Chronicle Section Nine:
"I" DOES NOT LOVE
My realizations about "love" are most revelatory in that period in my life. As with the newly experienced bliss, that newly experienced love had not been the emotion previously thought to be love. I had learned that love cannot be given, as if it were an object in hand. Rather, it can only be received, like the air we breath and one can only be in love and cannot love as if it were an act of volition.
Along with experiencing the Kundalinic version of bliss (traversing the body core), there was also the type I mentioned that might occur spontaneously at my office desk or anywhere. The later was a melting of the groin and legs into the furniture; a refined ethereal orgasm without climax, ejaculation, or even sexual location. Kundalinic bliss was more a whole-body sensation, often lasting hours.
These various sentient experiences seemed to have their own timetable for arrival and departure. There was no conscious control of them, except to make them vanish when distracted by aggressive thought or emotion. In the beginning anger was actually intolerable and bodily painful. As kundalinic episodes continued over the years, ironically, a sort of background irritability would arrive unexpectedly.
While still in the freshness and transformation of my consciousness, I also experienced a transformation of body. I had previously been a fingernail biter, two-pack-a-day smoker, working in one of the most fast-paced professions on earth, the advertising racket. Without the slightest withdrawal, I spontaneously quit smoking because I could not tolerate it and forgot I even came to forget to bite my fingernails.
Earlier on, between the love-bliss moments, I was still a functional nervous wreck. I would lock myself in the ad agency men's room and lie down on the cold tile floor in fetal position to relieve the painful stress in my neck. A polarity of emotional states became my daily experience for a couple of years. Surprisingly, eventually a kind of "instructive wisdom" developed out of pondering my dilemma.
What all this has to do with metasphere or metaspheric perspective can best be realized if my reader puts himself or herself in my dilemma. Experiencing oneness , in both its bodily-love-bliss and mind-panic-fear aspects leaves [y]our mind grasping and body gasping for explanation. So, can we expect with some immediacy the source of those aspects to at the same time provide some explanation of itself .
My first awareness of a metaspheric perspective was an undefined "nagging," some indefinite notion that the reality-shift had jarred loose, an after image or trailing, having something to do with a structure to self- consciousness, how can we see our self... what is that turn of mind? What leap do we make to say to our self, I am here and other is over there? Can word be used to express it?
Was I wasting my time codifying such a blurred vision? It wasn't even a vision. Certainly not as clear a picture as Ezekiel describes his "Winged Wheel." Mine was not revelation, rather an unbearably slow, almost imperceptible discovering. One summer, a year or so into researching material for the book, I had an opportunity to live on campus at Mount St. Mary's University in New York State.
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