I think I have come up with an apt analogy for my first breakthrough, if indeed it was one (trip report in nursery "first steps":

Imagine the utter terror experienced by a newborn: jettisoned from the womb, umbilical cord clipped, drawing in its first gulp of air and opening its eyes to the hostile light of the world for the first time; oxygen flooding virgin lungs, a whole cardiopulmonary system shocked into action, those little orbs set in a tiny skull that have never seen more than the dim red glow of placenta being opened to a universe of reflection and refraction, shards of light bounding around in a seeming assault, a barrage of alien colour and intensity; and the sounds - never such cacophony, billowing around the small cartilaginous shells that heretofore have heard no more than the dull distant thud of their mother's heart, now subjected to screeching frequencies unimaginable...

I have to think of my experience as a birth for it to make sense. Something that will soften to some level of comprehension, or at the very least diminished violence, in subsequent trips, like the newborn slowly adapting to a novel, strange reality...

And the death of my old self, the precious illusion (if it indeed be one) of my old mind, the shedding, the passing on, the evolving... For every birth requires a death, and every demise, a blossom.

I hope that strikes a cord with someone.

Anyone ever notice that maya, pronounced in reverse, is a phonetic analogue of I am?

JBArk

:arrow:


Awesome! One more piece of the puzzle floats into place.....Propers!
I too know the feeling of rebirth, truly spice is the variety of life. Every time, my old self dies and the new ego-LESS (not more) (and not totally absent) mind becomes conscious of itself and the the monkey mind. I find myself asking more questions about myself now. "Why is my monkey feeling this way?" "Why is my monkey mad at this such and such?" "Why do I let natural cycles of life and death make me so sad?"
I can kind of identify emotions and put them into context, something which america is brainwiped into thinking is wrong. A man should not meet his feelings in this hollow plastic culture.

When I am angry, I try to let it wash over me, like the ocean of neurotransmitters that it only is.... My thoughts are just sand on the beach, and "outer space" is just a way of us visualizing our un-explored inner space; once we fully realize that our minds have infinity hidden in the darkest, farthest corner, we will talk to aliens that day.
luv n respekt

Yeah, the birth thing is really the only way i can reconcile myself to that particular experience, and fills me with hope that subsequent experiences will be less violent. At least some, i trust. Changa here i come!

JBArk

remapped : i prefer this reworking of the line from that old poem:

life is the variety of spice!

cheers,
JBArk

Great report!!!
The rebirth/death resonates with me as well. The molecule seems to have waken me from a cultural sleep. I am born anew from a compliant mundane existence into a rich interconnected world where I can see our culture for what it is. Now we need to decide how we play the game "life/death" with this deep understanding that the material world holds nothing to that of the inner world within each and every one of us. The secret is getting out there. Figuring out what to do with this information is difficult but gets a bit easier with time and travel...

That's what it's all about. Is spice maybe form of mortality training - death bootcamp?

JBArk