After days of intermittent weeping in tenderhearted exposure to the cold pessimism of the world, and the cold-hearted resistance to it that causes so much pain and suffering – defences, tricks, manipulations, distanciation, dissociation, fears, self-pity, and all the other actions and components of emotional pain – after days of this I put a stop to it all.

It was a long portal, like a birth canal, through which I was to pass. I couldn’t remain where I was for the push forward was too great. I couldn’t rush through because the process was not of my active conscious doing. All I could do was wait in as much patience as I could for it to pass.

But I found there was no waiting at all. I began to understand the fleshy pressures around me on all sides, to scientifically study them as I felt them, to bring them into a vocabulary of awareness. In a way, this process was satisfying to my being, and helped immensely as I felt the cosmic contractions bear down upon me, and as the forms and undulations of unspeakable crushing personal inevitability were throttling me, revealing my being and outlook. This easily could take entire weeks and months. I looked back over the past year and realized that this process had been gong on for some time.

I wonder if I’ve explained myself clearly enough: the pressure is of flesh, the contractions are a sort of peristalsis that permits me to move incrementally through the oppressive weeping tunnel. It weeps tears and I weep tears and together these tears of ours lubricate my passage. I know I am passing through each of the areas of observation, I don’t stay there long.

It is dark but I see with my mind’s eye the exit portal to which I am being carried. I was expelled from the cave temple when the ceremony was completed. Somehow I was given this particular exit way, this one corridor only for me, a way out that was nothing I could ever have imagined. What I think or imagine has no place here – the imperative is beyond that level entirely.

When it began and I was thrust forward, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Confused, unable to articulate this particular darkness, I was unaware that my tears lubricated the passage. I didn’t even know there was a passage. I just felt hemmed in and constricted by all things of life.

Now I see the profound adventure – the mystic journey, the exciting activity we are participating in: we are not on earth to be static, to eventually go into a state of entropy. As we age this greater vehicle awaits us.

Parked like a limo at the end of the walk from our front door. The driver’s face can’t be seen. The car moves swiftly in the night. You don’t know where you are going. Poetry is piped into the sound system and you sit back in comfort as the car speeds through the whole world like a futuristic hovercraft that doesn’t ever touch the ground.

Soon you run out of snacks and drinks. The radio signal is static. The driver is more and more ominous-seeming. At the instant you realize you are trapped, the vehicle falls apart – its components shoot into space in all directions. Silent. Beyond the planet. You are momentarily suspended before plummeting through palpable darkness. Yet there is no sense of fretful. No sensation of movement on the skin, the hair is in place. The falling occurs innerly: there is a gasp and then silent internal freefall in dark space.

Two forms appear in the far distance. Circling one another and circling eventually toward you. They carry light and their circling creates persistence of vision – you see the circle whole as a circle of light. They surround you. You are warmed in the light they give off and one is male, the other female. They are thought beings of the self fragmented off so you may see them.

They reduce the circle size to enter your heart, where their circling becomes an engine of love. The heart beats, and with each beat the two perform one circle. Their circling causes a gyration, and your body is now circling spherically in space, like a Da Vinci human form held in a 3- dimensional spherical frame.

This turning creates a cosmic sound that penetrates all matter in any material world. The gyroscope enlarges and reduces to miniature as it is turning, and soon planets and stars show in the space darkness – they are also turning. They also emit sounds.

In this whirling of the cosmos you are a full participant. The vehicle of the mind has taken you into the play of the stars. The confines of the canal are forgotten. As one our eyes open from within, the eyes behind the eyes see the triangle created by third eye and two eyes. Pointing upward it sends an intermittent pulsation to the turning in the heart of the gyro-being. That signal is carrying awareness. It is responded to by the circle of the two in the heart – with each rotation another completion of another turn, there is an emanation, a cry of love.

If the eye could hear the cry it would weep for joy. It hears the cry as light, a flashing signal visible to the closed eyes.

I close my eyes. With each breath I send out a signal through the third eye to the circling flashing light of the heart. I’m guiding it home. I’m almost there.