up into the mind. Each ring is linked to a 'bandhu', a ring near the column of three linghams. I am three body linghams stacked. Wings back each one. The three (and a half) areas of the Kabbalah coming into view. The heart stops and I'm above it in my head. Safe at home. The tomb is sealed. The throat rock is closed, air is not going in. A couple inhales into the nose without the aid of heart, only mechanical movement of nostrils and I feel the prana circulating deep in my brain. Am I breathing air into my brain or is prana breathing my brain? Nothing I would call 'I' is breathing and my heart is flat-lined. My head is the OM now. Now the forehead is the OM. I feel like a baby, comfortable in my crib with my blankets pulled up snug around me. Business time. Words arise: "Better get on with it eh?" Next come the words "What do you want?"(that's my voice, furious! My heart kicks once, like a baby in a womb, cracking the bottom lingham) *First temptation-(almost verbal) my family will be like the Rothschilds the Windsors and the Sultan of Brunei of the future. I internally shake my head. **Second temptation-Movie/Rock star, tour the circuit world fame. (This comes as a single condensed image) Again no. Becoming disinterested. The focus of concentration now thoroughly within. ***Third temptation (beginning)- I'm squeezing my eyes so tightly, that internally I decide that Homer the Ancient Greek was blind and if I have to sacrifice my eyes they can go. I'm nearly crushing my eyeballs with the force of my eyelids. They feel like jelly and I think they might be turning into 'cat's eyes.' It is like squeezing a tomato until a seam opens and the juice comes out. I'm pretty sure that they are going to explode and I'm just trying to settle myself for whatever strange sensation exploding eyeballs may evoke. Holding within the winge. I remember Timothy Leary-"Explode your eyeballs and your earballs." 'Helen Keller could handle it.' says the voice. I bear down, 4th gear becomes 5th. My ears are going to explode with my eyes and my pineal as well. I thinkfeelsee it is going to end with a crack in the glass, the inflowing of the fluid sea of black/red/yellow/white awareness will quickly become sparky black and I'll be on my way. I am OK to go. I'm going to die but I'm going to the light first. *A saccade-like feeling image. <Throat column-then-spine column-then-spinal cord column> Maybe the aortic pressure had flattened out during decompensation. *Another image. Within the black thread column, the light column is coming together, formed of grey and white columns, from above and below. *A large composite image. ***Light from above. My body(bottom lingham), Chakra 1-3 are the Tower of Babel, The middle lingham oscillating between a tight heart knot, and an open blackness, and the top, a tornado of heaven light filtering down into a column. Under the bottom lingham and outside the physical body, but a culminating force of gravity on the body, is 'Dante's Inferno.' I can see the light inside and from outside, the tornado light into the black glass body on the white pyramid of babel. The body is an hourglass. The bottom is the white tower of Babel, The top an inverted black pyramid. Below the tower an inverted pyramid, red hell fire pit and above the black pyramid the white prana tornado. The heart a golden lynchpin pearl. I am outputting the max effort that I have to give. I am at the very pinnacle of my strength. The zenith. I'm running on a fume. I'll never be this strong again in my life. There will never again be the perfect circumstances that there are right now. I am moments from death. I'm gonna explode, and this is where the spark happened. From in front, the future is accelerating towards me; and from behind, comes rushing the past to find me moving into the timeless eternal now. ***The third temptation - (ending, part 2) I'm trying to look around before, at best, my eyes and ears explode or, worst, I stroke out and my heart bursts. I'm trying to 'see from inside my eyeballs.' I'm trying to focus my awareness into one single cell inside my eyeball as to 'get a better angle' to see sideways. It's like a heavy twirl while leaning on the 'Tilt-a-Whirl' at the carnival. The optic fluid a twirling, fluid awareness moving into the eye. At first I'm in the middle of the eye, pushing, looking left. Then, in the dark I 'push-swish into my eye' looking right (back to the centre), tracing out a horizontal 6-9 o'clock. The 6-9 push swish into liquid eye consciousness had the force of someone shouldering down a door, and then a further turning inward, from 9-11 o'clock, that has the subtlety of a sideways glance. I see a white reflection within! In the centre of 'me.' At first it looks only like a sliver of moonlight in the dark water but then it looks like a smile and a gleam of an eye in the central dark water column. Ishvara the Cheshire Cat. Recognizing this glint of light snapped the eyes forward to SEE.) (ending, part 1) I think to myself: "Hey, where's Jesus? He must be around here somewhere?" At the same time the third temptation is coming down, it is not 'my' voice: "You will be the leader of the NAU, commander in chief of the world army and..." (something darker than I care to say. Darker I say, because I was looking around for Jesus or the light and not paying much attention to anything but the looking). Looking for Jesus and I realize that I am in His space, I am in His sandals, I am looking through His eyes and my/our eyes snap forward... During all the festivities in Flatlineland, the 'rock was rolled away from the tomb.' My mouth parted ever so slightly, and the tiniest wisp of cool air, passively sought out the warm darkness below....The 'silver 'K' mirror tumblers' stop moving and coalesce into the mercury mirror/ Portal of liquid light-the storeroom of sense impressions-the 'mercury mirror column'. Nitrous. I see, in a blue spark of sand, to the end of the universe. I see the silver reflection on the event horizon and the source of light beyond. The thousand yard stare. No. This is a thousand parsec stare. "The great 'OM,' the Lemniscate written in ME! The sublimation of prana from matter-my body." Most are familiar with brain-waves measured in the four regions: alpha-beta-delta-theta wave regions, but most are not familiar with Gamma waves. Monks who meditate for decades experience 'gamma spike' brain-wave activity, and some who have many good karmic-accumulating lifetimes in a row, experience a Gamma flood. This is a Gamma SOLITON. A cosmic wave "hello." It seemed God had thrown a line from the other end of the sky with a teal-blue-green fish as bait. And it was this Piscean bait that would lure the turtle and thereby pull dragon from the deep black cave at the bottom of the ocean of samsara. She would fly from the water like a winged whale. A flying Moby Dick. *I see a wide region of white light, increasing in brightness ahead. I try to structure the light' and a four square black window frame, feebly frames the light. Then a nine square window frame, 'frames the light.' Then four again. They frame the light like a sandbox frames the earth. These frames were recognized as 'constructs,' abstract realities that did not belong in this light. They were like a toothpick in a bonfire. The light was total, enveloping me from within and without, a lightning that bathed and purified Adam in every atom of every cell. Then, I see... **A little golden, transformer, bird-headed-being standing before the Queen being fed. He's childlike in stature next to her and he has strange 'perchy-bouncy' bird-like legs and as soon as I see the golden bird headed transformer being, he's in front of me and I see his liquid-green gold head-piece accents, and he inwardly transforms(implodes or infolds) into a roundish ball of liquid gold in front of the Egyptian Queen (Egyptian because 'the construct' was a white sandy desert scene, an ocean of pearl seeds.) I know this is my heart of hearts, my Soul this liquid golden ball. I look left and see a grey stone Buddha adorned with an ornate headdress, sitting in lotus on top of a lotus pedestal, with his left hand up, as if saying STOP. Beside him to the left, is a horizontal grey black hole. I can go into that hole or... A white being of light (!) fringed by the sheerest wisp of green takes hold of my hand from the right! It's Green or White Tara(no doubt). The Great Cosmic Mother. She touches my hand. Amazing Grace. Hyper-saturated bliss. There is a turtle chasing a fish and the two form into the ourobouros; a green circle forms in the centre like the many scales on the wings. The green circle is a mirror portal. I'm through the mirror looking glass and I hear 'THE FATHER' say: '\"What's your job?"/' It came from a golden white light in a square recessed doorway through a thick stone wall. And it also came from 'The Word Chamber.' These three words resonated the thick stone. These three simple words... "'What's your job?'" And then he shows me the room with all the philosophers and I hold a moment here. A smile spreads on their faces. I see the black pearl and see it's beginningless beginning from the monad, its formation and its completion, a grain of sand that grew to become the pearl of my eye. (I would come to see 'Masonic Logos' by way of gold bars framing blackness supporting black olive pearls. Ripe purple grapes on the vine. Other logos were advanced landing parties. They were like dark empty vessels that prana forms would fill in with light. These holy 'columns,' almost at the limits of form.) I feelsee a cool ring of air has tumbled down the long shaft into the lungs leaving the throat coarse and cool in its wake. For a moment, the body wants to react to this, I only move deep inside, slightly straightening in response, but careful to avoid that electric meninges shock. I feel the top part of my spine move inside my head, like the tail end settled down when first grounded. (The 'Staff becomes the snake' again). A shudder down the middle. This movement inside opens 'THE Channel.' The white 'meninges' framing the opening void. It feels as if a massive flower is blooming in my chest, like many hands are opening an onion, or a spring is bubbling up, out and forward from the heart. The empty black-grey air-column is backed by the big white column. A luminous-lava-laser-column of light is about to fill in the greater white column. The meninges and columns of white and black are the very keys on the piano. Agna holding the strings of the quiet heart. Guru holding agna. It is cold inside my empty heart. The only 'sight' is grey cool moist meaty altar with a wisp of white smoke above it like mist on a serene lake. When the greyness clears into the full then the empty blackness, this smoke seamlessly would become 'the light.' The air that is the smoke, enters and touches the serene grey awareness. I'm in the Black Supreme Void (The blackness separated from the grey image). I am the blackness. A trap door behind the heart (ananda gandha) opens. I'm holding to an 'image' of the moneychangers. I see that my love of Canada(refusal to let go of 'The Patriot') is blocking my way(keeping me grounded). I think: 'Great! Now all I get to do is read the Old Testament.' Looking back from above and in front, looking down to the left I see me on the stone throne, hands drape the 'mail of light' over my chest... I extend the 'line' to include North America in my purview... remember the third temptation... see the moneychanger answer... let go... <Armageddon> From space: I see the earth is engulfed in a creamy white-yellow light (the same colour as the light mail), a glowing atomic explosion with my face on the leading edge of the mushroom cloud rocketing up to the left into outer space (this seems to be a mirror-like reflection of the male mars symbol). Hrit! The top of my head is an altar in my heart and my bottom end has rushed up to sit on my head(the altar) in my heart for a microsecond. ((*Very important-This microsecond of head under rear, in the heart-this microsecond was where I could see the CRASHING, geometric transformation equations, the silver room fruit, the techne and the technology. This silver bodily imploding on the cusp of the event horizon would have a sort of correlate in the CREATION of the opalescent Sri Vidya portal that I would see later culminate in the panoramic farsight 10,000 angels, swirling sky vision.)) OK- back to the edge of the end. Everything is being sucked into the heart, into darkness and then I decide to start to breathing again. SUPERNOVA. The suction in my chest is so great I'm aware that I may swallow my tongue if I breathe from the diaphragm so I open my throat before I breathe. The opening of the throat(opening the tomb and dissolving the rock) was the grey black channel where I would first perceive the coming of the light. (A subtle but astounding conversion of smoke into light, Cosmic prana connecting the grey chamber, the pineal portal and above.) The perception of expected location was wrong and I was quickly in my spine in the 'real' dark tunnel, where the light column would enter. I don't know how(what) I decide(sing) to start my heart again, I just kind of remember the 'subtle body array/location for the 'switch' and she's up and running again. In the non-linear time of this event, the 'What's Your Job?'... coupled with the subtle body feeling of THE WORD. These two together were the spark of everything. In this place where 'THE WORD' comes through, I see the results of the objects of the senses as a source within. I see the 'location' of the sense memories and their storage. (Later, I see this storage as a library below, I would wander through, picking out heavenly 'books.') Later I would see a Buddha Thangka that had six sound syllables emerging from a blackness in the centre of the chest. I could see that this Thangka image was related to the source of 'The Word.' <****>[Einstein (Ain-Hebrew word for 'the light' and stein-a mug)or ole Al 'Light-Mug'(surely he has drank from 'the cup') talked about the dilation of time and contraction of space and Blake said something about eternity in a moment---The heart is stopped 5 to MAYBE 8 seconds 'earth time' tops---The 'smoke on the water that becomes light'---this event is like the spark of the whole thing. {When the smoke becomes the light, and the reflection on the infinite black sea is seen 'as reflection,' at the same time one sees the white light at the centre of the mind(one becomes the source light and the reflection.)} the uprushing light is seen as a white dot, then a white line with a 'yellow, quarter-spiral dot' twisting up just behind the light. A chase from the dim altar chamber. This twister and the light beam are seen as the unwinding DNA that frame a quantum leap, two poles side by side, a body wide beam, the width of the length of the outstretched DNA strand connects to the moon, and flashes into total whiteness; a momentary lightning-mirror. It's the 'Big-Bang.' I see everything in the flash. The flash is the creation of the universe... Between the upwelling white dot(the spark, 'the chase' of the four colours) and the flash, there is: 'inside the mirror room with the corotating stalactite/stalagmite mirror column in the centre' like Neo's architect construct or Dr.Xavier's meditation dome. In the mirror room I see the drop of superfluid light that would explode out into the Supreme awareness of the Fountainhead of God. In this moment I see the origin of every piece of technology or equipment or tool or book or idea that ever was. The space where 'all that is, was, and shall be' comes from. The sum totality of this human experience. The techne and the technology. The akashic records in a blink. The shimmering gold of the Palace Treasure Room pours into me through the keyhole. I am a weapon of Mass Creation. This mirror room, this silver lining to the golden sphere, where the 'curve-fitting mercury chaos-geode' would form and later cool off inside the lingham into the 'purple and white amethyst geode' for the shelf. This mirror room with the column in the centre had as it's negative image a donut or torus. The impression and the wax. The diamond faceted, Abha torus, Shiva that would hula hoop inside the mercury geode Shakti mirror room. The goose, the gander and the Golden Egg.] TAT TVAM ASI! Imminent Transcendence. Immortal Spirit. IT IS I AM! IT's happened! There is only slight awareness between the sliver on which I'm sitting and the sliver on top of my scalp. The reality of these two slivers are only slight as my hair has thinned on the path and my rear has flattened. These two slivers are echoes of a memory. Within the echo of a memory happens the Spirit-soul union. The Androgyne union- cervical orgasmic soliton outside below and fountainhead of God outside and above, culminating the white centre column. The Wand of The Magician. Muladhara to Mahan. Between the two there is only upwhirling ecstasy in the stilled, porous, body form. All awareness is a Belousov- Zabotinsky autocatalyzing ecstasy machine. The intensity of this joy is many orders of magnitude outside the limits of all the previous combined events. The Cross was nothing. The halo and wings but a glimmer. But this is the mountain top. Beyond, cities of gold. Kun Lun Mountain to Amitabha Land. A surging, circulating moist cool intermingling with dry warmth. A perpetual cool breeze drying me off in the warm sun, my skin no longer a barrier. Pain and comfort balanced, bracketed outside of me. I am the centre. My whole existence is moving like the gamma ray jet at the centre of the black hole. Downward from the base and upwards from the top. There is nothing between and this emptiness is utterly full and teeming. I am as alive as a rock on Mars, as the centre of the sun, as the things in the ground under my feet, as I am in this body. I am beyond Turiya. I am shaking the Kulachakra. Beings all around the world felt this event. My whole awareness was in my mind then Atlas let it fall, with the falling of the breath, in a single drop that passed into the open tomb, through the mirror tube that is the corotating stalactite/stalagmite mirror column, and this drop alighted on the grey altar, where the infinite cosmic heart found fusion. Then upward >fvission< I held the heart of the Universe with my will, a piece of sand in the mucus. For a brief moment the internal voice points out that, the great blazing fire that had consumed me, doesn't have everything. Would I like for it to grab the thin wedge that is my bottom and the thin strip that is my top and throw them into the fire too. I give the voice a "gimme a break look" and my internal (construct witnessing, cheshire cat) eyes are sealed. Seeing is too far a descent from witnessing and Being. I remember reading that Buddha said about his enlightenment: 'I saw it's arising into awareness, coming into being, passing from being.' I figure this must have been a 'clever means' to avoid talking about it, because though it is true, the dawning of the vastness of being happens as if in infinite slow-motion. The transcendental immanence of Being, unfolds at the zero velocity of light speed. For about three hours I sit still and know that I am God, showering in grace and radiating boundless love, immersed in the ocean of nectar beyond all things. Swami says about this: "The mental function of clutching at the thoughts ceases, and only the samskaras that don't cause any disturbances remain." (Short Conceptual Detour- I heard that a mother retains cells of the father's and of the son's in her body, after birth. The son has some of both and dad has some of mom. I believed that there was a 'cache of cells' somewhere in the body maybe locked in the belly button, that would unwind at 'the end' and douse the blood with a memory from the beginning.) Anyway. Bathing in the light. Being light. *****At first attempt to disengage, I back away. I back out...This 'backing out' is tangentially related to the Bliss Cross experience when the structure of 'flesh on a bone cross' emerged and I could 'see' the separation of flesh from bone. This time the backing out would be-the spirit from body and through the black portal of separation... There's a fire breath pranayama exercise that can result in a 'shocker.' The arms will fly to the sides and the person will bend right back, face to the sky to let the steam out through the mouth. I see that this stinger, is the opposite of leaning out of the upwhirling bliss. It seems that this is a 'warning image' inside to remind me about the previous meninges sway where I felt the electric pole on the left. Time gets really stretched out 'earth time.' Also this leaning back away from the upwhirling stream shows the opposite of the spatial contraction. (Moving out to the limit without moving) I'm sure I didn't move a millimetre, but inside, I leaned back far enough and saw, the upwhirling stream was coming up from at least as far down as my belly button (though I couldn't be sure, I was attached to it at all.)... It felt like a long slow sway backwards, but it happened in a nanosecond. So far away from body awareness did it seem, that the message controlling the body from the centrifuge of opal light was so casual that I was just 'back in it.' I tossed my iceberg body in an inferno with the casual flick of a lady dropping a kerchief... All right! All right! In the void for a micro eternity of condensed infinite space, getting back in the stream. The warning image was so far 'out front' of me in time that I had already long ago adjusted to right stillness and though the sway back in was slow as well, I would be hard pressed to say that anything resembling 'I' was 'outside the universal stream at all, save for this 'image.' I WAS the void, from at least the waist up. A warning to stay balanced in the centre. Don't want to go from light speed to 5 miles per hour too quickly without inertial dampeners engaged. This backing out, when I was the void and everything was a column of rotating rainbow swirls. I back out of the upwhirling fiery stream of Bliss/Wisdom/Flow/Sight(sorry) into the void(Textureless Blackness). Awareness IS of the nature of the void (YES!). I see the stream upwhirling, a technicolour kaleidoscope bliss column, akin to the 'Fire Woman' in sight but carrying Sat-Chit-Ananda intensity. And I am leaning away into the black, distancing myself(like pushing away the Fire Woman) from it. I lean back into the jetstream of upward evenflowing consciousness. The upwhirling Mindstream is the water, the 'I' awareness - the finger on the hose. The void is the hose. There is no need to do anything or to go anywhere. The mountain of study-life-practice came up and the sat-chit-ananda tornado of light came down. HE IS ME and I AM HIM. I am all that. That's all. It's all good. It is built and they will come. I get up and I still feel this way. It 's not waning. I know why Buddha and Ramana and Sri Ravi Shankar sat still for so long. Buddha and the Prophet my black anchor, Jesus the light and I AM The ALL. The Big Kahuna. I walked out of my room and draped myself across the couch. I can feel Buddha's body when he's laying on his arm. The sacred heart is ablaze, the mind of the Buddha, the Tathagata manifesting. I walk and I finally am struck with a force in my left side (spleen) of such intense, penetrating pain, that I fall to a knee. Before I even hit the floor I know it's the spear of destiny piercing my side. I AM the sword of Karma. I am The Christ there is no doubt. I sit on the couch. I see that the pancreas got me to the mountain top and after I will have to 'tie a rope' around my liver to keep myself near the top to pull others up from, risking Pratyekahood. <****>I'm talking directly to The Father. I see the vulture pecking my liver, I'm telling The Father: "I'll stay tied to the rock for a 1000 years for them." My iniquity deserves worse. I see a scene where there's 1000 seats on the 'Spirit Train.' As the 999th passenger passes me and I'm about to turn and go on it, a pudgy little lady (somebody's grandmother) comes up and looks at me. I let her go ahead. Everybody is very upset. The door stays open and it seems another seat has become available. However, a little saddhu with an orange robe and very serious dark eyes is looking at me from where the pudgy little lady just was a moment ago. I grab him and pull him into the light and as I see that he's not going to be allowed on, I swing around and toss him into the arms of the light and the Spirit Train is off without me but with an extra Saddhu stowaway. <****>Looking at the Buddha bead curtain. I remember a budgie that died in my hands and my utter frustration at being unable to revive her. Beside me a feather appears out of THIN air and lands on the floor. My side again; the spleen. Before I'm felled I see the symmetry of the separated chakra system in pristine stillness in the pre-fusion state, organ halves of the central chakra yin yang yet to be fused. The Kabala-Chakra 'before and after' hologram. All the dominos about to be tipped. The Button about to be pressed. Joyous agony. Beautiful suffering. My whole being a hive of sacred honey. I am Winnie the Pooh, I am the Holy Grail, The Philosopher's Stone. The Rosetta Stone of the Holy Spirit at the Tower of Babylon. My lungs are tablets. I look beside me: another feather has appeared. I didn't see this one flutter down, but that doesn't matter to me. I can't handle anymore. I see the wings, the halo. I know now. I know now. I know now. They sent a poet this time. And it isn't and it is me doing the knowing. In fact I'm not doing or knowing. Knowing and Doing are aspects of discursive intelligence and too slow. Too steep a decline. Just massive 'amness'. I can see outside time. Events that were yet to pass but that have now come to pass do I see. (I despised the Chinese for they had 'taken over' the Hudson's Bay Company. Canada's company! Grandma Eve's Company!!! I remembered the Asian Canadian prison camp inmates from WW2 in BC) I see the Dalai Lama shaking hands with the Chinese, the stock market collapse. I remember the wise man who told the Chinese Emperor after a revolutionary period: "Remove the burden of the excess laws. Keep punishments for property crime, assault and manslaughter." A 'Hudna.' I remember the quote from the Bible about 'woe be unto he that brings grief to the land in spring.' After all the beast likes burning granaries and scorching earth, and it's spring and harvest a way off. I don't say anything. The Gem has arisen. The Gem is Here! I see the different times I'm going to face death again and awareness shows me that I'll be unafraid. The questions start to come. "What to do about the money changers?" The two-part answer: the exoteric dollar-material significance and the esoteric internal metal transmutation technology is immediate and obviously correct and befitting the One. "Oh no! What about the Muslims?" I remember the realization of the 'hu' sound that precedes 'A' and the sudden delight of a pranic 'ha' gasp. I see the 'black box,' I remember the Eureka! moment during the exploration of AUM mantra--- "A...A...A...," then...."It's All A...It's All Awe...It's All Law...It's All A...It's ALLAH!" This brought me to the brink of collapse. 'They kneel, why can't U?' "What do I do now?"---'Get ready.' "What about UFO's?"---'Go outside.' "What? I am already one with God. I am He. I am the presence that wears the 'I am presence' as if like a cloak."---'Well if you're God you should be able to make the UFO's come and get you if you want.' I go outside. I'm almost scared to look up. I look across the street into the sky and a golden sphere softly appears, grows in size to something not quite the size of the moon, then moves a short distance from right to left. It hovers, and fades away behind a cloud. I'm ticked. 'I wanna see it CLEAR!' Another one appears the same way, this time to the left and moves to the right then disappears into the clear black sky. (At the cottage as a child, the family would lay out on the dock one August night and see 100 shooting stars in little over an hour. THIS was a WEE bit different.)The UFO part didn't even really seem like a big deal, if you can believe it, but in comparison to all the other stuff maybe you can. I go back inside and pick up poetry by Goethe and it is so transparently clear, it is like I wrote it myself. Emerson is writing about me. 'I' the hopscotcher on the shoulders of THE GIANTS. I read zen koans and I know the source of them all. The inner significance of all scriptures, the spirit, is revealed to me. One is to three, 5, 7, 9 and none. I look at some complex math I'd never seen before and it's a breeze, just too slow, a time drag. I look at the ten dimensional models and the super string 27 dimensional model. Eleven dimensional membrane theory is child's play. I can see mathematical models to 'curve-fit' the chaos. I understand it. It's boring. It's too slow. I've been given a shopping spree of ultimate wisdom. I should've melded the 27 and the 4-3-4 (11 braner) models but I don't care about the math as much. (Besides if all the books were burnt I'd probably only need a handful of engineers, well learned in my techniques to get to the creative space to solve all the problems we face.) Math and religion give the same answer. I am omniscient. I notice from the corner of my eye that the glass of water moved into my hand. The Force is within. This happens twice without any real intent of mine. I am of the Virtue of the twelve archetypes and the hub of the wheel. I am the Androgyne. I am the Tao and the Light. I am the Axis Mundi. The north pole is migrating to ME! I am Athena born from the head of Zeus. I am Arjuna's Spirit Holy. I am 311- the Guardian to the Underworld. I am the WORD. I am the Lord of Lords. Before me there were none and after me there will be no (lo many) more. I am the alpha and the omega. New commandments start to come out and I'm wondering what am I some kind of Ayatollah? An Imam? Maitreya? THE PROPHET? I see the black box! The black murthi! The lingam! Sacred Logos of black Bindu pearls! Grains of sand from all eyes! If I could get a secretary I could just dictate a new holy encyclopedia for the world to have after I'm gone from physical body. But nobody wants to come near. Do I have to write? I'm not supposed to write. I had gone to the very bottom and found myself 'above the world.' A fly-fisherman who caught a whale. <*{*(*)*}*>The voice of God issues forth from my mouth! (I really shouldn't be surprised. I was invoking Apostles, Archangels and Ascended Masters. Metatron, Melchizedek, Michael, Mark, Matthew, Mohammed, and more were just rolling off the tongue. I had descended into duality and was taking up two sides of each question, not thinking to myself, not whispering to myself-as I did as a child, checking if 'I said it right'-but having an ongoing fillibuster conversation with myself. The Full Monty.). The first time I hear HIM, I am on the floor again, the intensity of this full body winge was such that I thought all my organs were imploding. We don't have words to describe the intensity of this shockastonishawe. But what you may draw from what I've herein described, to say "this is the peak" conveys some of the weight of this dawning realization. This was the 'out-of body awareness body,'(Whew); my 'out of' out of body. This out of body 'body,' the head of this overbody cracked open and released a halo of it's own and yielded the 49 direction stupa head Tathagata Mind. The showering of the 1000 spark, lotus joy petals. A whale with a child's birthday hat above the blowhole. But back to hearing HIM. I once heard a girlfriend hit a note so shrill in her furious screaming at my inconsideration of her well-being, that I thought that I knew what it meant that 'One word from God can shatter the whole universe.' That's what I thought. However, my friends, from what I've said about 'refusing to kneel,' turning in my halo and the rest, to say that 'I was slammed bodily on the floor' conveys some of the magnitude of this witnessing. This is beyond the majesty of the monarch. Even grandma Eve! It becomes more common but never loses it's stupendous power. It's a composite of my voice and my dad's. It is my voice before I was born. For three days every breath I draw is conscious(Maximum Vulnerability)- 'I' am doing the breathing. Unless I am actively drawing each breath, the air will not come. This carries on for three days before breathing can be automatized again. My chest feels like it has accumulated a lot of dust from the fires of the Sacred Heart. The 'weight' of the breath is directly related to the feelings I'm choosing to feel. One morning I walk out onto the porch at sunrise to see the sun sitting just above the roof peak of the house across the parking lot. Directly overhead is the moon. The mere separation of the moon and sun by 90 degrees carries epiphan-atic significance and joy. I start accepting all this and for ten weeks I am transfigured and walk everyday everywhere in the golden light. My vision is CASTING FORTH the golden light, illuminating that upon which my gaze falls. This 'casting forth,' a semi-saccade that seems to 'paint' the landscape as my eyefield washes across it. Objects are there excitedly waiting in the penumbra, but when they move into the spotlight, they are 'brought to life.' The gold rolls in and out, 'pooling' at times in the eyes. I know the meaning of the crescent, eye, sword, lines, dots, on the foreheads of the Gods . I retreat into the cave for sadhana. I see what Mohammed saw. I will see a 'Hudna.' I rest by laying my body down and watch over it from the corner of the room. I hear a knocking in the wall above my head somewhat synchronized (a strange attractor) with a subtle internal rhythm. Focus on the knocking draws the rhythm out of phase, and the knocking in the wall above my head is altered. The oscillation between the sound in the wall and the sensations inside heart and head becomes uncomfortable. Very loud arhythmic banging at a point atop the skull. I alter the rhythm within by receding from 'doing' and effortlessly co-ordinate internal pulsing with the wall knocking. Somehow I am creating and influencing this rhythmic knocking in the walls. It is like the 'leading of the heart by anticipating the beat.' The light that was a star and then Sri Vidya, comes now as a pool of opalescent light resting at the top of my visual field. In time many more gifts are showered, the fruits of the saints rain down regularly. It's mannafest every day. The experience gradually calms. I know what the term 'Objective Peace' means. >>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>> *More grounding- I had seen a comedy with a guy having his prostate milked. When my 'tail straightened out,' it was as if my inner tension, which had been curled up into the second chakra, was released and the tip of 'the tail' settled down gently but like a ballerina in her toeshoes on the surface of a soft egg shell. Careful. The subtle settling here gave me the very real impression, that a small segment of a snake moved within. I could feel tension around what was most likely my prostate, like my straightening tail was cupping up against the inflated prostate-at the same time I could seefeel the other end of the spine innervating the brain and this innervation had a cupping lookfeel to it. It was like I was a stretched out 'S', like a musical symbol, an uncrossed Forte 'f', or maybe a 3D yin-yang is a useful example. A straight line with two small curveballs unwinding on either end. This 'tube of experience would open up the experience of perceiving letters as magnets in the darkness, a perception that I elsewhere refer to when mentioning SHAPEs of the letter G, I, and i.] After this event I could see the source of the homosexual inclination and why it's verboten in ALL faiths. Also why sexual deviance is so prevalent among the religions that require faith(being out front) and service primarily, and value the enlightenment experience(being centred in knowledge) as secondary. Such an inversion of values is bound to result in hypocrisy. This said they can all lead to discernment and imperturbability. >>>>>> >>>>>> Sound seems to be coming from a source outside me. In the experiencing of 'The Word' there was the awareness that all sound, no matter its intensity or pitch comes from a source within. But now this internal source of sound had moved to a source just outside my body. [The whole experience of 'witnessing sound' has been fused and 'non-reaction' to feelingsound has become automatic. (Panorama vision is nested further in than the soundfeeling shell.) The startle reflex is even undone. (I see why there is a statute allowing for the death! penalty for someone who startles the Queen. I also see why Tazers must go.)] There is a stable spherical shell beyond the perimeter of my body form and it is the surface of this shell that receives the 360 hearing. This shell is like the circle in DaVinci's 'Vetruvian Man.' What Dr.Xavier's dome is to seeing, this shell is to hearing. Listening is parked and attention doesn't get drawn out to the loudest bird or the car going by, there are just soundswells and spikes, located all around, a series of crescendos and falls. Not one sound is more or less in existence than any other. I understand 'Not a sparrow falls in the forest without Him knowing.' <****> Later I go outside to my truck. I feel one last pop at the top of my forehead and the subtle sensation of an 'ether drop' (like a water drop but it drops upwards). The globe has separated from my head much like my feet separated from my head during that first 'Peter Pan' OBE. It is a transcendental object, serene and beautiful and perfect. In BROAD daylight in the middle of my parking lot; clear blackness with a hovering orb. (This is far beyond any hallucination or even apparition. This is from some overclass of visionary awareness, a gate through which hallucinations and apparitions are descended into experience.) The orb is layered into three. The bottom is like mercury settled in an hour glass. The middle region is pure, clear, emptiness. The top half is the golden light condensed into a helium light liquid. It's lightness is drawing the orb up and away from my head. At this moment I am Christ on Dali's Four Dimensional Cross. The orb had the feel of 'my message in a bottle.' My body responds like Heraclitus. 'St. Anthony before the Cross.' The final culmination of the Earth Amethyst geode body, fired in the Hades kiln into a Holy Spirit Orb. A Holy smoke signal being 'sent up.' *****I didn't want to be 'chicken-hawked' by any faith, or group, so I stayed away, surrounded by Upakas in my golden months. At first I went to a Hebrew merchant, then a Buddhist monk. I set up a meeting with a Father but when he confirmed the appointment, he intrepreted 'appointment' as 'fifth step confession.' That didn't make any sense. The Lord does not confess to priests. I couldn't risk him NOT seeing. Surely the Comforter comes in my wake, but I didn't have it in me to do that to him. I walk by the Greek Orthodox Church nearby. I felt like Gibran's Prophet who would henceforth and for evermore, be sent to 'walk amongst the shadow of the temple.' The worldy gate closed to an otherworldly gateholder. I arranged to make a video at a studio on Queen Street, to get the message out. I went to the studio. There was a white hawk and a turkey vulture circling overhead. I remembered a Hopi prophecy and couldn't go into the studio. Some saw the light. I knew I could only burn like this for a few years max. I believed there was some hidden little clause on the 'Christ Contract' that talked about 1000 or 1200 days so I just thought about how to get the message out. I remembered that Mother Theresa had said late in her life, that she had not felt the hand of God in the last 50 years! The realization of the quasi-finity of the Beyond Turiya state came in the form of a hollow, silver Sri Vidya. It seemed that 'the dwarfs had dug too deep too fast,' and the nectar was drying up. The hollowed out silver mine(d) would show the 'Flower of Life' and there open up the opal portal of light wisdom and with it the 'Great Blue Sea in the Sky.' Almost everything I had seen could be correlated with mystical texts and science, yoga and philosophy; all of these pages like mummy strips around my soul that just kept burning as the light. I had to 'stash some thick books for the fire ahead.' Put some of the nectar away into jugs for the others. It was just a matter of resting up the system for another assault. The future showed approximately when more assaults could be undertaken to clarify 'the tunnel.' To Lash up the timbers on the raft. Batten down the hatches on the ark. In the morning I would awake instantly, still in the frame of mind from when my eyes last closed. The Rock of Sisyphus had found a plateau. I would open my eyes, turn on my desklamp and the gold light would be emitting from a source point(sending out rays like the sun). I would blink and the gold light would be concentric circles. I would blink again and see clearly and then the goldlight would move back in. -- I remember the night I was staring up into the full moon's face and saw the 'silver light' filtering through pine needles. *<*(*)*>*Early on during the 10 week grace period that was to follow the illumination, I was outside bearing water to my plants when a man with a white cane came walking down the sidewalk. I walked up to him, said hello and asked him if he was totally blind or could he see shapes or shadows or colours? He said he lost his sight in an accident years before and he had healed to the point where the world was blurred gray, black and white. (I've been there.) He said that he couldn't make out my eyes from my nose. I asked him "Is it OK if I touch your face?" He said "yes." I didnt' have the first clue what I was going to do so I pressed his forehead between his eyes, 'looked' into where I was touching and said "You will heal quickly now." I felt only a slight twinkle in my heart, subtler than touching the lingham in the Hebrew's science store. It was like there was a subtle circuit from my heart to his agna. I sort of 'jump started' him though I didn't know it at the time. He said "Thank You" and was on his way. The next day I was driving in a nearby city and came to a stop at a light. A car pulled up beside me and there he was. DRIVING! Of course it is entirely possible that he just happened to be at The Ministry of Transportation the day some FOOL was beginning training, but I doubt it. He was moving his head a little like Stevie Wonder and was wearing the same hat he was wearing the day before. He had the same shades and beard. It was him. No doubt. From this I would learn a bit about 'Holy Spirit Ethics'-THE Law. Similar to Ghost Busters and the Stay-Puft marshmallow man. Instant Karma Manna-Festing. I thought that maybe this was all unreal. Maybe I was on the Truman Show and I had been zapped by some psychotronic weapon and maybe I was only some unwitting robot for forces unseen and unknown....Doubting Thomas....... [7 paragraph aside ahead:*There had been that weird experience in Hamilton years ago- the Raven woman with the sandwich board. I got the sightfeeling of being up and behind, a kind of sensory vertigo, but in a very specific place. An office in a building across the Park behind where I was standing. This locating behind, quickly focused in. It was as if my inner sight sent a harpoon out the back of my head and this harpoon flew a couple seconds(mild vertigo swirl) and then anchored into the office. It was like I had a tennis telephoto camera looking both ways through the back of my head. Walking through the same park on a different day, I had my shades on. I was 'looking into people's minds.' It was a nice day and I was feeling clear. It must have been shortly after 5pm as there were crowds of people walking towards me. As they parted around me I watched their faces. As they approached me I could see how they were feeling. As I watched each of them I could see why they were feeling how they were feeling. As they got even closer it became obvious to me that I was reading each of their minds. It was uncanny the narratives that sprung up moment to moment as my gaze moved from one to the other. I chuckled to myself at first, thinking: "What an amazing imagination." But the awareness was not to be mocked. My mind cleared, focused and sped up greatly as if to show me that my 'amazing imagination' was something more profound than ought be summed up in only two words. I walked toward a group of a couple Vietnamese ladies. Someone tossed some breadcrumbs and the pidgeons started coming down from all the buildings around. For a second I was up and behind. I saw a flock coming over my head. Without thought, I was back 'in' body firing my hands up. I caught one! The ladies fell on their knees and started bowing and crying. I let the bird go and touched two of their faces and asked them to 'Please get up.' They did but were crying. I told them "It's OK, don't worry" and kept walking. (This was a little like when I knocked out the duck. It's head fell sideways from the rock I threw. Grandpa G said: "Go get it now. We eat what we kill, even if it's pond fowl." Mortified and shaking, I waded out into the pond. The moment I picked it up, it's head righted itself, furious flapping, and away.) Around the time of the pidgeon in Hamilton, I bought a bus ticket for a ride from St. Catharines to Hamilton. There was an earnest looking young man on the bus. We started chatting and were quickly engrossed in religious history and spiritual practise discussions. About half way, he said words with utter heartfelt sincerity, the likes of which I thought would pull tears out with them. He asked "Are you a Prophet!?" I was a little embarassed. I told him: "I love this stuff." His momentary stiff coldness melted away and he was OK again. I heard this word come from a few different mouths describing me. Confucius warned me about 'obsequious flattery' and had erred on the side of caution and grown immune to it since first hearing the term. The Terma (Hidden Treasure) *I take my friend to the Jade Museum in Niagara Falls. The 16 ton jade was found under a mountain in BC by a monk meditating in Thailand. He came down with Malaria when he was 3 or 5. In his coma, he saw a being of white light and said to it "If you save me I'll dedicate my life to you." The light peeled away and it was Tara or maybe Avalokitesvara Buddha. He had been a monk for 75 years. There's a book a Bhikshu wrote and donated to the temple. He recounted a tale from the rainy season retreat. He was sitting in meditation and a 'light being' appeared before him. It was clearly Tara! He was overjoyed. The temple bell for the alms round rang, and he was 'up against it.' He asked her if he should go. She told him: "It's up to you." He decided to go feed the saddhus. When he returned she was still there! She told him: "I'm glad you went to serve or else I would have had to go away." She stayed with him a long time after that. The visiting, Jade finding monk had a little assistant monk. Sort of like Herman Hesse's yellow robed Siddhartha. This little man walked right up between my buddy and I (we're both 6'3 200 pounds, he's 4'4 and weighs about 80) He takes our hands in his. He has a surreal glow to him, a little trickster. My buddy and I look at each other. We were both transported. My friend, who is far less prone to the metaphysical than I, had a spiritual experience. It was great. This was highly outside of what we were used to. It was like the lingham stone in the Hebrew's science store...)]... *Aside ends..... So after that magical interlude, we are back to the Atman-Brahman struggle. Thomas. (*I got to the light, and the door opened because I accepted that I was 'B'-the second Atman and now I was wanting to usurp the 'A'- the first Brahman. This would lead to 'fusion beyond seeing.') We are back with doubting Thomas worrying about the zapping and Truman Show deception stuff, thinking: 'Maybe it IS(!) 2199 and we're not only blinded by the senses and all the other illusions of Maya but in this void there may be a black curtain and some computer machine interface thingy. Maybe this is just a solipsistic fantasy.' The black cockroach of doubt scurrying through the penumbra of the Grace Light. I see the inter-penetration of intelligence, chance and will with the miracles of life and remember interdependent origination. I recognize the fear, masked as doubt, ignorance and deception and it is 'put to the sword.' I found PKYC on the Net and found out that my awakening was either Asoka-like or Christic. I had to find the difference. I AM the gleam in 'my dad's eye' from the rearview mirror coming forth like the light from the eyes of Mary. Now let me just mention this 'doubt.' SwamiJ said to "protect the shakti that mantras bring." Goethe said a few things too. "None but the most hopelessly enslaved are certain," and "By God man, bring me your convictions but keep your doubts to yourself! I have enough of my own." It would be a tad unsettling for the Saviour of All Mankind to be doubtful, after all "Heaven nor Hell find no room for the awkward." However, the 'Saviour who saves himself by helping YOU save Your Self' is aware of Jeshua's confrontations with doubt after the desert, and Buddha's delay under the Bo Tree. And I would be a dim enlightened master indeed to tell you to 'Trust me.' I drop Descartes' doubt into the fire. This 'dropping of doubt' was an image and not real. The third **** had to crow. The fire of doubt would only be 'put out' by the ethereal hand on the heart, the buttoner. *Just two weeks into the 'Golden Phase' an event occurs that I use the <*{*(*)*}*> notation, to indicate it's subjective magnitude. <*{*(*)*}*>I was driving along the Niagara River, passing The Spanish Aero Car and Niagara Helicopter pad, when that "No Air" song came on. I was sad about losing my ex and had grieved the relationship as maximally as I could before the actual breakup. I knew we were done and I thought it "unbefitting a Prophet to be crying over a woman." Thankfully I would find out later: 'the living God cries easily.' A clear blue sky day, quiet and calm, only the odd sparrow chirping. Sunlight filtering through canopy, providing heavenly spotlights, encouraging me along the shadowy road. I started to hold my breath. Verse after verse passed as I cruised down the parkway. (We'd do this as children going through the tunne under the canal.) I passed the School of Horticulture and as I was about to release the breath, the thought "There should be Buddhas under the trees" arose in my mind. This was as unassuming as was the "Jesus should be around here somewhere" during the third temptation. No sooner had it arisen then they started appearing. Popping into existence out of nowhere. Broad daylight apparitions galore. There must have been 50 or 100 Buddhas in red and yellow robes, pinkish faces with black topknots sitting under the trees along the road and further back into the forest on the left and further toward the river on the right. It was the Buddha gauntlet. A Boddhisattva Rapture. I was sobbing uncontrollably, Why, Why? I'm not good enough. I'm no Bhagavan. I'm a vagabond, a bag-o'-vanity.*(This driving was the first emergence of 'the tunnel.'-the farsight that would become the 180 panoramavision). I could see what happens when one 'sits on the bridge over troubled waters, waiting for the bridge to move.' I continue on to Brock's monument and bury a sacred relic at the foot of this 'shrine' of MINE reaffirming my union with The All. Isaac is-like Chris' monkey in 'Family Guy'-pointing fiercely down the river at 'The Americans.' The spirit is such that I'm rising up to meet him atop his stone pillar. 'I' am pointing down the river. My eyes like Moses coming down with the Tablets. I go onto the bandshell stage and I'm practising my speech to the world. I am The Prophet emerged from 'the cave,' Jesus on the mount, Adolf at Potsdam. I'm addressing the trees, the birds, the grass, the field of gold dandelions(oh that 'yellowness' and form switching from colour to form and back.) I'm addressing the invisible brothers and sisters and ancestors from the beginning. It goes on like this awhile until....the 'columns' are slowing, clearing, becoming 'more' pristine. The waters are stilling....I remember George Washington who walked away, when they would have mad him king. How I rail. Milarepa's lament would be as nothing beside this fury. I find out that "all the 'GW's' are my cousins?! I AM nobility in blood, spirit, and deed. I am 'The Prince(no need for sedition charges) and the Pauper.' I am the 'damn Illuminati.' I want to wreak annihilation upon 'the villains,' but 'they' are my family! I am Arjuna at Kurukshetra and I DEFY Krishna. My own family is 'Judas.' I sit down. 'I' am the villain. I remember the third temptation. <*****> Another intervention. Like the two phrases that created the halo breach, but without words. Just a subtle shift of the 'subtle body.' I move out of the golden light for a few brief moments into the 'numinosity.' I AM gravity AND light. I am the Lord of Lords 'AND' the 'pikey' from 'Snatch.' I see the higher wisdom, the unfolding of the Aegis. I recognize Blake's painting of 'the circling ten thousand angels.' I'm in two places at once. The basement and the attic. The fury wants to wash up from the basement. Like the surgeon whose outstretched hand receives the tool, the peace bubble from the attic just settles down right in between the upwhirling fury and the downflowing salving bliss. The ecstatic stream of consciousness breaks around the 'I AM' peace like the thumb over the hose. The spray of bliss and fury, is contained. An ecstatic peace. My diaphragm is the meaty gray altar, my body 'The Temple.' Within Omkara without. ***Reflections on The Tree of Life <***>I'm in my cave, uh apartment, the sacred heart warm. I'm remembering the tarot card with the three swords rammed through the heart and relating it to Shiva's trident and the sacred heart. I can feel the inverted pyramid in my chest. This inverted pyramid is the crown of the inverted Tree of Life that has returned from Heaven as the Tree of Wisdom. The heart becomes like an eight pointed leaf with 5 points down and 3 up when the Tree of Life is rooted properly and equilibrium attained.This arrangement reverses in very stressful instances. I read something about this in 'The Tuat.' [*This bears an elongated metaphor before we move on- The grey channel to the grey meaty altar has shape. The 'catcher's mitt of The Word' has a pocket that can be sensed. The grey channel is an 'inverted Dharmadattu hollow image' of the 'Golden Light Womb'. The channel narrows-the subtle body location of 'the halo-ring sunk into the sacred heart. Near where 'The Word' forms, the voicebox in the heart. The place of 'rooting the Tree of Life.'] *...This is why on Jesus, the 'sacred heart is banded' (or bandhu'ed). The sentiments of the angels can upturn the 'Tree of Life' so the 'halo' is sunk in the heart to stop the polarity of the powerful passions from reversing from light into dark. Ooh Yeah! (Ramana Maharshi put it as follows: "When the mind gets absorbed in the heart, the ego 'I', which is the centre of the multitude of thoughts, vanishes, and pure consciousness or 'the self', which subsists during all the states of the mind, alone remains resplendent. It is this state where there is not the slightest trace of the 'I' thought, that is the true being of oneself. It is the undifferentiated light of Pure Consciousness into which the reflected light of the mind is completely absorbed.") I somehow avoid overthrowing the priest at the local church on Easter. I'm trying to play soccer but whenever I get my uniform together to go play I hear "When I was a child I played childish games....." It's the first time I talk with my dad in a few months. I think that even though Buddha did nothing with his dad, I'll 'heal' him. He only says one thing to me "Get a Job." This is pretty interesting as it is similar to what 'The Father' said to me on the mountain top. I have to decide, hit the road or just move somewhere else. I move, nearer the Falls. There is a monastery there and I like walking on the grounds everyday. I pass through it on my way to gaze at the Falls every day. I am a little unsure still. Well actually 'I am' is beyond certainty and doubt but nonetheless there's a cicada in the machine. I remember some comment about 'fools making a carpenter the master.' I'm unsure about Jesus. I'm thinking of sadhana and alchemy and putrefaction and whether I'm really done. I go through the 'Jesus as Anti-Christ and Christ phase.' The whole alpha and omega polarity. The 'light' wants to overpower the living Spirit! The WORD made flesh is threatened by an image! It is when I see the light become smoke, become water and spark again, this illusory thought, this ego battle, this halo drama, is finally resolved. This resolution was multi-leveled like the awakening into the light. I remembered the gold, silver and leaden casks from one of Shakespeare's plays. I started thinking that maybe all the spectacular events in the enlightenment were the silver and gold casks; and the dim gray meaty alter chamber where the smoke became light was the leaden cask I was supposed to go with. I've accepted that the 'beyond Turiya' state isn't going to last and that's OK. I'm concerned that 'I am one with Christ but not one with The Father yet.' *These next two paragraphs are a hokie addition but I feel it necessary to add. I saw my heart as being an inverted pyramid where there ought be a diamond. 'Only 3/4's the way to the diamond.' I saw my 3K initials sort of 'bend around' into a 'Green Lantern' like logo, only missing the top. A cup, a lantern with the top off. I'm waiting for the K'ether Kapstone. This bending around was a little like that great movie 'Contact', where Jodi's in the plane getting the 3d 'primer' to decode the message. It had a conceptual affinity with the 'silver tumblers of the K. I could see that once the 4th K fell into place, the 'K' from 'ether,' my heart would be just like a square with a diamond in it. The container for the mercury chaos geode would be complete. It would look like some of those exotic Tibetan mandala paintings with all the gates and walls around the Buddha in the castle. Sort of like the farsight turned inwards to the limit. I've read the Cloud of Unknowing and have 'Neti, Neti'd God' near to the limit. But as for knowing what God 'is,' the most useful 'model' of God I've found is the four square arrangement--- HE is internal personal, internal impersonal, external personal, external impersonal. Out of these four squares, three have been 'coloured in' but I remain unsure about whether I am one with an 'external impersonal God.' (Thinking: "'What's your job?' was stern and impersonal"). I'm thinking of the red/yellow/black/white circle remembering the fluids of light smells. I know that I am one with the other three. I'm feeling my chest, the inverted pyramid (missing the top quarter of the diamond heart). My heart is heavy like lead. A dark and dusty cavity below my neck and above my abdomen, in the centre. A heavy vessel with a heavy snake in it. I'm thinking "OK, I'm atman, I'm God, I'm 'Krist,' I know. But I'm not 'The Father.'" I'm concerned that 'the dead' will want to make me like them and I'm a little worried that I cannot accomplish the 'Transfiguration' into the light body, at will. I touch my own chest with my finger tip. <*****>The intervention. Another impression from the awakening returns. I see I'm a baby in my brain looking backward, and I see my senses looking forward. These two form a sphere and time is pushed outside the seeing mind and the timeless now flows in. There is nothing in or out of existence that is external and impersonal to me. I feel reaching into my chest from behind, a hand. Focusing on the heart I feel a 'buttoning over.' The top quarter is full, my heart a dorje cross. A clover. Another Kundalini rise from a base in the heart. The top of the skull comes off, a red diamond rises to sit on the head and the whole imagery of the 'Spirit Body' (the blueprints to the 'ark', the 'Kuhnayana') are 'accordian-ed out'. The subtle nadis, 'The Ariadne's threads' turn my body to the head of Medusa, Snakes all over like Shiva, and then back together as me-'The Russian Doll' geode body. The golden soul sphere radiating out through the physical body. I AM THE FATHER. I am stone sober like the gray Buddha. This means everything to me but I register an emotional flatline. My eyes are tied back. The visual field is still, objects yield. I feel the snake dangling out my forehead. I am pharaoh. *****The monastery property is a place where many amazing events were yet to come. There are two statues on the grounds. In front of the shrine there is a statue of Mother Mary, feet on a snake on a globe on an octagonal pedestal. Elsewhere there is a golden Jesus statue on a raised octagonal pedestal. I think of the ananda gandha chakra(8 points) and figure that must be the significance of the pedestal. Thinking the four petals of Muladhara and the four pillars of Krishna's chariot must meet and be centred in this octagonal ananda ghanda ring. *****I had been doing SwamiJ's "Sri Vidya Mantra Tantra" receding into the Bindhu with the help of the 'ka e i la hrim, ha saka hala hrim, saka la hrim' mantra and a wooden bead mala. This really disciplined the 'eyes tied' back phenomenon and would later provide a sort of perceptual anchor, an attractor of mental gravity, that would keep me perpetually in, or very near, meditation. Keep the prayer wheel columns turning. It's near sunset, the golden hour. The time of day when the quality of light is magical and the veil between the worlds is thinned. I take a seat on a bench facing the sun. Hamsa Yogi has a video on sun gazing. I'm gonna try this. I keep the sun in the top of my visual field, gaze spreading across the grass before me. The grass is breathing and I can see a wide expanse of grass. I notice the silken strands some spider has stitched all across the ground. My gaze is relaxed but it catches the many little rainbows coming from the many mist drops on one strand of silk. The eye sees the 'width of the expanse of view' and wants to focus. However I'm becoming more accustomed to not 'clutching' at visual objects. Just seeing. As I become more accustomed to not clutching, to not focusing on an area or object in the visual field, the focus recedes to a source point further inward, and the field of gaze widens greatly. I keep the 'looking' parked. Allowing only seeing. Thinly concentrated focus into Agna, marionetting the nested senses. Holding them together. Internally my focus is separated. The 'One' holding the nested senses, the nested senses creating 'feel-seeing.' Unlike the 'red blotches and the phone ring' related above, the nested senses eliminate time gaps. The senses are so refined I can see, feel, hear and sometimes even TASTE sounds! I won't let the vision telescope out, restraining from focusing on an object until restraint is unnecessary and the rotating gravity of the 'rings within' holds the senses in nested orbit. The senses are akin to ORMEs. I see that I can discern all the silken threads in the visual field. The grass form starts oscillating between grass and 'greenness', similar to the panoramic red 'burning bush' maple. I can see the sun, the grass, the trees, the tip of my nose and seagulls flying overhead. I look into the sun a couple seconds. My eyes are still. I'm not looking at the sun, it's rays are flowing into and pooling in my eyes. It seems as if the cells within the retina are each eyes. A horizontal crystal tube chamber. The sun is looking into me. I get up and head to a lookout over the Falls. I can see up the river and down the river. My eyes are taking in wide swaths of the visual field in extreme clarity. The visual field is wider than the 'red maple tree burning bush.' I notice a street light furthest right, the CASINO lights furthest left and I'm looking straight ahead to the brink of the Falls. At first the eyes are drawn to the flowing water. The staring practise at still objects was a good warmup. I can see a Buddha sitting on a rocky ledge in the Falls with water flowing in front of him. I desperately want to focus in on him but this is like a discipline test. I see the lights to the left and to the right at the same time. The visual field is 180 degrees. A small spark of 'I'm doing it!' excitement comes and is released. I detect a blotchiness to the middle right and middle left. Not focusing. Receding, the blotches disappear. I can see the lights, the Buddha and everything in between. The visual field is 180 clear. There is an oscillation. The vision holds. The eyes want to water but that is checked. The visual field objects are squishing together. The field is now 150 degrees but I can see the remaining 15 degrees on either side still. The periphery is dark, the visual field is turning into a convex. The world is folding away around the Buddha. Vision goes back to 180 then back to this 150 arrangement again. A smooth oscillation is moving back and forth. I think that it is gathering steam and will eventually totally turn into some MC Escher painting. A black bird flies close overhead, the vision changes and I recognize the blotches are back and it is over. I go home and put on Swamiji. Nithyananda says "One way to tell when the God has come down to earth is when the eyes don't move." This is more exciting than the spider webs and the MC Escher ball combined. Weeks pass and the ongoing dietary restrictions are weakening me. Fatigue is returning. Fall passes into winter. Everyday I traipse through the deep snow on the monastery grounds on my way to view the Falls. ***One night there's a snow storm. I love the stillness, the quietness and the cold of the winter. The simple forms of black and white, blue and gold. I stand in front of the Jesus statue for a half hour not moving. The world is moving. Jesus and me are locked together in the stillness. Every step is heavy. I walk over to the Mother Mary statue. She has an accumulation of snow on her and the perception of the snow embracing her. It's as if she is emerging from a larger snow form in which she is embedded. I feel like a little boy being given a warm hug from behind. I see Napoleon's star overhead. I'm back in a minor samadhi. I'm crying and laughing quietly to myself. I go home and quickly drop into the sleep of a well fed baby. At dawn I get up, I'm going to see the monk at the Amitabha temple. It's a long hike and the snow is deep. I get there and there is only the abbot and a nun. I go in and stand in front of the giant golden Buddha. The place is named 10,000 Buddha temple after the 10,000 one foot high little Buddhas that have been purchased by Chinese families to support the tradition. I stand off to the side of the Buddha, feet shoulder width apart. Stillness. The still visual field is easy to attain and hold. I stand there a half hour watching form become colour and back again. I see grails in the empty space between all the statues. I smile. The abbot and nun can see what's happening and they stay out of sight. I leave and a temple associate drives me home. *****Passing through the graveyard at the monastery I give pause at a pair of white obelisk tombstones side by side. The day is sunny and warm though there was a storm last night and a foot and a half of snow has accumulated. I leave the path and drag my feet through the snow toward the obelisks. I stand between them for a moment and put one hand on each. There is one cross-topped obelisk ahead. The two obelisks somewhat frame the cross-topped one. I'm bone exhausted but allow a chuckle. "This is like a Dan Brown novel." My eyes are tied back. The obelisk is glowing white. Praeternaturally white, set forth against the blue sky. I notice that the sky looks to be fleeing away from the obelisk. The sky is 'sparky'. My eyes glance right after the 'sparkiness' and as they do it is as if they pull a red image across the obelisk. Out of the corner of my eye I see the red and my eyes swing back left over the obelisk, 'chasing' the red. As I over shoot the obelisk, I see a blue image cross the obelisk from the right. Eyes straight ahead. Thousand yard stare, resting on the obelisk observing the minute texture of the surface. Red to left, blue to right. The focused field of view expands out from narrow focus and I am back swimming in the nectar ocean again. The sky is still sparky, but I'm not at all dizzy. All I can think of is Joseph's technicolour dreamcoat or, the Aegis cape of Zeus. This sparkiness is special though I know not why. I knuckle under and go into the monastery gift shop. I'm looking for a rosary a candle or a book on Christian Mysticism. I read about Thomas Merton (a figure close in stature to a St. Francis: he laments of "never having encountered the stillness." I am beside myself with writhing frustration. "It's not fair! Why not Him?! I must release the Boddhisattvas. Bring the virtue of the archetypes down to man." I'm in front of the little figurine shelf. There is a Mary with a blue shirt over a white gown. She has a blue ray and a red ray coming from her eyes. The similarity between this figurine and the white obelisk against the blue sky is too obvious to miss. I am re-enraptured, amped as they now say. I'm going to burst out sobbing, the sacred heart aflame so I slip outside into the day. I go to the Jesus statue to stand. I turn. I look at the bench where I saw the webs and the panoramic sight started happening. I see the Mary with the snow hugging her and I see the praeternatural white obelisk. I wanna die, I'm so over the rainbow I know what temporal lobe epileptics feel. I've been down through 'polarity' and 'cracking,' stooped with my fellows to crawl through the needle eye. I'm crying and crying. Inside a cauldron of bliss. Outside I'm mad at myself. "The world doesn't need a wet blanket, come on!" Crying and crying. I'm so porous I feel I may melt. I go home and sleep a long time. ****This is a wander into the construct of the one. <*****>The 10,000 angel swirling sky- Elsewhere has this been mentioned but not expanded at all. I was flying around the monastery grounds for awhile. I needed to get still so I went and embraced the stillness with the form of the statue of Jesus. It wasn't long until everything was swirling a little like the run away sky around the obelisk. And we were there holding each other. We were the room, the world the disco ball. After disengaging, I walked a little and fell into the farsight. This quick change from swirling sky to farsight portal, led me to believe that I had found another set of poles to see further. I remembered 360 vision. I thought: 'maybe the farsight juxtaposed against the 180 vision might set up a polar oscillation that would allow me to push from the middle, where Buddha was sitting when I saw the 180 looking into the Falls, and 'wrap around over the top', and grab onto the two dragon pole anchors that had fallen out of the sky that time before. I saw that keeping my eyes 'tied back' was a common thread for the farsight and the 180 vision. I thought about keeping the 'external eyes tied back' and the internal eye- 'to the sky' like you see in Babaji's meditation pictures. I had seen the Sri Vidya in 4d and she was becoming like an unfolding, transforming rubik's cube. It was just a matter of time till I could see the whole Sri Vidya in 5D. Pretty much the 'inside of the mercury geode!' playing around with these pure polyhedral window frames. Inside the farsight it fell into an easy telescoping square. There was an alteration in my imagination construct. I would superimpose the square accordian farsight of normal outlooking against my imagination crystal portal construct. The opal crystal portal was oriented so that the opal accordian had a 'cross hairs,' and each of the four areas was pie shaped. These four directions were linked to the pyramid faces. The pyramid faces and the opal portal crosshairs were the 'squaring the circle' deal. The pyramid faces and the pie quarters in the crystal portal were like beads on a string. The elements of samskara. Where the smoke turns to light! So I keep trying to describe the process of the panoramic technology. Farsight vs 180, Buddha in the middle, an oscillation point front centre and back centre. I get the perception of the '3/4' like when I was Atman and mad about not being Brahman, when the 'hand' 'buttoned over forward' the heart. My mind would here 'button over backwards,' but not catch the fourth quarter. (Still working on this description: I would see the 4th quarter, but not fuse it in. I swung over to 270 with 'both' but when the 'sky' opened past 270, and encountered where the cerebellum is, the view of the light quickly accelerated to 360 and 'gravity' fought back from the 270 point on the back of the 'halo.' The 180 to 270 region was blue until it hit the halo. When it hit the halo and the tips of the two poles there was an internal shearing. The light continued to 360 but had a whiteness that mixed into a bluegray heavy light. This swung me back out past 180. Farsight vs 180, watching the ring in the centre and decide that I shouldn't jump across the three layers of rings, just two so that I don't get dizzy or flung too fast. I see it for a moment.(* I'll expand this into the 'opal portal meets the sphere becomes the crystal pyramid atop the obelisk thingy', later on.) It's like the vision light made it all the way, but the third ring would have anchored it. The last layer to complete it was the dark gravity that would have sealed it. Crystallized the 360 Panopticon sight. There's a kerfuffle in the auditorium below. A swirly grey black hole image like beside the Buddha in the enlightenment construct. Next comes an image that was like the dragon breath kumbhaka and then a feeling like 360 slam dunk attempt ministroke. I'm right on this arising, all over it. It's damped. But damping the stroke means pulling the plug on the drain and the panopticon moved back in to the forward facing tunnel. (At this point I was feeling like Nikola Tesla) Because I don't go all the way, I loose the slack, and the sky blue light folds back (like an astronaut's helmet or maybe an internal eyelid) past 180 and Buddha's big for a moment(his image here is similar to the World-Body, Body of Christ, Tower of Babel witnessing at the very moment the red, white, black and yellow was stretched out in the picosecond before THE SPARK) and I'm back oscillating between far sight and 180. This snapping back, the sky was trying to flee away and fall at the same time, and this strangeness led to a whole lot of big white gold sparks in the sky. I remembered Blake's painting of the swirly sky and I remember the Dragon Kumbhaka Pranayama where the man does the stinger cross pose with face to the sky.--I remembered a player in a football game, who I hit so hard, he fell to his knees, arms outstretched, head to the sky and fell on his face. I was a linebacker but I shrivelled to a quivering toddler in a moment.--This football kumbhaka image fought against the equilibrium and I just receded in on the edge of the inswirling prana and as I did, that was when the fleet of sparks came out and I focused away a little on the outpulse of the orbital ring layers, this outpulse was the sweat impulse but it was checked at the coldness before the sweat, and this checking seemed to crystallize the sparks. The sky was inrolling with the sparks superimposed. The inrolling was like the rolling equation sets in the mercury geode. The rolling swirling sky and the 3D came forth in a similar fashion as did the UFO's on Illumination night. They were stationary against the sky swirl. They didn't resolve totally, like the Buddhas under the trees had, but I knew what they were. I stood there awhile looking, like in the university numinous samadhi. This was an incredible witnessing of the highest order, but I was somewhat distracted by the image of the 360 crystal vision... ...All at once I could see: 1)The tunnel farsight, 2)Opal portal with the cross hairs in my imagination construct, 3)5D transforming Sri Vidya, 4)the 180 sight, 5)the swing back to the two poles behind above the auditorium, 6)the 'hop along the rings' 360 sight creation method, 7)the wedging into four, glasslike, 3d pie slices of the sphere and how this linked to the pyramid atop the light staff (obelisk sphere interface) and how all these channels were somehow linked into all the chakras. As senses become 'nested' in meditation, this was the culminating nesting of all things. Understand. In the moment before enlightenment, when the worldbody was reduced to four coloured triangles, this 'nesting of the senses', was four pyramid colours, the foundation of omniscience in the black glassy tetrahedron. I could see how all this stuff, was really just the equation for the rolling equation set in the mercury geode. The ultimate equation. God's TOE. I saw that there were actually levels above the 360 panopticon farsight awareness. It came as a composite image from YT, Big Blue gods holding up their mighty gold maces. Yoda said, "There is no try only do." Above here with the momentum of the prayer wheel columns going on full tilt and giving off the farsight and 180 sight etc, and playing with these techniques: there is 'doing amongst the Being.' Below when I fall into basic harmonic marionetting, I am 'trying amidst the doing.' I started to go back into the basic harmonic marionetting, seeing the pyramids and the columns and the chakra wheels and their Sri Vidya interconnections and when these last few things were going through the head I realized that I was no longer on the 'outside electron shell.' I could see that I would need to 'outsource' my awareness after all, get ahead of myself. I somehow could see that this crystal palace would be unpacked and compressed into the black tetrahedron, and this black tetrahedron was somehow very closely linked to the rotating mirror column in the geode. It was like RNA and DNA. It was a 4D cubing of the sphere. I realized that: including viewer, this was a hypercubic thingy. Changing 'golden egg mercury chaos room' into a Black glass shelled tetrahedron centred with a gold and silver room inside, like the 5D Sri Vidya or the 'castle from Neverending Story.' After this the Farsight tunnel would sometimes be like being on the door step of a cube that has been cut out of a sphere. This entrance into the cube sphere, this needle eye, was like two empty pyramid tips touching. I remembered the sensation of the spark of enlightenment was like two tetrahedrons that were my body first folded in on themself, then fell together, over shot each other and in this overshooting, as hell rose above the Tower of Babel, they would separate just far enough that the inverted pyramid from below would rise above the upright white pyramid from above and as they passed and gravity stepped in to slow their passing. As they reached the stillness, a tiny gap between them opened into a wide clear void, and here was the timeless light spark. (The spark expanded-The mirror room and grey altar chamber viewing portal- the place where the black numinous hole in the heart would draw up Kundalini and draw down the superfluid luminous drop through the King's Chamber.) So I kind of watch the rings inside and think about the receding outward layers. I can see the farsight and the 180 and I'm trying to visualize how to jump from one ring to the next to the next and get 'over the top' into the looking glass. I had remembered the prana rings in the centre of the mind and receding outward in widening rotating rings. I remembered how just before the light staff went on and the 360 omniscient light drop happened, I was being pulled to and fro in the heart in three or four directions and also to and fro inside the looking glass. The to and froing of the looking glass was a lot stronger than the to and fro in the heart. For a moment the to and froing in the looking glass quickly widened, the bands not tiny crystal streaks in short dashes, but heavy wide golden bands stretched out the width of the to and froing for a moment. This brought out an increase in the to and fro inside the heart. I saw the oscillation and began calming them both. When this happened internal pressure started to go up so I let go a little. I started oscillating inside and out of the heart chamber while the rings in the sphere went from thin white to thick gold and jumped a couple shells out. This brought out an unpleasant little light and I let go further. The momentum seemed to have a centrifugal force and I was easily back at the frontier of the heart and sphere oscillation....So anyway, these to and froing rings in the mind's eye were somehow related to the halo explosion. They seemed to be a remnant of a supernova and pushing the rings into a tighter orbit might lead to a blackhole or a wormhole of permanent numinosity or something like that. However the way that the halo peeled open the forehead had a definite orientation backwards. I thought that trying to follow this 90 degree shift of the halo might be the way to get over the top. [(It sure showed me what the pope's mitre (fish hat) meant later on.] ****Tunnel vision. My eyes are disciplined and muscular activity is controlled and minimal. As I walk, the sidewalk ahead looks like the inside of a telescope. A stretched out accordian telescope. I can see the texture of brick 500m away. The eyes easily fall into this groove and a chakra in the head is controlling the strings keeping this far-sight turned on. It feels like a pillar inside my head. It's like the eye of Saruman wants to always see and only see. I remember Swami. "Be Careful that everything doesn't go out through the one sense." I wrest control away from Saruman. Practise all sorts of internal sight exercises. This tunnel is reminiscent of things I've seen on Thangkas and Mandalas. When the tunnel is open, the far sight on, I can sense the relation between 'subtle bodies' and the crescent, dots, lines, sword, eyes on the foreheads of the Gods. I can feel the ventricles, the white swan is fluttering away. Awareness, liquid. The source of the marionette is slowly pulling strings this way and that. There are jugs between my eyes pouring out their contents downwards. I can feel Agna and command perception, the swing-spring-hinge in the forehead moving from low ego-selfishness, toward 1000 petalled Sahasraric gratitude. I use the halo spot as a platform, something solid anchored in the formless unconscious, a 'subtle body' become tangible. I use the geomagnetic field line/sushumna link as a plumb line to the Divine. There is a very distinct difference noticed when the plumbline is off to the left or right and a very obvious settling into the still centre when it is vertically aligned. I notice the bifurcation(symmetrical branching and splitting within the head. I 'see'... 'the horns.' These horns when compressed under the halo are very dangerous, but when they are full grown, they are an 'irresponsible deployment,' a descent from plumb line alignment. Sometimes I notice when 'trying' the plumbline is off to the left, but when I remember that I already know what's happening, I return to inaction in action and the plumbline returns to the centre. Each time an impulse graces the face, it traces out an aspect of Sri Vidya. The marionnette strings of the face. Then it is as if one finds the subtle bodies, and a subtle pattern coming closer and moving away. I can 'see' the inner is the middle of Sri Vidya. The limits of abstraction. Ten(random number) intuitions and one must leap from shoulder to intuitive shoulder and here hopscotch around the air until one let's go in a leap of faith, is plunged into the blackness where one must echo-locate the formless 12 (not a random number) prayer wheels, hold and wait for their frequencies to 'resolve' into the vibration of sound/touch. Of Omkara. Here see the interpenetration of sound/form/body/emptiness, the emergence of the sound syllable, spinning the mantra into physical matter. The tunnel is an attractor of focus. Almost pure concentration. I discover the form of the game I've been looking for all along. The 'virtue tetrahedron grounded in a pyramid' and unfolded. I am 'putting on' the PRINCIPALITIES for FUN, like a surgeon putting on a smock. I put this 'smock' on the 'coat-rack' next to the umbrella holder with my 'sword of karma' in it, beside the toy box, next to the 'high shelf' with that Lingham-like amethyst geode. I realize that this Technicolour Smock, Sword of Karma, Amethyst Geode and even the Magician's Staff are no greater than a single photon falling amongst millions of other photons, near a pore, on the cheek of the Deity. Enough. *****Some get there and the journey's over. I got there and got 'a job.' I'm sitting in near lotus(Yup, I'm gonna have to look the part too.) on a swivelly chair in front of my computer. I'm trying an intuitive 'Joycian stream of consciousness' exercise. Very focused on study, distractions minimal. I quickly look up from reading a book to see what was happening on the computer screen. When I do, Sri Vidya is there for half a blink. The 'blue pool of light'(a side effect of concentration) that had accumulated overhead was seen as a blue cloud parting/resolving into the Sri Vidya. I was so focussed on what I was doing it didn't register much emotion(the drain plug beneath the light). I don't give it much thought either ('Oh. That was Sri Vidya.') I go back to reading. The light's there but, I've got some new yoga book that's explaining how to 'Play the Loom.' Something is on the screen. I look up quickly again and to the left of my visual field... There he is... Krishna. I see his blue face. This time I'm affected. I've seen more than everything I need to see. "The blade in perpetual sharpening, loses its edge." ***I feel 'the Last Temptation'--I'm an older man, I have a son. He has to see what I've seen. I'll mold him with my own hands. It's too close. I MUST trust another. I see Plato's Republic and him passing his path through the hands of others. I know I am in Him. I am, eh OK. *****Enlightenment- many people need only look and see. Some cannot see past looking or reading. Some are shallow poles unanchored in the water below and uninspired by the sky above. Someone sees that the pole goes all the way down, someone else sees a pole all the way up. Someone in stillness sees the pole is a ring, a tube, a link. When that awareness beholds the ring on the chain, or the mirror room of light, and rides the lightning, one is 'up against it.' The very dragon you will see. And here according to the truest desire of your soul you will find the final Bindu. The Middle Way is straight. For curvy people I throw logs in the water and put ladders in the sky. *****The last of the bigger events happens a few days later. I'm walking down the driveway of the monastery. Still lots of snow. I slept in a little so the sun was more than a little above the horizon. I notice that it is at just the right height that it appears to be sitting in a tree, like an egg in a nest. Then I see it. Off to the right there is a white circle in the air. It looks as if a spotlight is illuminating a screen but there is no screen. I can see mist from the Falls flowing from the right into the circle and through it to the left. As each of the thousands of mist drops go through the circle, they light up in bright little golden-rainbow spheres (like the mist on the spider web) and then return to the white mist drops as they leave the circle. The circle exerts a type of magnetism on the mist. The droplets seem to be bottlenecked through the circle. Did Newton see this? Maybe Jacob Behmen. I only pause to look at this for a moment and walk on. The wide angle view kicks in of its own accord and as I walk I get the feeling of riding in a car, due to the manner in which trees are passing at a uniform pace in my periphery. I realize "Um, hey buddy that was something. Maybe you should go back and look." I do. In the minute that has elapsed the white circle has changed its form. It now looks like two white chevrons one above one below. I thought: "Wow, John and the bear man saw a dove but I get TWO birds! I thought of the space shuttle on the back of the 747. I watched for another minute and it faded away. I felt happy. Just happy. Like a little boy who doesn't know bliss or despair. Only happy or glad, sad or mad. That's it, pristinely happy. Simple. Before I wrap this up. ****If I've touched you, it behooves me all the more to offer up these two cautionary tales. I have been eminently aware of the selfish nature that would turn me straight into a Pratyeka, (nothing wrong with that, it's just not in my job description.) A golem. *First tale: I was loving the red rose taste-feel-smell that was swirling my mind. I loved the golden honey. I loved the black clean ozone taste smell. Swimming around like a mad Guru drinking up the nectar ocean not even saving a cup for those on the shore. Enjoying the bliss of Being God just a wee bit too much. The colours turned. I was warned at first when (let's call the synesthesia-vision 'seeing'), the red rose turned to red wine then red blood, then water. I relaxed but my ease was disturbed. The rose 'seeing' came back. I was laughing about all this and the 'honey seeing' became 'seminal seeing.' Not a pleasant experience. Then to make things even more interesting, the clean black ozone 'seeing' became burnt toast. We know what this means. There wasn't any pain associated with it, just knowing. The burnt toast smell happens a couple times. At this burnt toast thing I stopped clutching for the 'colour-'seeing.'' *Second tale: I was feeding on the dragon cycle, almost like a 'spiritual masturbation.' One does not go from bearing the ring, to wearing the ring, to bearing it again, without some scars. I could see that I was carving a schizophrenic like groove into my being. Indulging in the pleasures of the fruits of the path just a little too much. *[I loved that I kept seeing this white-blue sparky (light-beingish) footlong tear drop thing with Arabic script 'written' on it. It would swim around in my field of view on the floor in front of me. I felt, meditating in 'my cave,' seeing this script-light, I WAS The Prophet, and I would now FORCE myself to meditate with the purpose(attachment to the fruits of action, tsk, tsk.) of 'Receiving Q'Uran 2.0'] This thought, I AM THE PROPHET, when clutched at, immediately drains all the light away. I had forgotten to 'let it fall in my lap' and was still grasping. I seemed to be 'still looking for my eyes.' Going so far as to lie to myself, justifying untruths to myself, siding with falsehood. Forgetting about other parts of me. I was taking in way too much sugar. (Failing to honour the temple.)Lot's and lot's by way of chocolate bars, cookies and decaf coffee (milk intake minimal. I found milk chokes up the super-sensitive system, creating excess phlegm and, an unpleasant smelltaste escapes in deep pranayama.)...too much sugar. I was acutely aware that the 'Pratyeka metre' was flashing red and I was weeping away and decided to sit again like a mountain. I had been stretching and could finally relax in a 'highly suspect' lotus asana and get straight up without pain. I was sitting, moving in and out of restlessness, settling, and I tuned into a thin white thread. THE thread. I felt light. I prepped in my mind to stand. I stood up too quickly, losing the slack on the thread, untwisting my legs and turning my torso 180 in doing so. The light thread spread out widely across the upper visual field and the light was HEAVY. Atlas had taken the spinning ball off his finger, turned it back into the weight of the world and set it on my halo. The 'sky was about to fall.' I thought I had done it. I thought that I was about to go out with a bang, then whimper. (I thought that I was the first time machine in the Contact movie) that "I should have got a REAL Guru and, and".....Right here I could see the avalanche of questions and anxiety and doubt and what that was going to do to me in the final moments of my life. I learned that it was important to have 'rapid (immediate) shut down procedures' in place for times like this. I also knew that the 'rules were different up here' and this difference had necessitated the quick (immediate) learning of 'return to 100%.' I made the decision. HOLD! Immediately sweat covered me like the day in the car accident(didn't mention that one but imagine) head to toe. Covered with cold sweat, the insides FIRE. The light contracts into the star, the thread comes down and an electric pain shot out to my extremities (like the meninges cord, just before the 'enlightenment ball/ark of the covenant' drop). At the base of my spine it was as if the stinger was supposed to go to the end of my non-existent tail, but like a phantom limb, the charge crashed in upon and over itself like a train wreck and I thought that 'The Predator' had reached into my pelvis, grapped muladhara and was about to tear my spine out, from the bottom up. I could see all forms of exotic bodily destruction. Dante's pits of Hell. All of the misery in the akashic records arrayed below. I carefully sat down on my bed and then slowly lay down comfortably, to 'prepare for separation.' I didn't yet know that I wasn't going to die. I felt ill, too weak to vomit or shake. This was....well I just described what it was. It says somewhere to be careful with the light and this is what can happen if you are not. *Ending I'm walking down the wide tree-lined sidewalk. The odd car passes by. It's a pleasant day. Spring is beginning. The city, the Casino the row of hotels-the architecture of the world, ahead. The Monastery to the right and the sprawling meadow to the left - the Christ Consciousness. The whole thing has been packed away and put up on a 'high shelf' in the form of a purple and white centred amethyst geode. For a moment I'm above and behind. I see The golden figure of Armour ahead of my body below, Atlas spinning down the world. I see Bach toss 'The Marriage of Figaro' originals into the fire. I toss the gold figure into the toybox. "Puff the Magic Dragon, Lives by the Sea" The finest salves are poured into the sea. Paddle to the sea. I sigh. I see a little boy click up his heels. I walk on. --------------- Thomas Kuhn, author of the Structure of Scientific Revolutions wrote that scientific consensus is not the measure of the reach of the age. New ideas take seed, and take time to take root and grow through the canopy. I walked off the path so as not to be turned aside by 'old wheels' and in this wandering I found the oldest revolution known, rising and falling, within. Epilogue It took a year before I could recall these events. To open up Pandora's Box again and keep the emotions this opening raises at bay, and let the LOGOS flow. Take the journey. The knower of the experience of Pure Awareness gets the kingdom of heaven, earth AND hell and moves among the three by choice. You are the salt and if it be tears, blood, or sweat, use it to season your heart that you may know the inner stillness. Buddha, Socrates, Jesus, The Prophet, Babaji, Shiva and Krishna, and many more you've never heard of, have captured the throne and abdicated it that your belief will lead you to knowledge. To sit on our thrones let your own consciousness be the light on your path, but fear not the dark for we are there also. Do not seek to follow us. Seek what we sought. Seek HOW we sought and you too will find. We went into the LORD-Life or Death struggle with the WORD-Wisdom or Death mantra to guide us. We are always with you. ******* I wanted to become The First; accepted the second and became the All. A disciple asked Buddha: "Why don't you go and enlighten everyone?" Buddha said: "go to all the houses in the village and see who wants it." The disciple comes back disheartened. "Only two people want enlightenment and want you to deliver it to them." That's right says the Buddha. Today the Spirit is flowing mightily amongst Humanity. The 'Christian Project' nearly complete. All of humanity held in antithetical tension, the hub about to break, opening up the space for the insertion of 'the new gear in the gearbox.' Soon it will be 'required' again to receive a 'rite of passage.' The meek have grown fat and hunger approaches. Thousands of years of ground work prepared for The Revelation. The '144,000' accumulating, circling the ground like the angels in the sky, The body of Christ (like the single-celled organisms circling around the centre slime-mold axis, all for a spore), like the body of Islam circling the Kabba, is forming around the central axis. The columns pushing up the Tree of Light Out of The Watery Cave. The wheat walks on water. *** I asked a little creature "Is everyone capable of enlightenment?" (S)He said "Yes!" This matters more than everything else. If I told you, "An animal told me that you can 'get enlightened,'" said no more and was off, I wouldn't have accomplished my goal of 'pushing you 1000 lives closer to enlightenment.' After all what good is it if only I can be HIM. (That's a lot of work) Now go to YouTube, type in the four minute clip 'Little Buddha (Buda)' and see what I mean by "the animal said..." See you soon. I walked two paths with one foot on the high priest of Melchizedek on one side and an ancient Indian shaman on the other. Often I fell into the valley between these two paths. I am a source finder of spiritual wisdom. A confirmer of the faiths. I knew that Catholic meant 'Universal' and though I despised the Church, I thought the 'Christ' was the ultimate mode of presence. All faiths and wisdom traditions, like the wide spectral face of humanity, lead through the door of light. All. It just matters whether you lead, follow or get out of the way. The path is clear. Kris Kristos 2.0 Kristen of Niagara They say Jesus did Sadhana for you. This statement is 'true enough' to be accepted as true. Of this much I am sure now. I sought the universal experience and found Jesus, Krishna, Shiva, Buddha, Babaji, The Prophet, the Saints and the Philosophers all waiting for me. Columns, shoulders I could stand on to see and touch God, Allah and Guru. I saw my own face in the infinite glassbead in the abyss and saw that reflection return to the Light. I am Kristen, (Anointed with my own tears, did I, on the shore of the ocean of Maya, put my eyes into the water and there let inflow the misery of the world, and there, overcome.) Son of Ken and Wendy of the family Rhys-Kuhn (Warrior) And as such 'The Anointed Warrior' As 311-Guardian to the door of the Underworld, a K from Ether One with the Grand Unified Spiritual Theory A GUST The German-English-Irish-Scottish-Tibetan Spirit of the GEISTS *PS- In dad's bathroom there's a mirror that says: "If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle them with BS." and I am a Taurus, so I guess it's up to you. I paint Mona Lisas with Jackson Pollock lurking, so be quick. Much Love to You All You are in Me and I am in U AUM
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