From the age of roughly 18 to 20 I experienced a strange sensation within the realms of sleep. Lying in bed, I would suddenly awaken--though in reality I was still in a dream--as an electrical current shot through my slumbering body. In shock then my mouth would freeze open in lockjaw horror, as a tingling sensation of pins and needles began to move across my body, and then soon after I would be jolted awake by the electrical/lockjaw horror of my uncommon dream.This occurred with regularity for several months, and I didn’t enjoy it one bit. It was frightening, and in the throes of these strange dreams I felt as if an alien influence was trying to take possession of my body for some unspeakable reason of evil.
During this time I went to southern Cal with my good friend Satchkins on a business trip, and while there stopped over in Ventura to visit Craig Egothany’s mom and sis who resided there in that haven of ultra-conservatism. MaryJane--Craig’s bisexual mom--was working at Camirrilo State Mental Hospital as a Psychiatric Social Worker. MaryJane was a refugee of the sixties, growing up as a radical free-thinking feminist through the seventies, on the way delving into drugs, mysticism and mind expansion, among other occult related phenomena.
MaryJane’s house was situated on a hillside, surrounded by the typical southern California brushfields with a five-acre avocado orchard as a backyard. Though the house was quaint and comfortable--with semi-hippie furnishings and eclectic artwork with which MaryJane had adorned it--she felt ill at ease there. To find out why, one night MaryJane brought home from work a couple of ‘sensitives’ whom she was treating at Camirillo, and they confirmed her worst suspicions, that the house was haunted by spirits of the dead. (That’s another story in itself.)
One night after a homecooked supper, Stachkins, MaryJane, and I consumed several bottles of wine, while waxing philosophical on the various meanings of life. It was at this time that I described to MaryJane the dreams I’d been having of the electrical current lockjaw variety. Instantly, her eyes lit up in cosmic recognition, as she grokked the higher plane my head was spinning on.
“You’ve been astral projecting, Adam!” MaryJane dramatically announced.
I’d never connected these dream experiences with astral projection. Now it started to make sense. MaryJane explained to me, as she saw it (and understood the phenomena from her own extensive experience and research) that what was happening with this electrical current, lockjaw and numbing sensation was the effect of my astral/spirit body leaving my mortal shell, its psychic energy causing an electric surge to course through me, freezing my jaw open in its passing, bringing a wave of numbness that began to develop through my supine frame as the psychic energy shot out of my human shell, in search of higher ground.
In the past I’d read here and there about astral projection in the Casteneda books, and in the teachings of ECKANKAR. Both seemed pretty far removed from me, and I never related them to my own personal experiences because I didn’t realize what was happening. (Much like my earlier UFO experience, I don’t know if what occurred to me during those spacey days was real or imagined delusions.)
“Astral projection,” I responded, astounded. “How do you know that’s what’s happening to me, MaryJane?”
From this point forward my wanderings within the astral plane started getting weirder and more productive. I don’t know if this was from the fuel MaryJane had now provided my ever-expansive imagination, or if I was progressing upon the path of wisdom to higher states that the guru-guys of old had mastered. There was a level of eeriness to these astral wanderings which made me fearful that perhaps some demon from the underworld was attempting to possess my soul, and that through the sinful activities I had practiced throughout the years I’d left my self open to demon infestation. To the uninitiated, I probably sounded like a prime candidate for psychological counseling.“Because, my dear Adam, the same thing has been happening to me for years.”
“Oh,” I said, awaiting for further clarification from that eccentric soul. (An Old Soul, as she often called herself.)
“Yes. I’ve been going through the same thing for years. Perhaps you’re at the point now where you haven’t, left your body. It sounds as if your astral body is just about to leave your physical body, when you’re jolted awake.”
“Now, regarding myself... Well, it’s pretty strange,” MaryJane continued. “What happens is that--once I leave my human body--I am transported to some other world where I inhabit the body of this monster who runs ‘round and ‘round in circles, never getting anywhere. Round and round and round. I’m still trying to figure that one out.”
“Wow, that’s a trip.”
In talking to my friend Jonathan Haireye about my astral wanderings, he related a passage to me from the Casteneda books where Don Juan told Carlos that one of the first steps of mastering control over your astral body was to be able--once out of body--to gaze down upon your sleeping shell where it rested on its earthbound bed. This was my quest, yet every time I started astral projecting I could never remember to do it, because once in that state you move to a different level where you are no longer Adam Gorightly, but you become a sort of pure spirit energy, rising from the prison of our corrupted physical bodies into the ethers of the astral plane. Enough rambling. Let’s get on with the actual descriptions of these astral experiences.
One of the first astral experiences I had after the MaryJane rap session had me rising from bed, still in the supine position, my astral body levitating into the mystical air, three feet or so above my bed. After a short duration, I was thrust once again back into physical consciousness, which always seemed to me like a slingshot effect, my spirit flung back into the sleeping hull, physical awareness jerking it awake violently from it’s psychic slumbers.
When in these astral states, my spirit body would zoom around at incredible speeds, making right angle turns as it traveled at warp drive, around the walls and beneath the ceiling of my room. But never once did my astral body leave the room; it would just soar around in speedy circles, like some sort of caged and deranged metaphysical bird, searching for a passage to the sky.
Some of my final astral projection experiences, were truly horrifying, when, after leaving my body, I began hearing voices as I floated around my room; the laughing haunting rumbling deep satanic voices of demons fucking with my soul and mind. I would awake from these vicious vignettes in a cold sweat, thinking my inner soul possessed by unclean spirits from the lower reaches of the astral plane. It was at this point that I made a conscious effort to cease with this astral nonsense, and soon after I never projected astrally again. Amen!
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