In my ongoing experiments with out-of-body travel, the experience that has frightened, surprised and delighted me the most is something I call “the starry tunnel ride.”
Once I learned to control my fear of this strange experience, the starry tunnel ride has become an exhilarating, swooping, roller-coaster kind of trip for me. I use the term “starry tunnel” for lack of a better description. I’m not at all sure what this thing is, or even if it is a tunnel, per se. I’m not sure if the screaming points of light inside it are real stars. Just let me describe the experience to you, and I’ll let you make your own speculations.
Very often when I “detach” from my physical body and find myself “out” and floating above or beside my bed next to my sleeping body, I usually plummet right through the floor. Every time this happens — every time — I have the feeling that I should smash into the floor or get a mouthful of dirt beneath the house. (Note: I do not always detach from my body and just float up into the familiar surroundings of my bedroom, although I have experienced this many times. On those occasions when I do find myself hovering above my bed, it usually is not long before I get sucked into a tunnel. I have no idea why or how this works, I just know it happens.)
Once in the tunnel, I find myself being hurled along at tremendous speed in outer space — except it is not exactly open space; it is more like a tunnel through space.
Although I’m reluctant to make this analogy, the tunnel is much like the “worm hole” described in some science fiction books and movies. It almost seems to be a warp in space, although my starry tunnel is not quite as dramatic and psychedelic as the one depicted in the Star Trek movies .
I make the comparison with much reservation because I don’t want to strain your credulity. I’m not for a minute suggesting, nor do I even want to leave you with the impression that my starry tunnel is, in fact, a warp in space. That’s just too cute and too much like a pat science fiction convention. I’m just struggling for words here and for some everyday comparisons that will best relate my experience to you. Science fiction’s worm hole is just a handy, fictional invention (based on scientific conjecture) that seems to serve best here for descriptive purposes.
As I fly through the tunnel, I see and hear millions of tiny sparks, or points of light which stream by with a high-pitched whine. It’s a mild electrical sound not loud enough to be irritating or scary.
Sometimes the “stars” are quite vivid and appear as pinpoints of light. At other times they seem much less substantial. They can appear blurred and take on a liquid, run-together look.
Even though I now look forward to the crazy fun of the starry tunnel ride, sometimes hurling through this bizarre corridor is no picnic. The first few times I encountered it I was frightened out of my wits. I screamed, struggled against it, and always ended up aborting the experience by waking myself up — that is, waking up my physical body. (My mind is almost always awake and lucid throughout this entire experience).
One of the difficult things about the starry tunnel is that it’s hard to breathe inside it. It’s like being seated in a dive-bombing jet pulling “heavy G’s”. There is a feeling of being squeezed or pressed on the chest. It’s an out-of-control kind of event, like falling and not being able to grab onto anything to stop myself. But really, the starry tunnel is a tenuous place. I find I can abort from it with remarkable ease. In fact, if I fight the tunnel even slightly, it releases me immediately. (It’s interesting to note that this out-of-breath feeling is common to the sleep paralysis experience, which lends credence to the theory that the OBE is actually more akin to a lucid dream than actual out-of-body travel).
Anyway, it wasn’t until I learned to control my fear that I realized that the starry tunnel was nothing to fear at all. Instead, I’ve found it is a dazzling, delightful gateway into an infinite number of realms and universes — both our own universe and (seemingly) alternate ones.
Controlling fear is the key to successful use of the starry tunnel. (In fact, controlling fear is a major key to all aspects of out-of-body travel). And where does the starry tunnel lead? That’s the best part of all! In my next post, I’ll describe some of the mind-blowing, astounding locals the starry tunnel leads me to in the out-of-body world! Stay tuned!