In his mind he has lain prostrate many times before this high altar and begged for peace. What is obvious as an onlooker is that is punishing himself and only himself. There is no word of condemnation from the crucified one, there is silence waiting for the day when he will truly trust that he has been forgiven not only for what he has done and thought but for that which will cause him to fall again in the future. His hell is made by himself and no one else.
The man's soul is laid bare on the floor and can be seen as clearly as a map might be viewed.
The tenor of his thoughts change as he moves from self pity and immolation[?] to raise his voice to life instead of the internalising of pain. Across the great vaulted cathedral his voice carries songs now of praise to the one who is crucified and as he sings out these ancient words his soul loses its darkness and begins to pulsate in light. He is troubled, tortured every day by his life and mind.
He prays now earnestly for souls in need and as he does so the light increases.
More than that I feel his prayers as they waft upwards and pass through me in the process. I seem to not only observe the man but to be the man looking down on himself from above although this is a scene played out in the mind of an individual.
Before I can examine that thought I am pulled forward over the light and on to another of the myriad of holes in this black plain, pulled on by my companion. We stop at many of the holes and at each one I look down to see a solitary person within a church setting praying for souls. The churches vary, the constructs of the individual mind altering the shape and dimensions but everywhere there is the crucified one.
Some holes seem larger than others and here I am able to glimpse groups and celebrants being caught up in a dialogue with and here my words fail me. I could write the crucified one but as we move across the plain I am becoming aware of something more than that something that transcends visual imagery and was never meant for words.
I have no words. I have searched my mind for anything that might come close. I know we loosely bandy about a certain word that contains little reality in its meaning. A vague abstract hopeless word. An abject failure of a word.
I can only say I experience otherness.
I think because I cannot express in words this experience of mine I am given visual images of things that I can relate to you in this tale. I am convinced these words are for you and while for just now this experience is for me and I think not prescriptive for all nevertheless I think you will as this reaches its end know that you too will make this journey one day albeit in a different way.
As we pass over the lights taking our time I feel a form of warmth, not physical but deeper than that a radiance of warmth and light seeping into every part of my being.
I notice my companion becomes clearer now, while wispy and always just out of sight or out of understanding would be more accurate nevertheless the presence is ever more solid, definitely outside me and no longer possibly an extension of my own being brought to life in this strange yet wonderful place.
I am not allowed to linger long in any one place but am gently pulled along pausing ever more briefly at each window of light.
I look and in all directions there are the lights piercing the darkness no matter how far I have travelled there is on no end in sight in any direction, no thinning of the light, no pattern that I can discern. I am moved on and on and on and the lightness of being increases. I feel less and less solid. I am sure when I look at my hand I can see light through it. My vision too is altering, shifting. I see more not less. I see things beyond human sight.
It becomes clear.
Clarity.
Sense.
A Note to Adam
Now Adam we have reached what I would call a seminal point in the tale and before I proceed further to the end I must tell you that before I left that plain, for leave it I did, I was taken to another hole that was different and in that hole I saw a vision of things to come. This has convinced me that all I experienced was not that of a madman or the effects of a drug induced trip of some kind, nor the ubiquitous but totally wrong tales of the white light at the end of the tunnel reported by those who have a near death experience. I am sure by the time you read this it will have been made quite clear that this is a hallucinatory experience created by a combination of a lack of oxygen, the release of certain chemicals into the bloodstream that easily cross the blood brain barrier. It is so important to me that you believe this not to have been like that.
Apart from anything else I have experienced this before I die or come to a so-called near death experience.
I can convince you however and only you of the veracity of the experience. Everyone else will both doubt and perhaps even question you and your sanity and if for example you ever tried to put these notebooks in the form of a book it will be seen as fiction or the workings of a deranged mind.
However it has been granted to me not only the ability to give you proof but also to tell you this tale for today as I write this I have felt a real assurance in my being that I will have strength, the physical strength to finish this tale before it is my time to die.
Few are given such assurance and why it has come to me I do not know.
The first proof given to me in the vision that I saw was the date and time of my death. I could see myself growing cold in my bed surrounded by tubes. On the wall it clearly tells me that this is 27th of October. I can also see the clock on the wall and it reads 11:15am. I never was good at getting up in the morning. Please forgive me my dark humour.
Here is the first proof you need. Is this the time and and date at which I died. Not the time given when a doctor pronounces me dead but the time on the wall when I actually die.
There is a second proof Adam but it is too soon to give it to you for if I tell it to you now there is the danger you will consciously or unconsciously make it be true and I would rather that you had not the slightest doubt in your mind that what I saw was true.
I would like if I felt I had the time to dwell on this whole experience and try and explain it to you or anticipate the questions you might want to ask once you are reading this. I am trying hard today to think if there are any that I can anticipate.
I imagine you might ask when and where and how this experience happened? Obviously you will have deduced from all that I have written that it took place before I died. Forgive me my dark humour I am in a strange mood today as I write my experience down. Filled with the black humour of gravediggers.
I am not sure how much of this I should tell you, while I know I am to write this down for you I am not sure if I am supposed to tell you the when and the where. I am going to take a break now as my arms grow weak and I need to lie down for awhile. When I come back I suspect I will know whether or not to tell you more of the how, when, where or simply proceed with my tale.
Forgive me if I do not return to this subject.
***
It has been a few days since I was last able to write and I have been thinking about telling you about this experience and how it came to be. If the tale I relate sounds bizarre then the telling of how it came to be will sound even more bizarre. However I am content in that I know that I have given you one proof of the day I that will die and at the end I will give you another proof that will assure of the veracity of my experience.
How do I begin?
I have no idea how long the experience lasted in terms of the way we measure time here on a day to day basis. Probably only an hour or perhaps a minute as I took no notice either when it began or when it ended. I don't think it can have lasted here on earth for very long or else someone would have commented on it in some way for my body, I assume, was inert during this experience. Although having said that I have a thought that I suppose I could have carried on as normal, after all it is such a strange event. One thing I can be sure of is that the experience was of a continuous nature. It didn't come to me in bits it was one long experience that as you will have read and understood by now took place over a long
period of time if we were to measure it by the ticking of the clock.
Clocks get us confused and make us think of time as linear something moving forward and not backwards and yet a clock encircles time and repeats itself. The whole concept of time is not so easy to understand. The fact that we experience it as moving forward moment by moment tricks us into thinking it is somehow a rock solid fact of life when in fact time is far more fluid than we think and then there is that which is outside time. If we are outside time altogether then we are not only in a different place but we can see time for what it is and see all that is and was and will be.
I was given no gift to see into the future, in this experience I was simply out of time altogether and able at certain points to see quite clearly the real nature of time and above all else see it all laid out before as something that had already happened if such a phrase is not in itself a contradiction.
I saw the date of my death and I saw the proof that lies at the end of this tale. Not in the future as some dim event but as surely as looking at photos in book. In fact that is a useful tool to explore. Imagine a book of photos, picture that as an analogy for time. You start at the beginning and move forward so that the now is the photo you are looking at and the photos you have seen are the past and those as yet to be viewed lie in the future. Now that is how you experience the book. Don't push this too far in your mind or it will break down as an analogy for I know you could open the book at any point and even read it backwards but for the moment suspend that thought and cast it aside. Now think about the creation of the book. In the process of editing the book all those photos were laid out on the floor in no semblance of order but could be seen all at once without reference to a time line imposed by the ordering of a book. It is the act of pulling it together and placing one after or before another that the book imposes its own ideas of time upon the reader.
This was how time was experienced by me in this tale. In the act of editing, where all was laid out before me to see before it was compiled into a book, before the decision was made to leave certain photos out of the book.
It was in this way I saw my own death not as view of the future but just as a picture if you will lying on a floor not arranged in any way at all, with no sense of time but an overall view of everything to do with my life and yours. Thus at the end, if I have understood all things I will offer up to you the concrete proof you will need to know that what I have written is the truth and nothing but the truth, as experienced by me which, is the only version of the truth I can give you. I am very very aware that truth of this kind can only be subjective and that what I experienced was filtered and altered and made sense of by my mind which only had experience as its building blocks to imagine and interpret events as they unfolded. I can vouch for no veracity in my descriptions but only tell you that this was the way I saw and understood them at the time. I cannot after all describe in our limited language set that which was beyond that limit and beyond even that of imagination so the experience had to be distilled into something I could make sense of and of course as it comes to you it passed through yet another filter and if as I suspect you might show this to others then of course they will filter it through their own mind set and in the end it will all get lost and become meaningless. I know however I have to tell you about this Adam. I have no idea why that I did not see but I did see you reading this so I know I have to write it, I am duty bound to fulfil that which was given to me during this experience and which I so inadequately am trying to pass on to you.
There is one other thing I have to tell you but not yet I think. Enough I feel has been written to give you the clues you need to wrap your head around these ideas. I will tell you as I present my proof when this took place which will be as confusing as anything I have told you so far and it is important that you grasp something of the nature of time that I have woefully tried to explain in this notebook. If I have failed you will see a conflict that will convince you this is untrue and messed up but if I have succeeded in passing on this idea of time to you and otherness then it will act more as proof. As for the outcome and your reaction to these words I have no insight for and I feel I must labour the point, I was not looking in to the future at any point but simply seeing photos laid out on a floor and then only a few as relate to this tale.
I fear I may have lost you in all of this, sadly my time here is running towards its end and I will have no opportunity to go back and edit what I have written and I am sure you will see apparent contradictions as my memory plays tricks on me and simply because in writing it rapidly I am sure I have made errors and mistakes. You will, I trust, having read this far understand why it was written in code. Should what I have written be seen by others they might well destroy it or think me mad. But I know this is sent forward in time as we experience it to you for a purpose I am unaware of and cannot even imagine.
My only plea if you ever do show this to others is tidy up my spelling and grammar as far as you are able or think it necessary for the tale to be told. Resist the urge to correct contradictions that might appear, these contradictions are as they are for reasons beyond your knowledge and mine. Simply let it be. Do not edit this to make it make sense to others. Leave it as my last testimony. Let others make of it what they will. It is not your concern to make them see what only I can see. If you choose to throw this into the fire/bin/shredder do so with a light heart for I place no burden on you or obligation, this must be dealt with as you see fit. I am happy in the knowledge that you will read this. I know this to be true. It is not a hope. It will be for you my final truth.
My only need is to pass this on to you. Let it go at that. The message is there for you.
Moving On
I saw.
I saw many things I fear I have no time or perhaps even permission to tell you about. My experience as I have said was not in any way part of time.
I saw and I knew and my companion seeing that I now knew let go of my fading hand and moved ahead of me and I now willingly followed with a growing sense of not being. I was passing through gaps in the fabric of the experience. We ascended from the plain, rising gently like feathers on a wind. During our journey upwards I noticed many changes had taken place. My body seemed to have little substance to it and most startlingly to me I realised I had ceased to breathe. There was just an absence of that rise and fall of my chest. I tried my voice and it carried out in place around me but sounded lighter like the tinkling of tiny bells. It was a strange sensation but one that held no fear at all as I felt myself being transformed. I could have gone in any direction. I still was free in my mind to do as I liked but all I wanted to do was to follow my strange companion who as we rose seemed to emit light. We continued our ascent and in time we passed away from the plain and the umbrella like ceiling. I don't know if we rose above or simply went beyond the plain but no laws of earthly physics applied here. We travelled for a long time, always against a backdrop of darkness. It wasn't darkness as in the absence of light, for light there was in plenty. Nevertheless it was dark, or perhaps it was black rather than dark. I'm not sure what to say or how to explain. I have even been for a cup of coffee just now as I had to pause to reflect on how to convey what this was like. I wasn't in the dark, it was more like a backdrop to the experience, like a curtain on a stage. Yet I have also to confess that wasn't quite like the experience. Was it more like being in a fog where you can see the fog but can never reach it, or like chasing rainbows? I am confused as no metaphor seems adequate. I don't want you to think that in anyway I was enclosed, rather I was in a place of vastness such as cannot be described. Even the word huge will not work. I cannot find an adequate word and yet even though I say huge doesn't work as it isn't big enough to convey that within which I moved nevertheless it was always intimate in the sense of a duvet clinging to your body in bed, tucked in and cosy. I wasn't moving through nothingness but was moving rather through a warm welcoming darkness. It was a place I would call Unknown.
While life as I understood it w
as absent in any form that does not mean it was desolate place of darkness rather the opposite I have never felt so much life around me. A palpable force seeping into and around my changing body. There was no sense of isolation or loneliness in fact I have never felt more surrounded by comfort and love and the presence of life. I even imagined I heard the occasional voice or voices coming at me from all sides. I must stress that however odd this may seem when you read this was a glorious and wonderful experience that grew stronger as we moved upwards and onwards. It was darkness but yet it was light, perhaps the brightest light I have ever known penetrating every layer of my body.
I felt a sense of being viscous, fluid, rippling as I moved through this place. I felt myself stretching out as though I was a wind blown cloud and my edges became blurred blending with the darkness around me, rippling.
As we rose upwards I became aware of some change ahead. If I may resort to earthly terms then below me was the plain and in the distance was a rising black vortex. If you can imagine looking at the swirling water of the bath tub emptying down the plug hole and imagine the bottom being attached to the plain. It didn't move or diminish or cause even a disturbance. Rather it just rose like an inverted cone spinning from the plain. As we moved closer it became ever clearer and yet I could sense nothing, only be aware that ahead there was a spinning black vortex. We began to circle it slowly and I noticed it had many layers and textures and spinning whorls within its structure. I was reminded of Saturn with its great storms raging constantly and its giant red spot. There was no colour here but nevertheless it was possible to discern these same kind of movements within this rising cone.
Inner Legacy Page 7