Drifting Through Infinity (A Drug Overdose)

                                        

 “If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.”                                             William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell 

Body awareness has abated except for the arrhythmic breathing and the erratic palpitations of my heart. Though these too, depending on how immersed I came to be with the inner world, fade from awareness. Loosening the last anchors tethering me to this "reality".Occasional feelings of fear surface from the depths as I was losing touch with the reality, and the vessel which translates it, I was accustomed too. The sometimes erratic missed steps in the beating of my heart brought the fear of death... Forever stranded in an omnipresent dimension of shifting shapes, forms and colors. (Though, in retrospect, it begs the question of "it" being any different from "this" reality? Aside from coherency and the altered flow of time.)

I become consumed, integrated, by darkness; regressed into the infinite expanse of Void within. That backdrop in which the waves of light and sound ripple into motion the evolution of creative expression called existence. I am now submerged into the original Origin of Existence, the Void of Infinite Potential. Before the light, there is Darkness, the space which allows the Light to exist. 

Before there was Light, there was Darkness."Let there be light!"

The spectrum of color comes in waves and haze; merging and separating and flinging each other about in a kaleidoscopic dance upon the stage of perception. After a time, they merge and meld into more complicated patterns, coalescing into a sequence of forms. Something akin to reality as most of us know it, but with less immersion and fleeting in sequence; I suppose ´´condensed´´ is the word. Infinity in snippets of visions with feeling, of which I can only surmise to be glimpses of past lives - Instantaneous momentary glimpses of the entirety of lifetimes.

At one moment the awareness is gliding through the cosmos at unimaginable speeds, unrestricted by physicality. Now existing as an orb of self-aware perceptual intelligence; limitless omnipresence as a localized individual entity.  Light-speed does not equate, time itself is no barrier in this state. All possibilities exists simultaneously; for existence is Infinity incarnate inside Itself. That being said, "I" was not in control of my "self", "I" was at the whim of another. The all pervasive Intelligence, of which we all are individual aspects of, guided me on my way. From the views of cosmic travel, I come to be projected on an Earth far removed from what I was familiar. I was now in what I believe to be southern France pre-gunpowder era. There was a battle going on...and I was a combatant. Fighting with spears mainly, as well as some swords and other melee objects.                        

It's not long before I become a spectator drifting above the battlefield. I have left the body in death and had not realized it and, am now, drifting above and fading away. Swaying back and forth like a pendulum of perception, rising ever higher. The periphery of perceptual awareness begins to distort and dissolve again, evaporating back into the Source. That infinite ocean of Light and Sound. The manifested waves of frequencies rippling upon the Void of pregnant potential. I was fading away, watching the last bits of a battle I no longer have any stock in, drifting ever higher. The erosion of visual reality closes to completion and I, too, evaporate back into the Source; engulfed in light for the next scene to begin anew. Like the progression of a play, one scene ends with the dropping of the curtain of light, than the light begins to differentiate itself into different shapes, colors and forms. Manifesting the next act from the epic drama that is Life Eternal.

The next scene materializes, and I am now dressed in tan overall khaki's with a cotton long sleeved shirt, hand-in-hand with my six year old daughter as we stroll down the dirt road, along the wood fence encompassing our property. Wheat fields shimmering in the midday sun on our right. The wood line of old growth forest to our left, with its vibrant emerald green contrasting the fields golden hue.  It is now the 1700's, I know not where. The scene was brief in vision yet full in experience. There was no mother in the scene. Yet I knew, I felt, that she was no more; death taking her in exchange for our child. I could feel the memory of her through our daughter's hand.

These things are hard to convey the immensity of lucidity in the moment of experience. We are so used to understanding things by way of the senses and cannot fathom a wordless, time bypassing, bestowment of experience from within the subconscious.  That space through which all life emerges, as flowers burst forth from the soil. All attempting to ascend ever higher, transcending what came before.