POLK STREET- THE VISIONS

COSMOS

COSMOS


POLK STREET: 1976 After the opening of the Chakras- The primary series of visions took place in a San Francisco hotel on Polk Street and lasted for nine months. The hotel was cheap; I was almost penniless. The room was plagued with mice and roaches, and there was pandemonium in the halls. But I was completely engaged in the visionary experience, and it went on day and night. Most of the visions I had were topical, progressive revelations of the metaphysical structure of the universe. There were about five kinds of visions. The daily fare was a dim waking vision. I would be awake in a quiet room, looking inward toward inner space, with my eyes open and focused on a wall or ceiling, and seeing figures or diagrams of a struc-ture, generally becoming forgetful but not entirely unaware of my surroundings. More rare was the deep trance, where I would fall into deep unconsciousness and have full scale brilliantly colored visions. Then there is the full waking vision, where, wide-awake and sitting up, I would see a supernatural figure standing there. There are light sleep dream visions and deep sleep dream visions, and some experiences which would count as genuine astral traveling to higher planes.
On Polk Street there was the Dawn Horse bookstore, owned by the guru Bubba Free John. A film was showing there about the Tibetan guru Chogyam Trungpa. After the film was over there was the usual rustling of seats and people leaving. The door to my left was opened and the light from the hall came flooding into the still darkened room.
I could see the light out of the comer of my eye. The light started getting brighter and brighter but I didn’t turn my head to look at it. It became so bright that I began to realize that something unusual was going on. Then, out of the side of my head, I could see the doorway quite clearly. It was full of brilliant white light and there was a figure standing in it. It filled the whole doorway, wearing a flowing, glowing, white robe, and had long white hair and a beard, with a small round pink face in the middle of it. I was really quite amazed. The vision faded, and I left the bookstore without saying anything to anyone.
Returning from the market once I went up the stairs and down the hall to my room. The simple-minded caretaker was kneeling on the hall rug ripping the bottom of a large easy chair with a knife. Finding this unusual, I stopped to observe. In the cotton stuffing, lying on the floor, were twenty or thirty newborn mice. Cotton balls were squirming and turning into mice, and mice were turning into cotton balls. It was remarkable. I returned to my room.

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