When I was 20 years old, I went through a particularly rough 6-month period. It sucked, day in and day out. I will spare you the excruciating details. But during this time, I had the most amazing dreams. In hindsight, they seemed to offset some of the pain I was experiencing.
Once, I went to sleep and dreamed that a green bird was sitting on my shoulder. We had a long, long conversation. We were good friends and we loved each other very much. When I awoke, I was happy. Another time, I dreamed that the animals of the forest assembled before me in a field and sang a beautiful song to me. Again, when I awoke, I was happy. I wish I remembered that song. Still another time, I fell asleep and dreamed that a clown was doing slight-of-hand magical tricks for me. I laughed and laughed, and woke up smiling.
Perhaps the most profound moment of this 6-month misery stint was a particularly transcendent state I found myself in one night. It is hard to describe what I experienced, because it was a non-ordinary state of consciousness. It was a bliss so extreme that it transcended any high I had ever previously experienced. Nor have I encountered it since. This feeling of profound spiritual peace was accompanied by images: I was in an alabaster city, walking its cobblestone streets with a group of bald monks who wore white robes. Everything was pure and white. That night I experienced ecstasy.
Back then, I could go out into the woods, and sit down in a Redwood grove, and actually feel the peace and beauty emanating from the trees. I walked and biked most everywhere, and lived in the foggy forest. I was still connected to nature at that time, and it was everywhere around me. Santa Cruz was the most beautiful place I ever lived.
Now, I spend my days plugged into computers and driving East Bay streets. I don't feel as much as I used to. I've lost touch. The dreams are gone, but so is much of that pain I once felt.
Once, I went to sleep and dreamed that a green bird was sitting on my shoulder. We had a long, long conversation. We were good friends and we loved each other very much. When I awoke, I was happy. Another time, I dreamed that the animals of the forest assembled before me in a field and sang a beautiful song to me. Again, when I awoke, I was happy. I wish I remembered that song. Still another time, I fell asleep and dreamed that a clown was doing slight-of-hand magical tricks for me. I laughed and laughed, and woke up smiling.
Perhaps the most profound moment of this 6-month misery stint was a particularly transcendent state I found myself in one night. It is hard to describe what I experienced, because it was a non-ordinary state of consciousness. It was a bliss so extreme that it transcended any high I had ever previously experienced. Nor have I encountered it since. This feeling of profound spiritual peace was accompanied by images: I was in an alabaster city, walking its cobblestone streets with a group of bald monks who wore white robes. Everything was pure and white. That night I experienced ecstasy.
Back then, I could go out into the woods, and sit down in a Redwood grove, and actually feel the peace and beauty emanating from the trees. I walked and biked most everywhere, and lived in the foggy forest. I was still connected to nature at that time, and it was everywhere around me. Santa Cruz was the most beautiful place I ever lived.
Now, I spend my days plugged into computers and driving East Bay streets. I don't feel as much as I used to. I've lost touch. The dreams are gone, but so is much of that pain I once felt.
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