Mooji on a Spliff

I remember that first day of the stroke with terrific bitter-sweetness. In the absence of the normal functioning of my left orientation association area, my perception of my physical boundaries was no longer limited to where my skin met air. I felt like a genie liberated from its bottle. The energy of my spirit seemed to flow like a great whale gliding through a sea of silent euphoria. Finer than the finest of pleasures we can experience as physical beings, this absence of physical boundary was one of glorious bliss. As my consciousness dwelled in a flow of sweet tranquility, it was obvious to me that I would never be able to squeeze the enormousness of my spirit back inside this tiny cellular matrix.

 For to him when his thought-organ is tranquil,
   To the disciplined one, supreme bliss
 Approaches, his passion stilled,
   Become Brahman, stainless.

 Thus ever disciplining himself,
   The disciplined man, free from stain,
 Easily to contact with Brahman,
   To endless bliss, attains.

 When the thought organ comes to rest,
   Checked by the practice of Yoga,
 And when, the self by the Self
   Contemplating, he finds satisfaction in the Self;

 That supernal bliss which
   Is attainable by the consciousness and is beyond the senses -
 Which having obtained, he is not in the least
   Moved from, established within it, that Truth;

 Which having gained,
   Considers no other again superior;
 In which established, by no misery
   However grievous is he moved;