posted on Feb, 1 2016 @ 12:41 PM
I hope I won't regret this.
Many years ago I had an odd experience. Perhaps it was a dream. Perhaps it was a vision. To me it was simply an unusual experience. I am hoping that
it might shed some light, or at least a different point of view, towards these unanswerable questions. If not, please accept my good will
intention.
In this experience, I found myself floating on my back in what appeared to be a kind of empty space. I had the impression that I was about 4 feet off
the ground, but I don't know why I had that impression. I felt alarmed because I didn't know where I was, nor what was happening.
Then I became aware of a grayish fog that seemed to encompass my body and it begin to separate itself from me and began to move towards the area of
where the floor would be, if there had been a floor. I didn't know what that fog was but it seemed that it was a part of me, and I continued to feel a
certain alarm, as I didn't know the purpose of this fog and if it were a necessary part of me. As the fog separated from me, my body felt lighter and
it began to float a bit higher, as if the loss of this fog had upset a certain equilibrium. Again, my alarm grew because I was now moving higher and
didn't understand how or why, nor what would cause this movement to stop.
At that point, once I had risen maybe 6 inches or so, thousands of very small lights began to enter into me from all directions. As these lights
entered, they seemed to allow for a displacement of the fog and I ceased to float higher and became stabilized. In fact, I may have gone back down to
the original position but I have forgotten that detail, as I have not thought of this experience for many years. It is the questions raised by this
post that has reminded me of this.
Once my positioning had stabilized, my alarm switched to more of a calm curiosity. The lights that had been flowing towards me, that seemed countless,
now took on a different quality and began to circle up, around, beneath, through me and up again, on both sides of me, as if it were a strange
doughnut type of light show, or the way we see the electromagnetic field being shown going around the earth. On my left side, they were circling up
and to the left. On my right side, they were circling up and to the right. There was no sound discerned in any of this.
This seemed to last for only five seconds or so, and then it stopped, but the experience seemed to be seamless as it continued to unfold. On my right
side, I became aware of a large rock, perhaps half my size in bulk. When I looked at it, I spontaneously entered into it and became the rock. I was
still me, but I was also the rock. I could feel that the rock was alive and had its own consciousness that simply shared and co-existed with me at
that moment. And then I was back at the spot where it had begun. On my left side, I became aware of a small tree, again about half my size and upon
looking at it, I entered into it and became the tree. I was again, still me, but also the tree, and shared its consciousness for a moment. And then I
went back to the spot where it had all begun, floating again on my back. I was aware of my own consciousness as being independent of all three:
myself, the rock and the tree, and I felt a curious shame and wonder, to realize that I was no less and no more important than they.
At that point I became aware of a sound. It was coming from above me, with the impression of it being perhaps the distance away of a 20 story
building, up and barely to the left of me. As my attention turned towards it, and actually began to go past it, I realized that it was the sound of a
most powerful man speaking and I could barely make out the sensation of visions within visions. I wondered what that was, and who that was, and I
somehow knew a riddle, that this was "The Voice of Genesis." Now, logic would protest but this was not a place for logic. This was something
mysterious that was unfolding and I was simply a passive and curious observer. While I couldn't make out any of the words, I could feel the power of
them and could sense that everything was unfolding according to what this Voice was saying.
But as I moved beyond that Voice, just a tad higher and beyond it, my understanding of what was happening changed. I had a sudden knowledge that even
though things were unfolding according to that Voice, that it was not that Voice that was causing anything to unfold. I actually felt a little
embarrassed for it, as it sounded very confident in its own declarations. But what I knew to be true was that everything was unfolding as it should
and would continue to unfold, even if this Voice were to become silent.
At this point I became aware of a "Presence" that was higher still above me, again, just ever so slightly to the left, and so high up in distance from
me that I would need to travel perhaps the distance of a high flying plane, or to the moon, or to a star. It was beyond my ability to have a sense of
measurement, but I found myself being drawn towards it. I seemed to travel rather quickly towards it, but then just shy of reaching it, I stopped. I
don't know how I stopped, nor what stopped me, but I was flooded with the impression that I could not go any further -- that I was not allowed
to go any further. Still, I had gone close enough to discover that this was the Origin of Everything -- and to my shock, that It was
Impersonal.
The experience ended there.
This experience shattered any previous feelings I had of a warm and fuzzy God, or of a scary God for that matter. I was actually almost disappointed.
But mostly I was awe struck and I felt privileged for the experience, regardless of its origin.
Do I understand it? Not a bit.
There are things beyond our understanding, but that doesn't stop us from wondering. In fact, it has us wonder all the more. Do I believe in God? Yes,
but not the God I was taught to believe in. Instead, I turn my beliefs towards the multitude of messengers, or rather, their message, but always
allowing for a difference of interpretation, culture, semantics and understanding. Perhaps some day, when my own journey has ended, I will know, but
for now, I accept the Unknowable.