Angel Lady

I encountered my first “angel” sometime in the summer of 1995 or 1996 in the town of Zamora. I had recently joined the local volunteer fire department and was still quite nervous about going to automobile accidents for fear that I would do something wrong and hurt someone. Actually, “nervous” is an understatement, “terrified” is closer to the truth.

One day I got a call on my fire department pager in the middle of the day notifying me that there had been an accident on one of the main county roads just outside of town.  I quickly put on my “turnouts” and rushed off to the call, but came upon the accident before I managed to get to the fire department.  I parked my car and went to see what I could do.  The accident was a very serious one where a small car had been hit in the driver’s side door by the pickup end of a harrow bed.  A harrow bed is basically a large trucks based machine that is used to pickup and stack bales of hay from the fields.  It has a long “scoop” device that sticks out the front of the vehicle.  The scoop moves up and down so that it can slide under a bail, picking it up off of the ground.  The bail is then placed onto a conveyor belt that moves it toward the rear of the vehicle where it is automatically stacked.  Since harrow beds are built on truck chassis, they travel on normal roads at highway speeds when going from field to field during the haying season.  One of these machines had hit the driver’s door of a small, hatch-backed car, sticking the scoop part into the driver’s space.

The driver of the car had pulled out in front of the harrow bed at an intersection, and the scoop device crashed through the door, crushing the driver to the right side, pressing her down into the lap of the passenger.  The mangled door and intruding scoop device held her down in a bent over, sideways position. Our problem was to safely and quickly get the driver and the passenger out of the car.  The car was so crushed that both of the ladies in the car were trapped, and the driver was obviously very seriously injured with massive head and torso injuries.  The scoop end of the harrow bed was intertwined with the wreckage, and had lifted the front portion of the car off of the ground.  This event happened before the department owned a “jaws of life” device, so extrication had to be done with hammers, axes, saws, bars or whatever was available.  My job was to get inside of the car next to the women, calming them as much as possible, hold a tarp over them to protect them from broken glass, and do whatever I could to help them medically. 

The three of us ended up in a very tight position in the front seats.  We were covered up so we couldn’t see what was happening outside, but we could hear and feel the banging and twisting of metal as the firemen worked at opening enough space to pull the women free from the wreckage.  It was pretty disorienting and rather frightening being unable to see out, while being so close to the victims.  The passenger did not seem to have a medical emergency, but was very hysterical.  She was screaming, crying and calling for her friend.  Her friend’s head was smashed into her lap so she couldn’t move.  Her friend was clearly in extremely serious danger, she was unconscious, bent in ways that are impossible for a normal person, and was bleeding out of her head, mouth and ears.  Blood was pooling in the passenger’s lap.  While it was clear that this was an emergency situation, there was nothing that I, nor anyone else, could do to help the driver because of the position of her body, the passenger, and the tangled mess of metal surrounding her.  All that I could do was try to calm the passenger and hold my hands on the driver’s head in a futile gesture of compassion. 

I quickly found myself enveloped in a very strange feeling of love and compassion.  It felt like the three of us had been somehow transported into a new dimension where we were in a bubble, separate from the rest of the world.  The passenger calmed down and it just felt like we were somehow outside of time with the three of us joined together in a single energy field. 

After some time passed (I have no idea how long it was), the passenger asked me about her daughter.  This took me by surprise because as far as I knew, there were only two people in the accident.  I asked her what she was talking about and she told me that her young daughter was in the back seat of the car.  I looked back there and found there was no back seat!  It had been ripped loose.  The car was crushed and mangled, but there was nobody else in the car.  I had the thought that the daughter must have been thrown out of the car and was lying injured in a ditch somewhere, unattended because we didn’t know of her presence.

I decided to get out of the car and go find the little girl.  As I started to do so, I came face to face with a very nice looking lady in her late twenties or early thirties.  She put up her hand to stop me and very forcefully said that I needed to stay where I was, that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and that the little girl was uninjured.  She said that she was the girl’s guardian angel and had taken the girl out of the car following the accident.   She told me that she had taken the girl to a nearby parking lot and was helping her. She also said that my job was to stay with the mother and the driver, her job was to look after the little girl.  For some odd reason, I was convinced at that moment that she was just what she claimed to be (an angel), and that her directions were to be followed.  I returned to my job of holding the energy and light within the vehicle.

The other firemen finally got enough of the vehicle untangled and torn apart to be able to slide the driver out from under the steering wheel.  I helped pull the passenger out of the car and place her on a gurney.  I then returned to help extricate the driver.  The first task I had to do was to reach through the passenger side door, lying over the driver in order to get her feet to move them out from under the pedals.  The EMT person who was helping told me to help pull and lift her out, but warned me that when we pulled on the girl (the driver) we would probably pull her in half and she would die immediately!  My mind’s eye raced to the vision of seeing the girl’s guts and blood spill out as we tried to pull her free.  This image just about did me in, but somehow I stayed steady and calm.   Happily, the girl stayed in one piece and we were able to get her onto another gurney, perform some emergency procedures on her, and place her into a waiting ambulance. 

The passenger was once again screaming and crying in hysteria.  She wanted to see her daughter and wanted her friend to not die.  I told her that I would get her daughter for her, but that she had to become strong for her daughter, she couldn’t be screaming and hysterical or it would hurt her daughter.  I held her hands and she finally calmed herself, and I went to get the daughter.  I found her easily, but the lady that I had talked to was nowhere to be found.  A few neighbors were taking care of the little girl, but no angels were visible.

Once they were taken away by the ambulances, we heard nothing more about the two young women.  I wanted feedback from the hospital concerning their condition, but that was not available.

For the next few days I kept having very uneasy feelings about the driver.  My mind kept going back to her, drawn somehow not so much by the image of that day, but by her in the hospital.  I assumed that it was just that I was still in the drama/trauma of the event.  About a week later I was sitting in meditation in the early morning as the sun came up in the east.  I felt strongly drawn to the image of the driver, who was in the hospital 30 or so miles away.  It was as if I was being pulled that way, more than just my attention being pulled – it felt like a physical force.  I was noticing that when all of a sudden my body started to shake and shiver as if something was physically shaking me about.  I felt hot, and then cold, and was shivering all over.  This didn’t last long, just a few seconds, and then I felt calm and peaceful.  It was like a wave that came over me and then passed, leaving a great calmness behind.  It felt like I was finally finished with my job, I was released and at ease.

That day we heard more about the women.  The passenger was not serious injured, as I had expected.  The driver was very seriously injured with many internal injuries, broken bones, and a serious head injury.  She had been in a coma up until that morning, when she finally woke up.  As far as I was able to determine, she woke up about the same time that I felt the shivering.  I later heard that the driver survived, but was confined to a wheelchair.  I don’t know what the final outcome has been for the driver, and have not seen either of the ladies since that day.

As a final note, there was a lawsuit concerning the design of the intersection and the county put up a new flashing light to control the intersection.  As a result of this accident, the fire department purchased a “jaws of life,” which has aided us to more quickly rescue several people.

Walking the path

I have been fasting in alignment with the Muslim time of Ramadan.  It is a one month period of time each year where they (I say “they” because I am not a Muslim) do a number of spiritual activities, including fasting between the hours of sun up and sun down.  No food, no drinks (including water), no “eating” other people’s energy, no sex, and no alcohol for the month.  I am a week into it and am finding it to be a much more meaningful, and powerful, activity than I had anticipated.  The hunger and thirst during the day is a small part of it.  They just provide a reminder of what I am trying to accomplish, which is to become more clear about who I am and what I am doing.

A very dear friend of mine wrote the following poem about this task of remembering, seeing and understanding. Enjoy.

WALKING THE PATH
I walk along the path,
I stop here and there.
I see light, I see reflection of light.
I stop and look here and there.
I walk along the path,
I see my reflection here and there.

I walk and watch along the path,
I see familiar faces and hear clear voices.
And when I get to the end of the path,
I wonder, What was my intention to walk this path?
and I ponder, where have I been and where have I gone?
So I wonder as I walk along the path.
What are the seeds of my desire?
I walk alone the path to the end of my time and
wonder,
where have I gone with the seeds of my desire?
I walk along the path to the end of my time and
wonder,
where have I gone?
Ramin Yazdani October 2005

Feeling energy

Feeling energy

Charlie

It was sometime around 2001.  I was attending a spiritual gathering with some Toltec acquaintances of mine.  It was a group that I didn't really know very well - although I did know a couple of the folks from previous meetings.  The meeting was in the evening and we had "warmed" up by meditating a bit, saying some prayers, playing drums and other instruments, and generally enjoying ourselves.  The leader had us do some energy exercises.  We paired off in twos.  I was pared with a lady that I slightly knew.  We were asked to sit cross legged on the floor facing each other.  Then both persons were to close their eyes and one would "feel" the energy, or aura, of the other by feeling the space between them and around the other person with their hands.  I was the first to be the "feeler," she was to be the person who I felt. 

I found this to be a very unsettling exercise being basically a non-believer in this kind of weird thing.  I consider myself to be an engineer/physicist and was (and am at some level) convinced that there is no energy that can be felt in this way.  However, since I had made an agreement with myself to do as asked as long as it isn't too dangerous, I played along with the game.  I allowed myself to be blindfolded, and reached out with my hands to explore the space between us.  We were positioned so I wouldn't be able to get closer than about a foot, maybe a bit more,  from her with my hands.  For quite some time this went as expected, I waved my hands around and felt nothing.  I didn't expect anything more and wasn't disappointed. 

I started to notice a warm sensation in the palms of my outstretched hands.  As I moved my hands around I could feel it getting warmer and cooler, depending upon where they were placed.  There was a certain place that they felt very warm.  The feeling was very much like moving my hands toward and away from a hot cloths iron.  In fact, I finally stopped because I was a little worried that it would actually burn me if I got too close. So I just kind of played with the sensation, moving my hands closer and further away from her, and up and down - feeling the boundaries of the heat.

After we were done, we took off our blindfolds and talked to each other about the experience.  She told me that I was hurting her by pressing too hard on her left shoulder/breast area.  She said that I was pushing in and out too hard, and that it felt almost painful, but not quite painful.  Then she said that she had a serious medical problem in that area (she didn't say what it was and since she didn't offer that information, I didn't ask).  She just said that she had a problem, and that I was pressing the energy in that location and causing significant pressure and warmth to the injured area.

The experience stuck in my mind because it was the first time that I had an independent agreement with the experience of feeling the "energy" of an illness or disease.  I was very sorry that I made her feel uncomfortable; if I had known that I was actually impacting her I would have been much more careful and gentle.  As it was, I had no idea that she would be able to feel what I was doing, more or less that I might make her feel pain or be ill at ease.

I have never seen that lady again since that time.  I have often wondered if by some weird magic that experience might have helped her to heal.  I have had no feedback since then, so as far as I am aware it was just an experience of the two of us feeling some kind of hot, powerful energy.

Mayfield Mall

This event occurred a few days before Christmas of 1968 when I was 21 years old.  I was engaged to my first wife Katie.  At the time and we were going to spend a few days with her parents in Palo Alto.  It had been a hectic year at college so we hadn’t yet finished our Christmas shopping. The two of us went to a nearby shopping mall (the Mayfield Mall) to see what we could find.  The mall was busy, but not packed or in a “Christmas rush” mode, it was kind of fun to just relax and watch people coming and going. The mall was all decorated in the spirit of the season, with Christmas music playing softly in the background.  Everyone seemed in a good mood that day.    Since Katie was the one who was most interested in shopping, we decided that I would hang out in the open part of the mall, watching folks, while she did her shopping. 

I picked a spot near the main entrance that was out of the traffic, but close enough to it to watch the comings and goings of folks.  I was in a kind of covered courtyard that connected the entrance from the northwest to the shops on either side of a wide hallway going off in an easterly direction.  There was a little roll-around flower cart next to my spot, and a bench about 20 feet away, facing me but facing away from most of the foot traffic. 

I was leaning up against a railing along the wall when I noticed the two men on the bench.  They were Hispanic-looking men, sitting and talking to each other.  One was an older gentleman wearing an old, slightly floppy, wide-brimmed felt hat and neat, clean, “farmer” cloths.  He was dressed like what I would expect an older, rural, Mexican gentleman to wear when he went shopping in town.  The other man was younger, slightly chubby, and wearing slacks and a white shirt.  He was dressed in informal business wear.

At first I didn’t pay much attention them because they were just a couple of guys sitting and chatting, probably waiting for their women just like I was.   However, I then noticed that they were watching me very intently, and apparently talking about me!  This caught my attention, especially when I realized that I could easily hear what they were saying – in clear English with no apparent accent.  The old man gestured toward me and told the younger one that I was a physicist, and had worked at NASA.  (I was majoring in physics at the time and had spent a summer a couple of years ago working at NASA at Moffett Field).  He then went on to describe my summer job at NASA and added in other specifics about me that should have been impossible to know.  They were both watching me in a most unusual way, catching me in a “spell” of some sort.  I found myself connected to them, oddly disconnected from the rest of the environment and people in the mall.  It was like floating in suspended animation. 

After a few seconds (minutes?) of this, I got really embarrassed feeling because I was somehow being stripped naked by these guys.  In my embarrassment I stepped behind the shopping cart to hide from them.  This action broke my spell and I was immediately overwhelmed with curiosity.  I turned back, determined to go up to them and ask them who they were and how they knew these personal things about me.  I had the very clear understanding that the two men were Carlos Castaneda and his teacher Don Juan.  It couldn’t have been more than two or three seconds before making this decision and turning back.  I spun around to confront them, but of course they were gone!  I looked around the mall, but even though the mall floor was 60 or 70 feet wide at this location, and there was only a handful of people on the floor at that moment, I could see clearly that they were not in the halls.  I wondered if maybe they had somehow gotten up and left through the entrance, which would have been the only possible way for them to have gotten out of sight.    I ran to the entrance and checked the hall and parking lot, but there were not there either.  My only explanation is that they vanished into thin air; they were just gone (or maybe hadn’t actually been there).

At that moment I realized that I had failed an important test that don Juan talked to Carlos about in his early books.  He kept talking about “cracks, or slivers, of opportunity” that open into the other side of reality. He said that we have to stay awake to be able to jump into them at the moment that they open.  He had somehow opened such a crack of opportunity for me, but instead of reacting immediately to that opportunity, I become confused and embarrassed.  I missed the moment, and once I missed it – it had closed and was gone.   It became clear to me that one of the main things that a warrior on the path to enlightenment needs to do is become aware and quick enough to spot opportunities and jump – to step through the opening.  It is like being a cat, watching and watching (stalking) the moment, but once the moment is right putting all of your energy into pouncing to catch the opportunity.

About that time Katie showed up looking for me and found me frantically running up and down the mall looking in vain for those men.  I knew that they weren’t there, but I wanted to make sure that I hadn’t overlooked some obvious and mundane explanation for their disappearance.  She just laughed at me as I babbled on about this weird non-encounter encounter. 

Pyramid of the Moon, circa 1996

It is an odd thing, but I can’t seem to recall the year that I went to Teotihuacán (“Teo”) with don Miguel and his group.  It was just about the same time that I started working with my good friend and teacher, Ramin.  I don’t suppose the date is important.  At that time I didn’t know much about the Toltecs, or don Miguel.  I had somehow had found out about a week long trip to the pyramids and decided to give it a try.  I probably heard about it on one of the evenings that I had gone to see and listen to don Miguel in Sacramento or Davis.  I thought the costs for the trip were pretty exurbanite, but since I could afford it I elected to not worry too much about it. 

I flew from Sacramento to Austin, then on to Mexico City.  We were supposed to meet at Mexico City and then be bused to the hotel at Teotihuacán.  I got to Mexico City expecting a greeter, a sign, or some other fairly obvious way to identify the group. I was very new to the group and would not recognize anyone, with the possible exception of don Miguel.  I got off the plane, went into the terminal and found no sign of the group.  There were lots of people milling around waiting for people, or waiting to board the next plane, but there were no signs announcing the group, Toltecs, Miguel, my name or anything else.  I walked all over the airport looking for some hint of what I might do next.  I was getting a little worried since I had no idea where to catch up to them if I missed them at the airport.  I had not been given any information beyond meeting at the lobby at the exit to the immigration area. I started to wonder what I was going to do next.  I waited around for an hour or an hour and a half, hoping that someone would show up – but they never did. 

I finally noticed that there were some people scattered around sitting on chairs or the floor talking to each other.  They appeared to also be waiting for something or someone.  They appeared to be Americans, so I felt comfortable asking them if they happened to have any idea about this group I was looking for.  It turned out that they were the group!  What a relief that was.  I think they were waiting for me because once I found the leader and identified myself, we all went out and got into the bus.

There were about 100 people attending the trip to Teo, which heightened my feeling that the prices were quite high once I added up in my head the costs and the income from these folks.  This seemed to be a big time money maker for the leaders, and I became concerned that I had just signed up for a week of “rip off the tourist.”  However, as I talked to folks I learned that most were experienced with don Miguel’s trips and seemed to be quite willing to pay the price.  I decided that since I was there I might as well stop worrying about that part, and see what might come of the trip.  Since then I have done a number of things with don Miguel and always feel that the prices are extremely high, but since that seems to be what the market value is, and I am willing to pay it, I feel that should just let it go (but I find this to be very difficult to do). 

Our group filled up the Club Med that is located right next to the pyramid site, apparently on the Avenue of the Dead.  Not having stayed at a Club Med before, I was surprised at the austerity of the place.  It was very pretty and had a lot of “local color” about its design, but was not as lavish as I would have expected.  It actually aligned with my personal desires for accommodations.  It turns out that this is one of three or four “archeological” Club Meds, and is not the normal family oriented club that I had heard about.  It was actually perfect; it had all that we needed and was comfortable for our group.

Since the group was so large, we broke up into smaller groups to visit the pyramid site.  I was assigned to a group of six or seven ladies, and myself.  The group was led by Heather Ash, one of don Miguel’s apprentices and by then a Toltec leader/teacher.  It was evident that everyone in this small group, except me, knew each other very well.  I was happy with the selection, they all seemed to be great people and I looked forward to spending the week with them. 

The plan was to start at the southern end of the Avenue of the Dead, near the Feathered Serpent Pyramid (Temple of Quetzalcoatl) and then working our way north alone the Avenue of the Dead to the Pyramid of the Moon, finishing up several days later at the Pyramid of the Sun.

Each morning don Miguel would talk to us as a large group for an hour or two, then we would break up into our smaller groups and experience the pyramid.  We were told some of the history of the place from don Miguel’s point of view, which turned out to be quite different from what I read on the plaques and written materials presented for the tourists.  Then we were told what lessons and experiences were possible in this power place, and were guided on a tour that was a tour of ourselves, rather than an archeological tour of the ruins.  We were using the place and the energy as tools, not as something to see.  In the afternoon we would take a break or attend training sessions put on by the teachers.  In the evening Miguel would talk to the group again about the day and set our intent to continue working in our dreams.

We spent the biggest part of each day within the confines of the pyramid complex.  It was an interesting experience to be focused on meditation, power, awakening, and personal understanding in the middle of a place that was bustling with tourists and people selling local goods and trinkets.  We just focused on our work, and let the hustle and bustle flow around us.  I felt that those tourists that noticed us at all must have thought we were pretty wacky since we were on such a totally different pace and were spending our time in places that didn’t seem to have much visual draw (but did have much energetic attraction).  Mainly it was clear that we were two distinct groups of people, flowing past each other but not interacting very much.  It opened my eyes to the possibility of experiencing a place in peace and solitude, even though it is thronged with tourists.  I have since noticed this division at temples where the holy men go about their business, seemingly without hindrance from the many people (tourists) around them.

After about three days of moving north along the Avenue of the Dead, we came to the Pyramid of the Moon – and climbed the steep stairs to the top.  The top is a wide square “plaza” that is slightly humped toward the center.  This day appeared to be school field trip day since there were many school kids in uniforms, many tourists with still and video cameras, and others on the pyramid.  I don’t know how many people were up there, but I would guess at least a couple of a hundred, maybe more.

Heather decided that we should sit in a circle, and chant “Om” for awhile.  We started to sit I a circle, but were stopped by a big, rather intimating looking guard.  He noticed what we were about to do and indicated that we were not to do that.  We were surprised and disappointed that we weren’t going to be allowed to chant on top of the pyramid.  However, he then began to motion for us to follow him, which we did.  He pointed down, and there was a marker – he had brought us to the very center of the pyramid.  He then indicated, with the hint of a twinkle in his eye, that THAT was the right place to do what we wanted.  So he didn’t seem to have a problem with our project, he just wanted to make sure we did it in the right place!

We sat and formed a circle that was perhaps eight feet across, closed our eyes, and started chanting.  It was one of those magical times when chanting Om starts my entire being to vibrate and feel like it is expanding and connecting to the universe.  I had experienced this sort of feeling when chanting this simple word before, so I wasn’t surprised with the feeling.  However, when I slowly opened my eyes while continuing to chant I was taken totally by surprise.  I found myself sitting facing not just the circle of friends, but a huge column of energy shooting up out of the center of the pyramid!  It filled the space between us.  It was the size and shape of a redwood tree.  It appeared to be flowing upward, reminding me of a huge jet of water shooting out of a fire hose or something like that.   The surface shimmered and danced as it moved, forming a distinct boundary that looked like I could just reach out and touch it.  However, this didn’t seem like a very good idea since it was obviously so powerful and beautiful. It was not something I dared, or wanted, to interfere with.  I didn’t think to look up to see how far it went, but it went straight up out of my field of vision into the clear blue sky.  We continued to chant for ten or fifteen minutes longer, and that huge jet of energy kept rushing from deep within the pyramid, into the sky.  I felt that we had tapped into the energy that was the reason for the pyramid in the first place.  It finally dissipated, and we stopped chanting.  I had been absolutely, totally caught up in the power of the chanting and the power of the column of energy.  My body was alive and my soul was soaring.

Once we stopped, I looked around.  The first thing I saw was our big guard friend.  He had a huge grin on his face smiling at us.  He gave us a big “thumbs up” sign to let us know that he knew that we had tapped into the energy of the pyramid.  Then I looked around to the rest of the people on top of the pyramid, and they were all silent and transfixed in their spots.  They were all looking to where we were, were all silent and everyone looked as dazed as I felt.  I believe that they not only saw what I had seen, but were caught and moved by the energy just as I had been.  They all looked peaceful, content, and shifted to another place.  This included all of the school kids who had stopped their running and yelling, to stand and behold the miracle with us. 

I have never mentioned my experience to Heather or any of the other ladies, so I don’t know if I was alone with my perceptions, or if we shared them that day.  I thought about asking them, but was afraid that talking about it would somehow dissipate the magic, turning it from something really special to just an imagined figment of my mind.  I didn’t want to move it from a “felt” experience to a “thought.”  It really doesn’t matter too much if we shared the same thing or not, because I am positive that all of us on top of the pyramid that day shared a huge experience.  We might have seen it differently, but we all felt it.

Out of Body

One of the things that intrigues me about “the other side” is the possibility of moving out of my body.  So far, I can only recall two “out of body” experiences.  It is possible that there are more, but if so, they were not obvious to me at the time.

The first such experience happened sometime around the year 2000.  I was working as a safety consultant for a company that made large, very powerful lasers used in the semiconductor industry.  My job was to help them design enclosures, interlocks and controls that would allow them to use these lasers safely.  I would visit their facility in Santa Clara once a week or so to talk to their engineers, inspect the equipment or attend meetings.  Since it was just a part time job, I wasn’t issued a security badge, so I had to be escorted to enter the building past the lobby.

On one occasion I showed up at the scheduled time, but my escort was not ready to see me.  I was asked to wait in the lobby for a half hour or so until he could come a get me.  This was fine with me; I get paid the same sitting in a lobby as I do actually working.  The lobby was a fairly small room that opened directly off of their tree covered parking lot.  There was a security desk, but no guard.  Four or five chairs lined each side of the lobby for guests to wait.  There were a couple of certificates and other business related documents hanging on the walls, but nothing of interest.  I was the only one waiting that day.  It was a fairly stark and uninteresting place to sit and wait.

Since it appeared that I would have a little time, I decided to meditate while waiting.  I sat in one of the chairs, closed my eyes, and sat with my breath.  After a few minutes, I felt myself separate from my body.  It was like my attention slipped right out and hovered near the ceiling.  I opened my hovering eyes and found that I was near the ceiling, looking around the room, and looking at my body sitting in the chair.  It was a very peaceful experience, I had no desire to change anything, I just remained in this separated position until all of a sudden the door opened and my client came in to get me.  This created a crisis of sorts because I could see him going over to greet me, but I wasn’t there.  I managed to force my body to open its eyes and acknowledge the person, but couldn’t really talk or anything because I was in the wrong place.  With a very large effort, I managed to force myself back into my body in time to be able to stand up and say hello – but could barely do anything else. 

When he talked to me it was like it was from an immense distance, I was trying to communicate to him across some sort of barrier. We were not in the same place at all.  Luckily, he didn’t demand much communication at that time.  He gave me a temporary badge and led me off to a meeting room.  By the time we got to the meeting room I was solidly back in my body so could carry on normal communication.  I remained in a very “spacey” state for the rest of the day, but was able to talk and act more or less normal if I concentrated hard enough.

The second time I had an out of body experience was a couple of weeks ago.  I was lying in bed, getting ready to fall asleep – but was having a difficult time doing that.  One of my normal tricks when this happens is while lying on my back to let my attention move to all parts of my body.  I start with my face, near my eyes, and feel myself.  Then I move slowly down my face, to my neck, arms, chest, legs, feet, buttocks, back, neck, head and back to my face.  By the time I do that I am very relaxed and can feel my entire body as one unit, it helps me to be aware of all of myself.  I finished the trip around my body and just lay there relaxed, when I felt myself separate from myself.  I just sort of floated up out of my body and hovered about a foot over myself.  It was quite comfortable and felt good.  I was not really amazed or anything like that, it seemed like a natural thing to do.  After awhile I decided to turn over onto my side and go to sleep.  When I rolled, I was surprised to find that I rolled under my hovering self, but it stayed in place.  For some reason I had expected that it would move with me, but it didn’t.  I could switch my attention between the two me’s, changing my point of view at will.  I finally decided to just go to sleep, leaving the second floating above me.  When I woke up, I was back together again as if nothing had happened.

Both of these experiences were very quiet and subtle.  There was nothing really dramatic, or earth shattering about them.  The most unusual aspects of them were that they seemed to be so “normal.”  It was like this is a normal state of affairs, something that happens all of the time, but for some reason on these two occasions I happened to pay attention.  That is why I said that there may be more of these experiences, but I just don’t recall them because I didn’t notice them.  They felt like the normal, and correct, way to be. 

Feeling energy

It was sometime around 2001.  I was attending a spiritual gathering with some Toltec acquaintances of mine.  It was a group that I didn't really know very well - although I did know a couple of the folks from previous meetings.  The meeting was in the evening and we had "warmed" up by meditating a bit, saying some prayers, playing drums and other instruments, and generally enjoying ourselves.  The leader had us do some energy exercises.  We paired off in twos.  I was pared with a lady that I slightly knew.  We were asked to sit cross legged on the floor facing each other.  Then both persons were to close their eyes and one would "feel" the energy, or aura, of the other by feeling the space between them and around the other person with their hands.  I was the first to be the "feeler," she was to be the person who I felt. 

I found this to be a very unsettling exercise being basically a non-believer in this kind of weird thing.  I consider myself to be an engineer/physicist and was (and am at some level) convinced that there is no energy that can be felt in this way.  However, since I had made an agreement with myself to do as asked as long as it isn't too dangerous, I played along with the game.  I allowed myself to be blindfolded, and reached out with my hands to explore the space between us.  We were positioned so I wouldn't be able to get closer than about a foot, maybe a bit more,  from her with my hands.  For quite some time this went as expected, I waved my hands around and felt nothing.  I didn't expect anything more and wasn't disappointed. 

I started to notice a warm sensation in the palms of my outstretched hands.  As I moved my hands around I could feel it getting warmer and cooler, depending upon where they were placed.  There was a certain place that they felt very warm.  The feeling was very much like moving my hands toward and away from a hot cloths iron.  In fact, I finally stopped because I was a little worried that it would actually burn me if I got too close. So I just kind of played with the sensation, moving my hands closer and further away from her, and up and down - feeling the boundaries of the heat.

After we were done, we took off our blindfolds and talked to each other about the experience.  She told me that I was hurting her by pressing too hard on her left shoulder/breast area.  She said that I was pushing in and out too hard, and that it felt almost painful, but not quite painful.  Then she said that she had a serious medical problem in that area (she didn't say what it was and since she didn't offer that information, I didn't ask).  She just said that she had a problem, and that I was pressing the energy in that location and causing significant pressure and warmth to the injured area.

The experience stuck in my mind because it was the first time that I had an independent agreement with the experience of feeling the "energy" of an illness or disease.  I was very sorry that I made her feel uncomfortable; if I had known that I was actually impacting her I would have been much more careful and gentle.  As it was, I had no idea that she would be able to feel what I was doing, more or less that I might make her feel pain or be ill at ease.

I have never seen that lady again since that time.  I have often wondered if by some weird magic that experience might have helped her to heal.  I have had no feedback since then, so as far as I am aware it was just an experience of the two of us feeling some kind of hot, powerful energy.

Fear in the classroom

Fear in the Classroom

Charlie

circa 2000

I was attending a Toltec class given by my friend, Ramin.  It was an evening class held in a classroom in one of the large buildings at the University of California, Davis. We had been working on the issue of “stalking” ourselves in order to become more aware of what we are doing, who we are, what we believe and assorted similar issues.

Ramin decided that we needed a little “nudge” beyond our comfort zone to help us to experience the edge of our discomfort, and as an aid to practicing “being in the moment.”  It is always a bit scary when one of the Toltec teachers decides to push me beyond my comfort zone because they seem to be very skilled at finding ways to push me far beyond that boundary.  This evening was to be no exception.

Ramin told one of the other students to count the tiles on the floor the length of the hallway.  I chuckled to myself about this, thinking that it was an easy assignment and that maybe I would get off without too much perspiration from facing my fears.  It turned out that while counting the tiles would be no big deal for me, it was a really frightening and uncomfortable thing for the student with that assignment.  His problem was not with counting the tiles, which was easy enough.  His problem had to do with so many strangers watching him do a senseless activity.  For some reason, being observed doing something like that just didn’t fit into his personal agreements, making this a very difficult assignment.  It seemed easy to me because I don’t have much of a problem being observed doing some pretty silly and senseless things.

Then I got my assignment and almost fainted from fear.  My assignment was to enter all of the classrooms in the four-story building and inquire about a fictitious person.  I was to ask about the whereabouts of someone as if it were important for me to find them.  This was at a time when all of the lecture halls were being used, there were lectures going on in them all.  I learned in a flash that one of my personal agreements has to do with not unnecessarily interrupting professors when they are in the process of giving lectures.  Actually, it isn’t quite that – it is more that it is rude (and therefore unacceptable) to force my way into other’s space unless there is a good reason to do so.  This belief is probably connected with my being taught that children are to be seen but not heard. In any case, the idea of opening a door and asking the professor and students if they knew where so-and-so was did not fit into what I consider acceptable behavior.  However, it also didn’t seem to be something that was really all that bad or dangerous.  This would harm nobody, and the effects would be very short lived.  Therefore, I didn’t have a very good reason to reject the assignment.  I knew I wasn’t really hurting anyone, but that didn’t make it any easier for me.

As I approached the first room I could hardly breathe I was so nervous.  I had made up a very short speech to be used when I opened the door, something like; “excuse me, I am looking for Jim Smith.  Has anyone seen him or know where I might find him?”  While my prepared speech was very short, I was sure that I would not be able to speak because of my nervousness. 

I was trembling and hyperventilating by the time my sweaty hand turned the first door handle.  To heighten my fears, the door led to a large lecture hall filled with students and a professor at the blackboard in front.  I blurted out my “speech,” barely waiting for a response before I apologized for the interruptions and thanked them.  I closed the left and closed the door as fast as I could, feeling a brief relief as the door closed.  Of course, that didn’t really solve my problem because there were dozens of doors still to be opened.  As I went from floor to floor doing this I found a variety of reactions to my rude interruptions.  Most people took it in stride, answered politely and let me go my way.  A couple of the professors showed great displeasure at being interrupted, but let me get an answer nevertheless.  Only one professor prevented me from getting an answer.  In one room a student claimed to know the fictitious person, but luckily didn’t know where he was!  I should have been more careful in choosing a name. It would have been very confusing if a person with the name had been in the classroom.

When I started this exercise I assumed that it would be bad to begin with, but would get better as I got used to the experience.  I figured that after a couple of rooms I would be “hardened” enough to just go through the actions.  However, that was not to be.  It didn’t get easier, in fact it got much harder the more I did it.  I never was able to get the feeling of terror out of my chest, never was able to stop hyperventilating and sweating.  It got so bad that at about at the midpoint I was on the verge of quitting the project, it was just too horrible to continue.  I knew that there were students in the halls as I went from door to door, but I was so upset that I couldn’t see them, or meet their glances.  It was like I was in some kind of a cocoon, separate from the rest of the world.  All that I could focus on was my fear, the doors, and my little speech.   I did continue, and was greatly relieved when I finally closed the last door.  I felt like running away from there. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity of the building.  When I finally got back together with Ramin and the others in the class I could relax and laugh about it, but at the time that I was doing it there was no laughing.  Some of them said they were surprised that this was difficult for me, to them it seemed like it would be a cake walk, there was nothing at all to fear in such a thing.

This was a very interesting exercise in facing my fears, and continuing in the face of them.  I have used it on a number of occasions to remind myself that even though I might be frightened and have all of the bodily experiences that come with that fear, I can actually keep acting.  It doesn’t have to paralyze me like I thought would be the case.  I also learned the power of our personal agreements.  I wouldn’t have had a problem counting tiles, but the other student did because it went against his private, irrational agreements.  For some to do what I had to do would have been nothing, but that wasn’t the case for me.

As I sit here and recall the experience it isn’t really clear what my agreements were that I was violating, or just why it was so scary.  It seems like I should be able to do such a thing without blinking, but I suspect it would still hold all of the fear and upset that it did on that evening.  I seem to have very powerful agreements that most of the times are invisible.  However, when things are just right – they are full of power and can easily take control of me.  It is an interesting thing to experience these hidden stories and then watch them vanish from sight again, only to return unexpectedly when things line up just right.

There was another important aspect of this exercise besides scaring the daylights out of me.  Ramin had managed to find a way to get me to shift my assemblage point and to hold it there for an extended period of time.  The reason that I felt “shifted” and out of touch with those around me was that I was shifted, and that caused me to be out of touch with normal reality.  This was an exercise in learning to move, and hold, my assemblage point, which is an important skill for following the path to enlightenment.  It was very much of an energetic exercise, not just a simple mind game. 

Butterfly Dream

This is a story about a dream that I had a few years ago.  I was doing dreaming work, trying to get some control over my lucid dreams.  I had been reading one of Carlos Castanada’s books and was attempting to look at my hands in my dream.

I found myself “waking up” in a dream where I was in a spring-fresh grassy field with green rolling hills and blue sky with puffy clouds floating overhead.  I stood there for a little while just breathing in the beauty of the place and then remembered to look at my hands, which I could do easily.  The action of shifting my attention to looking at my hands seemed to ground the whole event so that it became so real that I found it impossible to determine if it was a dream, or if I was actually standing in the field.  I could hear, smell and see normally – but I still knew that it must be a dream because I had no knowledge of how I got there, or where “there” was. 

I then had the thought that if it was a dream, I should be able to do anything that I wanted.  I decided to see if I could “create” a butterfly.  I held my hands out in front of me, closed up as if cupping a small, precious animal within my closed hands.  I then “intended” that a butterfly be in my hands.  I felt it move, and opened my hands so that I was holding it on both of my hands.  It was a very beautiful, rather large, brightly colored, butterfly that spread it wings - holding them open for me to see clearly for a few seconds, and then flew off across the fields.  I am not sure what species of butterfly it was, but it looked similar to a big monarch butterfly that we see every spring in Northern California.

I then continued exploring the field for awhile, and finally just woke up with the feeling of having spent a nice afternoon in a warm, comfortable field.

Beside myself in Puno

I was on an adventure/spiritual trip with some Toltec friends to the high mountains of Peru.  We were visiting the regions around Cusco, Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. The Toltec leaders were leaders who have worked with don Miguel for many years.  The tour “guide” was a gentleman from the Lake Titicaca area who was a very spiritual man, author, and hotel owner – his personal teacher is a very old “shaman” from the area.  We stayed at his hotels in Cusco and Lake Titicaca.  On most days, the old shaman squatted on the floor in the lobby of the hotel keeping a watchful eye on our group. He wore the tradition brightly colored shawl, hat and other clothing of the Incas.

The high elevation seemed to be having an effect upon me, especially once we got much above about 12,000 feet.  It obviously impacted my stamina and ability to breath; just a small exertion and I would be huffing and puffing, forcing me to stop often to catch my breath.  Luckily, I didn’t get altitude sickness or anything like that; I just found that I was out of breath much of the time. 

Toward the end of the trip we headed for Lake Titicaca. On the flight to Peru I met a nice lady who grew up in Peru (Lima).  She had a lot of advice for me concerning what to do, where to go and what to eat.  Her last, and most adamant, advice was to avoid Lake Titicaca.  She said it was far too high; almost everyone gets sick from the altitude.  She said that the weather was awful, it was too hard to get around, and there was nothing to see or do.  Her aunt had made the trip and warned her not to go.  This prepared my mind for a difficult and unpleasant adventure. 

We flew into the Puno airport, which is located somewhere on the northwest side of the lake.  Since I didn’t have any maps, or see any maps, I really had no clear idea about where we were.  We took a bus from the airport to our hotel (in some town which I never did locate or find the name of).  From the airport to the town where our hotel was located was a fairly long bus trip across a beautiful, high plateau. The plateau was almost flat, ringed by high snow covered mountains.  There were a few trees scattered about here and there, but mostly it was just gently rolling grassland set under a light blue sky.  Puffy clouds casting dark shadows as they drifted across the landscape.

We traveled across this plateau as evening approached.  The sun was low in the sky and there were many beautiful clouds overhead.  I thought we were headed south (which means we were probably going north).  The light was totally transfixing to me.  There was something new about the color and feel of the light.  The difference was nothing that I can describe in simple terms such as “bluer” or “redder” than usual.  Rather, it was more of a “feel” of clarity or purity.  It felt like the air and the sky were not as “dense” as I am used to (which in fact was the case since we were above 13,000 feet elevation).  We traveled past scattered homes, with round Peruvian ladies in many petticoated skirts and Bowler hats, along with their children, tending their fields with their oxen. 

I was sitting next to the window by myself, just enjoying the scenery as it passed by the window.  The others on the bus were excited and chatting away.  I was in a quiet mood, happy to just sit and take in the view and feel of the place. 

After a half hour or so of traveling we were past the city and then the little villages, until we were just crossing open country.  It was at about this time that I first noticed that something had happened to me.  I realized that I felt strangely “empty” – it felt like it was just me, without my body.  I felt somehow clearer and fresher – a little like the countryside that we were traveling through.  Then I realized with surprise that I was not only clearer and fresher, but the “center” of “me” was no longer aligned with the center of my body.  It felt like I was sitting next to myself, rather then within myself.  There was a distinct separation in space between my body that feels and touches things to the center of my consciousness that thinks and feels emotions.  At first this was a bit disconcerting.  I wondered if I was having some weird reaction to the altitude, or that I might actually be ill.  I gently tried to realign myself with my body, but to no avail.  I guessed that if I were to do something dramatic, such as standing up, the two would have coalesced immediately.  However, since the feeling was so pleasant I really didn’t want to do that.  I was quite comfortable just drifting next to myself, enjoying the trip and the beauty of the place.  This feeling of calm separateness went on for many miles.  I just sat there next to myself, enjoying the feeling – but with almost no thoughts to interrupt the feeling, or desire to change it.  It was as if I was suspended in the quiet of space, but immersed in a sea of sound and motion and sights.  I was there, but not really there.  It is difficult to describe the state of totally quiet observance, not even interrupted by being within my body.  It felt like I could drift like that forever without become anxious or bored - I was just in peace.

Of course, all good things come to an end.  We finally got across the plateau and started down a bluff to the shore just as dark came upon us.  By the time that we got to the next bit of civilization it was so dark that all that I could see were the lights of houses, outlining a dark void which I assumed was a bay on the lake.  My attention was then drawn more forcefully to the surroundings, to talking to others about our destination – I was back in my body and lost the feeling of floating in peace. My feeling was one of thanks to this beautiful place for being so open and gentle to me.  I felt as if I had been welcomed to the place and was at home with the mountains, clouds and lake.