CHAPTER 11 - If This is Tuesday, I Must Be in Physical Matter Reality

Author: Tom Campbell. Link to original: (English).
Tags: Campbell, всеобщая теория Submitted by pollynevergirl 10.04.2012. Public material.
Part of "My Big TOE" book by Tom Campbell. We're translating it with author's permission. In this chapter Tom Campbell tells his story of working with Robert Monroe.

Translations of this material:

into Russian: Глава 11. Если сегодня вторник, значит я в физическом мире. Translated in draft, editing and proof-reading required.
Submitted for translation by pollynevergirl 10.04.2012


Meanwhile, back at the lab, Dennis and I were putting in about fifteen to twenty hours a week. After I would get home from the lab, often at two or three in the morning, I would lie in bed practicing what I had learned or continuing that evening’s experiments. After two or three hours of sleep, I would get up and go to work. The evenings I didn’t go out to the lab, I would continue experimenting after everyone else fell asleep until a few hours before getting up and going to work. I was putting in forty-five hours a week studying altered states and the larger reality while simultaneously putting in fifty hours a week at my day job and raising a family.

My son Eric was about five years old at the time. Like most kids that age, he had frequent spontaneous out-of-body-experiences (OOBE). We would go out-of-body together – I would go by and join him – we would have a blast. One time we were exploring the oceans together when a huge whale approached us. As our bodies slipped easily through the whale, Eric’s head for some reason bumped against each of its ribs, one after the next. It frightened him a little; typically we did not interact with our surroundings. We came back immediately.

Eric usually had total and clear recall of our nightly adventures. We would often discuss them in the morning – it was great fun for both of us. Exploring the larger reality turned out to be an excellent father and son activity, though perhaps somewhat unusual. Do not misunderstand me. I was not warping Eric’s tender perspective, or jerking him out-of-body. At about five years of age, most children naturally and spontaneously have lots of OOBEs. I was merely joining him so that we could go together. It was comforting and reassuring to Eric to have me along – he was going with or without me. I was able to structure the experiences to be both fun and educational (such as exploring the oceans).

Instead of denying and discarding his experiences as foolish dreams (typical parental reaction), I was shaping and sharing them with him. He thought it was cool and looked forward to our outings. Eventually he was no longer a natural, and our forays into the wilds of nonphysical matter reality (NPMR) ended as easily and naturally as they had begun. He, by the way, now has an advanced degree in aeronautical engineering and to this day clearly remembers bumping his head on those whalebones.

I have always been a sleepy head – nine to ten hours a night is about right for me. Yet by spending so much time in altered states where my body was deeply relaxed, if not officially asleep, I got by on two or three hours of sleep per night – night after night after night – year after year.

At work, I was exceptionally productive, but becoming stranger. I was spending almost as much time in NPMR as I was in physical-matter reality (PMR), and it showed. I soon earned a reputation for being an absent minded professor. PMR and NPMR seemed to blend into a continuum and I found I could live in both realities simultaneously; it was no longer a matter of leaving one and going to the other. Now, it was merely a matter of shifting and splitting my focus – I lived and was continuously aware, sentient, and conscious (except when sleeping) in both reality systems simultaneously and permanently.

At first, I could only sequentially (albeit quickly) switch between them. Then I learned to engage mentally in NPMR on one thing while carrying on a conversation and driving a car (or motorcycle) at the same time. Most of the time there was no confusion between reality frames, but now and then, for a few seconds, until I forced myself to differentiate between them and get my bearings, I was occasionally not sure which reality I was in. Both were equally real, they were just different and had different functions. I began to marvel at the mind’s capacity for parallel processing.

For one relatively short (about six months) period, I was spending more time in NPMR than in PMR. I was a space cadet and obviously needed a keeper. Luckily, being a physicist, and maintaining high professional productivity, I could get by with being eccentric. Nevertheless, I soon realized that I needed to regain a better balance. With a little experimenting, the optimum balance was obtained. I remained eccentric, but didn’t need a full-time keeper to remind me of what was coming next in PMR.

With the two realities so completely inter-mixed, I began to notice connections between the two. One spring day while walking back to the office after lunch, I noticed that golden-white foam was draped over the trees in a nearby park. A quick reality check indicated I was solidly focused in PMR. “Wow,” I exclaimed with mild surprise, “that is really pretty, but what is that stuff?” By now I was so used to being amazed by the larger reality that what was normally strange had become strangely normal. I studied the white foam; it had the texture of cotton candy. It connected all the trees into one large luminescent mass. It reminded me of a grove of cypress trees along the Gulf coast loaded with glowing Spanish moss.

I thought it was very interesting but had no idea what it was. I wondered if other people could see it. I made an effort to be obviously looking at something. A few passers-by turned their heads to see what I was looking at and then went on about their business without any noticeable reaction. I knew that they must not have seen what I saw because what I was looking at was not ho-hum in the least. It was massive and beautiful. If others could see it, there should have been a crowd forming.

I went back to work, and looked out of my third-story window to see if the light-foam was still there. It was. I closed the door to my office and began to study the phenomenon I was experiencing. I discovered that I could make it disappear and reappear by adjusting the state of my consciousness. Within a few days, I noticed that everything living had this fuzzy light around it, and that there were strands of this nonphysical cotton candy connecting everything to everything. What about inorganic matter, I wondered. I moved my attention to buildings, telephone poles and power-lines.

To my astonishment, there was a smaller more uniform close-cut off-white light around everything! The light around the power-lines was in motion and bushier than what was around the poles. I was incredulous and I looked repeatedly to make sure. I shook my head, then closed my eyes and opened them again. What I saw remained the same. I had hypothesized this odd light as some representation of life energy. Buildings, telephone poles, and wires with life energy? I knew I had to throw that idea out. The light around the wires danced. I immediately wondered what I would see around an electrical appliance. Would inside things have an aura too, or was it related to sunlight? I looked at the clock on my wall. It not only had light around it, but the light was highly structured and in steady motion. I looked at my programmable calculator and saw a finely structured complex pattern. I turned it on and set it to work – the patterns changed and scintillated as it worked. Now I was amazed all over again. What was I looking at?

Within a few days I noticed that people had auras around them that changed and scintillated as their owners talked to me about important things in their lives. A movie theater not only contained ordinary people, but also rows of swirling colored forms. I could turn all of it, or any of it, on or off by shifting the state of my consciousness. Years later, I would only need to shift my intent.

The connections linking living things became visually obvious. I could literally see that everything was connected. Even inanimate things such as clocks and computers had their complex moving nonphysical energy pattern. This same experience did not happen to Dennis. Perhaps he did not immerse himself in the exploration of NPMR and its theory to the extent that I did. I was extreme in my dedication to the effort. We often grew in different ways at different times and had usually, eventually, ended up with similar experiences. We were in this thing together and I had discussed my experiences – seeing energy forms – with Dennis as they happened.

One day he brought me a group photograph of five people and dropped it on my desk.

“These are all Soviets,” he said, “one of them is supposed to be leading research in psychic activity in the Soviet Union. Which one is the psychic?”

I had never looked at pictures in this way before, but with focused intent, their auras blossomed up exactly as they did with flesh and blood people. “That was fascinating!” I thought. Conscious intent is everything – space and time are not fundamental. Wow!

“Which one is the psychic?” Dennis asked again.

I looked back at the picture, sure enough, one had a much more developed energy body – particularly around and above his head – than the others. “This one is different from the others,” I said pointing to one of the men in the picture. “I am not sure what the difference means yet,” I cautioned, “but this one is definitely different from the others.” Clairvoyance was still a new experience and I did not know the significance of much of what I saw. At this point, I was more into formulating basic connections and had not thought about auras having unique meaning.

Dennis looked at me and grinned. “That’s the one,” he said with enthusiasm.

I was surprised. Dennis knew the answer – this was a test! I didn’t mind; actually, I was pleased, another data point was in and I had learned something valuable and amazing about time and space being a subset of a larger reality. “I have so much to learn,” I thought to myself, suddenly overwhelmed by the unfathomable depth and complexity of reality. Dennis went back to his office. I took a deep breath and wondered what would happen next, where was all this going, what else was out there waiting to be discovered? I felt small, humbled by the enormity of my ignorance. It was clear that I had barely begun to scratch the surface of something so immense and fundamental that I could barely imagine it.

At the same time, I was excited by the possibilities and determined to discover whatever I could about the nature of reality. I am a physicist and science and discovery are my passions – I was born wanting to know why and how. After twenty-two years of continuous education, I realized that I had studied only one small subset of the natural world. I was young, my learning seemed to be accelerating, and reality was far cooler, more complex, and more interesting than I could have ever imagined. To someone like me, it doesn’t get any better than this – I was energized to discover any truth that would yield to my experimentation.