Welcome to Green World

Through the years of my experimentation with salvia divinorum and my own consciousness, I have from time to time found myself in a place that I've only shards of memory of. Recently I once again found myself there but somehow managed to awaken a tiny kernel of my analytical mind and ask myself a few questions about the experience. This is what I recall about it now.

It's a very deep place, seemingly underlying all consciousness, all reality, all dreams, all feelings and sensations. Almost like the static of a television station that is lacking a signal. The baseline of all consciousness. Perhaps like an infinite three-dimensional canvas for all conceivable realities to be painted upon. "The Matrix," in a way.

I call it Green World, for lack of a better name. It happens when I sink deep within myself, past even my own sense of "I AM" down to just an inchoate sense of pure "I."

With eyes closed, an inner light, bluish-green in color, is seen in my visual imagination. It just appears, at first a dim glow, soon intensifying to a bright sparkling static-filled three-dimensional world with nothing in it but the basic structure of reality, thin interlocking green and red threads, tiny filaments, so tiny, but everywhere, making up dim shapes in this glowing world.

The sparkling blue-green glow replaces my body, beginning at the forehead and region of my eyes. My body thus is dissolved into the glow. I have no body at all. Where my body should be, is the green light, sparkling with energy, glowing, potent. I have no eyes to see, but do not need them. I feel the energy, the tingling, an electrical sensation, in lieu of a body. I am one with this world, because this world is made up of pure "I." Pure Identity. I sense that strongly.

There is an associated aural sensation, not a sound but a sense of a sound, hard to describe. It seems like nonsense syllables, but I've heard them before in prior visits here. Something akin to "elektraglyzsendee" or parts of that, but that's not it, there is no real way to describe this. I've "heard" it many times, but it remains indescribable. When I sense the almost-sound of this nonsense phrase, I feel it in my core, it goes right through me, through all of this inner Green World, like a muted kind of teeth-on-tinfoil sensation. It seems to mean something, to be significant somehow, no idea how though.

Oh, another thing. Green World is always terrifying. I never knew why before, but I do now.

There is always terror upon arriving here. Primal Terror and strong deja-vu. In my early days, that was hard to overcome, but I've done this a few times before, even though it is difficult to recall specifics. I have a kind of experience, a 'feel' for it now.

So I feel the terror, tell myself it cannot harm me, embrace it, and it passes me by. Much better.

Why is this Green World terrifying? Good question, yet one I'd never been aware enough to able to ask myself while being here before. This time however I managed to ask myself that question while I was in a position to answer it. This time I was aware enough to ask it, and figure out the answer. I even managed to ask myself in the moment about the clarity of the answer I was receiving, and it was very clear indeed, like a clear memory.

The terror I feel when I come here is because of all the many times I'd come here previously when I'd just died.

Green World is terrifying because normally we only find ourselves here because we've just died.

Or rather, because one of our dreams of being alive has just ended.

Same thing.

It's like it's the Blank Slate we experience while on "layover."

This I clearly sensed as soon as I asked. Death and Life. The dead tarry here, in this deep realm, and the living also, but they are unaware of it, being focused on other things.

We are all here, all the time. Only our dreams differ. If you dream deeply enough to believe you're awake, you will not see or sense Green World, but here you are regardless. You can't leave it, because it *is* you. It is everything, and yet most of all, it is nothing.

In my prior visions, when I've seen green light, waves or currents of it, it came from this Green World, from this underlying strata of reality that intersects everything. This I sensed as well.

Green World is Identity, pure "I." It is not my personal identity, it is the identity that is the real structure of dreams, all dreams, including real-seeming ones like this life. It is pure mind, rendered visible. It is not our dream, for we do not dream it; it dreams us. It is not only the deepest core of my being, but also of yours, and everybody and everything.

Or so it seems to one person making deep-dives into his own mind, at any rate. No proof of course. Just very interesting to me, and who knows, perhaps to you as well.

The Tiny Torus Of The Self

EXPLORING THE CENTER POINT

Last night, seated meditation in bed.

Focusing on my inner self, my identity, attempting to perceive my consciousness with my consciousness, I went through a period in which all my surroundings became cartoon-like or dream-like, with no loss of detail. This has happened in the past, and indeed is fairly common.

As I settled into rhythmic breathing, I closed my eyes and went within myself, far within, seeking my own source. This is a fairly common meditation for me. In the past I've often gone so deep and so far that I perceived a tiny single point, the very center point of my being, what I think of as my "I AM" point because in order to see it I must free my mind of all concepts except my own basic sense of identity and pursue only that. Salvia is so powerful in this particular manner, it gives you what amounts to almost a super-power of concentration. With salvia I can narrow my focus to only one exclusive concept and simply not think of anything else, at will.

So there I am floating in the black void of my inner self, starred as always by the millions of tiny lights that I always see even when I'm in normal mind. The remains of my old childhood hallucinations, the leftovers of my old visions. I'm floating in this, this vast expanse of what looks like space but unlike space I can feel it as if it were part of my body. I sense the currents and swirls and movements of my "astral plane" for lack of a better term. I focus on my source, and let everything else fall away. It's effortless. I no longer know my own name, that I even have a name. I am a point, a floating viewpoint, in this vast cavern that is my own mind.

I sense something different, floating in front of me in this space. What can it be? It looks like a smoke ring, perhaps three-quarters of an inch in apparent diameter. A smoke ring floating in the space of my mind. I can feel it twisting there. I see it twisting in on itself constantly, as an actual smoke ring usually does. It's a floating torus, spinning not on its axis, but spinning around the center of the toroidal tube that makes up the ring itself.

I approach closer to it. Now it's right in front of me. I can feel it there, twisting in on itself there in front of me.

Then something really strange happened.

It seemed to suck me in, to suck in the floating viewpoint that was all I was in that space. I became one with the torus, and all of a sudden I was twisting and torquing within it as if it, were me.

I distinctly remember the feeling of being turned inside-out when it happened. It is an incredibly unusual feeling to cope with.

Then it happened again. I remember thinking "inside out and inside out and inside out and inside out..." many times as I experienced the chaos of being a twisting smoke ring, a torus of energy, feeling my entire being twisting itself inside-out over and over and over.

Eventually I decided to disengage with it and wake up to full consciousness, and did so. All I remember thinking at the time was, it was like I finally found the very center of my being, and it was a spinning torus of constant self-inversion, spinning smoke-ring-like in the quasi-darkness of the deepest recesses of my mind.

Overall, a very interesting experience, rather pleasant.

Another Kind Of Distance

Recently:

Sitting in silent meditation, 100X. I'm playing around with what feels like a field around my body, a field that I can feel as if it were a part of me. I move it to the left and to the right, feeling it move, feeling it like an extension of my will. Then suddenly I feel myself, sitting there, suddenly shrink down to microscopic proportions, and seep through the floor of the room into an identical but far smaller version of my room. So there I am, having just filtered down through the ceiling, sitting there, and it happened again. Once again I shrank down, seemed to filter through the bed and floor as if it were a permeable membrane, and wound up where I started, sitting on my bed in my room, wife asleep by my side. Then again, it happened. And again.

I seemed to shrink, again and again, and seep down through the material plane I was in and fall into a far smaller, identical one!

Of course, each new plane of reality, while immeasurably smaller than the preceding one, was completely normal to me once I entered it, because I was so much smaller too.

It's an amazing feeling, to feel your whole body shrink suddenly down to microbe size or less, over and over, four or five times. I never experienced that before.

So that was interesting.

This brings us to last night.

Once again, sitting on the bed cross-legged. Reality around me morphs into an extension of my head, seeming to be all a part of my head, or passing through my head. I see reality in a confused daze of reality-chunks, pieces of the surrounding room arranged seemingly at random around me, physically touching my eyes and head. One such chunk was the size of my whole cheek, touching my cheek, blended with it somehow. Confusing.

In this state of *blending* with my surroundings, a common state for me while meditating on salvia, I get the clearest sense of my reality not being outside my head and body at all, but instead all in my head, or rather all in my mind, *including* my head and body. Of it all being a mirage, a figment of my imagination, even down to my physical body.

As this state started to abate, and I became more aware and lucid, I could feel my body as usual in its seated position on the bed. I had not moved. My normal sense of kinesthesia returned, my body-sense became clear again. But what's this? I feel my body seated on the bed in my room, but I also feel many other bodies, many others of my body, all seated on the bed, all in *almost* the same identical posture but not quite. They all differ slightly, some very slightly. So once again, I sense a "cloud of me's" or many "me's" all seated in the same location.

I was sitting in one place, many times over. Not all identical sitting postures, but very similar. It should be noted that I could also clearly sense this, that all these bodies of mine were not in perfectly identical postures. I could "see" (in my mind) where others differed. One positioned slightly to the left, another with part of my right arm not in the same exact place, and so on. None differed greatly, but all differed at least slightly.

I have been in this state many times in the past. It's even rather comfortable for me now. This time was different though. This time I could also very clearly sense the distance between each of my bodies.

I could clearly feel the distance between my many bodies that were all sitting in the same physical location.

Think about that for a minute.

This sense of distance was incredibly clear. Think of holding your arms apart with your eyes closed. You can clearly sense the distance between your two hands, even if you cannot tell it's exact length in centimeters or inches. There's no mistake that your hands are well apart, you can clearly feel that even with your eyes shut.

This was the same degree of certainty.

So I'm sitting there in many, many bodies, all in the same almost identical physical location in my bedroom on my bed, but I'm sensing the distance between each body. It wasn't a long distance... perhaps a couple of feet. However, and this is key, this "distance" wasn't in my normal three-dimensional world. It was not a distance in any spatial direction that I had access to. In my normal 3-D world, this distance was in a "hidden" direction, as real as anything I could point to, but not really *in* my regular world. I could not point in the direction that I sensed the distance, for that direction did not exist.

It was another kind of distance, in a hidden direction. I could feel it so clearly; it was not to the left or to the right or up or down or to the front or the rear. It was a distance to "elsewhere" that had no direction.

This is not a concept that lends itself well to our languages, but I experienced, clear as day, the distance between the planes of my own multi-plane or multiversal existence.

And I did so with all the clarity that you're experiencing now, reading this.

This is why I love salvia divinorum.

Reality is Mathematics is Consciousness

Existence exists because it is impossible for mathematics not to exist.

Even in absolute nothingness lies the concept of mathematics.

Reality is this concept.

Mathematics *is* consciousness, brought into being by the very necessity of its existence even in the face of all else being gone.

Nothing actually exists anywhere. No thing is real.

The only reality is that which is brought into being by the necessity of the existence of mathematics even in absolute void.

We are the interplay of mathematics so complex and interwoven that it is the equivalent of what we think of as "thought."

Reality is therefore a dreamlike state of mathematical interplay and development, a dream. A true dream as unreal as any sleeping dream.

Here's the secret: We never are truly awake. We just believe that we are.

We just awaken to the point where our reality is familiar and is rational and logical and makes sense to us and has continuity with our previous experiences and meshes with other consciousnesses' dreams that we are associated with in the overall story we participate in that we call our life.

Reality, waking reality, is merely our most ordered dream which we all share.

We insist it not be magical, we insist it make sense. So it does.

If it failed to meet our definition of reality we would retreat in terror of existential crisis. So it doesn't.

Hence, it's a very realistic dream.

Precisely as realistic as is needed to convince each one of us individually, in fact. That is all it's needed to be.

We are mathematics, which turns out to be consciousness, which turns out to be as real as anything ever gets.

Our next moments in time are generated by the mathematics (the physics) of the previous ones, with all possible results being realized in it's own dimension, or perhaps more accurately, at its own frequency.

A mathematical multiverse.

I wonder if this will make sense tomorrow.

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Note: If this concept interests you, you might like to read THIS BOOK

"Our Mathematical Universe" by cosmologist Max Tegmark. Read the editorial reviews on the Amazon page linked above. Note the names of the reviewers. This concept, likely or not, is utterly credible. It just requires a paradigm shift.

I Am Made Of Information, And So Are You

Meditating in seated position, cross-legged on the bed. 100X as usual.

I feel the room around me and my sleeping wife and dog as all being inside my mind, in my head, not "out there" in any way. Even my head, is all in my mind. I sense many of me, many such rooms, splashes of me all over, dashes of me everywhere. I sense the room around me and my body as being part of the same thing, being one with everything else.

I've been getting this for a while now, all the time. Last night was the most clear, easiest to recall.

Then a subtle shift. The room, my body, my wife, the dog, all of these things are now seen as they really are, as thoughts, descriptions of themselves. I sense that we are all descriptions, stories if you will. We are all each collections of data, thoughts, and that is all we are. We exist within what can only be described as a *mind* but not like our minds, far vaster, containing all "things" within itself, all such collections of data that describe all things, in a sea of data describing our surroundings. Everything that exists, is thought, is data. I feel myself as words, descriptions, thought, data. Everything is like this, nothing is not like this.

I feel waves and ripples in that sea of thought, waves that move through my room and through my body. I feel the thought that comprises me, my personal collection of data that describes me as different than anything else, my "body" if you will, be penetrated by these waves; they flow through me, and the "stuff" that is me, "waves" and ripples along with them. I feel the substance of my body being not substance at all, nothing like a substance, everything both inside me and out is insubstantial.

It hits me; nothing truly exists as we believe it does. Only mind exists, only being, and within that mind we are collections of data, of thought. Basically, we are the sum of the thoughts that describe us.

My body does not exist, my wife does not exist, the world does not exist, except within our minds, which are within a vaster mind, much like programs in a database of some sort.

This mind we are a part of has always existed, it is the default setting of all reality, the most basic level of existence. Since it has always been, there was no single point where creation started.

So what is it about me, about this collection of data, that feels like a person, that feels like my self?

From what I can sense it is a part of us that is self-descriptive and self-referential both. I describe myself to myself and believe it, then I constantly reinforce my reality to myself in an unending descending spiral of self-affirmation and belief.

For some reason, belief is very important to existence. I often sense myself battling in deep meditation with my own ability to believe, adjusting it 'just so' much like one would adjust a radio dial. Too much belief, image is lost; just enough and you can see the story play out. Belief is more than we think it is. Far more important to existence than we know.

I've had unimaginable battles deep within myself trying to fine-tune my own belief so as to attain understanding of my own mind. Adjusting my belief in whatever it is I'm sensing, a little more here, a little less there, to be able to see it manifest to myself. What I sense about belief is that it underlies all reality, so then it can be said that a disbelief in such things as I seek to understand here, would absolutely prevent us ever even beginning to see it.

What I mean here is, yes, it's absolutely true: A disbeliever in these things can never see these things, but instead will see whatever it is they believe they will see.

A scientist would accuse me of hedging. No. I truly sense that in order to sense what reality actually *is,* one must first believe that whatever it *is,* is at least possible. Why have I seen the infinitely malleable, deceptive, belief-dependent nature of reality? Because I believed it to be possible that reality is like that. Why do I think it might be true? Because unlike all other options, this option explains all others as well as itself. If I tried believing in such a thing and it manifested itself to me as it did, then it also explains all other options, all other possible manifestations of reality, from science to god, for such a reality is infinitely *deceptive* in nature.

It explains Maya, which has so effectively deceived us all.

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NOTE: *THIS* has just come to my attention. It relates.