If you were still able to feel a self that thought it was yourself, you only got to the door, not the other side. You turned down the trial by not shattering the you that thinks it is you.
—Becoming Zherka was a nightmare.
There comes a moment in a psychedelic journey when consciousness becomes a roaring ocean, and you feel yourself drowning, unable to breathe, a place where the mind teeters on the edge of shattering. In that abyss, a thought of a loved one rises, a person who depends on you, and a quiet, resolute voice within whispers, “No. I must return to them on my own two feet.”
Instantly, the ground rises beneath you. You stand firm again, walking back into the world with the calm certainty of one who has been alone at the edge of the universe and survived, a nightmare transfigured into confidence.
This was the crucible of my initiation into true inner science, a trial I would not wish upon even my greatest enemy. Spirituality is no gentle fairy tale; it is a confrontation with the shadows in your own closet, demons that emerge only when you dare to do the deepest work.