My strange story
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I guess the purpose of this post is to relieve my burden somewhat, and see what reactions I get from what I judge to be an open-minded group of people sharing similar beliefs to my own. I have never given this full an account of my story to fellow believers before, but this seems like the time and place. Internet anonymity can be a wonderful thing.
I'll ask you not to judge me for my use of illegal drugs. It's not something I'm proud of, but I recognize that I would not have become a believer without them.My path to submission has been unorthodox, and profoundly mystical on occasion. I feel strongly that I've been guided on this path, that it is the path I must take. Every attempt I've made to stray has only brought me grief and heartache.
Some events I describe may seem overly dramatic, or even "biblical", but they are true never the less.I was born and raised in northern Scandinavia in a secular home. I grew up as an agnostic/atheist.
These are some key events that have marked my path
The pillar of fire (age approx. 9)
On a winter night, after playing in a snow cave excavated from a huge pile of snow at the end of a dead end street. Beyond laid only forest forest for many kilometres. I was with a friend (who remembers this episode very similarly to my own recollections). We were walking towards our homes, our backs towards the forest. I heard a sound I can hardly describe, like a roaring, all-encompassing base chord in perfect harmony. Turning around, I saw what looked like a vertical, narrow rectangle, apparently some distance into the forest, significantly taller than the trees in front of it. It was burning bright with yellow fire. I stood there, transfixed, feeling a deep emotion I didn't understand. My friend and I both turned and ran.
The next day we ventured out on the snow on skis to where the thing appeared to have been, but found nothing. No prints in the snow, no road or path, no signs of fire.
I told my parents and anyone who'd listen about what I had seen, desperate for an explanation, but their attempts at rationalizing the phenomenon frustrated me. I was never called a liar by anyone, but I felt no one but my friend believed me. I hadn't seen a brightly lit construction crane or the launch of some fireworks. I hadn't heard a diesel engine. Still, I did not want to believe, and I (almost) forgot all about it after a while.The first nightmare (age approx. 12)
During a high fever I had an extremely vivid and terrifying dream. Under my bed there was a complicated and infernal machine, I think a nuclear bomb, about to go off, about to burn the children I could hear playing outside, about to kill countless innocent people. Only I could stop it from going off, except I fell short. It was all my fault.
I woke up senseless, terrified, shocked. The fear and anxiety stuck with me for a long, long time. Eventually the memory faded, but the emotional scars remained somewhere deep in my soul.The preaching (age 14)
All I remember from this is a momentary visual image. I was standing in a parking lot, about to go inside a dance hall (yes, the dreaded, most awkward puberty dance). Looking at the sky, a beautiful red sunset, everything looked different somehow, like I had learned an entirely different way of seeing.
Later, friends told me that I was quite out of character that night. They say I was claiming a different name than what my parents gave me, preaching about God with some eloquence, attracting an audience. I don't remember this at all, just seeing that sky in that way.
I didn't remember, and I didn't believe.Becoming a believer (age 24)
Midnight, midwinter, no clouds, northerns lights sparkling.
I sat naked in a big hot water tub with a friend. I had taken a small dose of psilocybin mushrooms (my second experiment with this drug) as well as some cannabis.
In an instant, everything looked different, clear, full of detail and fidelity. The first thing I noticed was the surface of the water in the hot tub. I could clearly see interference patterns I'd learned about in physics class, but never truly seen before.
I lifted my eyes to the night sky, and I was blown away - it all became clear. Rather than seeing things like I usually perceive them, with all the celestial bodies projected flat and at equal distance against a black backdrop, I saw space. The newly risen gibbous moon hung there like the sphere it is. Beyond it space continued to the orbits of the outer planets, and beyond, and beyond... Then stars, more and more space, then galaxies, and more space still. I glimpsed infinity, from the very large to the very small, and my place in the middle. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I realized at that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the One True God had created it all, me included. I wept.
I felt this moment had a profound connection to what I had seen in the parking lot at age 14. My whole being was resonating with a beautiful harmonious chord, just like I'd heard when the pillar of fire was burning. I was not afraid this time, but overjoyed.
Then I fell from grace, chasing after Satan. However, I didn't quite manage to forget, or stop believingdrug abuse and depression (age 24-2
I desperately wanted to see again. I went about it in all the wrong ways. My heart was proud, and Satan was strong in me. I took more mushrooms, more cannabis, desperately wanting to see again. but for all the wrong reasons. I tried to steal enlightenment like a thief in the night. One mushroom trip burned me badly - or rather, I burned myself through unrighteousness. I fell into an emotional abyss where there was nothing but fear and anxiety. I was back in the fever nightmare I had as a child, which in a way was something of a comfort - I recognized the place, and knew that it was possible to climb back out again. It took two joyless, terrible years and the love of a woman to recover. The scars were deep. I have not taken mushrooms since that day.
Getting in shape (age 27)
Depression, gluttony and sloth had made me a fat. While walking alone, stoned, in the middle of the night, (wanting to see the sky, as usual) I got an overwhelmingly powerful feeling in my heart that God wanted me to do better. I had a "vision" of what my body could and should become, leaner, stronger, healthier. I bought some shoes and started running. I kept at it.
the first call to walk, defiance and thunder (age 2
I had stopped smoking cannabis for a period, since I felt it made me psychotic and anxious. My woman left me. My parents brought me on a trip to the mountains to cheer me up. I was riding a rented mountain bike rather than walking. I rode up onto a small mountain top where there was herd of reindeer in view, and felt a compulsion to smoke some of the cannabis I had felt equally compelled to bring in my pack.
I fell down and prayed, and got the strongest feeling of guidance in my heart. It was not words, but if I have to paraphrase it felt like WALK! LEAVE THE BICYCLE AND COME WITH ME.
My weak faith and fear kept me from obeying. I turned my back on the calling, got on the bike and headed down the mountain. Then lightning struck. The world turned bright white. I could feel a faint electric shock travel up my arms through the handlebars. The roar was instantaneous. I threw myself off the bike and curled up like a fetus in a little depression in the ground, beseeching God not to kill me, as lightning struck around me again and again.
When the storm had passed, I went home.Intermission (age 28-31)
I stopped taking all drugs, including coffee, ran a lot, and stopped actively seeking God. I tried to forget, but couldn't quite do it. Occasionally, I would feel the need to prostrate and pray. I had some dreams that taught me some important lessons, but I felt I lacked the courage to continue seeking, and decided to do something else with my life. I ended up moving to the city and attending medical school. After some time, it became clear that I was on the wrong path. I desperately sought a solution allowing me to stay in school, which led me to try antidepressant pills and organized religion at the mosque. While helpful, that form of faith didn't make me happy, and neither did the pills. I didn't feel any inner peace until I let go of my worldly ambitions, accepted that medical school was not my path and dropped out. I felt lost, but not deeply sorrowful any more.
Second call to walk. Submission.
About a week later, one early morning in May last year I packed my bag, planning to pray at sunrise on a small mountain near my home. In addition to warm clothes, I threw some things into the pack that I thought would make for a pleasant morning, since I wanted to spend a few hours up there, taking in the view. I had a parachute hammock, a thin sleeping bag, a knife, some rope, a water bottle... I also brought a small amount of cannabis (which I hadn't touched in three years) and the means to smoke it. I left my compass at home, since I had a good landmark towards Mecca from my last time I up there. I left wallet and phone too.
I rode my bike up the mountain, got high, and prayed. Again, completely unexpected to me, the compulsion to WALK! LEAVE THE BICYCLE AND COME WITH ME. I submitted and walked, on faith, with no destination, feeling I was the most blessed man alive, feeling like a Muslim for the first time. Thank God for second chances.The story of the walk, where it's taken me and what I learned along the way is a monster post in itself. Suffice to say that I didn't make it further than some 1000km before settling down among new friends, where I remain. However, I like to think I'm ready and willing to up stakes and leave it all, should I ever feel the guidance in that direction. I have taken many a wrong turn, stumbled and fallen on occasion, I but I have yet to turn back. This is my path, and I'm done trying to fight it. giveup
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Great post Josef. welcome
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Welcome Josef welcome
You said
I lifted my eyes to the night sky, and I was blown away - it all became clear. Rather than seeing things like I usually perceive them, with all the celestial bodies projected flat and at equal distance against a black backdrop, I saw space. The newly risen gibbous moon hung there like the sphere it is. Beyond it space continued to the orbits of the outer planets, and beyond, and beyond... Then stars, more and more space, then galaxies, and more space still. I glimpsed infinity, from the very large to the very small, and my place in the middle. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I realized at that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the One True God had created it all, me included. I wept.
I felt this moment had a profound connection to what I had seen in the parking lot at age 14. My whole being was resonating with a beautiful harmonious chord, just like I'd heard when the pillar of fire was burning. I was not afraid this time, but overjoyed.
Then I fell from grace, chasing after Satan. However, I didn't quite manage to forget, or stop believingI have had almost the exact same experience handshake. I also had a strong sense that we would be returning to the one God and that everything is the way it should be i.e. in submission.
Regards,
Al
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welcome welcome
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Not a week ago, I felt shackled and bound by what turned out to be falsehoods attributed to God. My recent rejection of Sunni islam has freed my soul and made my faith not only stronger, but easy to bear - or rather, I feel my faith is carrying me now, the way it should be.
I have had almost the exact same experience handshake. I also had a strong sense that we would be returning to the one God and that everything is the way it should be i.e. in submission.
I find this very intriguing. I have never met anyone who's claimed to share this experience with me before. Would you like to tell me more?
The journey continued
So there I was, on a small mountain top, committed to submit to a path not of my own choosing. It was laid out like a straight line, an invisible yet obvious laser beam of compulsion, straight as an arrow. I had to go down the steepest part of the mountain. I humbly submitted my desire to retrieve my backpack, two steps behind me, as I thought it useful to me. This was granted, as well as a general equipment check. With tautened shoelaces, tight straps and closed zippers I slid down the steep slope safely and went along. My heart guided me with force, yet submission was joyful and easy. It was around four in the morning, full sunlight due to the northern latitude and the season. I saw many hare and deer. Birds sang, flowers bloomed. I was surrounded by creation at the height of its glory. I had great clothes, good shoes, matches and a knife. I knew no fear, only gratefulness.
As forest gave way to streets and houses I jumped a fence or two, careful not to deviate. The city was still asleep.
I realised that I have walked to my sister's apartment building. I punched the code and entered, climbed the many stairs and knocked her door. Her man opened, sleep drunk but polite. My sister met me at the door, alarmed. I told her of my leaving, tried to explain, told her that I had to. I gave her my heavy key ring and adjusted my clothing by removing the insulating liner I had worn under my gore-tex shell. I hugged her. She cried. I was happy. I felt alive.I walked on. Scandinavian suburbia, slowly waking up.
After a short wile I got on a metro train. A big door past the turnstile was opened by a cleaning crew, and nobody was in the control booth. I rode south to the end station, grateful for getting out of the city fast.
As I left the train and headed south I quickly reached meadows and forest. I stopped for rest and prayer. High, in every possible meaning of the word.
I walked for some time, and saw an old man by the side of the paved bicycle path, gathering nettles. I helped him. With his scissors and my gloves, we gathered the stinging nettles (cha-ca in his language) quickly. He spoke chinese and russian, I didn't.
Gathering his things, I noticed a prayer rug. I introduced myself as a Muslim, joy ensued. We both speak a few arab words. I told him I was on hajj.
-Mecca? he asked me. I shrugged.
The old man invited me home, and fed me bread and fish he had caught and pickled himself. As I ate, he patiently argued with his russian wife, who clearly thought I was insane, and that Lenin was what mattered, not God. She inspected my gloves, hat and sleeping bag and let me get on my way, less concerned.I walked for a long time. I slept in the sunlight on a meadow. I walked some more. As dusk fell, I had some aches and pains. I had trimmed my toenails with my knife out of necessity, and I was getting blisters. My underpants weren't good, and my groin was chafing.
I walked past three plastic wheeled refuse bins standing on the roadside. I felt compelled to open the rightmost one, where I found underwear, all new and clean, neatly folded. It was all in my size. There being too much to carry, I selected the two pairs of elastic boxer briefs, the three pairs of socks, two black t-shirts and a white singlet I would later discard without ever wearing. I also strayed by going dumpster diving on my own accord. All I found was spoiled food and tempting but impractical clothes, so I stopped.I was very hungry, feeling the effects of low blood sugar.
I picked up a paper bag, and it was full of candy. I deemed it all of the gelatin kind. I knew it was from swine. I searched my heart carefully and discarded the sweets.
The short night passed. Emerging onto a suburban villa street after sitting down to change socks, I was spotted by a man asking what I was about, noting that I was all dressed in black. My answers didn't satisfy him, as he took me for a potential thief. Minutes later I was hailed by a man in a big truck who insisted on giving me a lift. I went along, and he took me far to the north, meaning I had to backtrack for hours. I took this as a just correction for my previous mistake of falling for the temptation of the train. After this I walked exclusively for months.I reached a small suburban center. The library was closed. I felt ravenous hunger. I pondered my options for some time, swallowed my pride and entered the small shopping center. The first man I asked refused to buy anything I possessed for any sum of money, called me a lazy bum who had misunderstood my religion, but told me I should ask "the Muslim who sells clothes". I sought out the mild looking man with shaved head, no beard and rosary beads. I told him I was Muslim, walking, very hungry and asked if he wanted to help me. He inquired for a sum and gave me eight times what I'd asked for with a promise of more later should I need it.
I bought peanuts, bread, flour, salt, yeast, instant coffee, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste. I still had plenty of the money left.That was the first and last time for a long time that I asked anyone for anything save water. I haven't been without food since.
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i think i will strive to reserve capital letters for things regarding God henceforth, for clarity if nothing else
i find free contact prayer liberating. i kneel, prostrate, bow, breathe, stand as i wish, feel that i must. i still think al-Fatiha may indeed the the Key, but it's not about the words themselves, but about feeling their profound meaning. God, Merciful Creator of Everything, my Judge and Saviour, Guide me on Your Path. Words can only take you so far when it comes to feeling.
in arabic they are some truly beautiful words though... ar-Rahman e-Raheem... -
I find this very intriguing. I have never met anyone who's claimed to share this experience with me before. Would you like to tell me more?
It was a couple of years back. I think I was 18 at the time. I was at a small gathering of some high school friends. This people were heavily into serious drugs and convinced me to have some weed. I had only ever tried weed once before, and utterly hated the experience. So I convinced myself to try it this second time since "I was with my high school friends" and we were all now studying at different Universities etc. Just making excuses.
This second time was ALOT worse. I experienced effects of
http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derealization
http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Depersonalization
http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intrusive_thoughts - Thoughts of rejecting God and good (at the time I was a borderline atheist and very arrogant). In fact the thoughts were so strong that I thought they were "alive" / were voices speaking to me.
http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_attack -I thought I was going to die or become insane. Since I did not believe in God or good I thought "this is the end for me". This coupled with the intrusive thoughts made for a very scary experience (it was and still is the worst thing that I ever felt in my life).Bottomline is, I felt terrible. So in a panic, I called my brother; who was sober. He didn't smoke, or drink and had a strong dislike of intoxicants. I convinced him that we needed to leave NOW. So we walked away from the gathering to clear my head.
Unfortunately, it had no effect and my state of mind was only getting worse. Having no other options, I started to pray to God. I It was the first sincere prayer I had made since I was a child. I did not want to live, and I did not want to die. I desperately asked for help and proof of his existence.
Initially nothing happened, so I began to despair since now I felt that I had nothing else left to do. I am not sure how but I became aware of my brother, and this in turn had a cascade effect which reminded me of all the good things in my life. I suddenly knew that there was such a thing as "good". My mind made a sudden shift from Moral nihilism, to Moral universalism.
All the effects of intoxication and dread very quickly left me. These were replaced by another strange and even more powerful feeling.
I lifted my eyes to the night sky, and I was blown away - it all became clear. Rather than seeing things like I usually perceive them, with all the celestial bodies projected flat and at equal distance against a black backdrop, I saw space.
and
I glimpsed infinity, from the very large to the very small, and my place in the middle. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I realized at that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the One True God had created it all, me included. I wept.I no longer felt any fear of death and all my worries became insignificant. I realised that there was a God, and he was a "good" and ultimate power. Space looked awesome, everything in the environment felt "alive". The world was part of something greater and not just a product of chance.
I am not sure how, but I calmed down and went back to my friends. I did not tell them anything that happened. Later on however, I told my brother...
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that's a great story aalmakto. handshake
did you find that the experience altered your outlook on things permanently? if not, did you feel the backslide from this insight to be a great loss?I of course was in awe that something like that happened to me.It had an immediate affect in that it strengthened my belief in God and the afterlife. I was more humble as I began to realise my mortality. Unfortunately, I was still was obsessed with parties, going out etc. and for a long time afterwards I did not change in a visible way. But inside I was beginning to question what I was doing, and whether it was "right".
I also began to seriously read "spiritual" books searching for anything that could explain what happened. Most of what I read were New Age or had elements of the Eastern Religions in them. Reading them only lead to frustration. As I read through the books I would eventually come across an idea in the book that I thoroughly rejected. When this happened, the book became tarnished in my eyes and would be promptly "dropped" from my agenda.
So overall, the experience made me more aware of the spiritual side of life and set me on the correct path of learning and being sceptical of what people around me are telling me (since it was emulating my surroundings/friends that made me a hedonistic, atheist wannabe). However, without further guidance I was still confused and aimless. You can say the experience was a turning point that eventually lead to me reading the Quran and agreeing with it. Even though it took quite some time before I actually read it.
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Peace Ironsky,
Glad to see you are posting again )
I know it may sound as though weed has benefits and our stories show that something positive can come of it. But I think smoking very nearly ruined me. If I did not pray and have the subsequent experience. I think I would have been mentally traumatised from it. I foolishly thought it may have been the drug that caused the experience. So I smoked a third time. This time I once again felt bad (although not as bad as the second time).I never touched it again and warn people against using it.
3132 And when waves surround them like mountains, they call on God, sincerely devoting the system to Him. But when He saves them to the shore, some of them return. None discard Our signs except those who are betrayers, rejecters.
I think the above verse is similar to what happened to me. So I would not say the weed is what saved me, as I know what happened and the order in which events proceeded.
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Wow who would have thought a drug would make you see things that your natural sight ability couldn't.
Is it really seeing it through more vision? it's so weird.. but then again different animals have different kinds of vision.. but drugs do this?? odd..
amazing though alhamdulillah it has lead to belief and towards good things not the other way..