The Awakening of the Mystic

Thai Food Buddha

Thai Food Buddha

NEAR CAMP VERDE, AZ

March 9, 2016 2:02 PM

From my (limited) research, most spiritual book publishers aren’t interested in autobiographies (ie: “How I Awoke To Enlightenment”), but are more interested in the theory of enlightenment.

In the book I’m working on—though I don’t know how this will be received by the publishers—I’m providing both theory and real-world, autobiographical experiences. My intention is to demonstrate that I’m not just making this stuff up. That these Aspects are distinct phases I went though, and that each provides unique lessons from which anyone can learn a great deal.

With the exception of the Human tier, most of the Aspects are broken down into the following chapters: The Feel OfThe Properties OfThe Awakening OfLiving AsLessons Of; and Advice. While most of these chapters are theory, each Awakening Of and Living As chapter is mostly biography (how I awoke to the Aspect, and what it is like to live as this Aspect).

Here’s an example (standard first draft disclaimer (and still some clunky sections)):

The Awakening of the Mystic

One doesn’t just raise their hand, take an oath and swear they will be a good and loyal Mystic. No, the awakening of our mystical nature takes years: years of progress and faith, and years of failure and doubts. For myself, the Mystic Aspect began to awaken in the late ’90’s as I struggled with the meaning of life at my grandfather’s grave.

From Fading Toward Enlightenment:

Selfish and motivated, I worked hard at my career. People were used and discarded. A normal, solid life I lived. And the stone of my soul remained solid.

For years I ran the treadmill life. For years I ran and ran and ran. What was bought was broken and bought again. From nagging questions I ran.

I dated many women, but only for a month or two. I made a lot of money, and blew it all away. “I want, I want, I want” — the mantra of the Stone [WGW: Ego]. The mantra of my peers.

Standing alone on a cold, misty morning, I gazed at the freshly turned earth. The flowers were rotting, the clay turned to mud, and at my grandfather’s grave, I wept.

Long ago I questioned authority, now I questioned God. What is the Purpose? Why am I here? In the crack on the stone, a crystal of ice formed.

The rational side of my cynical soul, said the questions were not valid. They made assumptions based on beliefs. And beliefs were the hope of the foolish.

From my grandfather’s grave, my eyes came to rest on a lone branch filled with new cherry blossoms. Time suddenly ceased. The quiet – profound, and for the first time, I sensed a greater intelligence.

Regardless of what the mind had said, I could deny the meaning no longer. The ice in the stone shattered the rock into dust. The rain fell and mud formed.

“I sensed a greater intelligence.”

For years, this intelligence would remain aloof and elusive. It was only after my frustration with having glimpsed the enlightened state and taking the hit of LSD that I would “experience” Her though a vision.

From Fading Toward Enlightenment, directly after the memories/vision of being a Soul:

Under the influence of the drug, he experiences a profound vision of his first moments of life. Never had he thought about how horrible, frightening, and painful life must be to an infant as they are overwhelmed with stimulation. This insight convinces him that the vision is a memory, not something his mind has made up. “Back,” he says and each time he travels deeper and deeper into his past.

Under the moon on that clear night, both frightened and amazed, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Back,” I said, and my whole life changed forever.

Wholeness. Contentment. Joy and Bliss. Awareness without an Other. Love radiating outward into itself. No beginnings, no endings. No births or deaths. To Life, there is no opposite.

From the Stillness, a subtle tug, a tiny ripple on the empty ocean. A single twitch, a little pull and suddenly there were Two.

Ripped apart by desires unknown. She, the World and I, me. No longer One, we now were Two. It’s all my fault… Forgive me.

Like being torn from the womb, this too was a terrible separation, but far, far worse. Because he had failed to learn the lessons of his true Self, a disturbance was created in the Void. With a Big Bang this disturbance created the Universe and he was expelled from Heaven, cast out of Eden, and exiled from his Beloved.

Under the moon on that clear night, my tears turned the stars to halos. Wracked with guilt and self-disgust, I had committed the ultimate betrayal.

We had been One, but now no more, my weakness — simple desire. By wanting more, we split in two. I, the Ego and She, the World. I apart from She.

Night and Day divided by Dawn. Forever close but never joined. Two mute lovers just out of reach: destined to see. Doomed never to hear. Doomed never to touch.

What would you do to merge with Her? What atrocities would you commit? What tortures would you endure to be united once again?

Even though I would later be filled with doubts as to the authenticity of this vision/memory, the damage had been done. I could no longer fully trust my thoughts and theories. From that point forward, “She” would always be in the back of my mind—that maybe, just maybe, this Intelligence was real.

It would be years later before I would experience Her firsthand again—and even then, I didn’t realized it. Soon after my awakening in September of 2009, I wrote about three forms my enlightenment was taking: The enlightenment of Passion, the enlightenment of Stillness, and the enlightenment of Oneness.

From the October 25, 2009 entry from my blog—naively in “teacher mode”—I sought to describe the Enlightenment of Passion:

Passion. A flower, turning gradually, follows the sun as it arcs across the sky. Two kittens, one crouching down while the other rears on hind legs in a playful attack. A lone sparrow, high in a deep forest pine, sings joyfully. A young woman, taking the arm of her companion, nuzzles close in the cool evening air.

Passion. Life living. For a lack of better words: Love and Light flowing through. All creatures experience it. All creatures are alive because of it. It is the Tao within everything. It is Spirit. It is the Divine Essence. It is the Beloved.

Passionate Enlightenment feels like Light and Love flowing through you. It feels as if you are nothing but an outline, a thin portal for the Divine to enter the world.

This is the love that Christ taught. This is the compassion of the Dalai Lama. This is the non-violence of Gandhi.

Passion is Moving. It is Flowing. It is Beauty and Appreciation and Radiance. It is Life living through Life.

Though I had yet to fully understand the implications of this Love and Light flowing through this me-thing, it felt distinctly other. I was not the Light. I could direct it, but I didn’t own it. It felt like the Divine Herself radiating through me and outward. Always Love. Always Light. Always pure. I would eventually take to calling this pervasive feeling of Love and Light flowing outward from the body, the Radiant quality.

This radiant quality wasn’t just in my imagination either. To this day, complete strangers often do a quick double-take after glancing at me, instinctively step or lean towards me, then, as if realizing how socially unacceptable approaching a stranger is, they quickly pull back with a look of confusion on their faces and turn away in embarrassment. This happens so much that I’ve taken to calling it the double-take-push-pull thing.

For example, from April 6, 2011:

Yesterday I got that double-take-curious-confused-push-pull thing while standing in line at a Piccadilly cafeteria in Chattanooga. This time however, the guy, Rod—not the Rod from the last post (Synchronicity #1)—was courageous enough to act on his instincts and said, “You’re not from around here are you?”

This radiant quality isn’t just felt by people either. It is often felt by animals.

From the August 19, 2009 entry, just days prior to my awakening, as I sat in my camp chair and my ego boundaries faded:

About a half hour later, feeling very one with the woods surrounding me, three or four birds swooped down from the trees. One landed on the foot bar of the chair I was sitting in, another on my little wood table next to me. Seconds later, the one at my feet (I was sitting cross legged so my toes hung over the edge of the seat of the chair), started nibbling on my toes! Not in a painful way, more in a playful way, the way a dog will nibble at you when you play with it. Now these are wild birds and this area is not frequented by people (the birds weren’t looking for handouts – as I have seen them around here often and they’ve always been naturally skittish).

And walking through a prairie in New Mexico as a javelina—a wild boar of the American southwest—practically stubbled into me (January 9, 2013):

I opened and expanded and allowed Her to see through me. It was beautiful. It felt as if I were giving Her a precious gift, something She rarely experiences.

Clear and open and deeply still inside, I ambled slowly down a dirt road that leads out into the prairie. I look up and see a boar ambling along at about the same slow pace towards me, completely unaware of my presence. Seeing that our paths will cross if I continue, I stop and wait and point my iPod to snap some photos. It isn’t until he is but a few yards away that he sees me and, in a sudden burst of energy and dust, runs out across the plain. I was oddly still—silently grateful—and I recalled that time when some wild birds nibbled on my toes when I was particularly… clear.

Then, on the pitch dark night of March 27, 2013, as I sat on the steps of my travel trailer, a large beast slowly crept toward me (again, my foolhardiness shows here):

I had been working hard during the last few days, coding a complex and challenging project, but that was completed and uploaded and closed, so I sat on my doorstep and pushed away this Wayne-thing and expanded into the night.

It was a dark night, the moon still below the horizon, the stars bright. To my right, I sensed a movement—a large shadow within a shadow. My mind tried to interfere, to present its noisy theories and fears and explanations, but I pushed it away and I opened and expanded and watched.

The shadow moved forward, silently, aware of me—as I was aware of it.

It crept closer, stepping onto my ground mat, and because of the darkness and the angle and the mat, its body merged with the blackness and it became invisible.

My body started to contract in reaction, and my mind wanted to shout and grab a flashlight and find out what this creature was, but I pushed those thoughts away, took a deep breath and relaxed and expanded and opened.

In the darkness, I heard the creature take another step forward, pausing, listening. Then the sound of sniffing and I felt its breath on my hand. Seconds later, a gentle tickle, and its tongue licked my skin and my eyes dimly made out the faint image of a deer’s head.

I reached out and touch him, and stroked him and scratched behind his ears. I could feel two stubs upon his crown, future antlers, not yet having broken the skin.

The Love and the Light flowing outward from this body. It’s particularly strong when I “open and expand” (get out of my head and relax the self-contraction). This radiant quality is so strong sometimes that people and even animals sense it. The Love and Light is a key quality of the Mystic Aspect. It’s not something to be rationally understood, nor inquired into, but something that arises on its own—something that is felt.

As the magic—the siddhis—continued to happen, I began to grow concerned that I was becoming too attached to them. Gurus down through the ages have consistently warned to ignore the siddhis, that to encourage them could lead one to become identified with them (“I’m special! I can read minds!”). But I have always been one to question authority, so I examined the siddhis and asked, “How are they so consistent? Why do they awaken for spiritual seekers? How are they even possible?” As I began to realize the implications of the siddhis, yet cautious not to become identified with them, a whole new world came to open up before me.

Synchronicity implies God. As powerful and wonderful as the Love and Light of radiance was, in itself, it wasn’t enough to convince my mind that the Divine was real. A Mystic isn’t a Mystic unless TaoGod is experienced. Opening myself to the siddhis—not shunning them as so many nondualists do—resulted in a rapid increase of synchronistic events. And what are synchronistic events except the direct experience of God Herself?

From Sept 13, 2010 where—as has become typical—a number of synchronistic events happened one after the other:

MT. HOOD, OR–“The less there is of me, the more there is of Her.” I’ve said this many times over the years, but now it has become almost everyday life. Synchronistic events happen to me constantly: multiple times a day, everyday.

Take today for example…

Apartments on Craig’s List: The last couple days I have been watching Craig’s List for apartments (short term or yearly) in Eugene and Florence. Didn’t see anything appealing until this morning when a couple suddenly turned up in Eugene in my price range and downtown (walking distance to cafes, the library, etc.). I liked the idea of a downtown apartment.

Time to check out Eugene: Thinking I should spend some time in Eugene to make sure I like it, I receive an email from my client asking if I could start putting in some more hours. I told him I’d head down to Eugene tomorrow and get a room in a hotel for a week and crank out some code. This fit perfect with wanting to check out the place.

Women: I was hiking on a trail later on and hadn’t seen a single hiker (I was hitting a lot of cobwebs which tells you no one has been on the trail that day). Hiking along, my mind drifted to various women I had dated over the years, and within two minutes I come across a hot woman hiker coming the other way. She asked for directions, we talked briefly and went our separate ways.

Small World: As I left the trail (near my camp), I saw a car parked next to my “frog spot” and an older gentleman sitting by it taking in the view. The car had Florida plates, which is very unusual in Oregon, let alone on a back road on Mt. Hood. I asked him where he was from and he said, “Palm Bay,” which is where my parents live and where I have my “fixed” address. I showed him my license with the Palm Bay address. What are the odds?

My Frog Master: Later, after a hot, spray pump shower, I went down to my “frog spot” to say goodbye to the view since I was planning on leaving first thing in the morning. I had come here everyday and not once had I seen a frog, so I said to myself, “What are the odds I’d see a (the?) frog here today?” I looked… no frog. So I sat there gazing out over the clearing up at Mt. Hood, glanced down and said, “Son of a bitch!” in my best Sawyer (ABC’s Lost) accent because sitting there on my Frog Master’s rock was a frog! I only had my iPhone with me, so the shot above is after I scared him (unintentionally) by trying to get closer for the shot. He crawled back up onto his rock afterwards and we watched the sun set together.

The less there is of you, the more there is of Her. As you fade, something has to fill the space you left behind–and that something is what this Universe is made of. I call it, “Her.”

My only explanation for recurring, odds-defying synchronicity is that there has to be an all knowing, all caring, all powerful Intelligence operating behind the scenes, and, as I mentioned in the last paragraph of the post, this Intelligence fills your world as “you” fade.

The less there was of me, the more there was of Her. I would come to see this proven again and again and again. Indeed, I would come to find that for the Mystic, if I would allow the me-thing to become too strong, I would, in a very real sense, be punished.

From October 22, 2012:

SANDIA CASINO, ALBUQUERQUE, NM—The day before yesterday, I tried to win at the casino. In less than two minutes, I lost $300 on a high-stakes slot machine.

An important point: I was trying to win.

The next day—yesterday—as I walked through the casino, I found myself sitting down to a slot machine and practically before I knew what I was doing I slid a twenty into it. Two spins later, I had tripled my money.

I went to the cashier and cashed in.

I walked further on and came to the roulette table. While that table had always been crowded in the past, one side was wide open and only one other player stood there. Almost before I knew what I was doing, I said, “I’d like to put $100 on black.”

The wheel spun, the ball rolled and black won.

Before I knew what I was doing, I said, “Let it ride” and the guy standing next to me looked over, stared at me for a moment, then put his chips on various black numbers.

The wheel spun, the ball rolled, black hit and the other player shouted with joy as one of his numbers hit.

I picked up my $400 in chips and walked over to the same cashier. She said, “That was fast!” and I lied and I said, “I’m a lucky man.”

I don’t know how I would have explained the truth: that I’m hardly a man at all anymore—that I’m hardly anything anymore.

Then I did a test. I sat down at a slot machine, put in the $40 I was up over the last two days and I tried to win.

In less than a minute I lost the $40.

In the two days that I placed bets at the casino, I ended up breaking exactly even.

But here’s the lesson: Every time I tried to win, I lost. Every time I surrendered to Her whispers, I won.

Over the last few years I’ve seen this pattern repeated again and again and again: When I try, I lose. When I surrender, I win.

“When I try, I lose.” This was a hard lesson to learn, yet it would be repeated so often that this pattern would also help to shore up my faith in TaoGod.

For example, in the summer of 2010, I had purchased a big, diesel, box truck to convert to a stealth camper. As soon as I saw the truck in person, I knew I should pass on it, yet the salesman, desperate to get rid of it, made me an offer I simply couldn’t refuse. I had nothing but troubles with that truck. I spent a lot of time working on it, outfitting it, trying desperately to make it fit my needs, but I was always running into problems. Finally, near Eugene, Oregon, I was tempted to just sell it for a loss and rent an apartment.

September 16, 2010:

EUGENE, OR–After I arrived in Eugene on Tuesday afternoon, I checked into a hotel, then drove into downtown to check out the area. A couple hours later, as I’m driving back to the hotel, the “Check Transmission” and “ABS” lights start to flicker on and off.

Last month, when I was trying to figure out whether to keep the truck and I heard Her say, “You’ll know when you get out West,” I guess this was what She was talking about. 

About a week later, September 22, 2010:

Rather than trying to fix the truck, I’ve decided to donate it to charity (the Oregon Food Bank). When I thought about fixing it, diagnosing it, or selling it, I felt sick to my stomach–literally, a knotting queasiness. When I thought about donating it, I felt great. The ego barrier, trying to protect itself, thinks I’m crazy, that I’m just throwing money away that I will need later (“Be afraid. Be afraid. I’m here to protect you. There’s danger out there!”). Screw that bastard (the ego-barrier trying to protect, well, the ego barrier), he’s been giving me nothing but trouble lately.

As I mentioned in recent posts, I had been considering settling in somewhere and working on the consulting project and a book. The book has been gnawing at me, even though it isn’t clear exactly what it will be about, it is a constant tugging… an urging. “Rambling boy why don’t you settle down, LA can’t be your kind of town…” That song’s been going through my mind for months. When the truck broke down here in Eugene, when the woman didn’t call me back about renting her apartment, I was confused, “If this is where She/We/TheUniverse wants me to be (the truck dying here), why didn’t the woman call me back?”

That evening I got an email from my mother saying she needs major surgery soon. They have a condo nearby (actually it is my sister’s) which is vacant and would be perfect for writing. Though the selfish, little, ego-barrier-Wayne-thing keeps trying to get out of Florida, the moment I read that my mother was sick–as odd and selfish as this sounds–that sense of peace fell over me and I knew that was where I was supposed to “settle down” for a few months. I knew I was supposed to be there for her (my mother) and for Her [TaoGod].

When I tried, I failed. When I surrendered, things would work out (even my mother’s cancer would miraculously “work out”). Yet I still hadn’t learned my lesson just yet…

The next day’s post, September 23, 2010:

As I was finishing up yesterday’s blog, there was a knock on my door.

Long story short, the local Oregon Food Bank sent over a driver, and he brought along his mechanic friend to check out my truck for donation, simply because the donation sounded, in their words, “too good to be true.” In poking around at it, they got it to run (a bad battery cable connection). Because it was just an inspection, they didn’t have the donation paperwork, so they said they’d take care of it tomorrow.

Suddenly I had a working truck that didn’t cost anything to fix and would be perfect for getting me and my stuff back to Florida.

What would you have done?

After taking it for a successful test drive, I told myself that if the batteries were holding their charge by tomorrow morning–and it starts–then I’d load the truck back up with my stuff, drive it back to Florida and donate $1000 to the Food Bank. (Didn’t I even read yesterday’s post?)

How did this decision feel? Like I was making a deal with Her, but I figured She wouldn’t let the truck start if She didn’t want me using it.

This morning, the batteries were still charged and the truck started.

I loaded everything back up, checked out of the hotel, got behind the wheel, turned the key and… nothing, not even a ‘click.’

I smiled to myself, nodded, checked back into my room and unloaded the truck.

Lesson learned? God doesn’t negotiate, but She does have a sense of humor.

“God doesn’t negotiate, but She does have a sense of humor.” Every time I tried, I failed. Every time I surrendered, everything would effortlessly flow and work out all on its own.

The turning point though—the moment all doubt about Her fell away—was when I stumbled upon the book, Cosmic Consciousness:

My November 21, 2012 post titled, It’s Good To Know I’m Not Insane:

LEASBURG DAM SP, NM—I’ve been reading Cosmic Consciousness by Richard Bucke (published in 1905) off and on for about a week now, and am finding some fascinating insights and shared experiences with others who’ve gone through “the Illumination.”

One of the shared traits that really struck me was what Bucke calls the duplex personality, that “another individuality, another self, lived in him” (the awakened individual).

“The duplex personality of men having cosmic consciousness will appear many times as we proceed and will be seen to be a constant and prominent phenomenon.” – Richard Bucke

• Jesus called his “the Kingdom of Heaven”
• Paul called his “Christ”
• Muhammad called his “Gabriel”
• Dante called his “Beatrice”
• Balzac called his “Seraphita”
• Bacon (arguably) voiced his as “Shakespeare”
• Whitman called his “My Soul”

I’ve been calling mine “She” for years, and it’s good to see this pattern in others. Good to see that today’s focus on the Emptiness Level is not the big “End All”, but just another step on the way to union with the Divine (Mystical Oneness).

It’s good to know that I’m not insane or schizophrenic—that I’m in good company in experiencing a “duplex personality”… in experiencing Her.

The less there is of you, the more there is of the Divine. This isn’t just some catchy saying… it’s a profound truth. A hard won truth “discovered” by the great Mystics down through the ages. Each Mystic discovered Her in his own way, each experienced Her in his own way, each gave Her a name as he came to know Her better.

As the Mystic’s Heart opens—as he becomes less—She becomes more.

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7 thoughts on “The Awakening of the Mystic

  1. Dear Wayne,
    I can’t tell you how much I enjoy this. I cannot wait to buy your book. I was so moved to hear you say Everytime you try -you fail and Everytime you surrender it all works out.
    I envy you. I’ve been seeking for so long and am lost. I have health issues and have lost all passion . I don’t know what to do with my life.
    My faith is barely alive and yet I still go on.
    Love & Light
    Steven

  2. Yesss the stories with the points DO make it more accessible. I think a publisher would be crazy to see that as a deficit. Personally, I need a spiritual text to feel like this… Something I can relate to and apply… Rather than a textbook or something.

    Thanks for sharing, very good reminders for me right now.

  3. I agree with Michelle. This is a unique and perfect combination of theory and practice. You should emphasize this when marketing it. No doubt some publisher will see the light.

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