| I feel the familiar swirling halo of warmth around the | | | | these clouds? Could whatever is there possibly be |
| whole of my body as I sit comfortably on a puffy | | | | worse than some of what I have experienced in this |
| couch in my living room. The embracing warmness | | | | life? “But you’ll get lost and never come |
| beckons me to succeed this time; I feel its smile. | | | | back,” I hear shouting in my head, ego doing its |
| White clouds begin to well up ten feet in the | | | | job magnificently. Oddly, I think, in drifting off to |
| distance—Cirrus-type—gently sweeping in a | | | | sleep each night, I trust this exact phenomenon, |
| wisp, like the exhaust from a group of smoldering | | | | precisely. I trust that I will wake each morning, |
| extinguished ember tips. Solid objects that once poke | | | | though there is no indication of that. I figure, What is |
| through the ambiguous cloudiness now fragment and | | | | to fear but this fear? |
| disperse. The door in the distance, pictures on the | | | | After a thousand tries in recent years, I finally accept |
| hallway walls and the ever-present beige carpeting | | | | my fate beyond. I sense past the ball of fear in my |
| vanish lazily as I watch mesmerized in a three-quarter | | | | gut to the breath of the clouds. My body is just a |
| trance. | | | | buzz, and I feel the inside and outside of it |
| There is that heaviness again, in, around, and behind | | | | simultaneously. Suddenly I am seeing through the |
| my eyes, that usual precursor to the fear of going | | | | crown of my head. The clouds summon me forth to |
| farther than this. Familiar pressure wells up at my | | | | the unknown, as if I have succeeded at this a million |
| eyeballs, so they start watering until I remember to | | | | times before. Something tells me I have, but not in |
| soften my focus. My third eye feels swollen and | | | | this lifetime. I wait, though somewhat apprehensive, |
| throbbing. Forward, I see interspersed sparks of | | | | knowing that all of my long-sought answers and truth |
| movement up and down, side to side, in every | | | | lie beyond this point. Awestruck, finally, I walk |
| periphery. Semi-transparent things are flying | | | | between worlds. |
| everywhere, in complete disarray, so it takes every | | | | The magnificent sun shines full blast here now, it |
| bit of concentration to keep from breaking my | | | | seems, pure being in Light—that which all seek but |
| forward focus. | | | | few find. There lay the world’s thoughts, swirling |
| I raise my hands to a comfortable distance between | | | | and vibrating possibilities in the distance of the Void. I |
| my heart and throat and feel sudden rushes of | | | | see the density of thoughts as they build and then |
| energy flowing between them. It is an apparent | | | | dissipate without cohesion. It is at this level that |
| opening I can only describe is as a gateway, and I do | | | | thoughts, whether internally or externally, become |
| not know how I came upon this method but it | | | | blocks, clogs, hooks, attachments—the hindrances |
| works. | | | | of life. They emerge as thick, energetic tentacles, |
| The cloud thickens rapidly, and colors form at the | | | | depleting the life force from bodily energies. |
| outer edges—first grayish-white, then indigo | | | | Everything connects between worlds, as in our own |
| surprise. The colors whirl inward to encompass | | | | lower-frequency world, energetically via webs of |
| everything in front of me. What is left of the scene | | | | vibration, visualized as opalescent filaments and |
| beyond vibrates erratically and dissipates wildly within | | | | dancing particles everywhere. There is no pressure. |
| the forming cloud base. That which originally seemed | | | | On the deepest levels, everyday matters lose |
| solid, shifts and tilts this way and that, finally breaking | | | | meaning and drama cannot prevail. No fear or greed, |
| away. Background sounds of a refrigerator and air | | | | jealousy or pain here. Beyond the body to pure |
| conditioner fade to their lowest drones, and suddenly, | | | | thought, things that mattered just moments before |
| nothing exists beyond the clouds. | | | | mean nothing. The pace is so relaxed and it flows |
| I have been afraid to get beyond this point for so | | | | supremely, open and free, no constriction. I must |
| long, I think lightly, not heavy enough to kill the | | | | bring this to the people, I think, as I drift further into |
| trance. Why am I so afraid of the reality beyond | | | | the Void. |