Chronicle Section Three:
HOUSTON! WE HAVE "NON-SEPARATIVE-REALITY"
12 hours of layered stimulus started calmly and quietly enough. At first, unaware of any bodily tension, I simply sat back to watch, rather than do anything. Soon my attention was spent attending to body sensations and becoming more and more aware of a background tension that ordinarily might be unnoticed, yet eventually became amplified to the point of considerable discomfort.
I had started out sitting on a comfortable sofa, but not soon enough I slipped to the floor trying to get my back as flat as possible. I began to see the ordinary imperfections and cracks in the walls become a fantastically beautiful matrix of colored lines. Each pattern stacking and shifting organically as if I were seeing the real appearance of things as more empty space than substance.
My attention continually went to the tightness in my neck and at the same time to the beauty of the objects in the room. The furniture seethed, the carpet rippled, the walls became transparent, revealing a dark and spacious background upon which brilliant colored lines and particles danced in the foreground. A feeling of my physical connection to all of these objects became unquestionably apparent.
I felt safe enough in the setting to eventually close my eyes. I believe I spent most of the rest of the trip that way. When eyes were open, I saw three different people in the room each at different times. These were my newly acquainted guides taking turns at their stewardship of me in my fragile psychedelic condition. Lucky for me, these strangers handled the whole day with ethical and compassionate care.
A remarkable flash of insight occurred at some point about these people walking around the room and translated into a realization about "others" in general: " They were merely an aspect of my own person-ality", and could, should, and would vanish as thoughts, even as entities." However irrational that idea may seem in the light of day, at that moment it was an easily accepted aspect of existence.
Along with the two men who had arranged the session, there was also a woman whom I had not met previous to the start of the session. I became aware of her presence sitting in an easy chair looking down at me on the floor. Her form appeared distorted, plastic and impersonal, but I intuitively ignored all that apparent disfigurement as just part of the magic theatre I was now in.
I felt intuitively directed to ignore the visual hallucinations about my surroundings. Of course in the midst of it, they were not hallucinations, they were what things or objects "really" look like. My attention was really all about the extreme tension contracting my neck and back. I thought perhaps this knot would grow ever more painful and certainly become unbearable.
At a most painful stage, it all exploded into a shower of miniscule particles of pleasurable bliss. Without such rational thought at the time, I can say now I learned what that word "bliss" truly means. These new feelings, visions, and realizations were paradoxically very familiar, somehow. I was carried along in an overwhelming sensual flow, penetrating my skin, my bones, my mind, and beyond.
Utter relaxation followed the fireworks. Meanwhile the objects in the room had added to their repertoire of brilliant dimensional fascinations, colors, and structural flux. I found myself moving around, experimenting, interacting and getting physically entangled with the furniture, falling through the carpet into the floor and such. I actually felt these objects as continuation of my own body and limbs.
I was falling through the pleasurable flux of existence. Everything was in flow. Even when I was not moving, the ecstatic flow continued around me, through me, and beyond the room into a feeling of a vast unseen panorama of space. I recall saying out loud: "So this is it?" as if others in the room were experiencing that same thing. It also occurred to me that it was all "a game;" I laughed at the cosmic joke.
On the serious side, it occurred to me that humankind (at least the figures in the room) had been waiting for me to arrive so that they could get on with it . With what, I am not sure. Such intuitions of liability and responsibility probably continued for a good portion of the session. However, I cannot account for 12 hours worth of content. My feeling, even now, is that the whole trip was only a few hours.
Somewhere near the end of the session: "I am all there is" became the realization. The room had become the entire cosmos and " I was it." Prior to that thought and the notion about the room, my experience had suddenly visually quieted and the only thing apparent in my awareness was the bliss and background buzzing and hissing, lucid blackness, and the curved tetrahedral shape to space.
Floating in the bliss, I rose up through an expansive opening in the surface of the infinite shape of space, it occurred to me that: Existence is this expanding surface upon an expanding void entering into a greater void. Bits of luminous stuff were falling behind in my wake as I entered the blackness of the opening. Ever outward, the universe was expansion of what was into what is .
Arriving at a brilliantly lighted and globe-like room, everything was curving in on itself. The fish-eye room was the all and all of a bliss-filled universe. There were doors and windows but I intuited that if I opened them that they would only lead back into the room itself. All, including my body, was that beautiful seething flux of ecstatic flow. I then was aware of two immense figures in this immense room. I knew them.
We were aware of each other's thoughts. It was as if they had been expecting me. We exchanged loving glances. Then the thought: "This must be eternity," simply being in this perfect room, in perfect bliss with... Suddenly the thought: "No! I don't want this..." their faces suddenly turn forlorn, they move toward me. "What have I done, thinking that thought?" Eternity became a hot claustrophobic womb!
I am caught with these crushing bodies forever. The bliss morphs into an agony of stinging particles. The more I struggle, the more cutting the pain, like thousands of razor blades slicing through the tissue of my brain. The predicament and the pain last for "10,000 years." Suddenly I feel wet. I open my eyes and someone is wiping my forehead. I realize that I am sitting in a normal looking kitchen. "It's over."
Next Chronicle Section (4)