The Final Journey

This is an excerpt of the book Multidimensional Man, by Jurgen Ziewe. This book is a compilation of his many out-of-the-body-experiences. It gives an excellent overview of what the astral or spiritual realms are, how they relate to the consciousness of their inhabitants, and how we all create our own worlds. Highly recommended if you are interested in this topic.
The following excerpt is a marvelous description of the different spiritual worlds, layered one on top of the other, and how they reflect the consciousness and workings of their inhabitants, from the perspective of cosmic creation.

♥

The Final Journey

25th August 1980

I had a restless night with only patches of sleep. I got up very early, about half-past-four in the morning, and went into my studio intending to meditate in order to go back to bed to catch up with some much needed sleep. Meditation was great for this. Not only did it relax me, but I had discovered that it could initiate a drowsy dreamlike state, which felt very wholesome and enjoyable. I would then almost sleepwalk back to my bed with my eyes hardly open and sink instantly into a deep, blissful sleep.
But I wasn’t tired at all. I looked at some of the paintings I had produced during the previous weeks. One in particular caught my attention. It was abstract, four feet by three feet, created with broad free brush strokes. I always strived as best as I could to destroy any emergence of pictorial imagery in the painting in order to remain purely abstract and I thought I had succeeded with this work. But I hadn’t. Now it was like I was looking through the gaps of a half-open curtain into another world. True, there were no pictorial elements, but the painting was anything but abstract. It was an unworldly landscape cast in pink and blue lights. The feelings this evoked startled me. I was looking at something I had never seen before. Only once before had I experienced something similar: when I looked at a painting by Mark Rothko; but that was on a quite different level. This went far, far deeper, probably because it was my painting.
Finally, I closed my eyes and began to meditate. Then I must have fallen asleep.
In my dream I was walking with a small group of people through wild countryside. The colours were rich and vivid. Abundant moss covered huge fallen trees and it was as if I was walking through a painting by the German romantic artist Caspar David Friedrich, or a film set for The Lord of the Rings (which, of course, is my view from hindsight).
Gradually the scene began to change until we came to a halt in front of a huge incongruous piece of architecture blocking our path. In fact, its presence was so monstrous in its monotony that I wondered what freakish power had put it here. It was so out of character with the environment that I realised at once that I was in a dream. I paused to let the realisation sink in until I had establish full waking consciousness. The people I had been with were no longer there. I was on my own.
Out of curiosity I entered the building. I was aware more than ever that in this world objects had little function other than to serve as symbols, signposts or challenges. This was the world of mind-over-matter rather than matter-over-mind. Contemplating its significance, I entered the building and found myself in a gigantic hall. At the very centre was a large spiral staircase that went so high that I could hardly see the top.
Without further delay I walked up the staircase and soon drifted rapidly towards the very top, just under the roof. Here the stairs came to an inexplicable stop. There was no door, no window – not even a hatch. I knew instinctively that in order to get out of the building and onto a higher level I had to break through the roof.
With my bare fists I started punching a large hole into the roof. Big chunks fell out of it as if it was made from porous plasterboard.
Finally, I climbed through the hole in the ceiling and onto a platform. To my surprise I found myself in open countryside groups of trees on either side, only to realise with awe that I was ii interior of a still larger hall, enclosing the whole country surrounding me.
I recalled my battles against the ceiling obstacle in the past and I began to wonder whether I was again embarking on a fruitless effort to fight against these formidable barriers. Nevertheless, I wanted to out, so I soared high through the hall until I reached the ceiling. I admired the beautiful and intricate plasterwork, reminiscent of ancient temple designs, with gigantic, exquisite floral patterns. Yet this was of little interest to me and I hacked my way through the ceiling with disregard for its artist. Then, climbing onto the roof, I found m, surrounded by glorious countryside. Pondering my adventure, I looked into the sky and found to my astonishment that it was or with gigantic intricate swirls and patterns. Then I realised that it the inside of a huge dome, the roof of yet another gigantic hall, miles in diameter but an enclosed space nevertheless.
Instead of getting annoyed I sat down and thought about experience – not just that I had been ascending through various domes, but the stupendous and much more profound fact that my personality, my life – my whole being – was by now fully transfered into different reality. Admittedly, this always happened whenever I first realised I was conscious in another world while my body was still asleep, this felt different. It was as if I had uprooted and relocated for ood. There was no urgency at all to go back to my body and the possibility dawned on me that I may have become a resident here on a permanent basis. On the other hand I still had a vague link to another we which was taking care of my sleeping body. I knew I could recon with it simply by shifting my attention, but this was not on my age now. I was more puzzled by the strange mystery of the experience its overwhelming reality.
I figured that I was surrounded by mere symbols and yet symbols looked as real as buildings back on Earth. I was astonishes how my mind dealt with the phenomena of multidimensional reality. It had no way of conceiving the reality of this experience other than by translating it into comprehensible symbols of stacked rooms. There was wisdom in the way these mysterious forces guided me onwards through unknown territory using signposts I could understand.
I felt no desire to rush back to my body. My presence in this world was fully established, and there was no need to worry about being interrupted. I might just as well have been in another country, physically – it felt so real.
The great clarity of my wakefulness and the superb power of focus I was endowed with made me realise that I was on the verge of a great discovery, of conquering new dimensions, which had been inaccessible until now. Fate, or whatever else it was, had endowed me with this luxurious waking consciousness in this nonphysical world, and it was a great blessing. All I had to do now was proceed with determination and focus.
With these insights I rose again into the air like a balloon until I passed through yet another ornate ceiling. This time I didn’t even have to use ‘physical’ force but passed straight into another massive hall, filling me with excitement and expectation. The light in this space was far brighter and came from all around me.
The feeling was much more uplifting and I was carried on a stream of energy, which pulled me onwards like a giant magnet, higher and higher towards a ceiling, which dissolved before I even got close.
This was extraordinary. The atmosphere was much brighter still than before, more penetrating and yet very subtle, reaching into every atom of my being. I began to feel uncomfortable. It was like coming in from the cold into to a warm room, still wearing a heavy coat.
It became unbearable. Something had to give. I was no longer a cohesive entity. I was conscious that my body was being unrelentingly pulled apart atom by atom. The old molecules, which had made me what I thought of as myself, wanted to resist, seeking some snug shelter somewhere in a darker region no longer reachable. I felt like a condemned man, dying a nonphysical death. But in the end it was only my resistance which had to perish. Letting go of my attachment to my novel costume – my body, which I had been wearing for millennia – was in fact a great liberation. This was the individual which had clung to my physical disguises time and time again, exchanged for a new one whenever the old one was worn out. I was keen to take a look at the vast spectrum of these veils – an endless chain of lives, paraded in millions of images in front of my disembodied eyes.
The process began to feel joyful once I understood not to cling on to the old heavy matter of my body and the burden of the past. Whatever the forces were that ripped me apart, they did so not because they wanted to destroy me, but out of love, pure and unconditional. They wanted me to join them, become part of them, so I could enter their native realm.
There was no turning back. It was as if I was pulled by invisible strings, all eager to call me home. This was accompanied by a sweet and beckoning sound, which evolved into a choir of enchanting sound, with voices so sweet that there was no way I could have resisted.
I left behind all that I had valued so much, which was really little more than idle games played with childlike earnestness, and dreams indulged in and lifetimes struggling in search of happiness.
With my new pair of eyes I became accustomed to my new surroundings as if I was coming into sunlight for the first time after being trapped in a dark dungeon for years.
Before me a sea of pleasure opened in warm sparkling waves and a disembodied soprano voice urged me to plunge my heart and soul into this open ocean.
I was not alone. There were millions like myself, sparkling orbs, the souls of others, bobbing along on a vast expanse of coloured light, attached to sparkling filaments fused to a living counterpart down below in some distant darkness.
Whatever their blind and ignorant physical counterparts were up to, indulging in meanness or basking in love, their lights up here were barely affected by what went on below.
After the ecstatic storm of my transformation had passed, there was peace. It was like a gathering of my new critical faculties; a calibrating of my new instruments of perception. I soon forgot everything I had learned in the limited world of Earth and began to prepare myself for a totally new cognitive experience. I was not in a place or in a time any longer, or in any form; instead, I was everywhere simultaneously, except there wasn’t a ‘where’ at all. There was just I.
Yet I was also aware of another presence, which had been with me all this time. I still couldn’t see it, only knew that it was beside me. It was like another me, watching, guarding and guiding.
I thought my journey had ended – I’d reached a unity which gave me a great peace and a clarity of mind, which I drank eagerly. I had returned from an endless, exhausting voyage, and now it was my time to rest. I was home at last.

Thoughts and belief systems
The journey continuing
This was not home for very long. I heard a roll of thunder and the air around me began to vibrate. On all sides, shapes started to emerge out of the light. I noticed that I was standing in the centre of a gigantic six-pointed pattern, which rose up around my feet to form a massive, immensely intricate flower reminiscent of a magnolia. It spread out in all directions and as it grew it elevated me to dizzying heights, and before I knew it I was staring down into the infinite depth of space. But this expanse was not black like our Earth’s universe, it was lit by myriad spellbinding objects.
Thoughts are curious things, made out of words. Within our physical brains they appear to be abstract things, attached to objects, which in themselves have no substance whatsoever and are strung together by recollections of meanings. In a sense we are their creators and with them we form worlds around us. Until now I hadn’t realised that here they were living ‘physical’ realities.
For a while now I had been aware of a beautiful entity, like breath unformed, attached to me with gentle hands, giving me a thrill which pulsated through my new body. The moment I became aware of it, it detached and unfolded in front of me like an enormous bloom.
It was love.
And now it had become a thought, a detached object I could observe objectively. Its inner life had taken on the pulsating power I had felt earlier, and it spread out and unfolded in the space before me as a large symmetrical flower. A breath ago it was just a bud, but now it opened into even fuller bloom as I pondered its secret. It was evolving continuously, drawing its life force seemingly from my attention. From its centre, incredibly elegant blooms unfolded on spiraling stems and pirouetted around one another in a joyful dance. The moment they touched they merged and showers of golden dust exploded and other blooms were spawned, even more beautiful than before. This in turn initiated a whole generation of blossoms to emerge, forever varying and evolving in abundance. At the centre of the blossom a core appeared like a fruit and evolved into an organic shrine opening its walls, with blooms sprouting around its entrance beckoning me to enter, to rejoin and merge with the love which was so much part of me before.
But I was too distracted to enter, as an endless armada of giant thought shapes was drifting in front of me, each vying for my attention. I could pick on any shape at will and its living reality surrounded me on all sides and offered me its inner secret. Some were gigantic structures, alien and complex and of beguiling mystery and beauty.
Their textures, design and character differed tremendously from thought form to thought form, as did their colours and sounds. It was only too easy to be seduced by any of these shapes and to apprehend their inner meaning. They liked nothing more than attention and drew their sustenance from it. They were animated by a quest for expansion, grabbing sympathetic energy in their path like greedy exotic sea creatures. They wove their way around alien matter, growing as they grazed on the energies being sent towards them by orbs of light.
Some of them formed colonies covering large territories. I saw the formation of whole ideologies and theories, creating complex worlds within themselves. From up here I could see countless belief systems as incredibly complex shapes. I saw that once immersed in any of those structures the perspective of the world changed for good. The centre of the thought felt like the centre of the universe itself. It was difficult to argue against them, each vying for space and attention.
How easy it seemed for people to become seduced and ensnared by these grand designs. The sheer presence of them, how each thought provided refuge, belonging and identity, because beyond them appeared to be nothing but dark and empty space. How many people, I thought, understand that they have the power to rise above and observe these thoughts for what they are: temporary resting places, no more than inventions, giving us the illusion that we are in control. And yet they were as fleeting as clouds. When my interest waned and attention withdrew, they withered away into nothingness.
I was fascinated by this powerful display. The passions and energies invested in them made them shine and stand out like grand edifices, singing the glory of their creators, many of them hypnotised by their beauty and artistic perfection.
Occasionally, majestic structures drifted through my field of vision with great authority, rolling slowly through the vast deep space like gigantic alien star ships, so vast that I could barely see where they finished. Millions of orbs were attached to them, attracted by their sheer size and presence, enjoying the ride and the company of fellow crew members. It was driven by a powerful engine at its centre, which was nothing less then a gigantic star, sitting at the top of a magnificent dome for everyone to see. Inside the dome, millions worshipped it like their God.
Another big spaceship caught my attention. This one had the cool beauty of complex geometric ornamentation, joined together skillfully by billions of intricate patterns and shapes like crystals, arranged ingeniously to perfection. When looking for its mode of propulsion, I saw that huge blue orbs of light were its energy source, pulling it along, mining knowledge from the deep mysterious space surrounding it. In its wake it created new geometric shapes, which were harvested eagerly and absorbed into the structure of the gigantic ship. Any other forms it encountered were probed with purpose and curiosity. Occasionally it unearthed gigantic treasures, which reverberated and reconfigured the ship’s design and greatly increased its power. Its great authority was undeniable, because it was multidimensionally expanding, both laterally and vertically, sending its beneficial energies into the worlds below. Awestruck by its precision, its clear-cut beauty and perfect design, I watched its slow, but unrelenting progress and admired the scientific ingenuity of our species to create such grand structures. Its charisma was one of rationality and reason, cool and measured.
There were millions of such shapes. Some small but evolving and growing, others lumbering and fading into the ocean of billions of thoughts that burst into life, clustering around each other like living
creatures. This was an enormous world, a whole universe in itself – the creation of man: Gods and creators in our own right.
Whereas on Earth my attention could explore each thought only sequentially, here, from a dimension above, freed from the linear programming of the physical brain, I could read each structure in its entirety instantly, simultaneously appreciating its substance and essence. It was impossible not to marvel at these magnificent edifices, their monumental construction and seductive three-dimensional pattern of beguiling symmetry, colour and proportions, woven together with celestial craftsmanship, radiating out from their mysterious centres.
Here on this level, thinking was no longer an effort but an immense pleasure of observation and detached contemplation, which made it easy to observe the limitations of thoughts themselves. From up here I had a perfect viewpoint. I could zoom in to them and absorb them instantly in their essence.
I was in philosopher’s paradise. The world of human mind. The heaven of inventors, artists, mathematicians, scientists and religious believers.
I felt great freedom in the exploration. Each structure had a reason to be and to exist, just like any other creature in the world; they were products of our species, borne out of need and the desire for knowledge and understanding. They were the songs of our thirsting souls.

The infinite vistas of paradise
The journey unfolds
A gentle voice, which I at first mistook for a song, whispered into my ear and prised me from my contemplation.
“Look upon this playground of the mind. I dare you not to be seduced by it. In all your dreams you won’t find greater amusement than this.”
This gentle voice was posing a question and was attempting, by its very gentleness, to demolish the world I had began to admire so much for its sheer grandiosity. The imperfections of what I saw began to lose their power to seduce. I felt sorry for my fellow souls, who were trapped in them, forever seeking comfort and identity. I could see clearly how passionately they would defend their positions, arguing their point of reality – they would even go to war for it. I studied their irreconcilable differences of frequencies and character. Often their authority was taken only from their size, sometimes from the beauty of their design. It was clear that there could be no clear winner. All their passengers were attached to their systems rather than the reality of their own individual being.
I felt a rush of wind, as if I was flying through the air at great speed, but I was not moving. I heard distant thunder. The world around me began to shift and I wondered what other sights lay in store for me. The wind was actually a familiar voice whispering gently into my ear. I could not tell the words – it was a different language, not human. But somehow I had the impression of what it meant: it was announcing that I should prepare myself to visit the penultimate dream of all humanity.
The thunder was accompanied by electrical activity around me. With a thrill I felt the huge lotus flower underneath me growing rapidly, spreading out in every direction until it formed the shell of an enormous celestial structure, large enough to contain the whole universe. I had taken residency inside a grand cosmic temple. The walls were made out of liquid light, continually solidifying and transforming into new precious materials, beaming with ever changing patterns. I could see at once where the architects of the great mosques on earth had received their inspiration from.
In every direction was an entrance or an exit, yet each tantalisingly close by. Through each gigantic portal I could glance into the vast vistas of different heavens, infinite landscapes lining the many avenues leading out through the gates. Each route out of this cathedral was a highway into another heaven, lined by magnificent arches as if to glorify the approach.
The walls of this enormous edifice were cycling through precious materials, casting off energies in the forms of light and patterns of alternating complexities, like a giant exotic sea creature. The temple, if this word is at all appropriate, was alive and was illuminated by countless little orbs like myself. They sparkled in different colours and permutations of expression, some bright, some calm and sedate, but each one individual. Streams of them migrated joyfully through the vast gates to disappear into their heavens. On closer inspection, I saw that most of them were still attached to shapes which they had claimed for themselves in their own worlds, fascinated by their power and drawing strength from them. It were these thought forms they were still attached to, which would determine the nature of the heaven they would enter. It was clear to me that from each orb’s point of view they must have felt that they alone formed the centre of this sheer endless place, and that their chosen heaven was the true destiny for every other person on Earth. It was easy to see why, because each formed the centre from which the cosmic lotus flower radiated out, and each formed the petal of the adjacent one so that the whole merged into an infinite tapestry.
“Humans find their identities here. They spin their webs of philosophies, religions and beliefs. Some get caught in it like a fly in a spider’s web; some use it to spin their dreams and spend many lifetimes to unravel and fulfill them.” The voice whispered to me.
But my attention had already wandered towards one of those hovering portals. The temptation to explore one of these vistas was overwhelming. The mere thought was enough to overpower me, and I entered one of the irresistible tunnels, which was huge and bright, and lined with impressive columns on either side, and above and below. Peering through the columns as I travelled along, I saw the scenery spread out infinitely and I could have taken any of those side opening pathways and entered a new heaven of staggering diversity and wonder. People here could spent eternity exploring these fantastic heavenly universes, experiencing their never-ending joys and freedoms, not getting tired or bored for a single moment.
I found myself accelerating through the vaulted tunnels. Occasionally, I drifted past hosts of heavenly creatures like schools of fish, rejoicing in song. On all sides new realms opened up like galaxies. I glanced into openings into other worlds, each one as vast as the one I travelled through, promising unimaginable pleasures. I was lured from all sides by fine soprano voices, which combined with all the other joyous songs creating a complete symphony. It was surely here, I mused, that our great Earthly composers received their inspiration.
But I sailed straight on, past all of these temptations, which could not satisfy my hope that there was something more profound than this.
Suddenly there was a pull from another direction. It was I, myself. I realised that I had been seduced by a dream, a mere wish, which was only a thought, a possibility, and that reality was far more than this. I was back in the temple. The voice spoke to me again, softly, gently, as if not to disturb my contemplation.
“You are right. This world is a grand illusion, put in your path to trick you – to keep you fascinated and imprisoned as a limited being. Yet to many people on Earth what you’ve just seen is the dream of all dreams come true, the heaven of all heavens. And indeed, compared to life on the dense Earth, this truly is paradise, where people spend millennia exploring the vast scope and vistas of heaven and its joys.”
The voice now sounded more human and very close by. I was being guided by a very old friend, who faded in and out of my vision. One moment it was a brilliant orb of light and the next a beautiful face materialised, sculpted by a serene sense of humor, boundless compassion and love. Then it faded again, revealing itself as a presence, extending and merging with the surrounding world.
The stillness and peace that followed was an indication that something was going to happen. Then I noticed that the silence was not silence at all, but was a sound I had had no facility to hear before. A deep boom gave me to understand immediately that all I had seen so far was child’s play, that it was time to wake up out of my dream and embrace reality.

The inner core of reality
Same event continuing
Until now we have been dealing with dimensions, which, although difficult to describe or imagine, are still within the realms of our human experience, a mental realm. The difficulty we are faced with in reaching into the dimensions beyond are that we are leaving the realms of knowledge, imagination, thinking and understanding. In short, description is simply impossible, because we are dealing with consciousness that transcends our human experience. Until now, conventional thinking has served us well as part of our evolutional development. We have learned to refine it to such a degree that we are able to manifest the most sublime concepts of our intellect and weave structures of incredible complexities resulting in the most fascinating and uplifting earthly and mental heavens imaginable. To reach beyond all this the mind is nothing but a burden and an obstacle. In order to get close to our true nature, all form of thought must perish, and with it our identity as limited human entities. In its place a new illuminated mind takes up position. At the basis of all conventional thinking is an awareness of the finite. Our mind is simply incapable of comprehending anything outside its own nature. Although we may have words for it like eternity, infinity, God, universal consciousness and their like, they will never provide a true insight into states of consciousness which go beyond thinking. This is the very reason why the Buddha is silent. This should not distract us from the fact that this is a natural state of consciousness which lies at the heart of all of us, in our innermost being. As such it can be called upon by way of attention. And we don’t have to be great sages to claim our natural heritage as the following experience will illustrate.
The difficulty though remains, it is almost impossible to convey something that is beyond thoughts, word and our general means of communication. In order to convey the experience all I am left with are a roundabout descriptions of symptoms, residues I was left with and it is only these I can convey. This is as far as I can go.
The presence near me reassured me that I was safe, but that I was embarking on a new dimension altogether for which there was no precedence. The sound I heard was like the OM, I had used it in the past while out of my body and now I realised why it had always had such a powerful effect. But this was far, far more. It was the sound itself making the sound, which was itself.
What happened next was to challenge my human comprehension to its limits.
This was in unknown territory. I relied on the presence – which was not human, yet like an old friend, a mother and father combined -to guide me. It was an incredibly intimate experience, and I was aware of it in my soul. I felt trust, absolute and unconditional – so much so that I offered myself in total surrender to the presence.
The world around me faded. The sound transmuted into the breaking surf of ocean waves.
It was born.
I stood on the shores of a vast and glorious ocean.
Real ocean waves are made of atoms and light, this ocean was just pure light in essence – as was the sandy beach; and the waves came rolling in towards me as gigantic mountains of crashing light, overwhelming me completely.
But to put it like this is to do it a tremendous injustice, because words cannot describe the transformation which took place inside me as these energies burst into creation and into life, submerging and dissolving me in the process. But these are the limits of my words, and you, the reader, will have to search deep within yourself to perhaps recall the distant memory when you too bathed in the water of life -before you were born into earthly existence.
There was no fear, because there was only light, and the waves that rolled towards me crashed through me, lifting me into an unknown ecstasy. There was no letting up: wave after wave rolled over me and when I thought I could stand no more a greater joy swallowed me up and carried me with it into lands of bliss.
But as I said, this was not a place for words. Words belong to a far lower level of consciousness than even thought, and I had left thoughts long behind in a universe which appeared now like dense darkness of ignorance in comparison to this. Thoughts are simply of a nature too gross, I realised – too coarse to touch the fabric of the matter tearing and hammering at my soul. There were universes upon universes, each one created by a crashing wave and each one ripped away and destroyed by the next. There was no repetition of universes; everything was new at every moment.
I then realised that everything that had happened was a process of purification of cosmic proportions. When the tide ebbed away there was immense peace. Nothing stirred, nothing interrupted it. Until now I had always been aware in my life of potentiality. This was potential realised to perfection. But there was far far more. All stress, all need and want had gone, everything I had strived for had found fulfillment. Whatever I wanted lay there before me in its absolute essence, in total stillness and emptiness combined. But again, of course, the word emptiness is wrong. I had ceased to be. This was unformed, an unmanifested thrill. Until now I had been bathed in something which could be understood as the cradle or essence of love, but this was far beyond that. It was a super-dimension of choice-less love, which was as clear as crystal. All remotely human feelings had been stripped from it and replenished with utter purity. It was pure intelligence, pure consciousness. It was reality in essence.
I knew everything, because I was everything. No instrument of knowledge was needed, because all instrumentality was my own creation. No creation was necessary.
“I am what I am.”
“I am.”
I am all. Everyone of us can make these statements. We, as a species, are at the heart of creation in essence.
Being is at the heart of reality throughout all dimensions and is contained in every moment. It is here in its essence to be recalled at a moment’s notice, no matter where we are, because it is the very blood in our veins.
Here, stripped of all that I called myself, I was at the heart of nature at its most powerful, most quintessential. I was omniscient, omnipresent and infinite. The instant a question was raised, my universal mind had it answered on a level unheard of, guided by a universal wisdom, purpose and plan.
When scientists finally probe into the last remaining mystery of the universe, this is what they will find and nothing will translate into mathematics, formulas or concepts. All this is vanity.
What is life? A thin membrane stretched over a river of ecstasy. Once pierced your life will never be the same.
I dared to raise a question.
“What is to become of me, the creator?”
Just when I thought there could be no answer to my question, I heard new sounds rising from the stillness, like flutes opening a white infinite space before me with shapes and possibilities undefined. An invitation to manifest within realms unknown, with adventures still unrealised and untold.
“This is reality and truth. Man’s true evolution begins here, in pure clarity, free of all illusion. The future path of man’s destiny starts here, now, to enter dimensions yet incomprehensible and inaccessible, because man still carries the burden of his animal evolution and instincts to survive in a limited world. A few have stormed ahead to scout the way, to fathom what lies beyond.”
I knew I was only at the outer edges of creation and that beyond waited dimensions too far beyond our human state of evolution.
I could travel no further, because this was my true home. I was rocking gently to and fro to a celestial symphony, resting like a baby in its mother’s arms, in total trust and surrender, listening to the heartbeat of creation, which rolled through me in waves of ecstasy. I felt I could take no more and feared that if I stayed on I would surrender my very consciousness and lose myself in the infinite ocean of pure joy.
I did not want this. I had worked for many years to attain Samadhi and when it came I was unprepared. I had to return.
I cannot say how long I was in this region. I felt sanctified. Everything about and around me was beautified. I felt whole and holiness was a word which had attained its true meaning for me now.
When I came round I was sitting on a bench in a large hall, still not in my physical body. My face rested in my hands. I was in a state of recovery, adjustment. My body convulsed with the aftereffects of this experience. I tried to control them and get a grip of the thing I called myself, a curious entity thrown together with molecules and atoms mined from eternity and infinity and endowed with a unit of consciousness which could call itself “me”. Now it was dressed again in ideas, protecting itself for whatever reason from the light of truth.
I am. But what was this ‘I am’, separated from its true reality. It was nothing but a thought, a dream, an illusion.
I became gradually aware of my surroundings and noticed a man sitting on another bench not far from me. He looked vaguely familiar, but I could not place him.
“Have you been through that door?” he asked, pointing at a magnificent entrance to some other room. “You could not have,” he said then, answering his own question. “I have been sitting and waiting here for years and years. You are not that advanced to go through that door.”
Multidimensional Man
I had little idea what he was talking about, but I guessed he meant the dimension I had just returned from, that heavenly realm he had been waiting to get into for so long.
I looked at him. I had nothing to reply with – no words to say or think with. I still saw what I had seen behind my eyes and my heart was struggling to adjust, still reeling in the aftermath of such bliss. There was nobody to convince, no tales to be told, no witness to bring forward. I knew that it was pointless to talk about it. I felt sorry for all those who may have tried, who fell victim to being misunderstood, their listeners mistaking them for saints, turning them into prophets and holy men. I wanted nothing to do with this and had no interest in convincing anybody. That which pulsated through my veins pulsated through everybody’s. Each one of us is, in that regard, a saint, sanctified; each one of us is blessed by our great heritage. I took peace and comfort in the fact that I was like everyone else.
When I looked at the man in front of me I wanted to say, “Don’t wait and don’t try; you are already there.”
He looked at me. Then I noticed other people, a group crowding around me, but it wasn’t me they were crowding around – it was a man by my side, who I recognised as a master and a friend. It was he who had been with me and had escorted me into the dimension I had just returned from.
He turned towards me and said chirpily: “Its time to go. Say goodbye to the chappy with the great golden key.”
I burst out laughing, because I realised he was referring to the mythological keeper of Heaven’s Gate, St. Peter of the Christian faith. I was happy to be human again.
Other people in the group were laughing and making flippant, disrespectful, human comments. The great master made me appreciate how natural it was to enter into such a state.
As our group went through the great hall we passed gigantic tapestries. This was a true palace with huge arched ceilings and marbled floors and walls, but of such abundance and craftsmanship that they could only be fashioned in thought. People of our group were pointing and talking. After a while we passed enormous windows and I looked out into wide open country. We descended many flights of stairs. The master asked questions, but I was still too preoccupied with what I had seen to pay much attention to them. The next time I looked out of the window I saw a sky covered with silver cloud. The atmosphere had become distinctly Earthly. I could see numerous rivers snaking across the countryside, and many people working. I saw bulldozers and bizarre heavy machinery and wondered about the meaning of it all.
The master noticed my puzzlement. He asked if I could explain what I was seeing.
I said, “Judging by the clouds and the light in the sky and the use of such heavy machinery, I’d say we must be on a dimension very close to our Earth.” The master laughed approvingly. It was strange that despite his familiarity and friendliness I could not work out where I knew him from.
Finally, we exited the building and the group dispersed. I watched the workmen having fun with their equipment by staging play fights, clashing their diggers against each other, yelling and laughing like schoolboys.
I knew it was time to go back to my own familiar territory. I spent a few moments running through the events, knowing that without impressing them on my brain all I had experienced would be lost.

When I woke up I was slumped over in my chair. I ran once again through the events, without moving a muscle. The inside of my head felt like a brightly illuminated hall. I sat in total peace, reliving it all. There was a strong light right at the top of my skull. I smirked when the thought of a cartoon light bulb slipped into my mind. ‘To see the light’ is an expression we all take for granted, but why don’t we remember what the light is? I relished the fact that what I had seen was real, not a dream.
Finally, I got up out of my chair. It was just after eight in the morning. Julia was still asleep, and she looked very peaceful. I peeked into my little daughter’s room, where she lay nestled up in her cot.
What a miracle creation is, I thought.
I made tea. I got dressed. I felt different.
There was a presence with me, which I had carried back into my world from that other dimension. It showed there was continuity to life, which spans all levels of consciousness. The presence was with me as I left the house, when I crossed the road and walked to the nearby cricket ground. When I acknowledged the presence with a smile, it smiled back at me tenfold. I felt warmth and affection for it, and it responded with overwhelming love. I felt privileged to be have been chosen to be alive, to continue to be allowed to live in a universe of such splendor. The presence was with me like a silent companion. It watched my every step. It walked with me and everywhere I looked I saw it. It confirmed its reality. Every humble tree or object I looked at told me that it was true.
The world had a wonderful symmetry. The songs of the birds blended harmoniously with the noise of a passing car and the slight breeze rustling the branches of the trees. My eyes naturally picked out repeating pattern on the tarmac of the path in front of me, reassembling it like a Persian carpet. This is a beautiful place, I thought, and as humans we are chosen to share it with its creator.
Alas, our physical brain is a powerful organ, rooted firmly in our three-dimensional world. However lofty our experiences, they cannot stand their ground in the harsh light of man-made reality, and soon my journal entry was filed under ‘Extraordinary Experiences’ and left there for twenty-five years. It took all this time and regular deep meditation to coax this presence subtly and gradually back into my life as a silent reality.

finaljourney

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2 Responses to The Final Journey

  1. Pingback: The Final Journey | Cosmick Traveler

  2. Pingback: The Final Journey | Cosmick Traveler

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