Recently, as part of trying to figure out what’s going on with me, I had a phone call with a woman named Lisa Cairns in France. Lisa is someone who talks about non-duality. I was saying to her that I had never had an experience like she had in the café in Bali where her contracted sense of separate self seemed to leave her body through her eyes, leaving only everything, everything in all its perfection.
Without even realizing the connection, I started describing something that happened in a therapy session sometime around 2002, sixteen years ago. This was about a year or two after the un-manifest absolute, the wholeness that is everything, had been revealed at the crown of my head, but revealed to no one.
I have no memory of what the therapy session was about, but I do remember the feeling of a giant bubble spontaneously rise up from the base of my spine, all the way up through my body, and exit through the crown of my head. I remember stumbling out of that therapy session and noticing some roses outside. I remember just looking at them in awe, blown away by their beauty and perfection. I found my car and started to drive home, but then I had to pull over and get down on my knees in front of a giant redwood tree. There I sobbed uncontrollably at the beauty and wholeness of everything.
I have no location. There is just this. I think it’s…
