I am standing with a bunch of men in a double line and we are all dressed in gray fatigues. It is a long hallway and the prison cells situated on both sides resemble small caves under the dim, overhead lighting. A guard passes me and on his command we all start walking. I think for a moment that perhaps I’m dreaming, but I am conscious of breathing and the sinking sensation in my stomach forces me to acknowledge the truth of the situation. I am going to be locked up in this place for the next 2 years. As I focus on walking to try and get the blood flowing in the early morning cold, the unexpected sound of an alarm going off somewhere reverberates throughout the long corridor…
There is music playing and someone is nudging me. I respond with a sleepy grunt and then hear the voice of my wife asking me something. I drift off again and suddenly her voice is much louder. “Give me my phone.” I look over and see both of our phones charging together on the night table. I unplug hers and hand it over while the musical alarm continues playing. Once she turns off the phone, I close my eyes and think to myself, was I dreaming of being in prison or am I dreaming now about being in bed with my wife? Everything in the jail seemed so real that I’m surprised I woke up here. For the next few minutes I simply lay still and think back over the last several years of my life, nervously trying to remember exactly when I was married or if I was ever in jail.
Later that day I shared my dream with a friend. “It was disturbing how real it felt,” I told her. “In fact, when I woke up I was compelled to try and account for the last 10 years of my life just to prove to myself I was never in jail.”
“That’s very weird,” she replied.“
“Do you think it’s possible that you might have tapped into someone else’s thoughts?”
“Who?” I asked.
She took a drag on her cigarette and said, “I don’t know. Can you think of anyone you’re connected to who’s been in jail?”
We stood there in silence for a few seconds and then she suddenly announced, “how about Timothy Leary?
“Are you kidding?”
“Why not?” she say’s. “You did a lot of acid in your younger days so you’re tapped into that wavelength. You’re also a fan of both Aleister Crowley and Robert Anton Wilson, and Leary admired Crowley and was friends with Wilson. Shit, you’re a professional Psychic.”
“Yeah, but I know next to nothing about Timothy Leary…besides, he’s dead.”
“Listen, this is a metaphysical argument I don’t want to engage in, although I do personally believe our thought forms can continue to exist in other realms of consciousness after the body dies.”
“Like for instance another person’s dreamtime?” she said.
The next day I began research into the life and work of the late Dr. Timothy Leary. Perhaps I would be able to uncover something about him that would offer a clue to finding out if I had actually shared another person’s consciousness or if instead I had just experienced a very imaginative dream? It turned out that it wasn’t long before I was able to uncover some interesting coincidences.
The first one was on You Tube and came in the form of an old song by The Moody Blues entitled, “Legend of a Mind (Timothy Leary’s Dead)”. I had never heard of this song before, though needless to say its subtitle did manage to strike a significant chord within me after the suggestion my friend had made.
The next discovery was also on You Tube and consisted of a 27-minute interview with Leary that was filmed when he was an inmate at Folsom Prison in 1973. This is truly an amazing document in that during the interview he seems a lot happier and calmer than many of the people you would encounter walking free on the streets. As I watched him I found myself saying aloud to the computer screen, “My God, what courage this man had. I wonder if he initially was as scared as I was in there?” Wait a minute, what did I just say?
The last thing I found turned out to be the sort of coincidence I was hoping to find, even though it had nothing to do with my dream. It turns out that Timothy Leary wrote a book in 1965 entitled, “Psychedelic Prayers.” It was a small volume consisting of 55 poems about his LSD experiences that was organized in the same format as the Chinese mystical classic known as the “Tao-Te Ching.” This was particularly shocking to me because my fourth book released in 2015 (exactly 50 years after Leary’s work) was also modeled after the Tao-Te Ching. The title of my book is “Liber Tao” and it contains 81 poems based on my insights as a Professional Psychic Counselor in NYC. The synchronicity of the two of us writing pretty much the same kind of book without my having any foreknowledge of his effort is quite remarkable, or is it? Did it happen merely because our minds were alike in some way, or did I actually share a moment in his mind?
In the days and months since my strange dream I have had a lot of time to reflect on the pros and cons of whether or not Timothy Leary and I could have transcended the normal parameters of time and space (as well as life and death) in order to share a period of unified consciousness. Though I am trying to remain open-minded and not dismiss the possibility of such an occurrence, for the life of me I can’t rationalize why such a thing would happen. Then again didn’t Shakespeare say, “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Yet why would a Cultural hero and a famous Philosopher like Leary, who’s ideas are still circulating 20 years after his death, need to connect with someone like myself? Is it just because I’m Psychic? Even though a psychic connection would be entirely possible (centuries of Mystical Literature would support that much) what would be the reason for Timothy Leary and I to share thoughts? He certainly doesn’t need me to be his spokesperson and I could read any of his books anytime I want.
It may also be I’m over dramatizing this and my experience wasn’t all that unusual. Perhaps everyone has the Universal Mind occasionally barge in on his or her little world and it’s no big deal, just a cosmic hiccup to be eventually misunderstood or forgotten altogether; unless of course enlightenment is in the cards for one of the involved parties? Now I certainly wouldn’t assume that any potential enlightenment would have necessarily been just for me because Mr. Leary is dead. Without getting into a serious Quantum debate, I certainly concede the possibility that Timothy Leary could very well be just as real wherever he is as I am right here and now. On the other hand, it may not even really be about a man once known as Timothy Leary or a “long-legged leaping gnome like myself” (as the song lyric goes). Perhaps this glitch in the Matrix I experienced is really hinting at a much bigger connection, infinitely bigger; like for example, God… Existence… Tao?
As Dr. Leary would say, “The Universe is an intelligence test” and “Your brain is God.”