We were surrounded on three sides by ocean, miles from the nearest road, buffeted by the wind cresting over the cliffs, in the most surreal, stunning landscape I have ever witnessed. The interplay of earth, water, light, and life were breathtaking, and the immediacy of the place and moment dwarfed all the things I'd thought were important to me back in civilization. All distinctions were revealed as arbitrary, and I was washed away in experiencing the 'oneness' of all things.

Heh. You probably either know exactly what I mean, or you think I've absolutely lost it - either way, no need for me to go on.

Which works out anyway as I can't really recall the specifics that well - these experiences are hard to hold onto - like the details of a dream, they slip away between your fingers the harder you try to hold onto them.

And I can say this, too - that in the aftermath of that experience, I found myself on a roll of following some intuition, an inner voice that pulled me where it seemed I needed to go. I felt in control of my reality in a way I never had before - by letting go of reason and deliberation, silencing the paralyzing mental chatter, and just - doing.

And it worked.

My house transformed from an intractably dark and dusty space to a more open, light, clean space almost effortlessly, and in doing so seemed to mirror the transformations going on elsewhere in my mind and life.

I won't go too much into that here -let's just say it was a fertile time for change - positive change.

And yet ... old habits die hard; as several days passed and the immediacy of my mystical experience faded a bit, I found myself increasingly skeptical of this way of being, this way of seeing the world.