Sometimes an experience comes along. Sometimes something so extraordinary is offered and it changes one in profound, yet subtle ways. I notice myself resonating slightly differently with the world around me after this experience. I feel as though, for a moment I was invited into and touched by a new dimension; new to me, that is, but ancient. It made me wonder if people who do this a lot are very different, happier, calmer, more intuitive. They must be. They must be horrified by those of us who are ruled by base emotions; by anger, by greed; by fear. Perhaps they are too wise to be horrified by anything. Perhaps they feel pity and love. They must feel love.
There is so much more than we are aware of, in this universe. I’m thinking of the character Azaro, I think his name is, from Ben Okri’s The Famished Road. Azaro sees all the spirits that surround us. He sees into another dimension simultaneously with seeing the world by which we are all surrounded. I’m thinking of Plato, The Allegory of The Cave, which is about enlightenment.
My experience was, somehow, like that. It was a kind of vision quest. I saw into another dimension, while simultaneously being at one with the world around me. Truly awe-inspiring! And I had conversations. I had full on conversations with —– who? With my higher self, perhaps? With a council of spiritual deities? With my ancestors? With God?
I am aware of how our idea of God is shaped for us by others. But how do, even they who profess to know, really know. After all, their idea of God is shaped for them by others. They tell us what God says to them about us. What God wants from us. But we also have ears, souls, hearts. Can God not speak to us directly? God can speak to me. I am listening. Perhaps I had forgotten, for a while, to listen. Now, I am listening.
I saw myself surrounded, encased within, a large sphere of translucence. The air was a purple sinuous vapour, like the hazy vapour of undulating atmosphere that you see just beyond the flames of a fire, except this was mauve and purple and lilac and lavender and violet and amethyst and translucent and amazing.
One tree was full of pairs of eyes, just pairs of eyes. They were benevolent eyes like the eyes of the Mona Lisa, or Reuben’s sketch of Helena’s eyes. But these eyes, the eyes in the tree had no lashes , they were unattached to anything, even eye sockets. I thought that these are angels. What do angels need but eyes to see us? Perhaps, if I had spoken they would have sprouted ears. Perhaps all they saw of me also was eyes. Eyes – the windows to the soul.
I was completely unaware of my body, once the purging was over. We began by drinking some strange bitter liquid. It worked on my body, until gradually it worked its way out of my body taking everything with it. If there was so much as a pimple in my stomach, I threw it up. I think I also threw up negative emotions and stored anxieties. And afterwards, I was so light I was almost unaware of my body. The cat came and nestled against me. I found that lovely, but strange, because I didn’t particularly like cats, and they knew it, and they didn’t particularly like me. But this cat made me its comfort, and I liked that.
I don’t know for how long I lay looking at the eyes in the tree, then closing my eyes and visiting worlds of my spirit and my spirits and listening and asking and feeling a joy and the serenity of oneness with God. It can only have been God.
When all was done, everyone present looked so radiantly beautiful. I thought that this is, in fact, what they really look like. They are beautiful when I look at them with the eyes of God in me. I felt so happy – so at peace and full of joy.
For days after I didn’t drink coffee, I didn’t eat meat or drink alcohol. I didn’t want to. I slept. I dreamt. And then, one day I was back in myself, my body, my life. But the joy hasn’t gone, and the inner peace remains and my love for humanity is enhanced and I like cats.