Back to "Guided Expriences"

Suggestions:

While this Guided Experience can be done by oneself, it strongly recommended that, initially, one works with this Guided Experience with an orientor and with others in the context of a Formative Meeting of Ang Kommunidad (The Community).

Before proceeding with this experience, one must be in a state of complete physical, internal and mental relax (see associated materials).

A reader reads the following for the others, in a calm and neutral voice, pausing for several seconds where an asterisk (*) is indicated.If no one volunteers to read, an .mp3 file may be launched by selecting radio button below. It will launch your computer's native media player and playback the Guided Experience. Adequate speakers or audio monitors must be connected to the computer for everyone to hear this well.

The Voyage*

I’m climbing along a mountain path, and stop briefly to look behind me. In the distance I see the thin line of a river and what could be a grove of trees. Farther off, the reddish desert disappears into the haze of the late afternoon.

I walk a few more steps, and the path narrows until it disappears. I know that I still have the last and most difficult stretch ahead of me before I reach the plateau on top. The snow on the ground scarcely hinders my steps, and I continue my ascent.

I come to a rock wall. Studying it carefully, I discover a large crevice that I think I can climb. I begin to climb it, wedging my hiking boots into the footholds. Pressing my back against one side, I lever myself up with one elbow and my other arm. Slowly I inch higher.

Now the crevice has narrowed. I look up and I look down. I’ve reached an impasse—it’s impossible to move in either direction.

I shift my position, flattening myself against the slippery rock face. Planting both feet firmly, I slowly stretch one arm upward. I can feel my moist breath reflecting from the smooth rock. I keep groping with my fingers, not knowing whether I’ll find some small handhold. Gingerly I stretch out my other arm. Suddenly I feel myself swaying, and my head falls slowly away from the rock. My whole body follows, until I’m on the verge of falling backwards—but at the last second, I find a tiny crack and grasp it tightly with my fingers. Recovering my balance I continue the ascent, making the final assault on the top without difficulty.

At last I reach the plateau. I stand up, and an endless prairie stretches before me. Taking a few steps forward I turn around. Toward the abyss it is already night. Toward the plain the last rays of the sun escape in varied hues. As I compare these two spaces, suddenly I hear a piercing sound. Looking up, I see a luminous disk hovering high overhead. Circling around, it begins to descend.

The disk lands close by. Moved by some inner call, I approach it without hesitation. As I enter the luminous object, it feels as if I’m passing through a curtain of warm air. I find myself inside a transparent bubble that’s flattened on its base, and immediately my body feels lighter.

As though propelled by a giant slingshot, we shoot straight upward into the sky. I think we’re heading toward the star Beta Hydris, or perhaps the galaxy NGC 3621.

Fleetingly I see the late afternoon light on the prairie below. We climb at great speed as the sky turns black and the Earth slips away.

I can feel our velocity steadily increasing, and the clear white light of the stars changes color until all the stars have disappeared in total darkness.

Directly ahead I see a single point of golden light, which steadily grows larger. As we approach, I see it is a vast ring that continues into a very long transparent tube. We enter the tube, and after a while come to a sudden stop, landing in an open area. Passing through the curtain of warm air, I leave the bubble.

I find myself between transparent walls, which shimmer in musical variations of color as I pass through them.

I walk onward until I come to a flat area. In the center I see a large object, alive with movement, and impossible to capture with my eye as it flows endlessly into itself; regardless of which direction I look on its surface, my gaze always ends up immersed, drawn deep into the object’s interior. Feeling dizzy, I look away.

Now I encounter a figure, apparently human, whose face I cannot see. This being extends a hand toward me, in which I see a radiant sphere. I begin to approach, and in an act of complete acceptance, I take the sphere and place it on my forehead. (*)

In total silence I feel something new coming to life within me. A growing force bathes my body in successive waves as a profound joy fills my being. (*)

Somehow I know that even without words this figure is speaking to me, saying, “Return to the world with your forehead and your hands luminous.” (*)

And so I accept my destiny, returning to the bubble, and through the vast ring to the stars, and the prairie, and the rock wall below. (*)

Finally I am back on the mountain path, a humble pilgrim returning to my people. (*)

Filled with light, I return to the hours, to the daily routine, to the pain of humanity, and to its simple joys.

I, who give with my hands what I can, who receive both insults and the warmest of greetings, sing to the heart, which from the darkest abyss is reborn in the light of Meaning.

 

 - END -

• Participants discuss their experiences.

*Note on this Experience:

The rapid motion of the bubble recalls the journey so splendidly recounted by Olaf Stapledon in Star Maker.

We also find a reference to the Doppler effect, in which the color of the stars changes with increasing velocity: “I feel our velocity increasing, and the clear white light of the stars changes color until all the stars have disappeared in total darkness.”

Here we encounter a curious consideration: “As if propelled by a giant slingshot, we shoot straight upward into the sky. I think we’re heading toward the star Beta Hydris or perhaps the galaxy NGC 3621.” We clearly understand in this context that the bubble ascends straight upward. Why, then, are these cosmic directions noted? Since the sun is setting at the moment being described (“Toward the abyss it is already night. Toward the plain the last rays of the sun escape in multiple hues”), this is sufficient to tell us the local time at which the event takes place.

This book was written in mid-1980 (that is, around June 30), at longitude 69° west and latitude 33° south; for this date and location, the local time at sunset was 7:00 p.m. (four hours behind Greenwich Mean Time). At sunset, at elevation 90° (the point directly over the bubble toward which it is heading), we would see a sky between the southern constellations Crux and Corvus and near Antlia in which several celestial bodies could easily be discerned. Among these, the most outstanding would be the star Beta Hydris and the galaxy NGC 3621.

However the author does not specify which of these celestial bodies the bubble is heading toward, although Beta Hydris is at azimuth 12528’ west, elevation 87 35’, right ascension 11h 52m 0s, and declination -34 23’, while NGC 3621 is at 9208’ west, elevation 80 43’, 11h 17m 3s, and -3252’. To be precise, the direction of the bubble would actually be closer to Beta Hydris (number 103.192 in the Draper catalog, magnitude 4.3, spectral class B9, variable, 326 light years distant), whereas NGC 3621 (a spiral galaxy some 16 million light years away) would be rather more to one side. Perhaps the author’s hesitation in deciding on Beta Hydris lay in the fact that the galaxy NGC 3621 is the more beautiful celestial body, so why not choose it as a destination instead? Among all the oddities that appear in these guided experiences, such astronomical license should not be too ill-received.

Regarding the body in motion, the guided experience reads as follows:

I walk onward until I come to a flat area. In the center I see a large object, alive with movement, and impossible to capture with my eye as it flows endlessly into itself; regardless of which direction I look on its surface my gaze always ends up immersed, drawn deep into the object’s interior. Feeling dizzy, I look away.

Clearly this description alludes to those topological constructions of modern geometry that are represented or modeled as “enveloping” objects that flow into themselves. By putting this kind of object into motion, the author produces a disconcerting effect. Remembering Escher’s woodcut engraving of a Möbius strip helps us approach the central idea: Escher’s work, though static, gives the sensation of paradoxical surface and perception. Hofstader, in Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, explains:

Implicit in the concept of Strange Loops is the concept of infinity, since what else is a loop but a way of representing an endless process in a finite way? And infinity plays a large role in many of Escher’s drawings. Copies of one single theme often fit into each other, forming visual analogues to the canons of Bach.

According to this, the object that appears in this guided experience is an endless loop “flowing into itself.”