The Night My Brain Exploded

(ALERT: NSFW language)

Here's a story:

My mom passed away on May 14, and we held her funeral on Tuesday, May 20. That night, I went to bed around 12:30. That's early for me - I wanted to be well rested for the drive back on Wednesday.

I don't know when Janet came to bed; that didn't rouse me. But when she came back to bed after getting up to use the bathroom, I woke up.

I did not wake up drowsy and tired. I did not wake up merely refreshed. I woke up surging with energy, feeling as if I were ready to explode, because of the dream I had just had. I said something to Janet about wondering whether I should tell her about the dream, but I needed to go to the bathroom.

Dreams fade quickly; by the time I wrote about the dream in my journal, some details had faded. But it went something like this:

I was, it seemed, a new employee in the marketing department of a large company. And somehow I was chairing a meeting of honchos. And I left the meeting and ran into someone from the design department - bumped into him so that he dropped his stuff - and as I was helping him pick it up, either I saw this phrase on one of his papers, or he spoke it: "Change the fucking world."

And it penetrated like a bullet, and set me on fire.

And I went back to my meeting, which was running late, or running long, or both, and instead of feeling scared because of that or apologizing for that, I went in with total swagger because it didn't matter that the meeting was late or long or both, what mattered was that we were going to change the fucking world. And I said so.

And I saw "change the fucking world" becoming a global mantra, with me as chief guru for the attendant movement. I saw myself, like Anthony Robbins (Has he stopped being "Tony"?), onstage in an auditorium filled with thousands - no, tens of thousands - pouring out verbal fire to help them change themselves so that they could change the fucking world.

I saw T-shirts emblazoned with a four-color logo: CTF*W. I saw bumper stickers with the same. Coffee mugs.

I saw myself re-ordering my personal relationships, putting family, friends and acquaintances on notice: "I want people around me who want to change the fucking world. If you don't want to change the fucking world, that's okay - but I gotta ask, 'Why not?'"

And there was was music - a throbbing anthem for full orchestra, led by brass.

And I woke up ready to change the fucking world, NOW.

On my way to the bathroom, I glanced at the wall clock in the kitchen and thought it said 6-something, and concluded that I may as well stay up, because there was no way that I could fall back asleep. I'd do better to start getting ready to leave - I felt like I could drive a thousand miles.

The music was filling my brain, along with the images of T-shirts and bumper stickers and me onstage before tens of thousands ("Now get outta here, and CHANGE THE FUCKING WORLD!" Crowd roar: "YEAAAHHHH!!!"). And, and...

I was linking "Change the fucking world" to the call of Christ and the identity of the Christian:

For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to devote ourselves to the good deeds for which God has designed us.     (Ephesians 2) 

"We're created in Christ Jesus to change the fucking world," I said.

And all of this is happening on a trip to the bathroom, and I want to ACT, so I pick up my phone to check the availability of the website address, changethefuckingworld.com, and I see that...

...it's 3:26 a.m.

WHAT???

I was totally jazzed emotionally, I was almost exploding with physical energy, and my mind was focused like a laser and racing like a lightcycle...

...on three hours of sleep????

I immediately wanted to know, "What brought about this phenomenal state, and how can I get it again?"

My best guess, then and now, is that my state was fueled by having drank multiple glasses of punch at the funeral meal, followed by two cans of Pepsi later. Both my body and brain may have been sent into overdrive by sugar and caffeine.

That answer's a bit disappointing, as I don't want to make massive doses of sugar and caffeine parts of my regular diet. But the question of how to place myself at will into a state of high energy, high confidence and high clarity remains intriguing, to say the least.

It's also possible that my state was fueled in part by a heightened awareness of mortality. I was already working at maintaining an awareness of mortality, so to the extent that that may have been a factor, re-experiencing the state would just be a matter of getting better at that.

For now, I am finding that the very act of recalling the event elicits at least an echo. I do, in fact, want to change the fucking world (tm).

No. Not "want to."

Intend to.

Rediscovered: An Ecstasy Remembered

My office occupies one of two attic rooms on the third floor of our house. The other attic room has accumulated God-alone-knows-what-all for a decade or more, and about a week ago I followed the impulse to start clearing out stuff that all reason says will never be used and no longer has value.

In the process, I am rediscovering long-ignored things that do have some value, including a journal from a time when I journaled sporadically.

Here's an entry from that journal, written at 6:30 am on Wednesday, December 5, 2001 (inspired by a device used by David Bradley in "The Chaneysville Incident," I headed each entry with a timestamp).

0630120501WE
I saw this one day while I was in the tub. I was not sleeping, so it wasn't a dream; but I dare not call it a vision. It was simply something I saw.
I saw my life as a single thing. All of my past experiences, my present moment, and everything I do in the future were part of this one thing. From birth to death, it was all contained in a single strand of light.
The strand of light was no longer than a piece of thread, but as I watched, it grew even smaller, as if I were backing away from it. As it grew smaller, I saw more of its surroundings. But I saw those surroundings as I'd never seen anything before, for I saw both space and time. I saw not only the earth upon which I lived, but I saw times before my life and times after.
The strand of light continued to shrink - I saw stars and galaxies, and I saw millenia and eons. And the stars and galaxies shank, and the millenia and eons shrank, until I felt that I was beholding the entire creation and all of time, as a single thing. And as a part of that thing, my strand of light was so infinitesmal that it was barely visible.
Then creation itself, and all of time, shrank, and I saw it all enclosed in a crystalline globe, which was resting in the palm of a lady's hand. Not just a woman's hand; a Lady's hand. And I realized that I was viewing creation itself, and all of time, from that Lady's point of view - that I was looking through Her eyes. And I knew that, while She saw all of creation and all of time, She was looking at that tiny, tiny strand of light.
Then it became clear that I was not only looking through the Lady's eyes, but that I was somehow part of Her, for I found myself sensing Her movement, feeling Her emotion, and sharing Her thought. As we gazed upon that miniscule filament of light, I sensed a smile coming across Her face, and I smiled with Her; and I felt Her sense of amusement as She and I shared this thought:
"To think that I once considered THIS to be my life!"
Thus the hallucination, for want of a better word, ended; and here my telling of it ends, for I have nothing to add.

Remembering that challenges me never to forget.

Do I need to say that the Lady is the ecclesia, the Bride of Christ? Okay, then; I have.