Enlightenment! (or invasion?)

luka

Well-known member
any ascended masters in the place? i am an ascended master as i'm sure you can all tell cos my light radiates through my words. any, let me try and be less flippant. i had a funny experience when i was 21 which at the time i thought was good in all ways, it was like, wow, i know everything, i'm an ascended master at the forefront of evolution. i'm 25 now and i tend to think of it more as an invasion, a coup or a terrible mistake. irreversible neural damage. its something i worry about. has anyone else got any thoughts on enlightenment experiences and their potential for creating paranoia. k-dick's thing all about this i spose.


i might be willing to elaborate if anyone particularly wanted me too, although i think its clear where i'm coming from.
 
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luka

Well-known member
one angle to approach the question from is
resistance or surrender
as all born-again, satori type experiences are in one way or another, surrenders and that is at the core of my uneasiness. what did i surrender to? what came in when i winched up the portcullis?

why, at first, it seems so blissful, is that its like taking off a hair shirt you didn't even realise you were wearing, but maybe thats the whole scam. pleasure as the bait, a bribe to give up control of your mind.

i don't think exclusively in this vein. sometimes i think, why wear a hairshirt when you don't have to. thats th most stupid fucking thing i ever heard.
 

MBM

Well-known member
I went to Bodh Gaya and all I got was this lousy enlightenment

I went to Bodhgaya and sat under a descendant of the tree under which the Buddha himself attained enlightenment.

Didn't really work for me. But other things have.

Resistance or surrender? Dunno, mate. Neither maybe. Does it matter if it's fake or real?

And more to the point, who decides if it's real or fake?

How do you know if it's an invasion & a catstrophe or a vision, something taking you to the next level.

I would venture that all enlightenment experiences are catastrophic - and what matters is what you do with them afterwards. It's not the demolishing, it's the rebuilding.

All this is quite vague - I have specific examples but most of them are too personal (and embarrassing to be honest) to write about here.

In Buddhism you have the Three Refuges (aka Three Jewels):
1. Dharma (or the scripture/practice)
2. Buddha (the examplar)
3. Sangha (the community)

You need each of these if you're after enlightenment shit: practices, role models and people to give you a hand.

Hope that wasn't too wanky.
 
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MBM

Well-known member
Or to put it another way

I grew up in an evangelical baptist church. We had it all going on: speaking in tongues, spirit healing, prophecy and exorcism. One bloke exorcised me coz I listened to The Police (far enough, I spose).

Apparently I was full of demons. Apparently everyone was full of demons. Must get quite crowded in there.

I came to believe that what I had been told were possesions were in fact nothing of the kind. The demons were scapegoats - ways of talking about parts of us we want to deny.

Or may be they were real and they have succeeded in fooling me into disbelieving in them.

I dunno. I'm not sure it matters. Whether these are demons or neurosis or whatever. What matters is what you you do with what's inside you. Whether you acknowledge it, ignore it, accomodate it, expel it.
 

Woebot

Well-known member
luka said:
resistance or surrender
my own experience was at the hands of drugs (wasnt yours with mushrooms luka?) which was a shame. drugs represent a fast-track to deeper understanding and the consequence is twofold. firstly you're dragged to the final destination kicking and screaming (rather as if you were riding a horse and fell out of the saddle) this means you get to the end destination a bit bruised, it can colour your perception of what knowledge you attain.

secondly, and this is most important, you become uncertain as to the paths you took getting to this end destination. the stronger the drug that 'teleports' you to to the point of enlightenment the more this is true. for instance with very strong LSD you get there but are most probably divided in two by the experience, so scant is the evidence of a path which links your everyday state to that of enlightenment.

i used to use the example of indian-vs-electronic music in this context. the most ecstatic indian music is attuned to the point of enlightenment, yet the masters of that music work all hours of the day for years upon end to achieve their transcendental music, and most people (i couldnt claim to someone who grasps it fully) can only look up at the mountain of their musical achievement. to turn to electronics, very similar things can be achieved through electronics (our banale portal to infinite sound) but the problem becomes that we then fail to properly understand its relationship to lived life, and it cleaves time and space in two.

so, at least as far as im concerned, having experienced some 'oneness' has meant putting in an enormous amount of legwork after-the-fact to try and understand retrospectively what happened, and i suppose re-unite myself. resistance or surrender? dont know, never really thought about it like this. at the time it felt like id found exactly what it was i was looking for, but that it scared the living fuck out of me when i gazed upon it. its something i could (quite indulgently) talk about all day, and yet still not do it much justice. that dopey comic book i did cary grant was an attempt to get to grips with it, but ended up only really touching on a small fragment of it.
 

luka

Well-known member
well, on the actual day yeah, mushrooms, in new zealand, blue meanies. there were 6 mushrooms in hot water for 3 minutes, the mushrooms were thrown out and the water was shared between 3 people, including myself. i took some acid by myself about three says earlier too. all that year i'd been taking acid and mushrooms quite regularly.
the drugs do mean its a lot easier to doubt the experiece. writing lead me up to the cliff and drugs pushed me off. those were the two things, poetry and phycedeli css.
 

MBM

Well-known member
Woebot> Yeah, I've had quite a lot (too many?) conversations with people about this exact topic.

Which brings me back to a comment I made recently in these parts - which chimes in nicely with the Woebot's comments:

You take the LSD, you climb mountain everest and then what? How does it effect the way you make the tea? Who do you embed this in lived experience.

The point is: You can. But it requires creativity and patience to weave these experiences back into everyday life.

Initiation never ends.
 

luka

Well-known member
i dn't want to come across as rude mbm, but i am, ha!
i was hoping for more personal accounts than truisms and platitudes, none of us are monks on a mountain.be a bit human for us sunshine.
and matt, you know it irritates me when you're disparaging about your comics, i think they're brillaint.
 

MBM

Well-known member
Luka> Fair point - but no one else had, so I was just going with the platitudinous flow.

How about this one?

I went to a wedding of a couple of close friends of mine in Bristol. In an advanced drunken stupor, I agreed to give them an I Ching reading. When I sobered up, I got a a bit worried: what if I ended up with something like Splitting Apart ? That'd land me a world of trouble.

So I reckoned I needed to get the help of a master. Some like, say, Isaac Hayes. But how? Fortunately I'd bought a set of South Park figures ages ago and they were lying around the flat. I think I found a couple of the Shaft soundtrack also.

I built a shrine to Chef/Isaac, meditated and then did the divination.

I ended up with Wooing leading to Gathering Together . Which was a pretty good description of a wedding. The couple loved it.

Sorry if this isn't Carlos Castenada but there you go.

I think one key thing is how you involve other people in these activities. Otherwise, you may end up enlightened but you're still a selfish prick.

OK - who else?
 
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luka

Well-known member
i expected more of you.

i've received quite a few privae messages and emails about this thread. they all say, well, you know i'd like to post, but i'm too embaressed, or i can't find the words. someone who shared their experience with me wrote today to say
Luke,

Well, fair enough - but I can't help feelin that youv've played me for a
fool. You say; "tell me your truth" = and then "Hah, yay, fucker".

All I offered was a little game.

No more games. i expected more of you.

Nevermind...

which stung me a little. so i wrote this to prove i don't care, i will say it, i don't have to hide. i can say anyhting i like. the point of this isn't wow aren't i amazing, or, god wasn't i a typical emabressing adolescent, its just trying to be honest about how i felt at the time. it is a fairly typical experince. part of its value lies in its arcetypal nature. i tend to think it helps if people are just honest and upfront, these things happen, this is how i interpreted it at the time, end of story. and if theres anyone reading whos going throught the same thing now then maybe it will help. i'm not being flip, it was important to me then and it remains important to me, i'm not going to apologise for it.
 

luka

Well-known member
i didn't like being a kid much. it weren't that great. i didn't like school either. first i read books under the table. when i got older i was the class clown, distracting people, taking the piss.
other people make me feel all claustrophobic. it's at its worst when you're a kid. other people, and the pressure to conform that is.
it was a relief to reach six form and get a bit of breathing space. i started reading different things. thinking different things. feeling different things. listened to a lot of music. spent a lot of time by myself. it was like, what do they call it when a diver comes to the surface too quickly, he has to- whatever the word is, thats what i was doing. started smoking weed a few days a week rather than the odd occassion here and there. it was an exciting time. i was becoming myself.

i fucked up my a-levels. i got a d, an e and a u.
i'#d been getting a lot of shit from teachers and my parents about not working since i was about 8. i never felt any of that applied to me. i didn't want to work, i had better things to do. i had my own agenda. my parents split up. i accepted a place at middlesex. i hated middlesex. i didn't go much. i started taking long walks through london instead of going to class. i started writing. i started writing because i wanted to record the experiences i was having and the images and phrases that kept popping into my head. i felt like i was beginning to see the world for the first time. i'd go into an exquisite, delicate, melancholy trance as i walked through the streets. everything was very sad and very beautiful. i didn't have a girlfriend.

i got a lot of books out the librbay.

there was a flipside to all this. i was a bit depressed and mopey. i don't like using the word depression cos i don't get it properly, not like some people. i was a bit morose though. thoughts about being ugly and weird and undesirable kept flashing through my head. the weed helped amplify my paranoia. i'd think my friends didn't like me. i'd think people were talking about me, that they held me in contempt etc etc. i was very self-conscious. i dressed badly. i never had any money. i didn't go out much and when i did i didn't much enjoy it. people having fun all around me put me in a bad mood. i acted a bit weird in classes, laughing at inappropriate times, saying innapropriate things. fidgeting a lot with an agitated expression on my face. i wasn't happy but i was enjoying the strange expereicenes. sometimes i'd think thoughts which seemed to be of a different ontological status* to other thoughts. i thought of these thoughts as 'pure thoughts' they triggered electric tingles throughout my whole body when they occured. they felt like truth. i;'d write these thoughts down. i thought of them as stepping stones towards something. they seemed to lead to each other. i was quite preoccupied with trying to see beauty in the world too. i was looking at a lot of art books. i like rembrandt and the rennassaince artists and vermeer the best. i like going to the national gallery a lot. sometimes the pictures came alive. something in my perception would shift and i'd see the picture as if for the first time. i thought, wow, i bet not everyone can do that! the painting became ultra-vivid in a way which is difficult to explain.

the university said, look, you don't do the work, you don't turn up to class, you don't even turn up for the exams, why are you still here? piss off. so i left and then i had nothing to do. well, i got a job but i didn't turn up much, i used to go for walks. i got sacked. i loved going for walks. my personality would dissolve. i looked very intently. it was all very exciting. i didn't take a notebook. i'd keep everything in my head then write it down at home. i'd stay up late and sit in the kitchen whn everyone was asleep. i'd listen to pirate radio, soul and reggae stations, drink tea, dance and write on kitchen roll. some of my friends thought i was fucked in the head and i should just be normal. i didn't like them much anyway though. fuck them. pricks, what did they know. bods. normal people. i weren't interested.

i was very self-conscious. i ised to feel and behave as if i was always being watched. i used to worry a lot about the signals i was giving out. i'd worry about how to arrange my legs when i sat down, what position to assume while waiting for the lights to change to green, the sound of my own voice tortured me and i was horrified by my clothes which fitted badly, and were not stylish or flattering. i felt i was on a mission though. i like rimbaud, sylivia plath, michaux, blake and rilke especially. i like people who wrote at a very high-pitch becuase thats how i felt at the time. very intense and a bit unbalanced. i felt i was having mystical experiences which marked me out as a true artist. i still didn't have a girlfriend.
 

luka

Well-known member
i went to new zealand. i got my first real job and stuck at it. i made friends. i went out. i enjoyed myself. i met girls. i enjoyed the sun. labouring made me fit and strong. i felt confident. being from london gave me minor celebrity status. i was accepted. i didn't have many funny expereicenes but i felt i was happy for the frst time in my life. i felt i had suceeded in becoming a normal well-adjusted person.

i got bored of that after a while. i felt something was missing. that 'higher' dimnesion of expereince. so i sorted myself out with an unrequited love and lots of acid and mushrooms and recovered that dimension of my life.i felt intense again. i wanted that girl well badly, and she liked me but i didn't really know. k-punks latest post is very good on this. read it so i don't have to explain. does she, doesn't she, who fucking knows, i didn't even know if i fancied her really, heh! so i was taking all that buisness smoking half ounce of skunk a week, going on walks, reading a lot. i remember the morning after my first trip i woke up and vomited out 3 a4 pages of handwriteen poem, i thought, that was pretty cool althougn i didn't think it was as conducive to poetry as weed. i felt that it made me normal./ acid that is. i thought, its like normal life, but clearer. i can just see more.

the week before the mushrooms which tipped me over the edge i woke up one morning and thought. i want some acid. so i went and bought some acid from a maori geezer called bill in auckland univeristy and took it right there and then/ i walked around, i kept moving, then i thought, why am i moving? i'll try sitting down. so i sat down on the football pitches in the domain. i lay down and looked up at the sky. i took a sip of my beer. i felt lots of energy coursing through my body. i thought, yeah right, energy. thats life. thats what you're given, energy and you have to make it do your bidding. and i thought, right now, i use that energy solely to source, purchase and smoke weed. i could turn that energy to any use and instead i waste it in the pursuit of self-oblivion. thats probably not that great. the discovery of this energy i felt was a big insight. later i got this feeling so i was down by a river and said om to myself a few times and something happened, i can't remember what, i think i felt like i'd just secured some more space for my mind to move in. i think i felt i'd broken some bonds, some mind forged manacles. i can't remember exactly. it was quite exhilerating though.

then a week later my mate seth phoned me and asked for the $100 i owed him. i said, yeah i';ll bring it up to 277 where he was working in starbucks. when i got there he was with his mate mark. mark had some blue meanie juice. blue meanies are notoruiously strong. i hoped i'd get some. he pured the liquid into the frappachino mixer and made oragne mango mushroom frappachinos for all threee of us. we walked back to mine thorugh newmarket togehter drinking our drinks. haalfway down ayr street it began taking hold, fuck, that happened pretty quick we thought, thats what, all of ten minutes, usually i have to wait at least an hour, choyce! must be good ones then! i felt like i was super-articulate, well i was actually quite articualte. i felt i could epxress each thought and perception that arised in my mind perfectly, no groping for words, the perfect ones were right there. there were no barriers, we'd just express the thoughts as they arose in our heads and each thing the other said sent a tingle of recognition passing through everyone elses bodies and minds. we went to mine on bassett road and sat there talking till the trip wore off. it was the best trip ever and drugs have never worked for me since. i felt like i'd finally reached my goal, this is it! and to my immense suprise, those two were there with me. in that world. that changed everything! you know! how many others know! they said, we knew you were ready. it was really weird and made me happy.i also realised for the first time, that these two liked me, not for the things i said or did but just because. they liked me, i didn't have to police my behaviour so strictly, i was accpeted. i projected that feeling onto the world. i don't need to worry, its ok! i'm alright. that was what i meant by taking off a hairshirt. no more worrying about how to sit or the sound of my voice, i'll just be me, fuck it, no more having to fool people into thinking i'm something i'm not. no more terror of the mask slipping. tht was always my greatst fear, the mask slipping/ i was still very articulate. once or twice i would be overhwelmed by bliss and would lie on the bed letting the waves wash over me, only a tiny thread still holding me to the world. when i came back i'd have a bit of information or a thought to share. we all did that. went off on one while the other two talked, then we;d come back with a titbit from the other world.

i didn't come down for over 6 months, maybe almost a year, in truth i'll never go back to how i was. i was hyper articualte and forthright for months. bad things happned too. i lost my temper for the first time in my life. i was on a very short fuse. i lost my job after yelling abuse at the manager. people thought i was going mad. i broke my hand in a moment of rage. the dcotor who treated me said i was probably 'mildly scitzophrenic' a mental health crisis team come round my house. i said, nah, leave it out, you're wasting your time, i'm not a threat to myself and i'm certainly not a threat to anyone else, i've just taken a load of drugs and my brain is inflamed thats all. they were like, ok, we'll go then. i wrote lots of weird poetry. some of it was good some of it was embaressing. i totally scared and alienated that girl i fancied. she's just had a baby as it goes.

*ontological status-dunno if i used that in context, maybe its meaningless/ don't tease me
 

Backjob

Well-known member
Fuck this is fascinating. Judging by precedent, I'll probably get flamed for this, but what the fuck.

I find Matt and Luka's posts above very affecting, particularly Luka's.

See, you say invasion, for me it felt like possession, and when it ended it felt like robbery. I dunno if there's a need to do personal history business, but it lasted about 6 months. Drugs were involved. The first flush of youth was involved, but I don't think that's what was important.

The thing crept up gradually, but suddenly it reached a point (yeah, at a rave, on pills and acid, but honestly I don't think that was important) where everything became effortless. The answer to every decision was clear - no agonising or weighing up possible consequences - the route was like a bright shining line leading ahead. I knew that if I followed that road everything would be okay.

We spent 6 months never locking our doors - houses or cars. Lending money to strangers and getting it back every time. Taking every chance and risk, and always having it pay off. We could judge people just by looking at them and know everything we needed to know. I learned to read tarot cards and every time I did it, it unlocked a truth. Everywhere we went it was like we shone - people were drawn like moths to a flame.

That sounds like it was just luck, but felt more than that. In retrospect I'd say it was simplistic, but complex understanding always looks simplistic from the outside so who can tell. That's why these discussions descend into monk on a mountaintop platitudes - without the clarity of mutual understanding you just sound like a self-help book.

And then there was one day when it all just fucked up. I wandered along san francisco beach picking up shells and rocks and wrapping them up in paper that I'd written on and gave her this huge handful of soggy salty sentiment but none of it made sense or connected.

But I like it that luka's post talks about the talking with people bit as being key. Reminds me of reading about Rumi and his relationship with Shams, like all those poems are love poems to Shams because the two of them understood one another perfectly - noise free communication and this level of communication being inseparable from their mutual utter absorbtion and loss in their love of god.

I had a very similarly intense mushroom experience, except we didn't talk. We all retreated into private worlds and it was utterly horrific and tragi-comic. one of my most unpleasant drugs experiences ever. I guess the ascendence can't come internally. That's why I think buddha was wrong and rumi was right - it's a conversation or a link that pushes you up there not something inside of you.
 

sufi

lala
goes sumthin like this...

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sufi

lala
been reading this thread closely, trying to analyse which words to use ...
not there yet, but on the case as follows

not sure about having ascended, at some stage i kinda came to terms with my own psyche and it's place in the great scheme, this was not thru any brush with mental health or narcotic 'issues' - which for me are still on-going ;) :D - rather gradually thru travel and sharing wise thoughts with as diverse people as possible, but there's been no crisis or ascendency for me, an enlightenment perhaps, or an overcoming of denial & conditioning into consciousness

ouch, it defies analysis - so i never tried :rolleyes:
 
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