Mapping the Source

Author

Rak Razam

Date of original publication

March 18, 2018

Source

Art

Martin Ball 


With the current cultural surge in interest in 5-MeO-DMT, what language can we give the unfathomable? Does the discourse need to veer from the shamanic/psychotherapeutic descriptions to a mystic terminology? Is there a cultural pushback from using descriptors like God, vs, non-dual or unity states? If the deep 5MEO void is an independent, originating Source, does it deserve to be mapped and/or to revered? Is the poetry of the heart as appropriate as the cartography of the soul to describe the 5MEO experience? And is the Source speaking back to us?

There are as many paradigms to describe the Source as there are cultures to observe it. Many of the world’s religions, from Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Christianity and Judaism have language maps for states of consciousness and have evolved esoteric lineages that pursue knowledge of the Divine. Shamanic cultures have intricate cosmologies and experiential vegetal technologies to interact with these hidden forces. Quantum physics also explores the nature of reality and the intangible forces that build and drive our existence. Whether you call it Samadhi, the Clear White Light, the Zero Point, Unity Field–or God, the attempt to languagize the unspeakable is possible, in as much as a map can be bought back of the territory of the Terra Incognita itself.

But are maps enough? The geography of that core Source space, the infinite, unconditional love frequency of pure white light cannot be denied nor can it go unrecognized that I AM THAT WHICH IS in that space of remembrance. Words then, cannot contain the Logos, but words can sing songs of praise back, words can leave traces and direction for those that come after. Words can help express what the heart already knows. So in today’s presentation the Tea Faerie and I want to take you on a translingistic word rap, back to the Source. 


Listen with your heart, open to the feeling, IT IS ALL THERE IS:


>>>Rushing tunnel of light and each bead is a frozen liquid angel, a condensed vibrational being, another drop in the cosmic ocean all around. And the angels are alive, they pulse with welcoming light / love, they caress and become me as I enter the 5-MEO-DMT space and everything becomes infused with holiness, with a sacredness beyond words, felt in every fiber of my being. This is what the saints say, what the enlightened ones experience, the lower bardos and the shores of the Heavenly realms...

And all I have to communicate it to you, dear listener, are these poor words, these little ninos. They are but shadows of the thing for the experience is translinguistic – beyond words. Underneath their semantic skin are vibrational wavelengths that attach to the essence of the thing that is named. The vehicle of the Word is like a freshly minted wave packet to contain energies that are burst open here as I swim through / in /become One with the core, the Source of all things, the Logos, the Word that creates and pure Creation itself...

I cross over to the other side – where the angels live, where all spirit and energy is manifesting on different levels, the 50,000 veils of Maya and the Sufi myth, the infinite masks of God. And as I let the Logos in, I embrace the onrushing Divinity and let it fill me, become me, until I’m swimming/ becoming like a dolphin cutting through the water, yet the water is me and there’s no separation from IT, it’s all IT, and it's all sound that manifests as light and it wraps around me as the caterpillar leaves the hammock-cocoon and becomes the cosmic butterfly…

Here and now, saying these words, I know how all this sounds. But listen, over there, a dimensional frequency away, a raging torrent is flowing that is the Source of all things. And the spirits I describe are so much more than that word, so real. They are the feeling of your lover, the first time you kissed, the birthday cake when you were ten, your first sunset, the love from your mother, a dog's tongue on your skin, sleeping in last Saturday, learning colors in pre-school, a smile of a stranger, the secret name you've never told the world, the flight of an eagle as the wind lifts its feathers and a lifetime of things besides...

A billion feelings are all stored within the holographic matrix of my DNA and as I join the vibrational matrix of the Source it not just polishes the hologrammatic lens, it unlocks the chakras to unleash all my memories and emotions. I’m being read like a book and the reader is God, the Logos, the thing with as many names as there are namers. It reads my stored memories and they cascade around me like a flower in bloom.

The spirits caress me and laugh with me, and as I get it, as I get that flash of recognition that I've felt these feelings before, the spirits say Si, amigo, yesss, and they laugh and lift me higher. They sing me their secret songs and I smile and remember and become and feel all of this in the touch of this one word: spirit. All of this hypercondensed into each single crystalline moment reflecting the glory of God in the molecular rainfall of my journey.

It's like Dolby-Surround Sound™ hologrammatic code. Hologrammatic, grammatic, grammar, the Word, the word of God… we're in the WORD you see, and the WORD is a sound, a vibration. And the more I don't fight IT the more I let go and embrace IT, the more perfect a vessel I become for the Logos, a living Logos that incarnates within.

All at Godspeed, smearing like a camel through the eye of a needle…



A timeless state ensues, and I’m wrapped in this being and I AM this being, I always have been. And in this state all is one is one is one forever and ever without end, and the visual hieroglyphics and the colors and kaleidoscopic patterns wrap themselves around me. Each one is another layer of the being, multiple strands of consciousness. The Logos is a modulating waveform made up of layers of vibrational sentience all overlapping with me, creating a ripple-like interference pattern as on the surface of a pond.

I can feel every molecule in my being vibrating at the same time, singing a song of joy, the same song the birds sing in the morning to the dawn and the animals sing when they run across the ground in the hunt and a lover whispers to their mate in the heat of their passion. Molecular rainfall all around, sentient superstrings showering space-love, unity, unity, unity. I am IT and IT is you. We are all One. And this goes on forever, and the whole time I’m melting and hurtling and blossoming and becoming and caressed by spirits and angels and cumming holographic chakra blossoms, totally trans-dimensional, till I lose myself, and there is no me left to remember separation. I’m drowning in it, back in the dreaming universe…

My heart chakra opens like an eye to the sun and drinks in its energy essence. This timeless world of spirit wraps itself around me like a cloak of eternity that goes on forever in all directions, beyond words now, IN the WORD now… And I can feel the spirits, they caress me, hold me, they teach me how to swim and breathe and they whisper their own icaros to help me navigate, those vibrational patterns that create cosmic ballast. I am at play in the fields of the Lord, swimming with the spirits…

After some time a memory of being Other returns, and like a deep-sea scuba diver I struggle to return to the surface. Even though ‘I’ can't remember who ‘I’ am or what it is I’m trying to do, a feeling remains that I've done something, this is it, I’ve done something I can't come back from.

This is what it must be like to be dead, lost in the current of the Source and merging back to the zero point, unanchored from the body. But I’m just visiting, I’m bungy jumping the lower bardos and just as I can't remember I’m an ‘I’, I feel the pressure of being a million miles from home, and the call of the Other that is ‘I’ begins...

I fall out of pure unity and start descending back the cosmic ladder to the matter world below. Re-entry begins. The spirits rejoice, they caress and sing to me on the way back down, they play with me and guide me back to my body. The icaros they sing are hologrammatic tools that carve me back to the right shape to fit my flesh. They pat me back down into myself, back into the ‘I’.

It feels like being born.


I feel an immense grace, like the shadow of God is in the room with us, the energy thread of the hologram, the Great Spirit that connects us all. And this grace rubs off, it's shining through every living thing, every person every sound, it's all in on the game we're playing down here, and I know this in a truth beyond words, as real as my breath, no illusions; the veil is lifted.

There is a translinguistic thread that connects all life in the language of the gods, and when the birds hear it they sing, the spirits whisper it, the thunder echoes it back, they're all talking, all connected, and I can hear them in my head and make sense of it and there's no end to it. Send out a signal, and the jungle responds with its cry. This is the hologrammatic universe science dreams of made flesh, visible, manifest. Booming right back at ‘cha.

And everyone is talking but I can hear/ feel the words and the energy like a billion levels of Photoshop wrapped around me, but God is the picture yeah, and all these layers of reality are threads I can pull and make words to know, and its all sentient and its all holy, holy holy holy God, most scared of spaces, the raw holiness of creation is still right here now.

Nature calls and wraps me in her, the animals sing back because they can hear the signal I'm giving off, the floorboards creak in expectation, the night whispers it's secrets and I know, I know it and am it, everything is language, it's all alive and now I know it's grammar, the secret language of nature...

God speaks through me and the Word is made flesh.

And I’m so happy that I’ve come back, because I'd forgotten I could come back, that I was separate from the All, and knowing that I can come back means that I can also return. Not only do these other spaces exist, but we can travel to them and return safely. We can survive the experience. We can make sense of it, the hypercondensed black hole of spacetimelove that is the Logos, it can be integrated. It can be downloaded. The idea of it can be brought back.



This excerpt is from  my book and film, Aya: Awakenings. It's taken from chapter 7: Surfing, the narration itself formed the backbone of the film's sequence recreating my first 5-MeO-DMT journey.