Report #216 — entities

Nothing I say at this point will do justice to the indescribable world beyond the membrane to ours. Let me preface by saying that there is a hyperdimensional reality out there every bit as real, complex, and inhabited as our own. While there, I was aware that I'd smoked DMT and that I'd only be allowed a few minutes. I was also aware of Terra taking notes, the veritable mission control for my space shuttle.

The trip felt like a flashback to a powerful dream — elusive, familiar, and full of potential. Some part of me recognized this alien landscape. The first words I sent back to Houston were, "Ohhhh, this!"

I found myself in a courtyard in front of the Egyptian pyramids or perhaps, more accurately, the pyramids after which the Egyptian ones were modeled. Above me hovered a metallic "halo" of the approximate consistency of a ring-shaped air bubble rising through water. This halo, if seen over an Iowan cornfield, would no doubt be described as a UFO. I realize this does not speak well for my sanity. Nevertheless, this is what I experienced. And I say experienced because everything I saw, I also heard and felt which makes it all the more difficult to describe.

Inside this halo, as if on different screens, floated archetypal "judges" that seemed to be watching me. The only one I could readily identify was a many-armed, profoundly Hindu, avatar which I later identified as the Destroyer's wife, Kali. The other judges were three-dimensional "glyphs" of pure meaning which defy my every attempt to describe them. It occurred to me that I was auditioning, in soul form, for a role in some future play.

I felt suddenly nervous and underprepared, like I'd arrived at a pot-luck dinner empty-handed. Then I remembered a question I'd brought to the conference, one that had never been adequately answered. Trying a singsong voice of my own I asked, "How can we reconcile wilderness with technology?"

This was an extremely difficult undertaking because every syllable's change in tone altered the landscape's features dramatically. It was hard not to get distracted by these new patterns and ask, "How can we dub-a-wub ook zawa ook-wah." Furthermore, each syllable manifested itself as a corridor, as if my sentence was a path through a labyrinth. By the time I reached a resonant "wild-er-ness," refreshingly green with concentric wave-like borders, I saw the question mark stretched like a ribbon at the end of a marathon, and knew that I would make it.

After I uttered the final inflection, I burst forth from the labyrinth onto the pyramid's moonlit stage. Then the whole scene rippled, rose up in front of me, and smashed my mind with a tidal wave of beauty. I staggered backward bewildered, then realized the answer. Aesthetics over everything was my take-home message. This truth coursed through me with what felt like affection. An immense, lasting smile spread over my face. "Can I bring my book into it?", I asked, hopefully.

Then I thought to myself, "Wait a minute, these people aren't publishers." Suddenly I was looking down an undulating tunnel that formed a 'T' along the horizon. From both sides of the 'T' I heard "them" approaching, a rising crescendo along the periphery. At that moment I turned and went back to the pyramids, not ready I guess to have to say I'd seen aliens. Besides, I already had too much to contemplate: pyramids, UFO's, and streams of pure beauty.