Playing Chicken with the Afterlife
Originally published Oct 6, 2014
…continued from previous post, August 18
The following evening, I went right back into my deep meditative trance (which gets easier to slip into the more I do it) and “called” for the spirit I’d been speaking to the previous night.
I don’t know if it was him playing games, another entity entirely, another entity using him as a vehicle, or perhaps my own unconscious, but instead of seeing anyone who might be Kenneth (or Peter Dinklage), I was flooded with images of demons, devils and wild animals. They were really “in my face” and I sensed they were trying to scare me.
I looked at them directly and said (in my head), “Hey! I’m not intimidated by anything in real life. I’m certainly not going to be intimidated or frightened by something that’s in my own head! So piss off!”
It was kind of comical, actually. There I was, mentally yelling at demons in my head, perfectly, logically, intellectually aware of how insane it was. I couldn’t say for sure if I was completely imagining them or if they were “really there” in the astral plane. For certain, I was not dreaming. I was absolutely awake.
They kept coming for maybe thirty seconds more, but I kept ignoring them and brushing them away, and eventually they dissipated and left me alone. This was perfectly in keeping with my personality. I have been known to “go medieval” when someone purposely tries to intimidate or scare me, as happens from time to time on the subway or the street. Bullies have literally backed away from me, cowering…as well they should!
I sensed Kenneth was there, somewhere, even though I couldn’t see him, and I said, “I was really looking forward to hearing more about your life, but not if you’re going to try to f&*@ with my head.” (I wasn’t about to take flak from what was possibly merely a figment of my own imagination!)
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to get through to me, get past all these tricksters, or if he was in cahoots with them, but I wasn’t willing to stick around to find out.
I moved my focus to other things and soon I was so deep in trance and I felt as if I were flying.
It’s hard to explain what came next.
A colorful, changing fractal design totally filled my vision. But it wasn’t so much what I was seeing as what I was feeling. It was as if I were in an alternate reality; as if I’d somehow transcended my body; as if my consciousness had escaped the confines of my brain and was spreading out into the universe. (Sounds so trite, I know!!! But I’m telling it as I experienced it. Readers can make of the information what they will.)
I cannot imagine that an acid or mushroom trip could be more intense. (I’ve never done either drug.) And yet, I felt totally safe and in control. I knew I could “awaken” myself at any time and be perfectly lucid.
Now, I imagine some of you readers will think I’ve gone off the deep end. Maybe this is all too “woo woo” for you. Believe me, it’s even more “woo-woo” to me! I’ve been struggling with this trajectory, myself, since this whole business started.
This is a very deep rabbit hole I’m heading into. Perhaps, ultimately, it will lead to greater understanding of the universe. Or perhaps I will lose my mind completely. I honestly don’t know, and I do worry about it. What if I become confused, and stray from the path to enlightenment and accidentally take some detour to La-La Land? How will I know I’m NOT in the right place? I’m pretty sure that if I ever DO find myself in such place, I will be convinced that I am experiencing reality and have discovered Truth.
What is insanity anyway? “Normal” only means your reality jibes with everyone else’s version. But who’s to say that the guy wearing the tin foil hat isn’t perceiving a truer reality (or at least another valid but alternate version of reality) than the rest of us; a reality to which we are completely oblivious?
Who decides who’s crazy? Maybe insanity isn’t some kind of absolute mental defect, but rather only an alternate perception of reality which is only considered pathological when it’s completely at odds with the main of society.
In his lifetime, Galileo was regarded as crazy.
So was John Nash (“A Beautiful Mind”)
And David Koresh (of the Branch Dividians/Waco, TX)
Not to mention Ted Kaczynski (Unibomber)
They all believed they were totally sane.
I am not one who believes without proof. So far, I don’t really have any (except the names I received initially — see first posts.) Kenneth was probably right. Maybe I’m afraid to ask for proof for fear I won’t get it. Or perhaps I’m afraid that I will get it which would draw me deeper into exploration of the rabbit hole. I (a most level-headed, logical person) worry that I will be regarded as a woo-woo nut job. For the time, being, I prefer to stand back a bit and refrain from committing myself into a new reality.
And yet, I don’t want to stop. It feels good going to that place. It feels right. What I’m seeing explains a lot of things.
I am very much enjoying this process, this listening to and writing the stories. Even if it does mean I’m crazy, I am willing to walk that path.
Which reminds me of the old joke:
A man says to a psychiatrist, “Doc, my wife is crazy. She thinks she’s a chicken.”
The shrink says, “Bring her to me. I can cure her.”
The man says, “I would… but we need the eggs.”
These stories are the eggs. I’m the chicken. Cluck, cluck.
“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” -Rumi