As time went by, I learned how to partially govern the input of data. If I’d worked at it more often, I think I could have controlled it fairly easily. Not all objects emanated frequencies. Along with metals, it was mostly natural matter like wood or stone, fibers from trees, plants or animals, that sort of thing.

But psychometry was a mere sideshow in this chaotic circus of dynamic perception. By midsummer, I had developed a short list of names for my various experiences. As already mentioned, “warning signal” referred to what I now call Reality Shift, a sudden expansion of my consciousness, allowing expanded perceptions of reality. It was during one of these events that I first perceived my Mind — that enigmatic faculty that some refer to as the Psyché — to be outside of my physical body. In this case it seemed to be suspended near my skull, about six inches or so away from my eyes. It was not a visible “thing,” but, rather, an invisible presence.


Sensing a part of oneself to be separated by physical distance is very unsettling. It seemed that if I reached out, I could grasp my very essence as if taking a hat from a hatrack. Then, rather than putting it on, I’d put it inside my head. There’s a scene in some Kevin Costner movie where he is handed a primitive telescope in order to view up close the distant enemy hordes, charging on horseback. Being unfamiliar with the science of optical refraction, Costner’s character pokes his dagger around the space at the front of the telescope trying to stab his enemies. In the movie, Costner’s disorientation is played for laughs, as if we 20th century sophisticates should know all about reality’s funny little tricks with light. It’s hardly a perfect analogy, but when I saw that movie a while back I was reminded of how I reached my left hand out into the space near my head thinking that I might take ahold of my own consciousness — my Mind.