Journeys into the bright world

At that moment, the idea of formulating a new set of body-repairing archetypes seemed entirely feasible. I envisioned groups of people inhaling ketamine vapors and then lying back while positive affirmations were systematically stamped into their psyches. What a beautiful way to treat obesity, depression and addictions! The idea seemed enormously exciting and I was sure it could be done. This would be the therapy of the future.

Returning to my normal flattened-out state, however, I had my doubts. Not about the process but about my ability ever to convince the public to try it. What, after all, had the medicine really done for me? Yes, my fingernails had improved. But honesty compelled the admission that my face really hadn't changed much. Nobody was about to mistake me for an Egyptian queen even if I did feel a new inner glow. Time may be the great healer but it is a terrible beautician, and we were still functioning in time's domain.

Leavening lead-that was my body assignment and I still couldn't figure out how this alchemical miracle was to be accomplished. The whole conundrum sounded like a Zen Buddhist koan that wasn't even supposed to have a proper answer. Would the way be shown.

In the meanwhile, our daily life remained active and fulfilling. Now that we were spending more time with Howard's bouncing ten-year old daughter Valerie I began to think of taking up a hobby that we might enjoy together. For years the pastime I had most wanted to cultivate was the making of windows, lampshades and the like out of bits of colored glass. First there had been no time for such an occupation and now there was insufficient space. However, when Valerie and her friend Cathy came for the weekend I did purchase some ready-made molds and glass beads with which we could experiment. The idea was to arrange the beads within the forms and melt them in the oven to produce suns, stars, flowers, animals and so forth. The process turned out to be surprisingly easy. Watching the individual globules fuse into glassy patterns pleased me beyond measure and I resolved to look into the possibility of ordering the beads and lead for frames in substantial quantities.

After we had completed our handiwork I gathered the leftover beads, laid them out concentrically in the fluted heart-shape mold that hangs on my kitchen wall, and placed them in the oven to bake. I hadn't expected that the finished product would be worth even that minimal effort, but to my surprise the resultant red heart surrounded by radiating orange and white bands looked as though it could provide a base for some interesting free-form effects. Using a hot knife I carved the fluted edge to resemble wings and then reheated the emblem so that the wings could be bent back into a more pleasing shape. Even so, the effect remained crude and I chastised myself for puttering over so unproductive a task.

That evening while Howard was driving Valerie and Cathy home I decided to take a mini-trip into the bright world. We were now establishing a routine of low-dose predinner sessions about once a week, but these occasions were mainly for enjoyment.

Our "ketamine hour" facilitated a "grooving together" that we had both come to anticipate as an effective way of transfusing the love magic into our steadily deepening marriage relationship. This time, however, I decided that the trip would be especially for me.

Lifting off, my mind was still preoccupied with those multicolored glass beads flowing together in delicate traceries of light and dark tones. In the background was the rising beat of soft-feathered wings fanning outward. Then came a clear vision of the image I had been trying to formulate. It was a clear ruby heart with crystalline wings-a heart which was now transforming itself into a chalice. At that point I was still sufficiently caught up in my bead-making mania to try to figure out how it might be possible to construct a container in thatparticular shape.

For some reason this chalice was drawing me back to Egypt. Not to the dynastic land of the pharaohs but the archetypal Egypt, "the mother of mysteries" whose location was still an enigma. But why the preoccupation with this one particular culture? Ah, now I grasped it. The Egypt that we knew about had been the injection point for energies which circulated throughout the globe, just as one small spot on my skin had been the injection point for the ketamine which was now moving throughout my body. That other place, which I still associated with Venus, Sirius and Gemini had been the original prototype. Now, however, the artifacts of the earthly Egypt had been transsubstantiated into an enormously potent thoughtform which could still put us in touch with the eternally existing Motherland. Briefly I glimpsed the goddess Isis holding the ankh, the symbol of resurrection and also very similar to the astronomical symbol for Venus.