Peak peeks

[Guest guest]

SC writes:

> Durning the War I had experienced this moment of clairity, or 'Peak

Experience.'

> When in the heat of battle the fear of death became equal with the pain in

my

> existence; and I found myself in a centre of calm, observing the action,

rather

> than participating in it. A moment or two where I was emotionless.

> Now I try to find these moments of pure 'Intuition' and build upon them.

Thanks for sharing this with us SC, that was really interesting. When I read

it I was reminded of Joe 's description of his peak experiences -

they were collegiate track meets in which Joe felt that he was unbeatable.

Clearly a Sensation function peak as opposed to your Intuitive one.

I have had 2 memorable " peaks " . One, similar to 's, was a tennis

match where my usual medicore level of play inexplicably rose to incredible

levels. I could " see " in my mind where the ball was to go like I had a zoom

lens. Time slowed down for me, but not my opponent.

The other was a Thinking function peak, where I was able to acutely grasp and

critique the essence of business cases being presented by MBA students.

I would enjoy hearing about the peak experiences of others, particularly

those that have had such associated with their Feeling function, mine being

buried so far in the UC that I cannot fathom what such an experience would

even be like...

I was reading from Jung's Zarathustra seminar last night, and he was

discussing something that I have not seen in Jung before. He mentions that

Nietzche's afflictions resulted from too high a level of consciousness. I

wonder if peak experiences are Nature's way of letting us achieve that high

level, but in limited quantities as we cannot handle this (yet) on a

sustained basis. Thoughts on this anyone??

Regards,

--Kurt

[Guest guest]

I don't know what function this falls under, but I do know that when I think

about it I have a feeling of awe, the ultimate balance between Fear and

Facination.

In all of my early memories I always had this strange ringing in my ears. I

never really thought about, but it was always there. One day, I was hanging

out with friends, the day after syndrome in full affect, the other person in

the room was fast asleep, while I played around with changing the frenquency

of this hum/ring in my ears. I don't remember ever being conscious of it

before that day. Some intuition was telling me that I could control this

ever present background noise, so I focused on it, intensifying it on

purpose. I don't know why. Well it got to the point where It was getting

extremely painful, yet I was being driven somehow to build it up further.

Then, seemingly out of no where i felt something pull at my chest(now

defined as heart chakra) and saw a shadow move quickly acroos the room. It

went right through my friend and he bolted up, suddenly wide awake, and said

" what the f**k was that " .

That moment was the first time in my life that I heard silence.

Since then this noise(which some would explain away as tinitus) has only

returned a few times and only for a few minutes at a single event. Most

recently was at an exhibit of Tibetan Art. I walked into a room and felt the

noise rising. This noise has become a signal of danger or evil to me over

the years, because that seems to be what brings it on. In this room were

ceremonial choppers, horns, and a cup made of a human skull. The noise rose

to a deafening intensity and lasted only a couple of minutes. I went back to

the Museum a couple of weeks later to see if I could reproduce the effect,

but could not.

I have learned over the years to listen to these signals, and to trust in

them, even if I don't understand.

I think I see this as a peak experience mainly becuase it shows an

undeniable connection between spirit and matter that is not only present in

the moment but stretches the boundaries of time as well.

Living in the Mystery

Listening to the Silence,

Rob...who has a restless lair of dragons to deal with....after all this is

thier year

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[Guest guest]

Kurt,

What a wonderful thread for this ecliptic day!

I am 15 and I am at a retreat center in the Hocking Hills of Southern OH.

with a group of teenagers. We have been instructed to take some time and

meditate alone after dinner. I wander down to the sanctuary area which is

situated on the side of a hill. Benches of logs are layered down the hill.

This faces another hill on which stands a plain white cross made of rough

wood. Dusk is approaching. The sunset is behind me and as the sun goes down

it moves over the cross and lowers behind me. I look at the cross first

blazing white with the setting sun shining upon it. Then I look up to the

sky and see the dark night coming across the sky as a blanket bringing a

close to the day. I am moved tremendously and feel I was touched by the hand

of God during this time.

It was just a couple of years ago. I am with my daughter and her friend and

we are making a day trip to Mt. St. Helens. I am thrilled with the sight of

the wonderous mountain in the distance as we drive in the mountains. We are

half way up, on our way to a new visitors center at the top. We decide to

stop at another visitors center so I can get some photos. Suddenly as I

exit my car, I am totally enthralled with this sight. I am no longer

standing on my feet but connected to this grand sight. I trip over a parking

curb. (definitely not grounded, no earth planets, Rainbo) I brake my ankle

in three places and spend two and half hours waiting for an ambulance to

drive me to a hospital. I actually enjoy my view and am in no pain during

this extended wait. I call this one peak-to-pits in one fell swoop!!!

I have had other peak experiences. Most all of them have involved my sensing

function.

merry

[Guest guest]

Always craving Her truth in my fallen material, Alice's Sophia...

also enticed this day by a Fragrance of Mesquite Smoke and the

synchronicity of this story, too, in the morning mail...

> In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-

> disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their

> entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into

> conventional schools.

>

> At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child

> delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all that

> attended.

>

> After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out,

> " Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is

> done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other

> children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other

> children do.

>

> Where is God's perfection? "

>

> The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's

> anguish and stilled by the piercing query. " I believe, " the father

> answered, " that when God brings a child like this into the world, the

> perfection that He seeks is in the way people react to this child. "

>

> He then told the following story about his son Shaya:

>

> One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some

> boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, " Do you think

> they will let me play? " Shaya's father knew that his son was not at

> all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team.

> But Shaya's father understood that if his son were chosen to play it

> would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

>

> Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if

> Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his

> teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said,

> " We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning.

> I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in

> the ninth inning. "

>

> Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told

> to put on a glove and go out to play short center field.

>

> In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs

> but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning,

> Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded

> with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up.

> Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away

> their chance to win the game?

>

> Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was

> all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat

> properly, let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up to the

> plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so

> Shaya should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in

> and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up

> to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting

> for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss

> the ball softly toward Shaya.

>

> As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung the bat and

> together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher

> picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball

> to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have

> ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on

> a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

>

> Everyone started yelling, " Shaya, run to first. Run to first! "

> Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the

> baseline wide eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base,

> the rightfielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the

> second baseman that would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But

> the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were,

> so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head.

>

> Everyone yelled, " Run to second, run to second. " Shaya ran towards

> second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases

> towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop

> ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted,

> " Run to third. " As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran

> behind him screaming, " Shaya run home! " Shaya ran home, stepped on

> home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him

> the hero, as he had just hit a " grand slam " and won the game for his

> team.

>

> That day, " said the father softly with tears now rolling down his

> face, " those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection. "

>

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