Enlightenment

Dear yous,

I want to share with you a semi-dream experience I had the other weekend.  This is not your typical dream, and actually I wouldn't even describe it as a dream in the typical sense of how that's understood, of a story unfolding or maybe vague images and dream sensations.  It was more like a mode of consciousness maybe or simply an experience, I don't know.

The actual thing of it lasted maybe a few seconds that I was consciously aware of in the normal waking sense.  I was aware of my body but not awake...but that's not entirely true, I would say I was awake, conscious, but in different way.  It was a space.

In this space was nothing and yet it was my body.  My body was the space but my body wasn't fundamental.  The space was fundamental.  I understood both things to be true.  I am the space and that space also is my body.  The fundamental part of me is the space, which is just one space, a singular space, indivisible, fundamental, unwavering, empty, aware, full space. 

In this space, the unified body-space, I felt ecstasy of the literal sense.  I didn't feel ecstasy.  There was no separate "I."  I used to read about this kinda stuff and be like, whoa, that's some twisted logic and it sounds scary as hell.  But it just was.  Even writing this now, I feel no great sense of urgency to communicate this, like, I can take my time, even though I am excited to share it with you.

The ecstasy was in most of my body, in most of the unified body-space, but it felt more concentrated on the left side.  This makes sense because I broke my right arm pretty seriously a few years back and I think the right side of my body is a little misaligned, out of whack.

Then there were lights, a serious of circular lights going across  my forehead, in this body-space, like the sun, like if you saw a time lapse of the sun across the sky.  It was bright, like the sun, but not blinding and it wasn't separate.  It wasn't a separate sun in this space and there wasn't movement, there wasn't a progression because it was all the space and the space was fundamental.  But to describe it, and remembering it, it was a progression, that went left to right across my forehead.  I take the cloudiness to be the impurities in my body-space, the stuff that still must be worked out.

I felt the energy rush up my left side, across my forehead, the sun progression non-progression happened and I heard a voice say "Now you are enlightened."  It was not my voice or a mental voice.  It was a voice in the space.  I realized this at some point and made a joyful ecstatic orgasmic sound, breath, and then normal consciousness kicked in as a tension.  I think I felt my partner stir.  And at some point they got up out of the bed and I had awareness of the space and physical reality around me at the same time.

There were three levels of awareness that unfolded in an order.  The fundamental level was the space.  The next level is body awareness.  Body in bed, partner stirs.  Groggy, a kind of tug of war between the two.  Little sense of boundary.  Wanting to get back to the Space proper, realizing the inevitable fading.

The third level is awareness of physical reality.  Partner getting up.  Construction of mental world, day-to-day identities.

I've experienced this before at a much slower pace, so I can recognize what this is now.  Space.  Then construction of identity.  I experienced this as a from-scratch construction of the world from absolute stillness, slowly, over the course of maybe a few days or weeks?

Mental conception spinning, explaining internally, but not hooked to anything.  Joy, terror. 

In the Metro station waiting for the train back to Philly, visiting a friend in DC, I catch the eye of a homeless woman and feel the depth and weight of her shame, slow, heavy vibrations in the eyes, light shining thru nonetheless.

"This can only exist because I created this."  I feel responsible for the homeless woman.  Her grief was connected to my grief but I wasn't connected to my grief.  There were manic thoughts.  The world fades and then reconstructs itself again, over and over, in the moment, in the line that forms around me for the train.  The line forms ahead of me, behind me, I am negative space.  I am a bright concentrated point.  I created this.  If there is no separation, then I created this.  This separation is an illusion.  Time is depth, refinement.  Nothing new is ever added.  Nothing is taken.  Refinement. 

I saw it start from scratch when I woke up.  Stillness, then another level of refinement, then another, more specific, then another, like a fractal.  The space became segmented in a fractalic way, one fundamental space, then large blocks, then smaller blocks, then smaller blocks, till something came into mental space that was recognizable, that could be described.  Yes, that's a tree, that's what it's called.  A tree has a sound associated with.  Squiggles on a page.

The structure of things becomes clear.  The structure is body tension moving through space.  Humanity is a connected web of body tension moving through space. 

People have their routines, the same things they do every day, the lines they walk, the papers they read and I was outside of this.  I was seeing the structure, the rigidity of bodies, but I had no body.  I was a point of consciousness.  I was negative space around which physical space moved, independent of time.  What occurred now wrapped back around me and through me in all dimensions to meet that occurrence.

I don't feel agency.  There is no me.  There are thoughts and 3D visuals.  They are not hallucinations.  I understand that I am seeing reality from a higher dimensional space.

If I can see my shadow in 3D space as a 2D projection, then my 3D body must be a projection from a higher dimensional space.  Without time there is absolute. 

My friend opens the morning paper on the train and the page is blank.  The words appear as he reads them.  I experience the reality of that paper appear for him.  I can see him read what I understand to be the "newspaper" and that's in my reality, but the words on not in my reality.  The words are squiggles.  They are patterned symbols without inherent meaning.

As my friend reads, the words appear and the meaning appears.  I feel fear.  I feel body tension.  It's recognizable as typical news headlines.  But my body is all of the bodies of the people in the train car.  It shifts, it moves, it's dynamic, it's a wave.

I get back to Philly and have a therapy appointment.  I arrive on time with no agency of my awareness.  That office did not exist before I arrived and though recognizable, it constructed itself as I arrived, just in time, in perfect time with everything else.  Fast movement, gross movements into slower, more subtle, refined movements, till stillness.  I sit down and open a magazine and the words appear as I read them, on a blank page.

In therapy I try to explain my experience of being 5D but the thoughts are manic.  There are too many levels for the true communication to get through and the communication is fundamental, it is now.  It is the thing.  I am that.  I am this.  I am not confined to three dimensions.  You're looking at me like I'm crazy.  You look concerned.  Everybody always looks concerned when I try to explain this stuff.

Today, present day reality, I had a powerful orgasmic experience.  I cried afterwards.  I wept.  I felt the tension in my face melt.  I felt my abuse event(s).  I felt strong physical tension,  tension in my neck, at the base of my neck where my head meets my spine.  I feel this to be the place I retreat to, the source of some essential tension in me.  The absolute horror and withdrawal without escape.  I felt that but was not in it.  I was OK.

There is no language, I am sublanguage.  I feel shame.  I feel shame pass.  I take a shower.  I am ungrounded.  I squeeze some shampoo out of the bottle in my hand and that is comforting.  I've done this before.  The pattern of identity reconstruction is much faster now. 

The neighbors upstairs banging still triggers me, the repeatative motion, the frantic nature of it.  I think it's because it was the upstairs neighbor who did it, who abused me.  Or there was an upstairs neighbor home, making noise while it was happening. 

I have band practice tonight.  I feel excited about that.  My identity has been reconstructed.  I've gone outside myself and back.  I am the Space and I still have to do the dishes, so I will do them with joy in the recognition of this.

Love,
Casey