It was August 2015 in the Texas Hill Country. The stifling heat radiating off the dry ground below in waves had given way to an unusually cool evening. I was sleeping in the back of my pick up truck.
The open air enveloped me, and I was relaxed after a long day of volunteering in the kitchen of a youth camp for refuge teens from war-stricken countries.
Washing dishes in a make-shift kitchen in the stifling sun proved so laborious, I held only one speck of energy reserved at the end of the day to do much but surrender to the exhaustion.
I had just gotten off the phone, texting with Jack - a man I spent many lifetimes with and was deeply in love with. He loved me, he said in energy not words, but we would never be together. I took the scraps he gave me like a starving dog and thanked him after he scolded me.
The night gave way to the brilliant stars that lit up the sky and a meteor shower of epic proportions filled the cosmic movie screen projected above as I drifted off to sleep. I lay unable to move in the back of the truck with nothing but a pillow, a sheet, covered with the coarse salt of dried sweat, and a copious amount of hope.
Not hope that Jack and I would be together one day. Not hope that I would stop having all these human problems that never seemed to end. It was the kind of hope that fills up your body crown to toe tips when you have nothing else to lose. Some call it freedom. It was a surrender of sorts, and more so, a path when none others were visible to the human eyes.
I drifted off to sleep. In my dream, I was driving my white truck. Suddenly, thieves approached and began to strip the car as I drove. They ripped off the rearview mirrors, even the doors - anything and everything. I found I held no fear - at all. I just watched.
When the vandals took the tires off the truck, I got out and walked, totally un-phased by the stripping of my vehicle and all that I owned. I just kept walking, nothing in my hands, only the clothes on my back. I walked steadily and peacefully. Numb but full of sensation.
I came to a stream. Jack was there, and he kissed me. But I walked on.
I walked through a knee-deep stream as my clothes began to fall off. Piece by piece I became fully naked.
And I kept walking through the water. I stepped on rocks and my feet bled, the red pools forming in the water beneath them. Jack did not follow, and I did not care. I did not look back. I didn't need to. I knew he was not there.
I passed a group of souls, beings, and I somehow knew were awake, and they said, "Stay here with us. We found Utopia."
I did not look up when I nodded in their direction. I walked on and on, through dark waters. My feet continued to bleed. All I could feel was bliss. Bliss in this moment was steadiness without a high or low. It was pure existence without interference.
I reached a stopping point, still all darkness, and there was no one there. I felt a sensation sort of like love and a lot like acceptance fill my body. It was a peace not available to the human experience and therefore held no words.
I guess it's the kind of experience which only runs on a hope no one else can taste, a freedom which only comes from losing everything. One you cannot know until you are stripped down and strung out.
After the dream, I would try to go back to human life. I continued to wash dish after dish at the youth camp. I smiled at everyone I came across and they smiled back.
And then the hope that often felt like desperation, disease, and despair turned into something else - a guiding force that would not let me stop walking. When the car died, I kept moving. When the clothes came off, I walked naked. When my feet bled, I did not stop. When people showed up, I did nothing more than smile and walk on.
These days - I have been sober for so long now - yet I am strung out.
High as a kite on the non-linearity. Spinning and twirling in infinity beyond the veils of maya.
Instead of walking, I've taken up floating and flying.
My head spins, my heart beats fast and then not at all, and I spin and spin and spin.
And that weird desperate hope thing has turned into knowing.
The knowing feels like the motion of waves in the ocean.
Am I seasick or I am experiencing a reality long forgotten?
The Dream that Inspired the Series
The other night - I'm not sure when it was as I am not sure where I am or what day it is - I had a dream so real I could not shake it. Unable to sleep, I was out in my living room and started up the fireplace as to not disturb my partner, D, who was sleeping in his own dream world.
It was one of those half-awake, half-asleep states that I seem to spend hours in each day. In this space, imagination comes to life in images and sensations, linear time does not exist, and gravity certainly does not hold me tethered to Earth.
In the dream, I was back at the space before I first incarnated in human form. I was handed a drug and told I needed to take it to be able to exist in this strange physical world called Earth. I would go crazy without it, I was told.
The pill - the drug - was Maya - the great cosmic illusion we discussed yesterday - and it would narrow my vision so that I could survive in this strange third-deminisional world. That was my understanding in the dream, though, it did not come with words. Oh so limiting these words are!
Always the adventurer, I took it - I took the drug that lowered the veil before my eyes. Yet, there was just one problem. It didn't work. It would wear off so quickly with each incarnation, I had to take more and more of this drug, yet inevitably it would wear off time and time again. Even if I took enough Maya pills for ten men, it would wear off.
Sometimes it would work, though, maybe for a few months. There was a lifetime or two where it worked the whole time until the very end, and then I would leave the physical form almost immediately as soon as it wore off.
Another problem that continued happening with this defective drug is it would wear off at the most inconvenient times. For example, I would take the drug and be born into a new body. The drug rarely worked on me as a child. However, being around others on the drug seemed to kick the effects of Maya back into gear as I became an adult.
As a young adult - under the effects of Maya - I would fall deep in love with another person, or my job, or a religion, or my art, or anything of the like. The object of my obsession changed from lifetime to lifetime.
Then, inevitably, the passions for the person, place, or thing would wear off almost in an instant, and I would find that I was completely unsatisfied with my experience in the maya, in the duality. And then I would return to self, once again, and almost immediately leave the physical body, starting another round of this drug called, Maya, with another name and another physical body.
The dream was in hindsight, so I could see in this soul timeline of sorts that I began to grow tired of this cycle, yet, in the dream, I knew I could not go back home to the ONE. Even if I could, I did not want to go back home to the ONE.
I wanted to experience the ONE for myself. And I had many times, yet like an orgasm I could not hold, it would slip through my fingers like sand, each and every time. I wanted to experience the ONE in an eternal orgasm of Spirit that was mine alone.
Then I met D in the dream - in linear time, it would represent now. He had been there when I first took the drug, Maya, too. I had watched him take the drug as well.
When we ran into each other in the dream, I went up to him and said - with words --
"Thank God, I don't have to take the drugs anymore!
We don't have to take the drugs anymore!"
D just smiled and nodded like he already knew before my aha! moment.
And then the sensation of Maya left me, the blood stream, the body of consciousness for good. I was awake yet not moving and eyes closed as it happened. I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxation as I lay by the warm December fire of my Colorado home.
Many people who seek spiritual experiences take drugs to remove the veil. The most popular in America spiritual communities is the ayahuasca plant. My curiosity once got the better of me and I tried it, only to find it made me feel sober, flat, and without my treasured imagination, which has been my refuge through the cosmic illusion experience.
I have started to feel the same way about led meditations or experiences, especially what are called merabhs by the Crimson Circle. There's no need to take me out of the state of being that is gracing the Universe of Me. In fact, it feels as irritating as the dualistic Maya pills I was once given. I don't need to be hypnotized into believing I am in enlightenment. I simply AM. A merabh for abundance or ahmyo or anything else is no different than the spiritual affirmation variety. Lack begets lack no matter the sophistication of the "drug" shared.
Perhaps there is no drug, merhaub, super food, fast, or information source that removes the veil?
Instead, what if the Maya is the drug, and what we need is sobriety of the soul - a break from the Samsara -- AND the cycle of SEEKING and RECEIVING over and over and over again.
I don't have much more to say than this dream, which is not captured by words adequately, but perhaps in part by my painting above, inspired the series that will kick off 2018. It shall be interesting for me to see how that shakes out.
Next, I will talk about the physical changes the body goes through in the Triple E and the dynamics of perceived sickness as it moves through the physical vessel expression of the I AM.