The hum of the gongs ringing began to grow with great intensity, echoing the pitch of something so sharp that it cut me to my core. I bled deep from my soul. From the heart of the world I could feel the unfaltering vibration eroding the fabric of time, space, and my transitory view of how I fit in to this life.
As the summer days came to a peak, the full moon rose high into the bedazzling array of a celestial night sky. It had been a long day, I remembered; the summer equinox, true to word, was a scorcher. For three whole days, the sun's rays beamed down upon the earth, punishing it into a dry and rugged landscape. Winds rolled off the Spanish Peaks of Colorado, blowing its chapped-lip dry air into the camp, piling mounds of dust, and leaving no hope for sweat to cool our bodies.
I had another whole day to survive these conditions, but I decided I had taken the time to come all this way for the Sonic Bloom Music Festival; I might as well put on some flip-flops and proceed to groove on through without a worry on my mind except for where I could find my next sip of water and some shade.
What I remember most about this place, other than it being 105 degrees without a speck of cloud coverage for miles, was the uniqueness of the festival's people, and how they chose to express themselves. The crowd this genre of music attracted was a bit bizarre, yet strangely fascinating to observe and participate with. They were a mix of Rastafarian dread-head, dead-head, flower-child dropouts; peaceful people with a new vision of life who express, create, and inspire others to live the good life.
I found myself that night, wandering through the music festival alone, intrigued by my curiosity. I investigated every site and sound the venue had to offer. It was an electrifying feeling, walking through the festival and tingling from the energy that filled the air and passed through every animate and inanimate object across the land. There was a calmness in the breeze that night, a relief of cool air to soothe my body from the harsh heat of the day.
I strolled through the bright and colorfully lit trees of a psychedelic forest--obviously inspired by people on drugs, I assumed. Towers of perfectly balanced stones known as “rock stacks” were dispersed throughout the forest, adding to the abstractness and beauty of the venue. Bohemians sat in the dirt, trading rocks and gemstones. Artists sold vibrantly colored hallucinogenic paintings, and glass blowers shaped the most intricately designed pieces of art. True masters of the craft, the blowers would make anything from a tiny third eye pendent to a four foot tall bong, bubbler perks and all. With so many distractions, it was quite easy to forget about the three main music stages. The alternative sound waves blasted into the early mornings, attracting loyal crowds of fans, howling at the full moon. It was all so much to take in.
I made my way through a DJ set with a crowd of dirty, hairy, sweat-drenched “Wooks” (as many refer to them), all wiggling, squirming, and shaking every which way with their flailing limbs. The only way to get past these untamed animals was to behave in such a manner that called upon one's primal instincts. I began to monkey about in some instinctual tribal dance, like a game of hopscotch. I was able to maneuver my way past the crowd of trans-faced hippies.
Drawn to what sounded like a Buddhist temple of meditation, there sat a circle of people with stiff postures and closed eyes. Backs towards the middle, the group was enclosed by a larger circle of brass faded gongs. Intrigued, I joined the circle, grabbing hands with the person to my right, and to my left; I closed my eyes in preparation for what was to come next.
The hum was subtle at first; light tapping on the gongs made a vibration just strong enough to cause one’s body to relax. The man was small in stature, large in character, and began to move clockwise around the circle. He tapped steadily on the gongs as he encircled the group; each passing revolution's intensity grew higher and higher in pitch. My eyes closed. I could feel the vibrations shaking the essence of my being. There was a subtle shift in my awareness, almost as though I was looking down on myself. The self, what one calls “I,” slowly drifted away.
Presence was felt; one became the vibratory hum of the gongs. I sat cross-legged on the ground, hand in hand with strangers who, in one way or another, became connected with each other on a deeper level. The ever evolving flow of life came flooding in without the filter of the mind. I sat unmoving as I felt myself expanding into the surrounding space, lifted and filled with patience, observance, and a sensation of openness.
There was peace. Letting go of my worries came naturally here. I recognized the very idea of self as only an illusion brought forth by the mind. I was only aware, not thinking, just observing. Time was not linear; it was presence in the moment unfolding before itself.
For a short while, there was an understanding of how all life came to be, how the story the brain tells itself about our lives is a lie. Separateness dissolved into a completely free and open unity with the world and sat seated in the heart, bathing in the light of tranquility. There was a focused attention on the warmness in my chest; it stretched from my head to my toes. A connection to the alpha and the omega had sprung open, accompanied by a feeling of content and compassion for all things. The separateness society tried to inflict upon my life, waging wars against my mind, had no power here, as I had awoken from the dream and freed myself from its grasp.
To this day I wonder about the place I had been transferred to. It seems so close, yet so far away. Was it a dream? Was it reality? How can one be expected to differentiate between the two? A line had been crossed, mixing the constructs of my mind and sensations of experience all in one. I had come to the event horizon of all time, space and consciousness pushing through the vale of deception and free falling into reality. All that's left is to sit and wonder as to what I want to make of this life now.
