Mundane Mystic

Quantum Source ... Quantum World ... Quantum Void ... Quantum You!

I'd like to share an experience I had, a glimpse of mind undivided into

opposites of self and other and other.

It happened like this. In the middle of the night I got out of

bed to use the bathroom. The night was moonless and dark,

and on the way back to bed, I walked into the wall banging my

head. In a lightning flash, I became consciousness. As consciousness,

I watched my body recoil and go through the crumpling

and yelling associated with the trauma—not, as some have

reported, by going up to the ceiling and watching—but by being

consciousness, watching the scene unfolding within myself, with

a detached bemusement and vividly illuminated awareness.

I went back to sleep. In the morning, being consciousness

remained as myself. I went through the morning rituals and

chores with a bubbling joy at the wonder of it all. At once, a

strange thought came over me: that I could not disprove I was

now dead! This was such a joyful thought! “I’m dead!” I kept

telling myself with glee. The overall feeling was of joy that I have

rarely experienced, except in childhood or maybe on vacation at

the seashore.

Later on, as I sat in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee, my

son came in to speak with me, and what previously might have

felt like an interruption, became just another experience within

consciousness, a “happy disturbance” unfolding automaticallywith the rest.

Now, hours later, I find myself at peace. As I ponder what has

happened, two intertwined phases of perception—seemingly two

instances of myself—come to mind: The one takes place within

the dualism of self and other; the other is the silent, illumined

source of that perception. The structure of language requires

separating those two aspects for the purpose of illustration, but

it is now undeniable that in truth, I am one.

I am that person having an experience in the world of duality,

sitting on my favorite chair with a cup of coffee, hearing the

chirping of the birds, seeing the pale rose color the ambient

light makes through closed eyelids, greeting my son; I am the

quietly joyful, impersonal, illumined space of consciousness—

whole, indivisible, present