The psychological study of mystic consciousness is confronted with a
fundamental problem: mystics refer to their experiences of the 
inexpressible by
using texts, that is, to the extent that they communicate at all. However, 
a verbal
description of the experience is like a finger pointing to the moon. 
Another way
of looking at the problem is that the relation between an experience and its
verbal interpretation can be compared to a dream and its verbal narrative. 
What
we need to do, then, is to find a method similar to that used by 
interpreters of
dreams.

I have visions when I'm not asleep.  They are in the room with me as Blake 
used to say.  Sadly, I can't represent them in pictures. 
- http://ojs.abo.fi/index.php/scripta/article/viewFile/700/997

People dissolve into demons, imps or grow horns.  Other people have auras 
and the world usually shakes when they are about.  I see some pretty 
terrifying things and get very scared - though I can walk up to such 
'creatures' and touch them away.  I used to have a 'crime scene cinema' and 
can still pull up ones that haunt me.  On one occasion, CCTV showed my 
recall right against that of three other police witnesses.  I have seen 
what appeared to be battles (contained in the room yet apparently distant) 
- and in Moldova saw a massed cavalry charge of Mongols met by western 
armies from a position looking out from a monastery dug into a limestone 
hill.  A real horse and cart being driven across this view put an end to 
the experience.  There had been a battle there.  I've seen trees walk. 
 Whatever it is I always know where the reality is too.  I know others.

Normally, I would consider people able to report the same experiences good 
empirical back up. In the religious mystic field I'm afraid I feel I'm 
witnessing manipulation and copying.  I don't like feeling like this about 
other people.

On Tuesday, March 17, 2015 at 10:47:33 PM UTC, archytas wrote:
>
> Indeed you are a god to me Tony - just don't fall on my spot at the bottom 
> of the precipice or break Allan's coffee machine on the way down.  One 
> could fall to grace.  The Russians stopped drilling into the Earth's core 
> at about 8 miles.  Some believe this was because they could hear the 
> screams from Hell.  In fact, their drill just hit a pot of Allan's double 
> espresso and Gabby was scalded on the floor below.  We have had to keep the 
> trap-door shut since then, though we now get messages she has made her own 
> hope and sunshine,
>
> If the mystics are mystic, why do they keep copying each other like 
> management textbook writers and gurus?  I sort of want something different 
> and if I had the experience would be really pissed off if I could only 
> describe it as though I'd just come out of a Tom Perter's session.  Of 
> course, I haven't be purified yet or got a licence to fly the higher plane. 
>  If it's VTOL I promise to drop by and take you on the ride.
>
> There has to be more to mysticism than the Soylent Green type and the 
> sales pitchers of its nutritional value.  Maths with no numbers does a bit 
> of it for me, but as we know, Allan zeroes out.  We use light to remind 
> mice about good times and they return to them.  Thought a lot on Andrew's 
> framework down by the river.  A couple of young girls were hugging Zak - 
> his now rather done in back legs got a temporary cure and he bounded with 
> the mystic eyes of pleasure for a bit.  Max went to round the old guy up so 
> we could go home, but the girls' dad was telling them about river otters, 
> so we stayed a while.  To the girls' delight, the dogs went into the river 
> to demonstrate.  It's out there somewhere. 
>
> On Tuesday, March 17, 2015 at 9:35:33 PM UTC, facilitator wrote:
>>
>> I happen to be very humble.  Sometimes proud of it.   I did not answer 
>> myself.  Anyone reading that has to resharpen their senses so as to make a 
>> more simple response quite profound.
>>
>> Clearly their is something at work here which requires me know to 
>> "adjust" my dispenser orifice.  My narcissistic arrogance was not present 
>> at that age since I mostly found myself fighting off gangs from other 
>> blocks in my urban neighborhood.  Very little time to think past which 
>> alley way is the quickest route home. Being careful not to become cynical, 
>> I weave my way around and find no alley way. Expounding on this any further 
>> would probably cheapen the experience. Fascinating!   Thinking there might 
>> be a deity involved would be a first step, thinking I might be my own deity 
>> is not a step but a precipice.
>>
>> On Tuesday, March 17, 2015 at 5:13:36 PM UTC-4, archytas wrote:
>>>
>>> Knowing more than Tony is easy.  Like Zaphod Beeblebrox, his ego is 
>>> bigger than imagination from a slice of Proust's angel cake that took him 
>>> back to an aunty's.  Using such power to visit an aunt reveals a lack of 
>>> knowledge or a very dull boy.  As Tony cannot be the latter, one presumes 
>>> the former, though this does not exclude the possibility his ego is bigger 
>>> than the universe itself.
>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>

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