My rather dark journey into chaos holds an important truth. Those who seek to learn the workings of creation (or be saved from them) need only ask God for help. In my case I also asked to see the kingdom of God. I’m sure that I didn’t say “kingdoms,” but that’s what I got. There exists an endless number of kingdoms. Some are ruled by living beings, God, or both. And there is at least one realm I know of that doesn’t seem to have a ruler.
Chaos. Imagine yourself cast adrift in a realm in which the smallest thought cannot exist. Whom will you call on when you can’t remember your name?
Where are you right now?
From beginning to end, creation is composed of thought. Right here on earth, for example, there exists a peaceful realm in which war and death do not exist. Don’t believe it? Turn off Fox News for an hour. Because mind and thought are all that exist, we may shift our reality as we please.
In some cases, of course, it’s not as simple as all that. We are but small children who dwell in a limitless expanse of consciousness. All of us are free to surf as we wish, but without a channel guide it’s easy to lose ourselves in the unimaginably complex mind of our creator. We can also get locked out. In light of these risks, a chaperon is always nearby and ready to rescue us.
Should you ever get lost in any context, remember this point.
What is chaos?
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
Was that an image of chaos just there? If so, did God create the formless darkness or did he emerge from it? Based on how we view this image, the Bible’s creation story supports either possibility. One thing is certain, however. The “formless darkness” still exists today. Chaos is a silent, dark, dreamlike realm. There is no memory of how we got there or how to find home. In small ways, at work or at home, all of us visit chaos several times each day.
During my all-night journey into chaos, however, I learned that the worst possible scenario occurs when I forget who I am.
One exists either in this world or in the resurrection or in the transitional regions. May it not occur that I be found in the latter!…that which is called the transition—it is death.
My Journey Into Chaos
Just after I had closed my eyes one evening, the image of an old, black and white TV screen appeared behind my eyelids. Like a 1970s era network returning to service, the seconds ticked down: 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… It seemed that I had the option to cancel the trip. But I didn’t take it. I wanted to see what would happen next.
During my journey into chaos I learned that the void does not suffer a tourist. When I entered chaos, it entered me. My mind went blank. I became a consciousness with no identity helplessly floating in a dark realm of cloudy shapes and colors. The clouds also seemed conscious. Still, even though they moved and merged under their own power, I can’t say “they” knew any more about their state than I did. Since I had no arms or legs, I think that I was one of those clouds.
During a lengthy series of visits, sleep, and re-awakening, I visited chaos at least four times that night. Each journey was the same. All that I knew was: Who-I-am = not those other things.
Lesson Learned in Chaos
While I drifted through the dark nothing, I somehow knew (or heard) that I had to remember one thought. In order to return to my bed I must call for help. Because my mind instantly forgot every thought, this was not an easy task. Whenever the thought neared the surface, the void absorbed it. So I’d float around for awhile, for an hour, or maybe a year, hoping to remember The Thought.
During all four visits I ultimately recalled The Thought. Each time I did, I promptly returned to my room. Between visits I’d watch my human companion peacefully sleeping next to me. I found great irony in that. Peace and chaos, side by side. Indeed it is true: each of us are wherever our mind is.
One Way Home
One major hitch. In chaos, my ticket home (save me!) could not be expressed because the concept of “me” was absent. Aside from the conscious clouds there was no one with whom to compare myself. But a name? Yes. I could remember a name. Just one. “Christ.”
Although I could not process the “I-am” in chaos, when I remembered Christ’s Name I also recalled who I was, and gain returned to the safety of my bed.
A few hours later, relaxing in morning’s welcome sunlight, my friend listened quietly to all that had transpired during my journey into chaos. After I’d explained the experience, and my many attempts to think of Christ, she offered a simple observation:
“Maybe that’s why we call him ‘the Savior.'”
— Andrew Michael
Related Article: My Journey to Mother Holy Spirit →
There was no need to say goodbye to Her. Ever.