I didn't know what to do in the presence of this Light. It was asking nothing of me. I was just basking in it and, again, trying to remain open to whatever happened. However, I realized I could observe It and report back to Mary and Matt. I wanted to shout, "It is true! It does exist!" Sometimes in a dream there is a sense that whatever you try to name or record will evaporate, but this experience in the Light remained steady as I tried to describe it, even though I was a little concerned that my sharing it might be sacrilegious and It would withdraw.
The power of the Light could have annihilated me in an instant, but instead It shone only as brightly as my consciousness could bear. The Godhead seemed to be lovingly limiting Its manifestation to what my own self-imposed definitions could perceive. This gave an "interspecies" quality to the experience, like the analogy of the fisherman and the mermaid – an understanding that as long as I maintained a human identity, we could not be joined in ultimate communion. The limitations were plainly mine, but the shared feelings of affection, longing and respect remained. The unspoken promise was that one day I would return with sufficient mastery to lay down my illusions, and the separation would be resolved.
And so, with nothing else to be done, we danced – that is as good a description as any. The Light waxed and waned, perhaps mirroring the processes of the psilocybin. It would shine brightly, then recede, leaving me in repose, peaceful and floating. Then It would return more strongly. It caressed me, holding me in the palm of its hand, so to speak, with exquisite tenderness and compassion. My eyes brimmed with tears of emotion as I was poised in this timeless state.
The Light spoke to me in the language of every human relationship – as if I were a child, a friend, and a lover. It told me It was pleased at my efforts to come and find It, and that It recognized my sincerity. At times the Light was playful, and we carried on nearly in giggles as if we had a secret. I teased Mary saying, "I feel like I'm on a private phone conversation with It, and you can't hear!" The Light and I continued that give-and-take rhythm, like a graceful and spontaneous duet, an intimate exchange.
We visited my cells so the Light could refresh and heal them. With its own sense of identity, the body rejoiced that for these moments the Light that constantly creates and sustains it was visible to the personal consciousness it supports, which I call "me." I was not a participant in this process, although I had to give my consent, because the Light and the cells shared a language my conscious Self did not understand. Matt reminded me the next day that I said I had watched It tapping my cells like a wand on a pod, opening them to reveal the light inside and showing them how to heal themselves. The experience was so convincing that after the session I was disappointed to find that my chronically poor eyesight was not improved….
And so the Light drifted away for longer and longer intervals, and told me It would miss me as we slowly parted. (That may sound simplistic and childlike, but it was my honest impression at the time.) I tried to memorize the details of how It looked and felt so I could hold onto the vision as long as possible, and even then I was wondering how difficult it would be to find It again at any time in my earthly life. But I told Matt and Mary tearfully, "I will always remember that it is possible." God chooses to reveal Himself. Once you have seen this Light, a deep recognition verifies that it is as powerful and moving as all the accounts testify. Even though it cannot be documented or proven, it is a one-hundred-percent convincing experience that so indelibly imprints the psyche that you declare, "Previously I knew it only intellectually, but now I am certain it is real."