Journeys into the bright world

Marcia. I know. I was just on the outside like tinsel and paper. I wanted Christ and I got Santa Claus. I can see Santa now. I'd swap that Santa Claus for a crucifix any day. I understand now about the need for a therapist. Because left to myself I'd think I was completely awake. I can see the room. I know I'm back here.

Howard. You're not. You're still well under. You still have nystagmus (rapid eye motion). Nystagmus is a little flicker of the eyes.

Marcia. I wish I weren't a writer because when they feel things and then they try to put them into words on pages nobody else can really know or feel the same way. Christ and Santa Claus. You see I am back. I can tell because the motor's gone down. It sounds now like a record running down-almost to the point where it goes da-da-da-da. That's my theme song. "I wanted Christ and you gave me Santa Claus."

Howard. Well, It's Christmas.

Marcia. Yes, it's a Christmas tinsel, light and fluff trip. They're not going to give me the biggie yet. The next present will be after the New Year. This one was all pretty pretty pretty packaging. Tinsel and paper and fluff and light and love and massage and Merry Christmas. It was all Santa Claus and no Christ…

It's mad to say it. Maybe madness is saying things you think in your sane moments but don't dare say. Again and again, a thousand times, I look at your face and I think, Howard looks just the way I think of Christ. That face on the icon. I couldn't love God but I could love Howard. (At that moment Howard's face in repose actually was looking to me like the face of Christ.)

The Hindus are so lucky. They understand these things. You can read about it in the big Ramakrishna book. The mad woman who thought Jesus was her baby-only it was the baby Krishna. They know about finding God through the person you're with. They understand the divine lunatics. I can really understand guru yoga-finding God, or Christ, through the person you're with. But it's a terrible trip to lay on someone. To say, "You look the way Jesus looks." I never loved Jesus. In fact it was a real turn off-all those awful crucifixes. I hated them. But I could really love Howard. And to me now, Howard looks the way Jesus should have looked.

I wish I was a musician. I would write a song and call it, "I wanted Christ and you gave me Santa Claus."

I'm out now. I don't have the nystagmus. And you still look like Christ to me. There's a part of you that is of that archetype. That face on the icon…it's your face. The whole crown of thorns thing, the whole bit. (At that moment, Howard's hair, which is curly and stands out around his face actually did look to me like a crown of thorns. It was only afterwards, however, that I realized that with this intensely real vision I did in fact see Christ as well as Santa Claus. The difference was that Santa was a fleeting hallucination whereas my "Christ" was really there.)

Marcia. I was resisting. The goddess Ketamine has a wisdom of her own. I think it's just a matter of timing. This is what I needed today.

After I was well back to normal I encouraged Howard to take his turn. The following transcript is not very long because most of the time we were listening silently to Christmas music.

Howard. Everything is white. Pretty sound. Um, that punch smells good.

Marcia. I can't smell anything.

Howard. Save me some. That will be good when I come out. Promise me you'll have a cup of punch waiting for me. I can smell it. It's like my nose is in the pot. Hmmm, Mary's made her punch. I love Mary.

Merry Christmas, Ketamine. Merry Ketamine. (Long silence.) I know you love me and you know I love you. It's a whirlpool. I'm starting to go into the vortex. (Long silence listening to music.) That's Christmas. It's significantly significant. (Laughing together.) It's all together one. Wow, very pleasant. (More laughter. Wordless communication.) It's the most wonderful Christmas. Ah, that song is just perfect. I'll always remember this. Wow. Oh God! We're right back to God.

Marcia. We always end up there, don't we? He always gets into these trips.

Howard. This is the universal trip. Wow. Merry Christmas. The Sun and the Moon. I hate to sound so omnipotent. What a beautiful puzzle! Gentle…soft…pillow…fluffy…wow. (Slowly) Who am I? Why am I?… Time and hypertime. It's all love, happiness. Happiness has to have sadness… (Authoritatively) When I set foot on Ashram North… It will be, it will be. True Ashram North will be in the Olympic Peninsula. And they'll come from all over the globe… Remember, Howard Sunny, how powerful this medicine is. You have been chosen as the esoteric anesthesiologist to administer the esthetic anesthetic. Always remember and respect its potency. Marcia. Tell me more.

Howard. Away from the maddening crowd… I have this overwhelming feeling of love.

Marcia. It's the medicine of Venus, pure Venus.

Howard. Why do you love me so much? (Laughing) Is it because I'm God?

Marcia. Maybe.

Howard. We're all gods.

Marcia. You're my way of loving God, I guess.