Once I dreamed that I died.
I was lying in a hospital and I was thinking, with that feeling on top that those who know they are at the end of their life should have, what is that of dying... I found it fantastic and terrifyingly curious. "What's that about dying?", "Will there be anything else?". I was thinking about the possibility of continuity, of a life after death, but at the same time I was wondering "what if everything, EVERYTHING, ended here?".
I remember there were people moving and that there were voices in that dream, maybe doctors? I do not remember if I was on the floor or on a stretcher, I do remember that I was a stretcher, or lying on the floor, looking up. I was realizing that in a few seconds I was going to die. I really found it curious to perceive the end, that things from a point were not going to be equal to everything previously known in a life and that there was a possibility that they no longer existed. That "non-equality" (from here to there, "this", and from "this" to there, all different) was curious and frightening to me, the feeling that everything I was until that day was going to end, of One way or another, it made me fear, expectation, intrigue and emptiness, all in a "round trip" format inside me.
In five seconds I would die ...
Two seconds. I'm going to die? Am I going to "transfer"? Am i going to finish? Will I still be myself?
Until, no doubt, in this dream I died. Then I perceived consciousness in a residual way, that is, as knowing that these last waves, these last vibrations in the particular way in which one did it every day, were precisely the last. I perceived that this way of accessing a consciousness was the last.
From one moment to the next everything went black around me, it was like closing my eyes and seeing traces of light; Being this darkness different from other obscurities that I experienced, I realized however that it had a kind of texture. It seemed that it was I - this entity in its last moment of connection - that felt a shifting darkness, like water in a swamp, but made of air and cotton. After a while, I perceived that I was not the only thing in motion.
I felt a directional movement that accompanied that darkness that surrounded me. This entity, this witness, was moving. I was moving. I was moving up and forward (I am sure that the feeling of moving was neither backward nor downward, most certainly). I didn't feel the body and yet I felt the existence at eye level. I felt the existence at the height of my eyes. I found it curious to remember that today and it was like that.
I accepted the moment as thinking that this was what happened to the living since the beginning of time. "I can't worry about what is next. This is so," I thought. And I let go for a moment. I mean, I let go. And for a moment.
I remember feeling going up and forward, but I also perceived that I was not moving through this world. Another surface? It was going up and forward going through something, dimensions ?, stripes? I felt that I was surfing strips, hollow, through the texture of a reality. I don't know what "dimensions", I couldn't see anything. I know that it was going through an immensity, a distance far from what I knew, with the peculiarity that this transit was "scraped" by layers that I perceived as dimensions. It really seemed that I was going to another place, that I was moving, but it was not space that I left behind, nor what was in front of me (trying to explain it sounds incoherent, but it was more or less like that). I felt this (it was not standard thinking): "it is another order of things". Other order. And I understand that expression very well. There is an order of things when one is distressed and a different one when one is totally calm. One dimension and another dimension. Other order.
And the light came. Someone turned it on, lit itself, or the place had a light on. The first thing I remember from that moment is to go from the bottom up. I felt the light in front of me. When I realized that "there was light", I perceived that there was a separation: I was in the dark part going towards the light and that "from here to there there was darkness and that from there to this side there was light". In this section of the experience I did not make value judgments associating darkness with ignorance and something bad, nor light with knowledge and something good, simply here it was dark and beyond there was light.
That light was not a single light, there were several. There were many lights, some larger, some smaller, in a background of light. They distinguished themselves for some reason, although I don't know why they distinguished themselves. Paying more attention, I saw that this was a great field of light and lights, like a great cornfield. It was immense. I don't remember feeling infinity or "eternity." I do remember having perceived immensity (I know that because I once had a 'stop of inspiration and sigh' and one day while walking "I felt the immensity", and although this feeling was not exactly the same as that, the access and intuition of something big leaves a taste in my mouth *, metaphorically speaking. In this edition of 03/05/2019 I know that day I had a "perception" or sparkle).
I was no longer me. My accesses to a consciousness were not the same as on earth while I was commonly alive. Somehow I realized things in this field of light, but there was no nervous system, no brain, and although it was very rare, there was no thought either.
Regarding the latter, I remember that once lying at home a few years ago, in a state of meditation or drunkenness (one never knows ...), I entered what appeared to be a mental state of "non-ordinary reality", having several "awareness" (1) without the help of thought. I found it extremely surprising to realize the "reality" without that content leaking under thought. I saw that my consciousness was moving through the textures of the surrounding and that I had small views of precision, but without thinking! There was no verbal thought. In this state I asked myself "what is it about being aware without using thought?" Of course, I did not have or have answers but I understood that there is more than thinking ("more", not in the sense of addition but there are other viable ways, perhaps parallel or not, other ways to have contact with the world. Probably , I had, as an adult, a "pure" perception of a baby, something that ceases to be once one learns to speak and "thinks" through that speech, apparently).
In front of me, on my right and on my left, I saw walls of light as far as my limited perception came. I came to that field from below and, apparently, I also rose a little above that field and then went down and placed in the middle of it. These movements were always forward. I didn't do it voluntarily, that which realized things (that is, something that seemed to be me) moved by itself. I remember that I perceived that the movement "was given to me," like when someone hammocks you. I felt that something, or someone, mobilized me. And between what I felt at that moment I had the precision that I was guided. I moved without will, I was not obliged to go to any particular place but that thrust had direction, an order, a taste, which told me that I had to go step by step. The feeling was that I was guided and that, not knowing what to do there, I was invited with the movement to find out (the latter also had a kind of delight, grace, color, flavor, edge). From those moments, I felt that while I was being guided, while "advancing", I left ignorance behind (it was all knowledge or everything was to find out about things, the wheels, the turn, the gears). Whether he looked up, down or sideways, all that was a movement in that place was to leave the darkness of ignorance behind. I had the feeling that every moment traveled was more light. That kind of knowledge was not structured in a psychology as we do here (apparently). That knowledge was totally different (eye, it was not some kind of Nirvana or Krishnamurtian enlightenment) either. It is very difficult to explain.
The field had walls of light (like office panels) and I remember perfectly (perfectly) that those walls were located diagonally. A wall of light behind another, then, a strip in the middle similar to a corridor and again diagonal walls of light, some separated from each other, almost infinitely, both forward along that corridor, and sideways, For those panels. Looking from above to that field (which I mention again it resembled a cornfield, but of light, with those strips of land in the middle) everything was so as far as my vision came: light and more light, hallways of differential light and light and more light. Guided, or by inertia or whatever, I went down to a hall. Going down that particular corridor seemed odd; I felt recklessness, the delight of adventure, I felt the "fear of the unknown", and again a feeling of having left the known behind, the existence and that now it was all new, all totally different. Faced with that fear, I let go again and felt relief. And here something impressive happened to me: from this moment I felt a clear guide, I had a differentiated feeling that I was really guided, I felt accompanied, and, if there was any kind of loneliness until those moments, I stopped feeling alone again. This happened just when I went down the hall, the non-loneliness, the company of an individuality that watched over me. Individuality or the existence of something else around me, something bigger than me.
And, apparently, I really wasn't alone.
In that field of light there were other lights that were like me, or that were configured like me: they had or had had darkness and ignorance, they were ceasing to have it, they didn't know what was coming and they were quite intrigued and disoriented. I remember the feeling as if we were all tourists coinciding in an elevator or in a corner of a museum, that required to go to a specific place, that they didn't know how to get anywhere, that they didn't know how they got there, that we had disorientation and we were about to find out something. That coincidence, that feeling that we were all about to find out immediately what it was, the awareness of the inevitable, I found it delicious, pleasant, made me feel that there was no loneliness, "that we are all in it", in that immense corner.
I want to underline the perception, without equal, that I had that everyone there, "immediately", was going to leave ignorance. The passage from one state to another was always curious, from liquid to solid, from a baby in the belly to the outside, from anguish to non-anguish. The moments before everything changes and being involved in the change ... I was always curious and I also understood it at that time. In the same way that before I had felt and thought that "in two seconds I would die", here I was certain that in a few seconds, in no time, I would leave ignorance and blindness behind.
When I went down to that particular corridor, I felt a little scared, as if it was taking a risk, then, just the next moment, I felt somewhat relieved, accompanied and guided. Something (or someone) moved me down the hall and that's when I noticed the other lights, which were like me, that I told above. As I moved through that corridor of light, I saw those panels of light as well, that I was passing them "one by one". There I saw infinite situations, as if there were hundreds of television screens on each panel with images of things that happen and happen. I saw circumstances of existence, hundreds of things (people?) That moved, that existed, that came and went, all that until the next panel of light, where intuition and perception were to be seeing something similarly similar, These representations were different from the previous panel. I thought or perceived: "so much variety! So many different things, so many coincidences in the same existence"; I had the feeling that everything was different within the same group of things, that those situations and what, apparently, were people, looked like colorful balls coexisting is a jar, next to thousands of other bottles. I felt (and perhaps I saw myself reflected) the smallness of a person, the smallness of a sentient being making use of his senses. To feel, within a life, it was something small (without taking away the importance that it should have) that was located within something totally and definitely bigger, than everything else, outside of that feeling, was much larger than that connected cable . I think I had the perception that the human being is a tiny bundle of nerves, lost, like a grain of sand in a galaxy.
Then, I felt alone again and disoriented (I came and went with that feeling). I looked to my left and saw an "individual" light that apparently was someone like me, with the same disorientation. What I will put now is not what happened there, but the feeling is very similar: I saw the eyes of that other light and felt, like two people who coincide on a ledge, a kind of solid desolation in front of something without any possibility of being able to rewind, in front of something that was going to take its course, yes or yes, inexorably, regardless of the quality of the spiritual tantrum that could be done. I saw that disorientation in that light and instantly a kind of smile, of acceptance, and I thought at that moment (or I realized) that his acceptance was mine, both of us on the ledge were about to jump into knowledge, without possibilities to change the course of the situation, of the facts, of the current. With that smile and acceptance of that light that, in my opinion, was someone like me, came a relief and again a feeling of being guided. [Subsequently, a similar scene from James Cameron's Titanic movie came to mind (although without the smile of the character looking at Jack or Rose), just when the ship is split in two and half is positioned vertically , and the actors look at each other, while they know that half, to which they are climbed, will inevitably sink.]
I looked up those light panels, placed side by side diagonally, all forming a corridor by section, and observed another distinct light that stood out. The light above those panels, from the view of that corridor, was like the light of a reflector colliding with the base of a wall, similar to how an artistically illuminated historical monument or building would be observed (image above an internally illuminated museum to graph). That light, which instantly felt like I was my guide, left me kindness (as if I had put kindness inside of me). Again my vision was for those light panels and the hundreds of different situations that I could see, now with that feeling that the light above the panels guided me. I also noticed that in the other corridors, above the other panels, in the other sections at my sides, there were other lights that were guiding other lights like me. I felt relief, I felt that everything was knowledge and that I did not "think" or access the consciousness of the states around me in the same way before "dying." I savored the exquisite plot and disposition of that particularity. As if the pollen of that reality entered through another conduit. I had that precision again. I knew with that light that I had to go down the hall. The custom gave birth to a small resistance stop, but I immediately let go again, waiting for that particular corridor, parallel to so many hundreds of other aisles.
Suddenly, I sensed that I was going to take an additional step. What would follow was that I was going to access the culmination, that I was going to finally settle at the base, that what I was was going to be left behind, to never come back, and nothing, absolutely nothing, from this point, it was going to be the same: that nostalgia was going to end forever.
And I woke up.
 |
| These solar panels resemble my dream. By 3444753. pixabay.com |
I was lying in a hospital and I was thinking, with that feeling on top that those who know they are at the end of their life should have, what is that of dying... I found it fantastic and terrifyingly curious. "What's that about dying?", "Will there be anything else?". I was thinking about the possibility of continuity, of a life after death, but at the same time I was wondering "what if everything, EVERYTHING, ended here?".
I remember there were people moving and that there were voices in that dream, maybe doctors? I do not remember if I was on the floor or on a stretcher, I do remember that I was a stretcher, or lying on the floor, looking up. I was realizing that in a few seconds I was going to die. I really found it curious to perceive the end, that things from a point were not going to be equal to everything previously known in a life and that there was a possibility that they no longer existed. That "non-equality" (from here to there, "this", and from "this" to there, all different) was curious and frightening to me, the feeling that everything I was until that day was going to end, of One way or another, it made me fear, expectation, intrigue and emptiness, all in a "round trip" format inside me.
In five seconds I would die ...
Two seconds. I'm going to die? Am I going to "transfer"? Am i going to finish? Will I still be myself?
Until, no doubt, in this dream I died. Then I perceived consciousness in a residual way, that is, as knowing that these last waves, these last vibrations in the particular way in which one did it every day, were precisely the last. I perceived that this way of accessing a consciousness was the last.
From one moment to the next everything went black around me, it was like closing my eyes and seeing traces of light; Being this darkness different from other obscurities that I experienced, I realized however that it had a kind of texture. It seemed that it was I - this entity in its last moment of connection - that felt a shifting darkness, like water in a swamp, but made of air and cotton. After a while, I perceived that I was not the only thing in motion.
I felt a directional movement that accompanied that darkness that surrounded me. This entity, this witness, was moving. I was moving. I was moving up and forward (I am sure that the feeling of moving was neither backward nor downward, most certainly). I didn't feel the body and yet I felt the existence at eye level. I felt the existence at the height of my eyes. I found it curious to remember that today and it was like that.
I accepted the moment as thinking that this was what happened to the living since the beginning of time. "I can't worry about what is next. This is so," I thought. And I let go for a moment. I mean, I let go. And for a moment.
I remember feeling going up and forward, but I also perceived that I was not moving through this world. Another surface? It was going up and forward going through something, dimensions ?, stripes? I felt that I was surfing strips, hollow, through the texture of a reality. I don't know what "dimensions", I couldn't see anything. I know that it was going through an immensity, a distance far from what I knew, with the peculiarity that this transit was "scraped" by layers that I perceived as dimensions. It really seemed that I was going to another place, that I was moving, but it was not space that I left behind, nor what was in front of me (trying to explain it sounds incoherent, but it was more or less like that). I felt this (it was not standard thinking): "it is another order of things". Other order. And I understand that expression very well. There is an order of things when one is distressed and a different one when one is totally calm. One dimension and another dimension. Other order.
And the light came. Someone turned it on, lit itself, or the place had a light on. The first thing I remember from that moment is to go from the bottom up. I felt the light in front of me. When I realized that "there was light", I perceived that there was a separation: I was in the dark part going towards the light and that "from here to there there was darkness and that from there to this side there was light". In this section of the experience I did not make value judgments associating darkness with ignorance and something bad, nor light with knowledge and something good, simply here it was dark and beyond there was light.
That light was not a single light, there were several. There were many lights, some larger, some smaller, in a background of light. They distinguished themselves for some reason, although I don't know why they distinguished themselves. Paying more attention, I saw that this was a great field of light and lights, like a great cornfield. It was immense. I don't remember feeling infinity or "eternity." I do remember having perceived immensity (I know that because I once had a 'stop of inspiration and sigh' and one day while walking "I felt the immensity", and although this feeling was not exactly the same as that, the access and intuition of something big leaves a taste in my mouth *, metaphorically speaking. In this edition of 03/05/2019 I know that day I had a "perception" or sparkle).
I was no longer me. My accesses to a consciousness were not the same as on earth while I was commonly alive. Somehow I realized things in this field of light, but there was no nervous system, no brain, and although it was very rare, there was no thought either.
Regarding the latter, I remember that once lying at home a few years ago, in a state of meditation or drunkenness (one never knows ...), I entered what appeared to be a mental state of "non-ordinary reality", having several "awareness" (1) without the help of thought. I found it extremely surprising to realize the "reality" without that content leaking under thought. I saw that my consciousness was moving through the textures of the surrounding and that I had small views of precision, but without thinking! There was no verbal thought. In this state I asked myself "what is it about being aware without using thought?" Of course, I did not have or have answers but I understood that there is more than thinking ("more", not in the sense of addition but there are other viable ways, perhaps parallel or not, other ways to have contact with the world. Probably , I had, as an adult, a "pure" perception of a baby, something that ceases to be once one learns to speak and "thinks" through that speech, apparently).
In front of me, on my right and on my left, I saw walls of light as far as my limited perception came. I came to that field from below and, apparently, I also rose a little above that field and then went down and placed in the middle of it. These movements were always forward. I didn't do it voluntarily, that which realized things (that is, something that seemed to be me) moved by itself. I remember that I perceived that the movement "was given to me," like when someone hammocks you. I felt that something, or someone, mobilized me. And between what I felt at that moment I had the precision that I was guided. I moved without will, I was not obliged to go to any particular place but that thrust had direction, an order, a taste, which told me that I had to go step by step. The feeling was that I was guided and that, not knowing what to do there, I was invited with the movement to find out (the latter also had a kind of delight, grace, color, flavor, edge). From those moments, I felt that while I was being guided, while "advancing", I left ignorance behind (it was all knowledge or everything was to find out about things, the wheels, the turn, the gears). Whether he looked up, down or sideways, all that was a movement in that place was to leave the darkness of ignorance behind. I had the feeling that every moment traveled was more light. That kind of knowledge was not structured in a psychology as we do here (apparently). That knowledge was totally different (eye, it was not some kind of Nirvana or Krishnamurtian enlightenment) either. It is very difficult to explain.
The field had walls of light (like office panels) and I remember perfectly (perfectly) that those walls were located diagonally. A wall of light behind another, then, a strip in the middle similar to a corridor and again diagonal walls of light, some separated from each other, almost infinitely, both forward along that corridor, and sideways, For those panels. Looking from above to that field (which I mention again it resembled a cornfield, but of light, with those strips of land in the middle) everything was so as far as my vision came: light and more light, hallways of differential light and light and more light. Guided, or by inertia or whatever, I went down to a hall. Going down that particular corridor seemed odd; I felt recklessness, the delight of adventure, I felt the "fear of the unknown", and again a feeling of having left the known behind, the existence and that now it was all new, all totally different. Faced with that fear, I let go again and felt relief. And here something impressive happened to me: from this moment I felt a clear guide, I had a differentiated feeling that I was really guided, I felt accompanied, and, if there was any kind of loneliness until those moments, I stopped feeling alone again. This happened just when I went down the hall, the non-loneliness, the company of an individuality that watched over me. Individuality or the existence of something else around me, something bigger than me.
And, apparently, I really wasn't alone.
In that field of light there were other lights that were like me, or that were configured like me: they had or had had darkness and ignorance, they were ceasing to have it, they didn't know what was coming and they were quite intrigued and disoriented. I remember the feeling as if we were all tourists coinciding in an elevator or in a corner of a museum, that required to go to a specific place, that they didn't know how to get anywhere, that they didn't know how they got there, that we had disorientation and we were about to find out something. That coincidence, that feeling that we were all about to find out immediately what it was, the awareness of the inevitable, I found it delicious, pleasant, made me feel that there was no loneliness, "that we are all in it", in that immense corner.
I want to underline the perception, without equal, that I had that everyone there, "immediately", was going to leave ignorance. The passage from one state to another was always curious, from liquid to solid, from a baby in the belly to the outside, from anguish to non-anguish. The moments before everything changes and being involved in the change ... I was always curious and I also understood it at that time. In the same way that before I had felt and thought that "in two seconds I would die", here I was certain that in a few seconds, in no time, I would leave ignorance and blindness behind.
When I went down to that particular corridor, I felt a little scared, as if it was taking a risk, then, just the next moment, I felt somewhat relieved, accompanied and guided. Something (or someone) moved me down the hall and that's when I noticed the other lights, which were like me, that I told above. As I moved through that corridor of light, I saw those panels of light as well, that I was passing them "one by one". There I saw infinite situations, as if there were hundreds of television screens on each panel with images of things that happen and happen. I saw circumstances of existence, hundreds of things (people?) That moved, that existed, that came and went, all that until the next panel of light, where intuition and perception were to be seeing something similarly similar, These representations were different from the previous panel. I thought or perceived: "so much variety! So many different things, so many coincidences in the same existence"; I had the feeling that everything was different within the same group of things, that those situations and what, apparently, were people, looked like colorful balls coexisting is a jar, next to thousands of other bottles. I felt (and perhaps I saw myself reflected) the smallness of a person, the smallness of a sentient being making use of his senses. To feel, within a life, it was something small (without taking away the importance that it should have) that was located within something totally and definitely bigger, than everything else, outside of that feeling, was much larger than that connected cable . I think I had the perception that the human being is a tiny bundle of nerves, lost, like a grain of sand in a galaxy.
Then, I felt alone again and disoriented (I came and went with that feeling). I looked to my left and saw an "individual" light that apparently was someone like me, with the same disorientation. What I will put now is not what happened there, but the feeling is very similar: I saw the eyes of that other light and felt, like two people who coincide on a ledge, a kind of solid desolation in front of something without any possibility of being able to rewind, in front of something that was going to take its course, yes or yes, inexorably, regardless of the quality of the spiritual tantrum that could be done. I saw that disorientation in that light and instantly a kind of smile, of acceptance, and I thought at that moment (or I realized) that his acceptance was mine, both of us on the ledge were about to jump into knowledge, without possibilities to change the course of the situation, of the facts, of the current. With that smile and acceptance of that light that, in my opinion, was someone like me, came a relief and again a feeling of being guided. [Subsequently, a similar scene from James Cameron's Titanic movie came to mind (although without the smile of the character looking at Jack or Rose), just when the ship is split in two and half is positioned vertically , and the actors look at each other, while they know that half, to which they are climbed, will inevitably sink.]
I looked up those light panels, placed side by side diagonally, all forming a corridor by section, and observed another distinct light that stood out. The light above those panels, from the view of that corridor, was like the light of a reflector colliding with the base of a wall, similar to how an artistically illuminated historical monument or building would be observed (image above an internally illuminated museum to graph). That light, which instantly felt like I was my guide, left me kindness (as if I had put kindness inside of me). Again my vision was for those light panels and the hundreds of different situations that I could see, now with that feeling that the light above the panels guided me. I also noticed that in the other corridors, above the other panels, in the other sections at my sides, there were other lights that were guiding other lights like me. I felt relief, I felt that everything was knowledge and that I did not "think" or access the consciousness of the states around me in the same way before "dying." I savored the exquisite plot and disposition of that particularity. As if the pollen of that reality entered through another conduit. I had that precision again. I knew with that light that I had to go down the hall. The custom gave birth to a small resistance stop, but I immediately let go again, waiting for that particular corridor, parallel to so many hundreds of other aisles.
Suddenly, I sensed that I was going to take an additional step. What would follow was that I was going to access the culmination, that I was going to finally settle at the base, that what I was was going to be left behind, to never come back, and nothing, absolutely nothing, from this point, it was going to be the same: that nostalgia was going to end forever.
And I woke up.
Originally published on December 31, 2015
Revised May 3, 2018
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