In the Place of God's Own Loneliness

Zoltan Bathory is a Hungarian-born heavy metallist and martial artist.  He is also what you might call a part-time shaman.  His particular shamanic magic carpet is DMT, sometimes called "the spirit molecule."  Bathory has inhaled it many hundreds of times.  Where he goes on the carpet depends on multiple variables -- how much he takes of course, his state of mental preparation, and also, it seems, the whims of the Others that he sometimes meets in his travels, in alternative "consensus realities," each as valid as our own.  Sometimes, for example, the Others ask him what is the purpose of his visit, and they don't take kindly to the answer "Just passing through!"

How deep can one go on DMT?  According to Zoltan, in the ultimate journey there is complete ego death.  The Pure Light is not so much experienced; one merges with it and there is nothing else; there is no experiencer.

Perhaps more interesting than this, though, because Bathory thinks that it explains the life mission of all creatures, is an intermediate place that one can reach on DMT, where one experiences a loneliness that is God's own.  It is the pre-creation environment of God.  It is magnificent, but the sense of isolation is overwhelming, devastating to the ego.  (Even Robinson Crusoe could talk to a sand crab from time to time.)

In Bathory's telling, God Him/Herself felt this same isolation in this same space, and it was to escape it that (S)he created all creatures great and small in a vast and variegated cosmos.

In the here and now, and at every moment, we are tied, subliminally, to the Source that is God.  As if via transmission of a computer code, we feed back to the Source everything that we experience.  In this way, it is never lost.  Our immortality lies in the infinitesimal contribution that we make in our communication with the Source.  (Intimations of Carl Jung here.)

I have difficulty with this cosmology.  I have difficulty with the idea that there was a Before and After for God, but more fundamentally with the idea that things were set up seemingly incorrectly, at first, for a God who is assumed to be perfect.  But it should go without saying that I know precisely nothing.