Description of the realm of ‘dread, trance, and emptiness’

The dark night of the soul is the journey from:
Illusion -> Illumination -> Union.
During the ‘Illumination -> Union’ phase,
There are different bardo realms of experience to be passed through.

Here I’ll describe the bardo I am presently going through,
Which is of ‘Dread-Trance-Emptiness’.
The ‘dread-trance-emptiness’ bardo,
Has a lot of chaos, confusion, and disorganization
There is deep exhaustion,
In my ability to ‘be/become’ anything.

Like the king is unable to act anymore.
He is just a passive witness to his collapsing kingdom,
Which is falling into evermore chaos-confusion-randomness.
He has even lost interest/desire in it to keep it going,
And is simply now a passive spectator,
Of the spectacle of his kingdom falling into chaos,
And getting reabsorbed by all its surrounding forces.

‘Neglect’ and ‘Withdrawal’ of anything causes death of that thing.
So the process is very much like the process of conscious ego death.

This paradoxically feels like a descent and ascent at the same time.
The plunge into the depths is also the ascent to the heights.
To see everything from above is to see everything from below, and vice versa.

There is a process of passive purgation,
Of a journey into the purgatory playing/unfolding itself out.
I abide in this space passively,
In a ‘continuous falling’ into it.
It is like being in a kayak on a river current.
You cannot stop moving,
But you can influence the kayak with your paddles.

There is again a paradox here, that:
It seems deeply personal and yet so deeply impersonal at the same time.
Passions emerge, actions happen,
But the emptiness of all of it pervades my being.
Almost no experience is riveting enough,
To make me lose sight of the emptiness in the background.

I feel if I pass through all this madness,
I might bottom out and emerge on the other side.
This feels more like a time-energy thing,
Rather than a defined spatial thing,
Where there is a definite distance to cover.

The loss of identity,
Causes a fall into the shadows underneath.
Like sinking into the ground of chaos-filth,
From which the trees of identity spawn and return to.

This is a place where will/action are heavily suspended,
(Hanged man tarot archetype),
And one must mostly only abide/allow.
The only freedoms I have are to resist or allow.
And resistance hurts anyways,
So there is no actual freedom at all.

This archetypal chaotic dream madness (which is also the creative ground),
From which identities/egos in the world spawn,
Resembles the ’12th house’ described in astrology.
It is like the state of ‘dreaming and imagination’.
Waking > Dream > Sleep is what we ordinarily think.
But I think in the spiritual ascension path,
It is the reverse.
Being awake in ‘Sleep’ = Prajna (direct insight),
Being awake in ‘Dream’ = Vigyana (special meta knowledge),
Being awake in ‘Waking’ = Gyana (knowledge)
I feel like my awareness of emptiness is me being awake in the dream world/space/bardos.

This underground/underworld,
Feels like falling into a bottomless pit,
Where there is an infinite fall,
And where I am always in the center in spite of the continuously falling.
Only the scenery continuously keeps changing.
Sometimes I fall through clouds of scintillating mist,
Other times I fall through clouds made of acid.

The only way to communicate or share this experience with others,
Is through imaginative symbolic expressions.
A person going through a similar experience would probably instantly relate.
For others it may be a bit of a stretch to imagine/see.

The sufferings of Rahu Mahadasha (12th house)

This is from my own experience,
Of going through this for the past 7 years.
But I have written this post from the ‘2nd person point of view’.
This post might give some solace,
To all of those going through similar experiences.
I have observed that describing things clearly,
Takes a lot of weight off them.

Actual post:
I have noticed in the Rahu Mahadasha (12th house),
Numerous problems related to senses/nerves/body/pain/brain(mind) appear,
But all of them are unsolvable.
They come and go as they please, outside of your control.
You are only a spectator to all those events.
And if you research, you will get deep into rabbit holes,
Getting totally mired in swamps,
And deep complex pits of despair with nothing working.

The medical industry will drive you crazy into their hopeless universes,
Of terrifying conditions/issues/problems/diseases/syndromes/disorders.
The experience is just off feeling: Confused/Distraught/Terrorized/Despaired/Panicky.
Hopelessness/Futility/Desperation/Obsessiveness/Exasperation are the smells in the air.
You feel more and more inadequate and powerless as you keep researching.
But you can’t stop and you go down the rabbit holes more and more,
But nothing works, everything keeps on failing and confusing you.

Like existence has a conspiracy against you,
Where you helplessly flounder, flail, struggle, to no avail.
You feel assaulted/persecuted/victimized/targeted/oppressed.
All the pure sufferings of the mind.
Since the mind is what creates reasons, this is even beyond reason.
The mysterious moods/feelings/struggles just keep on coming,
And they constantly shape shift,
And escape all your attempts to research and pin down.
They come and go as they please, with you having no control.
You feel utterly humiliated, powerless, meaningless, control-less, and destroyed within.

The sufferings just keep playing out, everyday a new one.
It’s like falling through a valley of shadows, sorrows, miseries, and suffering.
All of it is suffered mostly in silence.
It would not help even if you spoke about it,
Because people would just avoid you like plague anyway.
It is the peak of psycho-somatic troubles.
The mind-body feel so merged, it is not possible to differentiate,
As to what is physiological and what is psychological.
It all assaults you together in ways you simply cannot get a hold over.

It borders on you feeling mad almost,
Because nothing of this world and its methods gives you any idea.
You are carried/dragged helplessly through a storm in the pitch dark night.
Not knowing where you are going or if your actions matter at all.
Nevertheless you can’t help putting a strong front,
And all of your intelligence and might,
To research and research, and figure some way out.

The thoughts that come to you are:
‘I wonder what the learning of this kind of Bardo realm is.
Is it just a quota of sufferings that I must go through to extinguish my karma?
Will this ever end? Will this fog ever leave?
What is the guarantee it will not come back?
How will I ever feel faith again in life if it can do this to me?’
You are then forced to surrender.
These experience unite death and life, and bring you back to the moment,
To a kind of primordial innocence.
When just about anything can happen, in total insecurity,
It challenges everything.
“Let thy will be done” is the feeling.

The descent into chaos

chaos

Essentially this experience of mine,
Is a descent into chaos,
Where my body loses its coherence,
And organizes itself around a swarm of chaotic desires,
That form the full backdrop of my experience (as shown in the picture),
While the foreground has me doing all the usual jobs to survive.

It feels like the state in-between lives,
Like a kind of bardo,
Like the night sky full of stars (unlimited possibilities),
Vs. the sunny sky (few overruling possibilities).

But this chaos is also the breeding ground,
For offshoots of creativity,
Because of the sheer awareness of swarms of possibilities.
I feel like I’m swimming in the very same ocean of chaos,
That the psychotic drowns in,
Because my eyes are open here in this ground.
I intuit that this seems like the precondition for psychological rebirth,
Where when the season is right,
A certain powerful creative influx will spring me out of this place/phase,
And organize my life into the next higher freq struct.

This lack of organization diminishes vitality though,
And puts me in a state closer to death.
Birth is really a state where an desire/inspiration seed is sprouting.
So in this case, one sort of returns closer to the seed,
Which is likely to sprout again from a new desire/inspiration,
When the outer conditions are favorable, like the Spring season.

Birth is like Spring, Death is like Winter, for the seed.
The cycle of seasons continue,
Resulting in cycles of birth and death continuously,
Until one transcends in their identity,
And when all desires are sublimated.

Birth and Death follow each other.
Every death heralds a birth following it.
This is the principle.
How long it takes is not as relevant,
That is only a matter of degree.

A short description of my experience

I experience life itself like a dream.
Where there is total subjectivity.
And “everything” could change into anything.
Absolutely malleable/changeable.
The “props” of my external environment may remain the same,
But the “dance” is in my body chemistry,
That can change the “entire relationship” I have with everything,
i.e. all of my thoughts/emotions/moods/feelings/perspectives/vision/projections etc.

Drugs really reveal this secret all too well,
That body chemistry shapes a tremendous/extraordinary amount of all of our experience.
Like esp. with marijuana and psychedelics, the alteration is phenomenal.
Chemistry and perception have a phenomenal correlation.
It can alter even time, space, and my whole vision about everything.
The body is like the million-chemical factory,
Controlled by forces from a higher dimension? (soul/karma/vasanas/engrams/samskharas/causal realm seed?)
Which are in turn controlled by the collective soul/collective karma/solar-system as a logos with planetary sub-logos etc.?

The only stable ground I see is ‘consciousness’.
That is the only certainty/ground I feel.
Everything else is super changeable in my experience,
Anything and everything can dramatically shift.
So there is a weaning out and a profound detachment that is deepening as this process is happening.
Sometimes I lose all energy, coherence, and suffer the dark night of soul,
Going through a hyper-negative sensitivity to everything,
In the cesspit of my wretchedness, despair, depression, reactivity, contradictions, confusions, paradoxes, frustrations, sufferings.
Like falling into the valley/pit of sorrow/miseries/pain.
Other times I come back with a bang, rise up to the mountains,
And regain coherence/meaning/purpose/direction/clarity with a sense of euphoria/insight/joy/beatitude.

I find the greatest/ultimate rejuventator for me is “SLEEP”.
Every “sleep” gives me a new lease of life.
Each day is a new life.
I live day to day, taking each new day as a life in and of itself.
My whole lifespan 85 years say,
Is really the aggregate of ~31100 sub-lives.
Every day I wake up to brave a new mystery/a new paradigm/a new context,
And by the night I am totally pooked/in deep fatigue.

My experience is like endless alternations of,
Coherence/Harmony/Purpose/Meaning –and– Confusion/Chaos/Suffering/Meaningless
Like mountain -> valley -> mountain -> valley…..and so on.
A constant agonizing alternation between ecstasy and depression.
With wild fluctuations in the influx and deflux of spirit.
My whole being is just an instrument that serves and abides in this mystery,
And rides its waves and dance.
I feel like i’m living in a constant Bardo realm,
With a very tenuous connect with the earth and body.

Like an endless fall into the abyss that will maybe drop me off in the next dimension.
Like being eaten by a Whale, and digested alive inside its stomach.
But maybe a day will come where I will open my eyes to the world again, not as me, but as the Whale,
And see through the Whale’s eyes and live in and as its being,
That has absorbed my essence into its.

The only one thing I desire is “spirit”.
I’ve narrowed it down to that after discriminating through all these extreme shifts.
When I am filled with spirit, life is wonderful.
In the absence of spirit, I am in deep agony.