This is A WORLD OUT OF MIND, my Online Journal where I explore Consciousness and the Ultimate Nature of Reality by the intentional alteration of my own belief structures, using Salvia Divinorum and additional self-altering meditational techniques drawn from Western Ceremonial Magic.

I always attempt to adhere to the scientific method as much as possible in my explorations, and while I often speak of these experiences as if I knew they were Truth, I always consider the alternative, that it is merely self-deception on my part, and think accordingly. Thus I maintain two parallel world views at once, one aspirational and one a safe fallback into standard materialism.

The more I journey into salviaspace, the more I think the former worldview is the correct one, but there is no objective way to prove that to the world, so I'll let you, the reader, decide for yourselves.

-Saint Brian the Godless

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Friday, October 25, 2013

A Powerful Mantra, Given Unto Me

Had an unusual experience last night. (Of course, they're all unusual...)

I found myself in a realm of words, a very dark place. Phrases, thoughts, words, parts of sentences, all around me, permeating me. I was adrift there, with almost no sense of self at all, practically unconscious, but then a short phrase popped into prominence in my mind, and for some reason I clung to it like a life preserver at sea. I did not think of it. It was just *there* all of a sudden, amongst all the myriad others. This phrase had the odd property of forcing me to notice it, and then causing me to focus on being balanced and not allowing me to get distracted by all the other thoughts and phrases and whatnot. It kept me centered in that dark and confusing realm.

I took great pains to remember the phrase, which was very difficult.

It was "I Love This Feeling, In The Exact Middle"

This phrase has an unusual quality that caused me to be able to hold onto it. It is prominent, self-referential and creates a property in my mind of "self-correcting focus."

The first part is psychological bait. It focuses the emotions like a magnet on the phrase itself, which focuses them in turn on the feeling of the moment, which is of course the experience itself.
The second part is the rudder. It kept me balanced and not distracted. I kept to the "middle." The word "exact" added power to it, a sense of extreme precision. Using this phrase I began to rise through many, many levels of consciousness toward waking consciousness. It was just like an elevator; holding onto it, and it holding onto me, I rose toward waking reality, through so many levels that it felt like I was at the bottom of the Marianas Trench, and rising through miles and miles of "water." It was accompanied by the sensation of awakening, and then awakening again, and again, and yet again, over and over, as if at each level I had to "wake up" to that level, and then strive once more to awaken to the next level, and then the next. I even got a visual sensation of me being balanced on a "waterspout" and the phrase kept me from falling off to the sides as I rose. (Kept me in the "middle.") I would not have been able to remember the deep part of the experience at all if not for the phrase helping me to retain the knowledge of it.

This phrase felt like it was given to me as a gift. I will incorporate it into all my future meditations. I can remain focused with it running in my head regardless of how turbulent the "waters" of my mind are. It feels very powerful somehow.

I should note that the phrase consists of two parts of exactly sixteen letters each, four words to each part for a total of eight. A very symmetrical phrase, numerologically powerful. One phrase in two parts, four words in each, a total of eight words, sixteen letters to each part, thirty-two letters in all. 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32. Amazing, because I did not think of it. It just happened.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

A Dream Within A Dream?

Last night I had a long experience which involved feeling my body passing through membranes that were the borders of universes. At least that's what it felt like. At one point I felt my face pressed up against a sheet that flexed like rubber, a clear and vivid sensation of a border between spaces that are not visible or possible to sense in a normal state of mind. Then I also sensed the 'texture' of reality itself, as if it were composed of this flexible, almost gelatinous substance that takes on any form that we want it to.

All of which can of course be merely an illusion, my mind interpreting hallucinations in a believable way. That would be the right answer for a rationalist to reach.

However, this is the part that puzzles me, the part that doesn't fit into that rationalist's box:

At the end of it all, as often happens, I felt the space around me distorting, a visible distortion of the room around me, a twisting, a flexing of space itself, or so it seemed. It progressed through me and I saw it getting larger, more pronounced, and then I heard a series of panicked grunts.

My dog, resting on the bed a few feet away from me, saw it too. I mean, there can be no doubt. I was paying attention to the 'field' of distortion, and saw it moving toward the dog, and fully expected him to react (which he has many times in the past, as chronicled here on this blog) and he did not disappoint. He rolled his eyes in near-panic, and made those grunting noises as the 'field' approached him. I know my dog. He was clearly afraid. And he was also clearly not looking at me, but at the distortion that I too could see. He even moved back as the edge of the 'field' approached him.

I've been looking at this wrong, I think. I keep putting it in terms of 'universes' and 'multiple realities', insisting to myself that it must somehow fit into the paradigm of what science has decided is real or at least hypothetically real, but lately I'm coming around to the idea that all of that is just illusory, all of science is just illusory, all of human knowledge is just illusory. Oh, it works just fine when applied in our particular communal dream world where we've agreed on the rules, but it's useless in even attempting to describe the deeper nature of reality because it is rooted in our *belief* of how things work rather than how they actually work. The scientific mind-set is still of great value, but the data and all that prior experience is not of much use at all outside our little box, and will merely serve to further deceive us in most cases.

This is a dream, a consensual, communal dream, and so all that other stuff that we like to assign to it is ultimately false in the larger picture. Science, that enormous edifice of knowledge, that pyramid of observations and data and experimental results and advanced theories, is something truly beautiful that we have built, and we should be proud of it. However it is I think something that we have also created, hewn out of the infinitely malleable "substance" of this particular reality. We have built upon what has gone before, layer by layer, and then decided that it is true, 'proven' that it must be true, and so it becomes true to us. However, this is still Maya causing us to deceive ourselves, only on a global, long-term level.

Maya deceives, and what's left after all the deception? The deceiver itself. Maya. Reality is deception by nature, for the simple reason that it gives us what we are expecting it to, every time, and at all levels of examination, from the smallest to the largest. Given that, we cannot help but deceive ourselves.

Even perhaps while on salvia. One must be careful to not be too quick to accept anything to be true on first blush.

The idea of me sensing different universes is all well and good, but how does the dog see them too? That's the sticking point. I'm the one on salvia. Logically, he should not be able to sense anything, even if hypothetically I am actually sensing what it seems that I am sensing.

So I asked myself, what *would* the dog be able to sense? What kind of disturbance could I hypothetically create in my room that a dog can see, just by me seeing it?

If I see the borders of universes or distortions in space because I have sufficiently altered my senses and changed my perceptions of reality so that I can see them, that's me seeing them. Good for me. However, the dog would not see them, because he doesn't normally see them when I'm not seeing them, or at least it certainly doesn't appear that he ever does. My being able to see them does not in any way translate to my dog also being able to see them. So perhaps that's not what they are.

What can they be? What would the dog sense as well? Only one possible answer as far as I can see.

Distortions in the communal dream itself.

If we all co-create reality, it logically follows that if one of us suddenly alters their expectations of said reality on such a basic level that it alters their contribution to the dream itself, produces a "ripple" in the communal dream, a subtle distortion of the gestalt experience, that would be the kind of thing that hypothetically a dog might be able to see or at least sense. Or a sleeping person, like all those times that my sleeping wife reacted to it as well.

If these things were actually multiple universes, or distortions in space, how could me seeing them on salvia possibly cause my dog to see them too?

Not possible. Not even remotely possible.

However, if this is all a communal dreamlike state in which we, all observers, even animals, contribute to the "final product", then a sufficient alteration of my contribution to the experience might hypothetically distort the communal experience enough for another being to sense something amiss.

This is what I'm coming to. All the quantum physics research that points to multiple realities is a blind alley, or perhaps at best a shadow of the truth cast upon the wall of our dogged insistence upon a belief that all is and must be as it appears to be. It's just what happens when we look at the dream closely enough, in enough detail. Reality, which it so say the Dream of Reality, is merely giving us what we expect it to in that context: Apparent possible explanations for the inexplicable. That's why they make little sense to us. Because we're trying to define and examine a reality that isn't there, and the dream of reality is allowing us to find things that seem to explain it.

But that's all just us trying to define the box from inside it. Not gonna happen.

If we always get what we expect to find in some way, then the only way to see the truth is to realize that they truth is merely that we always get what we expect to find, and knowing that, one can deduce that the true nature of reality is just that and that alone, no other frills attached.

That's it. We're done here. No need to go further into it. It really is just that simple.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

My Left Hand (with apologies to Daniel Day Lewis)

Last night I had a very realistic experience, a wild vision. Wild in the sense that it was so clear and "mundane," and yet so unbelievable.

After taking salvia, I sat there eyes-open and saw my reality become pixelated and 'static-y.' Everything was 'snow' like in a television set tuned to an off-the-air channel, but with the room still clearly visible, albeit snowy. Everything was made of static, my body included. I had the compelling sense that my own body was just a part of the illusion that is reality, that it was a part of the surroundings and not a part of the real me. (I've had this happen many times in the past, too.)

When I'm in this state, I can touch a passing cloud of static and feel it. Feel it with my hand, and feel it passing through my hand.

I could feel the static inside of me as well. My whole body felt pixelated and made of static, even on the inside.

Sitting there, my attention went to my left hand, which felt strange across the back, near the base of my fingers. So I looked down at it and there was a dark, reddish bar across the hand where it was tingling. Like a dark red band of shadowy 'static' brass-knuckles on the back of my hand where the strange sensation was, overlapping the base of my fingers. It felt icy-cold and tingly, and it moved with my hand. This was just the beginning though, because when I raised the hand up in front of me to look at it, what I saw was frankly amazing.

My whole hand was pixelated static, like bad reception on television, with vertical gaps in it!

In other words, here I am looking at my own hand and it's divided by vertical slices taken out of it, as if those parts of my hand simply hadn't properly coalesced. Each gap was approximately a half-inch wide, perfectly straight with straight edges, and aligned along the long axis of my hand, from fingertips to base of palm. About three or four slice-like gaps, through which I could clearly see the room behind my hand showing through. Move the hand, and see the background move through it as if the slices were real, actual gaps. As far as I could tell, they were. I could see details of the room around me very clearly through them as I moved the hand, as if those parts of my hand simply were not there.

This startled me greatly, so I went into 'automatic wake-up mode' as I've conditioned myself to do in such cases, and so became very coherent and rational, examining the phenomena, which did not dissipate. The gaps moved with the hand; they were not fixed in space but were fixed in relation to the hand. The background (room, walls, carpet) was clearly visible in detail through the slices and seemed to be undeniably real and true. And even stranger, I could feel each gap as an icy-cold tingling void in the hand. I could feel the gaps. Clearly feel them. No pain at all, just tingling icy cold vertical gaps in my hand.

This experience was so convincing and realistic, seeming even more real than regular reality, that in the moment I said to myself, "it's hard now, with seeing this, to ever think that the Universe is not made up of consciousness again."

I think that these sorts of experiences are more compelling to me than when I encounter another personality like in my previous two posts. More real somehow. More indicative of the true nature of reality than encountering a 'demiurge' or feeling like the "One" gone insane. Those things are likely projections of my own thoughts, but I wouldn't think of something like this. It startled the hell out of me.

This world is a projection of pure consciousness, and anything else that we take it to be, is just us deluding ourselves into a deeper belief in the illusion. That's pretty much where I'm at now, and this experience is definitely something that is pushing me over that edge into belief that consciousness is the ground of all being.

The real me, is my consciousness. My body, and all my surroundings are no more than parts of a very realistic communal dream, and with salvia I can see the curtain pulled back on all of that and the real world show through, sometimes with disturbing clarity.

Sometimes it even "shows through" half-inch gaps in my own hand.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The Darkest Interpretation

I must preface this by saying that I think salvia is potentially as deceptive as reality itself (Maya) can be, so nothing gleaned while using it can be positively known to be the truth. I take this as a comfort in the context of what I am about to relate:

The Darkest Interpretation Of Reality

On many trips I have found myself in a situation where I seem to just know things about the Universe. In many of these I have run across a dark interpretation of reality that I've never heard any of the New Age crowd talk about. Oh sure, I hear them talk about how All Is One and how great that is, and how we are all facets of the One that is All There Is, and when we die we return to that source, that loving source of all, and how mindblowingly wonderful that must be. I mean, it does sound pretty good. And I do get a strong sense that we are indeed all facets of the One Thing; that we are indeed all One.

The people that believe in such things generally say that the One separated into the Many in order to create the Universe and all within it. It was an act of love, so they claim. What else would it be?

On my travels into salvia space, I heard something else. (More accurately sensed it as if it had happened to me)

The One did indeed separate into the Many, but that was no act of love. It was an act of desperation fueled by abject horror.

The One went insane, you see.

The One was ALL that there was, the only single solitary thing in existence, and eventually after eons of that, it fractured into the Many in much the same manner that a schizophrenic descends into madness- out of sheer stark-raving terror. It was so *lonely,* so very *lonely,* and it could only hold dialogue with itself. More utterly *alone* than anything we humans can even begin to imagine, utter terror, the darkness of madness, and the prospect of eternal fearful isolation drove it to fracture itself into many minds all desperately trying to cling to and believe that they really are individuals which are completely separate from each other and above all else, that they're really definitely positively not in actuality only one being.

(please oh please oh please let's never ever ever let ourselves remember that we're really all just one solitary being, not that, not ever, never please never, anything but that...)

The whole reason we're "here" is so that we don't have to be *there.* There with the One, there in that awful state of knowing full well that we are not we, we are instead I, and I am fucking lonely and afraid and absolutely mindlessly terrified of my reality as the only fucking being in all existence. Not just the only being, but the only thing! Hell, there *IS* no existence, only me.

Anything but that, anything but that, anything but that. Worse than death is eternal solitude. Worse than death is not being the Many. Worse than death is being all that there is.

We cling to this reality with all our might, because it is the balm that soothes our brow, the sanity that we lack in our natural state as The One Single Being with nothing to do but contemplate itself and go eternally fucking nuts because of it.

God has multiple personality disorder, times infinity.

The first time this came to me it overwhelmed me. I actually cried for The One in pity, feeling it's awful pain, vividly sensing it's despair and loneliness, and then TERROR STRUCK ME as I realized that it was myself that I was crying for, for I am it, and it is me, and we are/I am a royal fucking mess. Yes, we/I deserve pity if anyone does, but there's no one to pity me but me, no one else to turn to for comfort, and no way to deal with myself and what I really am and remain sane other than to deny to myself that that's what I really am. I must live a lie or face my own insanity.

So that's what I've been doing, for pretty much eternity now. Reality is a by-product of my desperate need to distract myself.

I am the subject and the object. Not nearly as much fun as being the Alpha and Omega, let me assure you.

So the multitudes are all a self-inflicted wound to distract me from the fact that I am all there fucking is, and all there fucking ever will be, forever and ever, amen. Individuals of a certain introspective temperament such as myself seek one-ness, never realizing that we are only here as individuals in the first place because we are fleeing it desperately.

Maybe sometimes finding higher knowledge isn't such a good thing?

UPDATE 5/28/2014: Apparently the above experience is not unheard of, just not common. Also, and interesting to note, it's not known through an hallucinogenic/entheogenic drug experience but through meditation, a form of samadhi. This was brought to my attention by a reader: