"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

- Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

ABYSS MEDITATION

John St. John

The following is an account of a meditation exercise that I discovered by accident while experimenting with altered states. I call it "abyss meditation" because I feel it is the most apt description for what I found.

Here's what happened...

At the behest of some friends of mine I felt it worthwhile to enter a "chemically enhanced" state of mind. While not opposed to the recreational use of certain substances to enter altered states, my personal viewpoint is that if you're going into the underworld you might as well come back with some gems, so I decided to do some candle meditation and journal the results.

I went into my room alone, turned off all the lights, and lit a small candle protruding from the mouth of an empty wine bottle. Sitting in the half-lotus posture and making every effort to breathe properly, I focused on the flame before me and allowed my mind to play off what I realized was an obvious analogy of the flame, the room, the darkness.

I came to many other important realizations, some of which are too complex to describe here, but the most important were:

•  the flame was my only light in the otherwise black void of my darkened room

•  the flame would only burn for a finite period of time

•  when the flame went out, I would be submerged in complete and utter darkness

And as I grappled with this last one certain feelings started coming over me which, undoubtedly enhanced by the psychotropic substance I'd taken, moved me to the depths of my being. I focused on the flame that much more, yearning for its light and silently praying that it'd stay lit even though I knew full well that sooner or later it was going to go out. And as the flame grew dimmer and dimmer I became more and more afraid, dreading the inevitable outcome that was at hand.

Then it happened—plop!—the flame went out and the lifeless wick dropped into the bottle, the eerie darkness of the room washing over me all at once like some black tide. What I felt then was the closest I'd ever felt up until then, or ever have since, to complete, abject terror. I wanted to cry out in anguish, I wanted to crawl into a corner, I wanted to run for the light switch like a child who's been spooked by the dark. I mourned the passing of the flame, wishing by some miracle that it'd return but I was alone in a darkened room and I knew that it wouldn't. And at this time the greatest gems came to me as I turned my direction of thought and let myself go, let the darkness take me where it would. I was in that state for quite some time before I finally decided to return to the world of light and "normal" thought.

As I flipped the switch I kept my realizations in mind, knowing that I'd stumbled upon something important. I've never been the same since. The aspiring psychonaut may or may not find it worthwhile to repeat this experiment or some variation of it. I encourage you to do so. Hopefully you are at a level where you can handle what it shows you about yourself before you take the plunge. On the other hand, some of you might be marveling or even inwardly laughing at the fact that a semi-religious experience in my life was triggered by a damn candle in a darkened room. But then this message is not for you.

John St. John is a practicing occultist who lives in Chicago and suffers from severe diagnosed schizophrenia. John St. John believes that he was Rasputin in a past life, that he is the messiah of the New Æon, and that he is currently inhabited by a goetic demon named Arkamphrael. He doesn't know how to use e-mail but he can often be found searching for the Philosopher's Stone along the lakeshore or sleeping outside the Flat Iron building should you wish to contact him.