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Sunday, March 15, 2015

That Last Trip

I remember on my last acid trip in 1967 February on a hillside above Muir Woods,
Tamara Robertson my quiet guide or guardian - she walked down to talk to a ranger who was passing in the early morning - the only person in our 20 or so hours there. Had fasted and meditated beforehand. I had sat full lotus for many hours. Felt no pain. Coming down from celestial highs of the night, I saw my life and the habit of thinking of spiritual practice as something in the future when it was always right here. I had an urge to communicate that to Tammy, the only words I remember speaking - raising my right hand, index finger protruding to make a point, saying the first few of the sentence I wished to utter which was to start something like, "I was living under the notion that..."  but I only got as far as "I was living..." and an explosion of miraculous light literally blew me back on the ground. As it subsided I righted myself to a vision of a ring of beings above calling me onward, beyond them Suzuki and Katagiri in their brown robes standing. The word "angfanger" appeared and took on various forms and continued to be there. That's the last I remember, the word anfanger which seemed to hold great meaning though I neither knew what it meant or cared. It's German for "beginner." - DC