This is part of a novella. You can go straight to the beginning here, or go back to previous exert here.
At 21 I lived for almost a year as a caretaker of a farm. I wrote, gardened, took care of dogs, inquired into life and forgot about the world out there. I needed to get away from people. I needed to escape from the noise in my own head.
One day, walking the dogs, the dried up grass gold on the ground, Light struck the top of my head, changing my vision for ever.
For three days and three nights I was only light. My vision was clear, my body was nonexistent and I saw beneath the surface. The top of my head was aglow, burning bright and beyond. And I experienced, without doubt, down into the cells of my body, out into the apparent differences in shape and form that we were indeed, all One.
I saw underneath the apparent surface, everything was made up of similar ‘stuff’. This stuff infused all things, including air, and the space between things. There was no here, there was just everywhere that existed in one moment. Up close and far away were the same. Just ever increasing expression of shapes and colours. But we were all the same stuff. Glowing alive magical stuff.
I lost my centre. I lost who I thought I was. Everything was washed away with a light so bright it penetrated every aspect of my previous self. There was no me. There was only light.
Loss of identity.
Loss of ideas.
Loss of beliefs.
Loss of ambition.
Loss of purpose.
Loss of all the things that came together to make me ‘me’. It was gone. There was nothing, at least for those three days.