Reflect on the question above and share your thoughts with the rest of the community.
i met my daemon and touched me all 7 chakras with a lot of power. it was the most amazing experience in my life. he had true power of love. mean light.
_My autobiography consists almost entirely of unusual state-experiences. The rest is either ornamentation or preparation. Perhaps what would be of interest here is the condition which immediately precedes my first period of involvement with the integral community. I had just moved back to Victoria from Calgary after determining that I could not write a poem in that city. Not only did I have no future plans, I also received two very interesting pieces of news. Firstly, my parents were divorcing. Secondly, my friend who had been keeping my clothes in some bags in his car tells me that he was burgled and… all my clothes were the only thing taken. This was an auspicious time for self-shedding. Now we get to the meat of the event. I’m up late and in the morning I’m waiting for the local city bus. I’m way early. An hour of groggy bus stop time. If only, I say to myself, I could nap for a half hour! That would be ideal. However my general stress and the mood of vigilance appropriate to scheduled travel would not let me relax into rest. I lay with my eyes closed wishing that I could release myself into the unconscious. This began to seem like a much larger problem. After all – wasn’t the difficult of self-release really the entire issue that I had been confronting for my entire life? What did I really want beyond the capacity to let go of concern, stress and egoic concentration? And the more I perceived this problem as singular, as total, the more I found myself confronted by my own stupidity. I was ACTIVELY tensing even though I wished for nothing so much as relaxation. I was provoking the egoic mind even though I was the very entity that wished to undermine and transcend it. I was the one poking myself even though I was suffering the soreness. What an idiot! The sheer stupidity of my own action in contradiction to my own motives stood forth in luminous clarity. And in the moment of greatest intensity of appreciation of self-idiocy – I let go. It was suddenly easy. Worse! It seemed as if it would be eternally easy as long as I could remember how existentially stupid I am. This was incredible. It did not last a few minutes or hours but remained strong and prominent for several weeks. I felt during this time as if all problems were fundamentally resolved. Social anxiety dropped to a ridiculous degree. I was slurred into bemusement and if I swayed outside the cone of happiness it was easy to navigate back using the observation of my foolishness. Interestingly I became viscerally unable to respond to direct references to myself. People who addressed me or used my name seemed to be speaking to “someone next to me”. I couldn’t answer such prompts. Not only had I lost my family and clothes but also my identity. And my mind felt vaster. Larger. And then, suddenly, hungry for food to fill this new space. Specific food. It was interested only in “post-postmodernism” or anyone who had grappled with the question of high relativity and trans-pluralism. Nietzsche. Heidegger. Wilber. And in reading Wilber (whom I had perused in adolescence with no strong impression) I discovered a “language” for the ideas I was having. Thus I resolved to learn this language and test my competence by discussion with the community of people already speaking this way. Since then, the experience has either lapsed or been so integrated that it no longer stands out. Either way it was plateau-y enough to last several weeks and luminous enough to be fill me with preposterous contentment even now as a lingering visceral memory… _