(re-post: This weekend, May 7th, will mark the fiftieth anniversary of this event)
Being the second oldest in a large family could often be somewhat overwhelming; for myself, ‘quiet time’ was a scarce and extremely sacred commodity. As it happened, just a few blocks from home there was a place, a kind of a secret place, where I would go when I needed to just get away from people, the noise and the seemingly constant insanity of home-life in the mid-sixties. My old getaway spot, my marsh at the back of the field behind my house with it’s Red Winged Blackbirds and all its other assorted wildlife, had been gone for a couple of years now, filled in and replaced by an ugly high-rise apartment complex. (see: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/called-progress-roger-profundity-briggs-1?trk=prof-post ) The word “angst” wasn’t yet part of my vocabulary even though it was a big part of my everyday life in those days.
My new secret spot, about four short blocks from home, was on the north-western shore of Lake Ontario, in what was a small Canadian town just east of the industrial city of Hamilton. This was back in the days when Lake Ontario and Lake Erie in particular, and the other Great Lakes to a somewhat lesser extent, were so polluted that you could almost dig holes in the water’s surface.
The commercial and sport fisheries were all but a memory and what few salmon & trout still managed to make their way into the rivers and creeks, headed for their spawning grounds were wasting away, half dead, due to the pollution and what had been an out of control infestation of Lamprey. The shoreline of the lake wasn’t spared either, it was eroding away at an unprecedented rate and the government’s ‘Ministry of Conservation’, as it was known in those days, had piled great blocks of limestone all along the shoreline in an effort to stem the tide (so to speak) of the erosion.
The particular section of shoreline that this phenomenal experience is concerned with was backed by a sandy cliff some forty-five or fifty feet high. At the base of this, the ground sloped comfortably down for perhaps thirty feet at about a thirty-five degree angle, towards the limestone block break wall. Thanks to years of neglect, this sloping section of ground had now been wildly overgrown with bushes, scrub brush, tall weeds and was littered with the accumulated, windblown detritus of surrounding human habitation. I suppose it would be considered an eye-sore to most people but, to me, it was a quiet, sacred spot. It was a great place to sit and just chill out; away from the hassles of the world and it’s masses of short-sighted, capitalistic people.
Early one Saturday afternoon in mid-spring of 1966, I found myself once again at my ‘alone place’. As I sat there, enjoying the warm, early afternoon sunshine glinting off the water and onto my face and listening to the steady rhythm of the waves against the rocks blended with the mindless, twittering and chirping of the birds, I must have started drifting into a trance. My perception of that tiny bit of world which I could see from my vantage point didn’t really change, other than perhaps looking a little fuzzier, slightly out of focus and somewhat sepia-toned…….. Not quite as bright and sharp as it had been when I had arrived there just ten or so minutes earlier.
The birds seemed to disappear, no longer flitting about in the underbrush, no longer chirping or singing their cacophony of mid-spring foraging and nesting songs. The light breeze off the lake also seemed to diminish. It was a strange sensation as everything seemed to turn eerily quiet; quiet that is, with the exception of a faint but annoying buzzing sound that seemed to emanate from somewhere far off in the distance and yet it’s gentle vibrations, could be felt as if coming up through the very earth I was sitting upon.
I have no concept of the passage of time at this point. The only thing that I was really aware of was that almost pulsating, buzzing-vibration from either miles away or deep below (or was it just in my head?)
As I sat there, the world and its mad and mindless pace no longer mattered. There was only my little window of it that existed and…… And that damned annoying buzz which I’m sure was gaining in intensity. My thoughts, such as they were, were centered around what may be causing it, where it may have originated, why it was dominating my senses… and ‘Why’ did it appear to be getting more intense and coming this way?
Nothing else seemed to matter. The buzzing definitely was getting louder…., like a great tidal wave slowly rolling towards me. But from where? Across the lake? The light chop out on the lake appeared to calm with the vibration’s increasing frequency. Closer and closer that buzzing vibration came, gaining in intensity until finally it appeared to reach the shoreline.
To my amazement, the huge limestone blocks crumbled and dissolved, turning to dust, as this now almost visible wave of sound passed over and through(?) them. And still, the buzzing didn’t stop. Now, sounding like a hive of very angry bees, it continued on up the slope, dissolving and digesting everything in its path; speeding on up closer to where I sat. All the weeds, scrub brush and bushes crumpled into dust as the now seemingly visible sound wave advanced. I watched in awe, helpless to move as electricity ran from my tailbone and on up the length of my spine. All I could do was observe, filled with wonder as my feet and then my legs were reduced to dust before my eyes. The screaming buzz now sounding more like a dozen out of control dentist’s drills, was all around me, consuming me, dissolving me with its vibrational frequency from the tailbone on up through the top of my head, then moving beyond me, setting me free of my body and gravity’s grip with its passing.
My physical body had now completely disappeared, returned to dust and I sensed more than heard…. “Had that screaming buzz changed in tone? Yes!” Its advancement appeared to have halted and it was as if the Soul I am had now been liberated, finally set free from the limiting confines of the physical body I thought I was.
While floating somewhere above, I was able to look, to see and observe from within what felt to me like a shimmering bubble or perhaps a portal. I was struck with awe as all that remained of the land and the limestone break wall was a barren expanse of fine, grayish-brown dust.
Now calmly detached, and curiously observing, I began to notice more subtle changes to the tone of that mysterious sonic wave that had just dissolved me and everything else in its path. First at a standstill, a steady, persistent pitch….. and now, had the tone of the buzzing lowered slightly? It was as if the sonic wave had halted its advance and had now begun to slowly recede.
I continued to observe, from everywhere all at once, as the wave of sound slowly flowed back down the now dusty embankment, slipping back towards the water’s edge.
As the sound-wave retreated, I was awestruck by what was taking place. Where there once had been weeds, scrub brush, wild bushes and bits of wind-blown litter strewn about, then replaced by the barren looking dusty expanse, there was now the makings of a beautiful wild garden. As the buzzing receded back down the slope, lush green grass and multi-colored wildflowers of spring appeared all along its trailing edge for as far as my astral(?) vision could perceive. At the base of the embankment, in place of the rough and tumble limestone break wall, there appeared a glistening sandy beach. The scene brought about some early childhood mental images of the biblical ‘Garden of Eden’.
The birds had now returned but, along with the usual scattering of noisy sparrows, starlings and a colony of bank swallows zipping about, there were also a half-dozen or so species of magnificently colored birds of an unknowable species and beautiful songbirds of every description. The one thing that made me feel just a little uneasy was the fact that nowhere on the slope of that now beautiful, park-like embankment, did I, my body, reappear.
It was too much to take in. It was all I could do to maintain my position, floating, it seemed, perhaps fifteen or twenty feet (or perhaps even a thousand feet) above the spot where I had originally sat to contemplate the problems of that tumultuous, mid-sixties era; the greedy, aggressively destructive ways of a world gone mad and poised, it seemed to me, on the edge of self-destruction.
I could feel myself being drawn, pulled away. To where? I didn’t know, nor did I really care. I just wanted to stay where I was for awhile longer, enjoying this wondrous spectacle as it was unfolding there before me.
The continued retreat of that annoying, buzzing vibration, now reduced to a deep thrumming drone, once more drew my attention. It was amazing to watch. As it receded back across the almost toxic lake, the once brown, choppy water was turning a crystal blue-green as that inexplicable soundwave retreated over it. All of this adding even more wonder to the illusion of my magical paradise.
The world as I now observed it seemed devoid of all human habitation. My entire being was being flooded with love, awe, and wonder…… “Was I now perhaps seeing through the eyes of the Creator? Was I simply some astral or disembodied Spirit Being; there solely to witness the power of a much higher vibrational Being? Was I there to witness the workings of The Creator, cleaning up after some spoiled, careless children, to realize that the human race, while on it’s current, unsustainable path, is the only real blight on this, our Gaia, our Mother Earth? Or was I merely experiencing this phenomenon in order to understand that it was not yet too late… Not yet too late to realize, acknowledge and begin reversing the mess we were making of this world?
I’ll never know if there was some divine or ulterior plan to this still wondrous episode for at that moment, my world came crashing down. There I was once again, back on the ground, sitting among the tall weeds, the scrub brush, and litter.
Everything did look a little brighter now, the weeds, bushes, the birds and even the limestone break wall all appeared to glow faintly with iridescent colors flowing from within. To my dismay, however, aside from these strangely enhanced visual effects, everything appeared as it had been before that incessant vibrational buzz had begun. Looking at my watch, I was surprised to see that almost two hours had passed in what I might have sworn could have been no more than fifteen or twenty minutes.
Before making my way back home, I sat there for perhaps another half hour, gathering my wits the best that I could; all the while intuitively knowing that this was one afternoon’s events that, for the foreseeable future, I would have to keep entirely to myself.
Going over the events of that afternoon kept me awake for most of that night… and no, I hadn’t consumed any intoxicating or hallucinogenic substances. At the time, having no point of reference, I found myself grasping at straws in an effort to explain that mystifying occurrence. In my seventeen-year-old mind, knowing nothing of transcendental meditation, kundalini experiences, shamanic journeys or various forms of OBE’s, and in denial, I half-heartedly convinced myself that I had probably fallen asleep and simply dreamed it all. Now, all these many years later, I see it as being just one in what has become a long line of very profound, otherworldly, shamanic or meditative journeys and visions.
~Roger A.Briggs~