brilliantlydim said:
For me the hyperspace is very loud and fast with a lot going on, but when I am coming down and its completely silent around me I can hear the most interesting things. If I pay attention the silence becomes very loud and full of all kinds of frequencies and sounds. The more I focus on it the deeper it becomes and I get a sense of an unimaginable age to it. Like I can hear echoes from billions of years in the past. Its really quite something to witness and leaves me with an immense feeling of awe.
When I started down my DMT path I was originally very frustrated with external sounds while I was out there. If I hadn't quite fully broke through, and even during full breakthroughs I would find sound somewhat disturbing or distracting. Even so much as hearing a car horn honk kind of kernel-panicking the whole experience until it died down.
I lived on a busy street. Regular car traffic, honking horns, riced out subaru's blaring by with their coffee can mufflers. So my solution to this was to simply overload my auditory system with music. Entheogenic, Shpongle, stuff like that. And it worked a treat.
Then I moved. I moved to a little town so removed that after 9pm it was earily quiet. Coming from the city and being an insomniac I was immediately dubbed "that wierd guy who goes for walks at 3 in the morning." which lead to numerous chit-chats with the county sheriff about what I was doing out that late. From our duplex, in the middle of a still night with the window open and a tuned ear one could hear the 20 cows murmuring a mile down the street.
On just one such night I got the call to visit hyperspace. I loaded up my favorite playlist which starts with 'Midnight Eyes' and hit the spice. I'd forgotten to hit play though. From the silence I became aware of that sound that permeates hyperspace. That ringing cyclic, round-about turning rhythmic sound. The dancing jester before me moved with it, creation billowing forth with each sort of cycle of the sound.
I've heard this sound before. I've heard it here. I've heard it out there. I've heard it in lawn mowers and car horns, I've heard it in everything from techno to country, a baby's laugh and cry to my grandfather's death rattle. The Jester exploded in laughter and I sat completely upright gasping in a huge gulp of air from the depths of an ocean of hallucination and tried to stifle uproarious laughter as I let out a deep "AAAAAAAAuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmm....." that trailed off with the last bit of air in my lungs.
I'm paraphrasing Rohit Mehta here (probably horrifically so) from his writings on the Upanishads. The Symbol ॐ (AUM) starts at the back of the throat and ends at the lips, while rolling from back to front through all the possible sounds between A and M. It is everything that can be articulated. But just as important as what can be articulated is the in-articulable. The silence between. It is this silence between the recitations of Aum that it derives it's meaning. Without the silence it is...nothing.
Before the big bang there was nothing, then Bang, and here we are riding field perturbations that will ultimately die off to and ultimately cold and quiet death in the grand scheme of things. The universe itself is ringing with the sound of Aum.
Ever since this realization of sorts I've loved doing my trips without any music and listening to whatever sounds make it to my auditory center. And now that I've learned to sort of accept them, I have to laugh at how even a loud exhaust going by takes on this Aum quality in the hallucination. It is created quietly, gets louder and persists and slowly rolls right on through to it's destruction giving way to the silence between.
And as hallucination gives way back to reality I lay there listening to the sound of the universe becoming ever more distant and quiet and listening to the silence between sound.
