Hello;

I'll try to map out how I got to posting this topic, so you can understand.

I woke up with the 9 notes motif repeated in the song 'You Know You Know' (Mahavishnu Orchestra) in my mind. Then, the phrase 'Inner Mounting Flame'. (title of album). Then, I remembered, or it was thrust upon me, the sentence Meta wrote to my question 'when do the cows come home?': 'Whey they hear Krsna's flute.' I thought that was pretty neat, because now every time I see the cows moving around here, all pointed in one direction, going home, I'll think about that. In despite of my verboseness, I appreciate 'people of few words', lol.

Then I logged into my e-mail, to a certain newsletter I receive, the value of which I question but I keep it. The heading was 'Inner Flame'. I like coincidences. But was thinking, about something the Dalai Lama wrote, ( I like the Dalai Lama), about training our minds to focus, how we try and slip, try and slip, exercising. How the flame of my awareness is pretty easily blown around.

Then I was thinking about the 'Twilight Zone' here, where I like to cavort, because on the face of it, I do no harm nor do I experience any. Then, how Rod Serling familiarized a whole generation of watchers with the concept of 'dimension'.

Then I was thinking about the internet, and how I think of where I go as 'places'. Then I was thinking about Brainiac's story. How, stories, are dimensions, and how that particular one caused me to enter a world of hurt. How for me, it's being a 'dimension', allowed me to enter it, merely, as a place to experience it, but it didn't 'hit home' for me, although it did others, and when so happened, I experienced a continuity, not simply in the abstract, but back 'where I live', at which point it DID 'hit home'. This has been very confusing for me. Because people live in different dimensions, even if they are sitting right next to each other!

Maybe, some people have more control of their dimensions than others. If someone practices awareness, they ah, enact their values no matter what dimension they are in. Literature is certainly a 'place', wherein we 'make free', without the concordant physical effect, (although you look at Salmon Rushdie, just as ONE example, you can see this is not always true.) where we as readers or writers explore where we might not go bodily.

I like the dimension of music for this reason. I get attuned, and can play around. Someone said they experienced John McLaughlin's music (sorry I think it was Aran) as almost 'clinical' in its exactitude. There is a cerebralness to this music, I think maybe it makes you focused in NOT the lower chakras. Even if you don't believe in chakras, you can experience that that music puts you in a different place than say, the blues. (pah! colour is another dimension).

So all this to say, don't you have experience of living in different dimensions? For myself I have repeatedly tried to 'leave my body'; drugs, literature, music, et cetara, but at the end of the day at this time in my life I am forced to inhabit it more fully. Which I think is a good thing but it doesn't matter because it's happening anyway.

This may not be legal but, I thought Brainiac's story, opening as it did, with the 'either God is this way or that logic', was an experiment in a dimension on which he thought it was safe to go, because it was 'words'. I also thought this, but then realized that for some, 'word' is 'deed'. Just lookit that!

And in some dimension, I will look at cows, and wonder what they're hearing.

And on another, I will hear those 9 notes, as I am right now, even though the tune is not coming from a CD, but my mind echoes, and think 'What do I know?'

And the Dalai Lama has this thing about watches. He, whose flame is certainly steady, has a thing about watches! Isn't it funny? Maybe on some dimension also, he, doesn't harm the Chinese government, even in his dreams. But I do it, for him, I go and kick their shins and shake them 'til their teeth rattle. Who is responsible for that?

I was thinking, that maybe there are contiguous, simultaneous dimensions, all of which are real, if anything is real.