In this incantation, I explore the concept of transformation as a means to transcend physical constraints like time and space. Reflecting on memories and visions of teleportation and time travel, I realize that true transformation requires surrendering to formlessness—unforming my awakening moment and reforming it into something new. This journey is not about defying reality but moving through it seamlessly, discovering that such shifts are rooted in my innate capacity to reshape my existence.
Less than twenty minutes into a moment of absolute darkness, something profound began to take shape. It wasn’t just the absence of light, but the presence of an extraordinary vision—one I’ve carried in the depths of my memory for two decades: teleportation, transmutation, and time travel. What I would now call “transformation”.
Standing near the radiator, absorbing its comforting warmth, I pushed away the trivial fears that often cling to the edges of the dark. My gaze shifted to the left, where the curtains lead out of my room and into the greater basement which I traverse to the stairs to get up to ground level. A thought took root and I mused: I can walk through these curtains and emerge in my kitchen in India. It wasn’t a fleeting daydream—it was a plausible and tangible probe into solving a problem I have long entertained. My mind wandered further: What would the Indian authorities make of my presence? How would they reconcile my exit stamp from India on November 19 with my sudden reappearance in the Himalayas without an entry record?
The simplicity of the idea struck me: I could do this at any time. How? By closing my eyes, unforming, and then transforming. The thought unearthed a vivid memory, not from some distant childhood past, but anchored deeply in my present moment—a scene from The Wizard of Oz. I imagine I first watched the movie in early childhood, though I now recognize that it did not happen in the past, but rather is occurring now deep in my moment. Another memory surfaced, one from just six weeks ago, walking the ridge of Kasar Devi and reflecting on that same movie. I thought of Dorothy, closing her eyes and tapping her heels to transport herself home. It was then I knew there was more to this narrative than nostalgia—a deeper message to myself. A reminder. Over time, I’ve come to understand that my “memories” are self-delivered messages I have peppered throughout my momentary field as reminders of who and what I am, and what this is. So, it feels fitting that, after turning this problem over in my mind for so long, a solution has finally emerged: transformation.
But what does that mean? I’m not yet ready to claim that I can transform, but this felt like the first tangible step toward a possibility I’ve long suspected exists. To achieve it, I must unform completely. I must withdraw from my structured, linear moment into a state of “premoment,” where I am shapeless, ownless, timeless, and spaceless. Only then can I reform, or transform, into another state of Being.
The Path to Transformation
Transformation, I realized, demands the ultimate surrender—not merely a letting go, but unforming. To transport myself into another location or time, I must first strip away the constraints of my present reality. What remains, then, is the formless essence of my Being, ready to be reshaped however I choose.
But questions persist. What are the limitations of this transformation? How many variables would it alter? How would it impact my moment, my reality? How would I “arrive” at the next place and would I be lost? Would I be able to get back? In asking these questions I can feel the answers to them lurk just below the surface; there is nothing to fear. Everything would be alright, I just need to examine what I already know about my awakening, understand it, and see that there is nothing to fear.
Experiencing the In-Between
I pictured the act of transformation. To those around me, it would appear seamless—unremarkable even. I would walk through the curtains and emerge, not into the wider basement in Washington, but into my kitchen in India. For me, the journey would be a compressed experience, as if I’d been squeezed through a tiny hole at high pressure. I would not be “defying reality” but rather finding a way to move through it at a different cadence. Time, as I experience it, is not eliminated but condensed into something I might experience as timelessness. The bureaucratic checkpoints, the physical travel, and the hours spent waiting would all occur, but in a blur—a fast-forwarded trance where I bypass the painful crawl of time.
A Timeless Journey
When I arrived on the other side, I would know that I had transformed. The memory of every step, every subtle shift in my Being, would remain intact. Yet to the world around me, nothing would seem out of place. It wouldn’t be as though I had teleported in the traditional sense; rather, I had moved through time and space in a way that rendered the passage invisible and effortless to me, but natural to the characters around me.
This vision is a glimpse of what I think is possible. It is not a conclusion but the opening of a door into a realm of Being that transcends the limits I often take for granted. Transformation begins not with an act of defiance, but with a surrender to the formlessness within me. The question now is not if, but how. With effort, the how will also dissolve.
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