Gimme the tea.

I'm not really interested in the polished experiment, or some sort of linear timeline that steadily saw you reach 'hd enlightenment' status. I'm interested in the details. The ick, the messy confusion, the mud and how it slowly leached through your runners and into your socks as you squelched through it. I want you to gimme ALL the tea on your experiment.

The real, the illusion, the way the illusion can seem so damn real. I'm interested in the salty tears, the words shared in voices raised, the "you don't get it and you don't get me" victim states, the whole human experience. The true experiment is not polished, it is not comparable, it is not for judgement or achievement. The real experiment is in the mundanity of wiping a babies bum in the parenting room with wet toilet paper that's balling up and ripping because you left the baby wipes on the kitchen counter at home before rushing out the door. The real experiment is in the moment you close your child's car door and walk slower than usual around to the driver’s side wiping tears away, swallowing as hard as you can to clear the lump that's choking your throat after leaving the playdate early because your child's behaviour is so socially distributive, yet perfectly wild. The real experiment is in the detail, but the only way to have the detail is to be fully present with each and every moment of life as it comes at you. There is power and truth and potency and a frequency about that experiment that I'm interested in.

When it pours down rain how many people do you see put their coats up over their heads and run for shelter? If you asked them about the downpour they say "oh it was terential, really bad". I want to hear about the rain from the one who stood there and felt the weight of the rain drops hit their face. Was it cold or warm? Could you see the sky through the drops? Did their masacara run? Did the rain bring back a visceral memory of their late mother’s soft voice telling them "quick out of the rain before you catch a cold"?, Did the material of their shirt stick to their back uncomfortably for the rest of the day? Or did it dry quickly? What weird noise did their wet socks and shoes make as they walked the rest of the street? That's the person I want to hear from. Thats the experiment I want to read about.

I like a good keynote but what I like more is how you explain the keynote in a way that shows how your whole body has touched that keynotes energy, been engulfed in its force and has been spat out the other side.

You say he had a repelling aura because he is a Manifestor but tell me, how did the full force of that protective shield sit you down in your seat, or move you to the side of the room when its rock-solid integrity passed you by? What did your mind tell you about how personal the encounter must have been, how did you mind make it all about you?

You say she was clearly in an emotional low, but how far down did that lead balloon drag you into the depths of despair before you realised you were riding their wave too. Could you breathe? Could you see the way back up or did it seem impossible? Did your eyes ache from the tears and the swollen eyelids? how long did it take you to recover on your return ticket journey from hope to pain and back? what was your mind telling you about yourself so convincingly?

A polished experiment is burdened with second and third thought, a conditioned mind speaking. I want the first thought. Wild unpolished illogical irrational thought, I want to hear how it felt, what you noticed, what you sensed with all of your senses. How long it took for the insights of reflective consciousness to actually hit you- the human, the messy. I want to feel the power of your share hit me in the chest and spread through my body like wildfire. That sort of outer authority is empowering and enlightening. It's marinated in experience and has had its time in the oven to slow cook. It's not rushed or curated or regurgitated. That's the experiment nobody can deny.

These are all the bits that people fear to share in case someone deems them ‘not experimenting properly”, or less awake because their mind took them over for a moment, and how dare they let that happen. These are the parts the HD community squirrel away and hide for fear of their experiment not looking squeaky clean deconditioned. The dilemma is; these are the parts that make the experiment all too real, reachable, doable, practical. I mean, its a lonley old experiment by nature, but the ones who keep it real are the ones that make it feel a little less lonely at times. If we could just spill the tea a little and normalise the wildness, the grief, the pain, the confusion, the shattering of watching your mind slowly take a backseat perhaps people would see there is NO comparision between experiments. And with no comparison there is no hierarchy of he/she is doing it better or more radical then I am. There’s just people having a unique wild human existence.

Anyway, I’m perhaps I am daydreaming again about a place of in the distance future that I wish was already here. 6th line things.

Amy.