I used to think that there was this place, and other places. As in, you’re in this world or you’re in Narnia, middle earth, wonderland, never-neverland, a sidewalk painting, etc.
In Imajica, by Clive Barker, there is the earth and then there are the other four dominions which it’s been kept separated from through the efforts of those who would close us off from anything more than mundane. There are those on earth who cross over from time to time, some on purpose but mostly by accident. Poets, magicians, psychedelic adventurers perhaps. In order to get there, one needs to pass through a realm called the In Ovo. It’s filled with all sorts of creatures you probably don’t want to encounter.
But it’s something to think about, the inbetweens. We’re all about the here and then, the now and then, but what happens in the spaces surrounding those and us?
What about all the things we don’t see?
Notice I did not say can’t see.
Human perception is not all that perceptive, in my opinion. We miss turns, we look at our phones and put them away only to realize we still don’t know what time it is. We look at lots of stuff, but I’m not sure how much we see. I did DMT once (okay, more than once) and it was beautiful. Like, astoundingly so.
(Here we go with the disclaimer..I do not and will not ever suggest that anyone should do what I do, or expect to have an experience like I did because my choices are my own, my perspective is my own, and I was very fortunate to have good friends/guides along the way to keep me tethered, which is very important.)
Anyhoo, I don’t know enough about the processes involved to know exactly what happens, chemically, physically, etc. How it felt was that I had suddenly been exposed to the world as it actually is, with all the vibrancy and interconnectedness one might expect when encountering the earth and all it’s denizens as parts of an organic ecosystem. It was so beautiful to see, to watch, to understand my intrinsic role in the whole of it. To understand that every part is just as vital. Very ‘watch that first step, it’s a looloo’ sort of feeling. And it didn’t last long, though it also felt like forever, and when I realized the visions were fading, I was sad because now that I understood how things actually look, I wanted it to stay like that.
The greater understanding came not long after. Where I realized that if the world looked like that all the time, I might go mad. Not because I wouldn’t be able to process what I was seeing, though that might be difficult after a lifetime of more mundane visual offerings, but because I would be more or less alone there. The easiest way for people to connect is through shared experiences. We don’t know that the people around us don’t see the world exactly as we do. They don’t. No one sees the world exactly as I do. That’s what subjectivity is. I think. Pretty sure. Anyway, regardless of that, the perception is at least similar enough that we can have a shared experience. But if I’m trying to point out that my friends hooded sweater has just turned into a panda, I’m going to be raising some alarms pretty quick.
I used to work as a lighting tech for festivals, and have seen all sorts of people exploring the outer reaches in various ways, regardless of what their words to describe it were. I love the doorway. I love the transitional place where I am still myself but acknowledge that I am part of something else simultaneously.
I think perhaps that’s what makes dreams so intriguing. I am myself and so many other things. I read somewhere that if there is a house in the dream, it represents how you see yourself. I’m not sure if any interpretations are more or less true than any others, but this constant mystery world exists within us all the time.
Oh the duality.
(And then some)