Mystical Experience Updates

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First off, today marked my fourth Mass at St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Ozark, Alabama. That tops the three Masses I went to at St. Mark’s in Troy, Alabama. The main thing that has changed: I am going to Mass for Christ and not for myself. That’s an incredible shift in my own consciousness.

Another good point is that since I am single at this point in my life, I attend Mass with a full dedication to Christ and can put my full focus on Him. I felt a bit uncomfortable before when I went with my then-boyfriend, as I felt I was ignoring him or not giving him the due attention. However, there was also the reality that we weren’t totally able to be open about our relationship and so on at the church on the one hand, so perhaps that played into it.

The mystical experiences to note:

One night, I had the experience of everyone being part of the Body of Christ. The mystical Body of Christ is a reality, not a metaphor. Unfortunately, Christianity often enough gets everything backwards: what is literal is taken as symbolic and what is symbolic is taken as literal. This is highly bothersome.

At any rate, the experience accorded to me that everyone is a part of THE BODY of Christ, that we are substantially, in a flesh-and-blood sort of way, made out of His very Body. Receiving the Eucharist reveals this Truth in our own bodies- the Truth of our Oneness with God and each other. This is a very real and vital sort of thing, not just a strange, flowing, undefined energetic sort of way; it’s like being a great, organic body, connected in a direct and real manner.

The next experience: as I drove to Mass today, I had the experience of Christ being on the cross, high in the sky, and all reality being united to Him. Then, I had the experience of seeing myself melt away, along with all people melt away, to reveal that underneath, we are all actually Christ. So to treat another human being in a certain way is verily to treat Christ in that way.

This comes around to a picture that my friend Richard posted recently of a man shooting heroin into his vein, showing that in doing so, he, too, is shooting heroin into the body of Jesus. The point, then, is that not only is it a matter of what we do to another person, BUT HOW WE TREAT OURSELVES, a point that is not emphasized enough in Christianity.

In the Second Great Commandment of Christ, we are told to love our neighbor as ourselves; the implication, then, is that we must FIRST love ourselves, for if we hate ourselves, we will hate our neighbor as well.

The final revelation that occurred today happened as I took a walk and, with my mala-turned-chotki, I prayed the Name of Jesus or the so-called Jesus Prayer. After a time, I began to see the shimmering in everything; there’s a strange shimmering that’s appeared more and more these days, perhaps a function of meditating more on the Third Eye. Either way, I see a light, a shimmering, in things that I have only begun seeing since a little before starting to go to Mass and probably after I started doing the meditation on the Secret of the Golden Flower.

All I can say is, “Praise be to God.”

I hope my words can be of use to others, that they either take encouragement from them or find parallels in their own mysticism.

Beaux

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The Vision

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One second, I was lying in bed having random thoughts in my head about my childhood and playing video games with one of my cousins.

The transition was then abrupt, unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before. Suddenly, I was standing in what I would guess is a dream, and I knew certainly that I was in the unconscious. Vivid, real images, terrifying- I was standing in a building, on a balcony, and I looked out to the orange horizon, the crowns of skyscrapers and city building, and beyond them clouds, and a wind, a forceful, terrifying wind coming.

No ordinary wind.

The equivalent of dismay in the vision was that the world was coming to an end. I had the sense that an atomic bomb had been dropped somewhere, but also the sense that this was not exactly that. I knew in the vision that if I were to have felt the radiation, I would have hurt with all the pain a person would feel. This world was very, very real- as real as the waking world.

The images were not as stable as the waking world, but they had the same consistent theme.

The wind grew more forceful, and I put my hands up to challenge whatever was coming at me.

Then, I did the only thing, the sole, one, and only thing, that I knew to do.

I began to recite the Name of God in my heart.

Then I forced myself to say it aloud, and out came the whisper:

“Allah.”

The winds died down considerably. I knew that was the key. I could see a visible repair of things destroyed.

And I woke, repeating His Name, again and again and again.

“Allah, Allah, Allah.”

He has me. I belong to Him.

Sufis bow to no one but God.

Beaux


2008-like Falling Away Desolation Repeat

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This is a repeat of that situation, of that phenomenon that happened back in 2008 when all my Christianity and mystical ideals fell away.

Now that I am here, in the midst of it, I can describe it. There is a sense of meaninglessness, a sense of a void, a sense of emptiness in the universe, in myself, and in the fabric of reality. There is not even the intense longing to speak of; there is only a sense of pain, dull in the heart, though this could be longing of some form, but it is not strong at all.

I cannot tell you who I am. “Stevo” means relatively little at this point. Instead, here is a human, typing these words, and who, or perhaps what, he is is a mystery.

There is a sense of dying at some point. There is a sense of my giving into death. This isn’t frightening. On the contrary, it just seems ordinary, perfunctory, even, and so I allow it to just go ahead. So what if I die? Nothing more can happen then.

There is no sense of God. There is no sense of anything in the world other than the physical universe, and even then it is completely devoid of anything purposeful. One could try to wonder and be fascinated and intrigued by all things, but that simply isn’t a part of this experience.

There is no sense of a spiritual dimension of reality. Please understand, I am not saying that it does not exist or that it is not part of this physical world. I am not making any kind of presuppositions. I am merely typing and reporting this experience, as it happens.

There’s a distinct sensation of almost pain inside of my brain, deep inside of it, perhaps around the thalamus or hypothalamus, but I cannot be sure. It isn’t an outright pain, but there’s the threat of a pain, if you can grasp that.

The world seems devoid of purpose and meaning. I’ve already said this, but allow me to make that quite clear.

I know where I am, I know the person that I am, allegedly, but again, there is no feeling or connection to that person. Thinking of people I have loved, there is only a faint sensation of knowing who they are and that I loved them. Thus, there is a feeling-sensation, but the actual feeling seems distant, though I cannot say I have consciously or willfully “detached” myself from the feeling; instead, the feeling seems to not be able to fully and completely appear in the first place.

Perhaps this is the so-called “veil” of God. I can imagine that this nothingness may be. There is only a faint sense of desolation here, but that is the most salient characteristic emotionally speaking.

My head hurts. The pain is there, but I’m not suffering from it. That can explain things, in a way.

I’ll end this now.

-b.x.