-I spent most of the next year in meditation going into wherever intense pain was, trying to penetrate the source of it and release it so that voice and feeling would return, but it never spoke, though I sensed the silence occasionally. This was very frustrating but I became very aware of the defenses and games I had created to both shield and contain me. I could not quite get to the feeling of them but I got the ideas and explanations. In this time I learned humans really are a feeling, not an internal conversation. The internal conversation is a shield and at the same time a tormentor, holding the pain at bay yet being the very thorn that hurts.

-At age 43 one night in meditation I found myself having intense “memories,” though I do not know if they were mine, of being a Nazi SS soldier, killing defenseless civilians, gathering them into rickety huts and lighting them on fire. I felt all the anger in my soul. I felt the pointlessness of collecting stuff, gathering endless fantasies, increasing awareness, pouring all this into an internal conversation that would evaporate at death. It all seemed so pointless and irrelevant. The Voice suddenly spoke. “So, are you bored with this yet?” I paused a few seconds and began cursing it, swearing at it for abandoning me, all of us, for letting all this happen, that It was the most useless piece of crap around for being this way to us. My feelings and thoughts paused for a second, and then it said, “No, I mean really, are you done with this yet?” in a tone that was completely serious. I knew that I had reached a point where I had to choose, the way I had always been or change.
“OK, for you I will let it go” I thought. Suddenly there was a red amber hued cloud, and I could see two legs, shackled at the ankles. On my physical body there was a piecing pain on my ankles. The shackles snapped open and the pain was gone. “You are free to go now” said the voice.

--I was self impressed by this. Whatever this being was it was talking to me, and apparently no one else. I felt I was in an eternal prison and could choose to leave. I began to walk the halls of the prison, though I did not want to leave. Freedom is scary for someone used to fear and self hatred. No I wanted to gloat. So I choose to keep working on things. I developed a massive spiritual ego mixed with helping others so they would see how cool I was. I felt I knew something important and became irritated when people would not recognize it. Ego mania is such a trouble. I did this for another year and the result was I was seeking the validation of others, full of anger and full of myself, just like the previous 44 years.

-At yet another meditation I was stalking around, vilifying everyone and trying to channel the love of God, when suddenly I dropped very deep inside, heard the silence, and got ready for God's love to fill me and the room. Instead there was an intense searing energy strike that hit me, like lighting from outside but it came from inside. I collapsed on the ground and grabbed my neck. It was dulled yet piercingly hurt. The strike had hit precisely at the same spot that I had jumped out of standing next to my mother. I rolled around in pain, hoping others would see what was happening, partially because I needed help but really to show them what was happening. As I squirmed I realized a lot of communication had come in that strike, starting with “quit being such a whining show off, your just one of seven billion of a tiny species among millions on a tiny planet” “thank you for the kind offer to channel me into others, but I already have direct contact with them all so cut that trip out” “Feeling special about being connected with me, which everyone already has access to, is like feeling special about breathing” and “I said you were free to go, now go” and it felt like I was grabbed by the neck and thrown out of the prison. This last one was the real challenge - after all the years of feeling tormented and traumatized I did not want to be at peace, I wanted to sit in judgment and be angry and vilify others, but that was not going to happen. One cannot translate in front of eternity, one has to transform.

--It took a week before I could comfortably get out of bed, my neck hurt so much. But I had changed. It was like the human form that I was born into and had groomed for decades had been stripped off me, the old me had died and “I” had awakened. There was an ongoing sense of an “other” part of me, the one that had jumped to the ceiling many years before, from which I could perceive “things” of another nature. It felt like it was released and flying somewhere, somewhere not of this place. I became compassionate, wanting to help others, and very comfortable in my skin. And Home.

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