Altered states of mind (Pt. 1)

I just watered the flowers and newly-planted shrubs at my brother’s house here on the beach a little while ago since it’s been terribly dry with no rain in recent memory. The wind off the ocean is strong, but not as much as yesterday. It’s high tide again, but there’s a bit more beach to walk on. It’s nice to sit out here again on the third day of my vacation, listening to the ocean, buffeted by winds. Thoughts of work are light years away in some other realm of consciousness. I don’t even want to think about it.

I’m in a no-man’s land state of mind. A bit numb. Peaceful, but sort of lost and indifferent to everything just now. I’m just thinking about things as I write.

But life marches on. I see more clearly than ever the aging and advance of infirmity among family members I’m closest to. What troubles age inflicts on these clay vessels we inhabit, tough and resilient as they are. My aunt’s recent fall and subsequent hospitalization brought me ever closer to the presence of sickness, injury, the helplessness of being in hospitals, and unwilling confrontation with the fact that life has to end.

But I’m not emotional about it. I can even take it at face value, brave soul that I am. Ha! I only have each day that is given to me. I can do what I want for that day. For now. Hospitals slap you upside the head and take away any illusions about this seemingly endless physical life on Earth.

However, life goes on around me everywhere I turn. The throbbing, churning activity-obsessed culture we’re part of, heedless of time, is busy consuming it in big restless, agitated gulps. No place for the aged, sick and infirm on the busy, traffic-filled, streaming urban arteries that carry me along to my destinations. Busy, busy. Places to go. Things to do. Planes to catch. Products to buy. Work to do. One thing after another to stave off the void. We look askance at elderly drivers poking along in this madness, turning off the highway with glacial indifference to the speeding cars heading their way in the other lane, avoiding destruction, just barely. Life goes on. A time capsule shooting through space.

Last night late, after midnight, I was staring at the computer as usual, but I also happened to look up at my favorite framed photograph on the wall directly in front of me. I took it in northwest Oregon almost eight years ago. It’s a picture of a quiet stream flowing imperceptibly over large and small rocks and boulders through a forest of red alders and firs. The alders are the understory trees and arch over the stream in a most beautiful way.

But a very curious thing occurred, and it was magical it was so strange (or maybe it was the lighting and the late night hour). I kept staring at that scene, so sharp and clear, and looking deep into the grove of alders and I noticed how, as if I had never seen it this way before, the two-dimensional scene was inexplicably transformed into a three-dimensional one. I could hardly believe my eyes, but I could see into that setting as if it was totally lifelike and real. It only lasted a few minutes, but I was startled and happy.

I hadn’t been imbibing any reality-altering substance — never do — but my senses were definitely making illusions for me to enjoy. It was strangely exciting for someone so grounded in *ordinary* reality as myself.

This morning I looked at the photograph again, and it was its normal, two-dimensional self, a beautiful picture and one I never tire of looking at, but devoid of the depth and startling realness of the night before.

(Continued)

sometimes i wish i could be in the picture… that somehow i was transported there…forever immortalized in paints and canvas…at peace

eastern philosophies have explanations for this, but i am only a student so won’t try to analyze it. I do know that with the right state of consciousness, you can call the dimensions back. The mind is the most creative when allowed to use its own power. Perhaps a reader with more knowledge will explain this.

adrift

August 19, 2001

Yes, I have felt this before, dear friend ~ a sense of no longer standing outside your environment, but becoming a part of it. The first time it happened, it was a bit alarming for a conservative, sober, middle-aged woman. *smile* Now, I believe it is the awareness we feel by being completely present in the moment ~ Incredible, isn’t it? 🙂

I can relate well to the empathy you feel for your ailing relatives. How caught up we get in our daily routines while others are so far removed from such activities. I wrote a poem for my friend that recently passed away~

See the sun still rises in the morningAnd birds flock to greet the dayThe newsboy delivers the evening’s paperBut you’ve gone awaySearching for sleep’s gentle reprieveMournful memories block the wayAll the world is vastly differentExcept in the light of day~

The cycle of life goes on ~ a truth that is both upsetting & reassuring. Like the promise of a rainbow, life continues. Tears that fall so freely now will turn to tears of sweet remembrance. Once again, the sounds of joy & laughter will echo in the light of day & the earth will replenish itself as the sun shines upon yesterday’s sorrows~

That experience with the photo is wonderful! Thanks for your kind comments in my diary; I always appreciate a note from you. And, as I think everyone knows, I really know how nursing homes and hospitals and seeing the ravages of age can sorrow and drain a person.

“…part of the law of ebb and flow that science may trace in all things; thus light grew the forest of coal, and the coal gives back light; thus rivers fill the sea, and the sea sends back to the rivers; thus all things give that receive, even Death.” – From The King of Elfland’s Daughter – makes me wonder what, exactly, Lord Dunsany figured out for himself when he wrote that.

All that lives, dies. Often, I contemplate if its opposite holds equally true – as most true truths do. Time is a friend, but an enemy as well. It teaches us what to value then takes back what has become so dear – or is it in that we, the receivers” must, one day, give it back?

I also have had this happen with a photograph…but not very often.

It’s a shame what we do in our “sivilized world” with elder people – stove them away so that we do not see them, so that we can go on with our lives. I know you are a good son to your mother!!

Oswego, the mind has the most amazing ability to add or reduce what we want to see. I think it becomes almost an act of self-hypnosis when we stare at something long enough that it seems to assume a depth not there in reality. It is no wonder that many believe that if it could be harnassed, we could be capable of telekensis. A reflective and thoughtful entry, my friend.

Recently I’ve been studying up on these interdimensional experiences we have from time to time. I’m intrigued that your experience of it was as literal as seeing a third dimension. I’m probably not making much sense but it’s quite significant to me. These strange things have happened to me all my life and it’s interesting that someone that describes himself as “so grounded in ordinary reality”

should experience it as such a clear symbol of what it actually is. As I say, that probably doesn’t make any sense. I don’t have words to describe what I’m trying to say, but lights and bells are going off. 🙂

Bramble

August 27, 2001

Your writings go directly to my inner eye which perfectly visualizes all that you see.

I’m sorry about your aunt’s fall. Hospitals can be very strange and unpleasant places. I hate them. Here’s hoping you don’t have to spend time in or around them for the foreseeable future.

Edelweis

August 30, 2002

I know that we use only half or one third of our mind, so I think it will take much more time to find out everything about its abilities. I enjoyed this entry very much because, as always, it gives me so much to think of. Have a very nice weekend, take care and be well,