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A paragraph in this story contains a depiction of sexual assault. Those who wish to avoid such content may prefer to skip the paragraph after the caution symbol  as noted here.

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BREATHE DESCENDANTS

I attended my eighty-eighth Holotropic Breathwork (HB) workshop in early December 2019 and experienced something that completely changed how I understand humanity’s future. As I made the familiar drive through the Vermont hills toward Lenny and Elizabeth Gibson’s home and workshop venue, I had no sense of anxious anticipation about the upcoming session, no pressure to get anything out of my body as I used to have so often before these events in my early years of attending breathwork workshops.  I had no inkling of what this workshop session might bring. I did not even feel any strong spiritual inclinations, which was unusual. But then, as I packed my gear, I thought perhaps I should bring one small vial of sacred water to give to Elizabeth, as she knew the story behind the Erie Blizzard water. [1]  When I reached for it, that inner voice—the same one that in the past had encouraged me to hand the vials out more generously —spoke again: Take all of the vials.

Without hesitation, I filled a small plastic bag with them. Upon arriving at the Gibsons’, I placed all of the vials on an altar where participants were invited to leave sacred objects. When it was my turn on the mat, [2] my breathing session began, absent of trepidation and expectations. I was no longer processing and releasing trauma kinetics. [3]   I was like a beginner again, unsure what breathwork would be like at this stage of my spiritual journey.

When the music began, I went from stillness to shaking my hands with an energy both familiar and intense. The song included sounds of water intertwined with rhythmic drumming, which evoked childhood memories of paddling our aluminum boat around our pond, staring into the depths in search of the largest fish, specifically a bass. My pleasant memory swirled into a vision, and the common bass morphed into an extraordinarily large Amazonian fish. This was no regular river monster. It was Arapaima, one of my spirit guides, who beckoned me to follow. Suddenly I was swimming in clear blue water behind the great fish-spirit.

I was not very deep into the non-ordinary state of consciousness (NOSC) yet, so ordinary thoughts intrude. Worries about downsizing my job disrupted my calm. The conflict between reducing my hours—and income—and my desire for more time to write, contemplate, exercise, and rest tugged at me. In my ordinary mindset, I would have ruminated endlessly. But now I had non-ordinary options. One was to use my spiritually charged heart, the one Emmie, my now deceased younger sister,  had given me during a previous session. I recognized that my worries belonged to a paradigm dominated by fear, one I no longer wished to inhabit. Simply acknowledging this caused the Universe to respond through my new heart, shifting the vision. I was suddenly aloft, no longer underwater.

Instantly a sword appeared—my ancestral warrior-shaman’s sacred sword. Without hesitation I grabbed it, invoked its power, and sent it tumbling end over end. It traveled several yards, angled downward and struck like a viper. When it plunged into a person lying on the floor, I realized the person was me. The “I” invoking spiritual strength was not the same as the “I” who worried neurotically; hence the distance between them. The sword landed squarely in my abdomen, goring the belly of my fear. I felt no pain—only relief as energy released from my abdomen. I smiled briefly, recalling Stan advice: “Never pass up an opportunity for death and dismemberment.” Stanislav Grof, MD, creator of HB, would undoubtedly say this qualified.

 A stillness settled over me. Within it, I became acutely aware of a significant imbalance of mismatched energies permeating my body and soul-self. I had experienced mismatched energies before and recalled a mandala from a previous session showing my heart blazing with fiery red and yellow flames indicating too much energy while my depleted body melted from exhaustion depicted by variously colored drops of liquid running down the page. The mental image faded, and my body began to shudder—not externally, but with internal explosions of energy. I longed to thrash on the mat, but I knew my sixty-year-old body, with its vulnerable neck and back, could not handle it. I resisted. After each explosive wave, exhaustion followed; then another wave hit. The alternating surges of energy and depletion were exponentially more uncomfortable than either alone.

Out of nowhere, came the notion that I needed the element of fire. Odd, since fire had only occurred infrequently in previous NOSC sessions and was not part of my spiritual repertoire. Rather than invoking a specific fire entity, I simply held the idea of fire in my mind and made a broad request for help.

To my surprise, Grandmother of the Good Dark responded. She usually appeared in a womb-like yurt offering a ladle of magical elixir, but this time she came with mystical fire. She sat before a large bonfire, feeding it with energy pouring from her palms. I knew instinctively that I must enter the blaze to burn off the opposing energies. I did not step forward; I simply thought the desire, and instantly I was in the flames. I felt no pain, even as my volatile energies caused the fire to roar and spiral. Grandmother continued feeding it, and together our energies fueled an enormous inferno.

Suddenly I began to choke. An obstruction seemed lodged in my throat; I could barely breathe. A child-self surfaced from deep within me and filled my body. My adult mind understood instantly: I was reliving a segment of childhood sexual abuse. My body writhed, howling noises erupted, and fear spilled from me into the fire, which now whirled around me, burning away residual abuse energy. The trauma echo [4]  of the abuse was powerful but brief—minutes instead of the hours such processes once required. Again HB was aiding me in extricating old trauma kinetics from my body.

Even with all the energy already cast into the inferno, it seemed to need something more. It needed an additional catalyst to fuel this visionary journey, and I knew just what that meant. I had to sacrifice something, and just coming to this conclusion caused the appearance of a dazzling sacred heart–the one gifted to me by my deceased sister during a previous NOSC journey. As much as I wanted to hold it, I had learned the importance of surrendering even precious things. I released it and watched it stoke the flames, causing another tremendous fiery acceleration.

An intention seeped into my awareness; a yearning to “go beyond.” I did not know what that meant or how to begin such a thing. Reasoning and problem-solving were not available. There was a growing sense of urgency, so I let go, trusting my inner healer.

All the energy that had been infused was expanding into a tornado of flames with tremendous spiritual power. As I witnessed this nuclear expansion of energies, I began to grasp what “going beyond” meant: the Grand Beyond—beyond what I know, what is known, and what will be known; beyond Light, beyond Dark, beyond our cosmos and all universes. As understanding dawned, I was transported there.

Physically, my body was completely still and comfortable on the mat. My breathing was quiet. No more trauma echoes remained. In the vision, I was in an immense, colorless expanse with no discernible boundaries. It seemed infinite. Despite the drabness, a faint shimmering hinted at “what might be.”

Gradually I understood that I was in a region of the Grand Beyond, best thought of as the Realm of Potential, where there was no matter, no energy, and no time—only the potential for everything, for all things, while simultaneously having nothing, or no thing. At first, I felt some excitement about what might become from this vast potential, but as some time passed,” nothing emerged. Soon my humanness became restless with no things and had an urge to create––to grab, to mold, to awaken some of the potential. Yet to make something is to determine it, to give it a beginning and an ending, which means there’s a component of time, and as time could not exist in the Realm of Potential, I could not create.

 A realization emerged: this place of all potential was not a good place for me to remain. A timeless nothingness might be more hell than heaven. Before discomfort grew, an all-encompassing light appeared—the magnificence of a millennium of sunrises. A God force. A divine dawn that was the beginning, the birth energy of the cosmos and its universes.

Unexpectedly, a blazing bolt of this Dawn Light shot into the drab Realm of Potential and was absorbed into myriad potentials, catalyzing shimmerings that coalesced into clouds. The “clouds of beginnings” blossomed into colors—blues, greens, magentas, oranges—and condensed into rivulets of giant “drops of formation.” A birth. A becoming. The opposite of “no thing.” It became Is-ness.

The shimmering Is-ness coiled inward like a seashell, spiraling tighter until it condensed into a single dot—a portal. Without hesitation, my consciousness dove in.

 On the other side, the Is-ness reorganized into a complex design of colors and shapes. The “Geometry of Becoming” labeled itself in my mind. A circle with crisscrossing lines forming triangles, trapezoids, polygrams, all in brilliant colors. A divine mandala! I wondered, Is this what people mean by “sacred geometry?”

The Geometry of Becoming continued to morph into smaller fractals, then into something entirely different. As the motion of the imagery slowed, the large almost panoramic vision-scape of geometric wonder condensed and the image sharpened: the Geometry now miraculously existing within the iris of an eye. What began in the Realm of Potential and birthed into Is-ness was evolving from inorganic fractals into more complex organic matter. At any point this amazing evolution could have ending, yet it continued.

From a single iris, the Geometry of Becoming morphed further into a group of non-distinct beings. I could not discern features or numbers, only that they were a group. But I knew who they were: Beings of Awareness—evolved humans in an awakened, expanded state of consciousness. They conveyed that they are Divine Descendants, our collective descendants, emerging through a spiritual mechanism from present-day humans.

When they saw that I understood, they took hold of the reins of my journey. As if rewinding a film, I was back at the moment when divine Dawn converged on the Realm of Potential. This time they zoomed in on a tiny dark patch at the center of the light—something I had not noticed. It was instrumental in what followed.

Colors and shapes came into focus first, and then recognition flooded me. They were showing me myself. I saw my breathwork mat, sheet, clothing, blanket. The sight lasted only moments, but long enough for understanding: my engagement in breathwork had produced a seed within the Divine Dawn, contributing to the genesis energy. I saw myself be an active participant in cosmic creation.

Awakening to my own divinity floored me. Tears spilled as awe washed through me—like praying and suddenly finding God standing before you, smiling. I was stunned to see myself as having agency in such an extraordinary moment. I wished I could immerse myself fully in creation, but it was not possible—not yet—while I remain carnate, anchored in material life.

Even so, the Beings of Awareness revealed a fundamental truth of what it is to be a conscious human.  This truth is obscured by our habit of projecting sacredness, powerfulness, and gloriousness onto deities. But now, having “lived” the sacred truth that divine attributes like creating a cosmos, lie within each of us, I gained a much deeper appreciation for the magnitude of that reality. For just a moment, because I was open, with my ego absent during NOSC, I shuddered with the full impact of knowing my true divine nature.  Even more, I understood the colossal transformation that would occur when all humans recognize our individual and collective divinity.

Flooded with awe, I thought this must be the pinnacle of the vision. But the Divine Descendants were not done. They conveyed yet another truth: “You do not breed descendants into being. You breathe them into existence.”

It felt ancient and prophetic. I could not fathom its full implications, but I understood that humans have long lived under a misconception born of three-dimensional logic—breeding rather than breathing our descendants into being. We have created myths around procreation, leading to overuse of  resources, and imbalances. “Breathe,” in this context, meant the sacred work of exploring and evolving consciousness through breathwork, entheogens, ceremony, and mystical ritual.

I wanted to ponder the implications of all this further, but the Divine Descendants had more to teach me. They wanted me to know them and their purpose.

They are ethereal and able to cross time. We, living humans, have interpreted them as angels, spirit guides, even ghosts. They guide, teach, and sometimes disrupt to push us toward spiritual quests aligned with the meaning of “breathe.” They give signs, intuitive gifts, insights, creative downloads, and access to the collective unconscious. Their agenda is humanity’s spiritual evolution; the higher we rise, the better their circumstance. They cannot manipulate matter in our reality, which is why it is our task “to materialize the spiritual or spiritualize the material,” as Jacqueline Small writes in Becoming a Practical Mystic.

Through years of NOSC, I have come to understand the importance of bringing spiritual concepts into the three-dimensional plane as matter, and also in action. Giving away sacred coins, gifting labradorite stones, hanging paintings of spirit guides, and sharing vials of sacred water are some ways of doing that—doing what they need us to do. The Divine Descendants let me know that when any of us follows their guidance, they are elated.

Another visual image flashed in my mind’s eye—the vials of sacred Erie Blizzard water. Then I witnessed the Descendants reach back in time, into the Realm of Potential as it was coalescing into Is-ness, to gather some of the swirling drops of creation and insert them into the vials on the altar. This blending of NOSC vision and three-dimensional reality was new to me, but the implication was clear: the sacred water had been infused with additional spiritual energy, and I was to share it with the workshop participants.

Their final message appeared as written words and as a voice: When you dream Light, dream Shadow, breathe Vision, then we call you “the Enlightened.” I understood that our Divine Descendants consider us as their ancient creator-ancestors. We are the ones who breathed them into existence.

I drifted back to ordinary awareness, resting in stillness as sweet music filled the room. The entire experience replayed in my mind. Many images had come through distinctly, and I realized they would become my mandala. But how could I portray such complexity on a single sheet of poster paper? As in past sessions, puzzling over the problem what to draw on my mandala elicited an Inner Healer response. I saw the first part of the session on one sheet, focused on the portal point. I assumed the rest would need to be written on the back. Instead, another image flashed: separate sheets forming a set of flashcards. When I rose from the mat, I began creating them.

The workshop wrapped up with lunch then a gathering for our final sharing group.  [5}   I listened to all the others’ experiences, and I waited until last to share mine–including how the Divine Descendants had infused the vials with additional spiritual power. I invited each participant to take one. I had brought exactly the number needed, including one for Elizabeth and Lenny. In one of those synchronistic moments, I realized that what occurred during my session had answered one of the participant’s existential questions. She too had a substantial trauma history and was healing through her breathwork experiences.

“Why am I going through all this,” she’d asked, “what is the purpose of it?” Meaning, why was she engaging in this difficult process of opening the Pandora’s Box of her traumatic past using HB.  After I finished my sharing she said, “Now I understand why I am doing this; why we are doing this.”

Deep psychospiritual work involves not only “moving toward wholeness,” as Grof says, but also evolving spiritually such that we integrate the sacred into our lives for the enhancement of humankind and elevation of our collective consciousness.

Driving home, my mind drifted through years of healing—from early childhood trauma to spiritually rich experiences. I marveled at my growth and my ability to move into expanded consciousness. Then a notion about Donna, my deceased neighbor, with whom I had a posthumous visitation during one of my first therapy sessions, hit me: Was the ghost of Donna actually my Spiritual Descendant? Is that how it worked? As I pondered this possibility, a deep sense of affirmation flowed through me. The rightness of it clicked into place.

HB facilitators teach that a breather’s process does not end at the close of a workshop. Integration can continue for days, weeks, even months. . A month later, during a massage by Aniela, a gifted therapist, I experienced a continuation of the vision. The concept of breathing our descendants into existence floated into my mind, followed by a question: Who breathed us and our complex, power-imbalanced, technological society into existence?

An answer came immediately, in the form of a vision.

I saw early humans, nomadic and struggling. Some lived in harmony; others did not. Some suffered losses from storms, disease, predation. They observed the mighty oak towering over smaller plants, shading and stunting them. They observed rivers overflowing after storms, breaking off chunks of land. Size and strength meant domination. They envied it. In their prayers and ceremonies, they focused on domination energy. They breathed it into humans, gifting us ambition, competitiveness, and the drive to explore and conquer—qualities that led to scientific discovery but also cursed us with a thirst for power. This imbalance has resulted in genocides, global warming, pollution, and mega-corporations dominating the world economy with little conscience.

It is now our choice to breathe balance back into the world—not by rejecting technological advances, but by integrating them into a new paradigm of harmony. Efforts to end injustice, eliminate poverty, clean up pollution, and cultivate a conscientious culture are essential, but more is needed to correct our extreme imbalance.

Each of us stands between ancestors and descendants, forming the loop of infinity. Every sentient being is a node at the core of that infinity—both the result of creation and an agent of creation. We need people engaging in NOSC who will breathe, in the sense described by the Divine Descendants, to bring forth the harmonious world available in the Realm of Potential.

We often give up our power, believing our individual efforts cannot matter against such enormous challenges. But that belief is profoundly untrue. The truth is that we may not see the changes, but they are occurring. This is why faith in our inner healers and understanding the quantum nature of existence are paramount to our spiritual evolution.

[1] Erie Blizzard sacred water is described in Chapter 38 of Soul Can You. The water was collected during a record breaking blizzard in Erie, PA.

[2] Mat – if you have not read my book, you might be unfamiliar with Holotropic Breathwork which is a self-improvement endeavor done in a group setting where pairs of people take turns on a mat breathing deeply and listening to special music that helps transport a person into a nonordinary state of consciousness.

 [3]Trauma kinetics –a state of being produced by significant or repeated trauma, characterized by a pervasive energy that affects the body, mind, and soul, influencing nearly every facet of life—whether consciously or unconsciously.

[4] Trauma echoes – reverberations of trauma kinetics that are less potent and less distinct than trauma flashbacks.

[5] Sharing group – an integrative part of a HB workshop when participants get together in the circle after the breathwork to share their NOSC experience.

(This autobiographical story was edited in part by Copilot ai.  None of the content nor creative ideas were obtained via ai.)