Geoffrey Rosenberg’s Organic Light Realignment: An Extended Testimonial

Geoffrey Rosenberg’s Organic Light Realignment is a two-step process. The first involves an hour-long Skype session which culminates in Geoffrey’s vocalization of the organic light current of Gaia Sophia. The second part consists of a pictorial composite, a ‘portrait’. This starts with a screen shot taken at the Skype session’s close and then this is overlaid with an abstract design derived from a set of tapestries made by Geoffrey. The particular abstract tapestries used (usually two; sometimes, one) are selected according to the energies of the screenshot, as perceived by Geoffrey in that moment of deep openness.

Geoffrey treated me to this amazing process over two weeks ago. I am still processing the event, but would like to articulate what I have felt and realized so far. My life is quite tumultuous at the moment — also my level of inner work necessarily has intensified – and I cannot say I honestly can distinguish between various possible ’causes’ and the quickly-deepening states and acute realizations of these present days. I will relate only those things that were obviously and directly connected to the realignment process — and not even all of that, since the most radical breakthrough was too personal to tell here.

Looking back, I had the impression that the two parts, the audible and the visual, were Dionysian and Apollonian, respectively. It may not be so for all.

The Skype session was, for me, an intense and immediate experience. Geoffrey’s recitation of the liquid language of organic light swept over me like rushing waters. At times it was beautiful music, at others, it seemed almost intelligible human language, still at other times it approached ‘pure vibration.’ It culminated in a rush of cathartic emotion that brought with it a deep and difficult personal realization. It finally left me feeling somewhat drained, but cleansed and opened to fresh and healing energies in rarely visited areas of my consciousness.

It took a while for the portrait image to strike me, at least with intelligible significance. I had to look a long while and several times to ‘get it.’ Perhaps this is because I like to paint and indeed I used to study and write about art, professionally. However, I think the delay in perception was not due to my preconceptions about art, but rather due to preconceptions about myself, and my representation. (Of course, lots of people find pictures of themselves difficult to take in.) Indeed, the image set me back at first. It was jarring and unexpected. I didn’t know what to make of it. Only after a week of repeated perusals, and several thinkings-over, did a series of coherent meanings finally break through to me.

Perhaps a bit of personal background ought also to be mentioned relative to the Organic Light and Sound experience, which came over me strongly, viscerally, and instantaneously. Music, even more than art, is central to my life, and it easily and often brings me to strong and profound emotions.

Indeed, it may have been disadvantageous to respond as if it were a high aesthetic experience. But that is how Geoffrey’s virtuoso repertoire of sounds came over me, with great emotions, with pleasure and delight, with unexpected shifts, even with real drama. The flurry of different sounds at times seemed linguistic, at others it seemed symphonic, like a combination of several kinds of musical instruments (especially winds, but the range was just incredible).

Certainly, the flurry and scope of tonal qualities was an immensely enjoyable ‘aesthetic’ experience to me. But I noticed quickly that Geoffrey moved on to something else just as I was starting aesthetically to indulge in a phrasing or a pure sound. My musical expectations were broken often. Quickly I realized (I think) what he was doing. Rather than supply a ‘chorus’ or regular repetition as ‘music’ would, Geoffrey kept moving on, kept exploring different recesses of my consciousness, as if he were moving through a forest, clearing as he went. Actually, my consciousness felt more like a house. He danced through it, sweeping and airing out and enlivening its cubbyholes and long-closed chambers.

Despite its musicality, the Skype experience produced something like an intense, highly emotive and dynamic trance state, if that makes any sense. While this was largely abstract, it culminated in a cathartic ‘realization’, quite concrete, that ‘appeared out of nowhere’. I won’t talk about the content here. My eyes filled with tears, but as before, Geoffrey moved on, and I went with him, not allowing myself to indulge in the emotion that came with the realization, but keeping in mind the ‘lesson learned.’ This allowed me gradually to step away from the pang of conscience I felt at my realization. I came away with acute remorse, but was given a sense of context and distance that prevented me from losing myself in shame and guilt. The result was very powerful, yet balanced.

Geoffrey’s stated aims are to produce a ‘realignment’ with Gaia/Sophia’s ‘dream’. I have no idea if others experience anything so ‘concrete’ as the ‘realization’ that came over me. Certainly, this was a matter of ‘divine timing’ and tightly related to important matters in my current life.

I did not notice how the tones and voices changed over the time, but following the culminating realization, they seemed to bring me back to a relatively composed state. By the time we finished with the Skype session, I was ‘stabilized. Still, my every cell was brimming with vital emotion. Organic light had been unleashed, but at least in my case, it was tuned immediately to illuminating a personal issue.

Another, perhaps overly subjective, experience ought to be conveyed for the role it played in the culminating, cathartic realization.

Even if the experience was delightfully musical, and much more varied than anything I would have expected with, say, “shamanic chanting” (which I do not really know), and while some parts of it seemed to approach pure powerful abstract tonality, much of it, nevertheless, was quite ‘linguistic’. I have heard many people recite light languages on Youtube, but not this gregarious stream of Organic Light-Sound. This was among the most dramatic I have ever heard. But for the most part I was entranced by the sound and could not discern ‘meaning’ beyond the ‘music’.

However, I did hear, several times, a four-syllable sequence that means something very basic in a non-English language that I know, and this, quite possibly, is what seeded the cathartic sequence.

Following the session, I did not tell Geoffrey the nature of my ‘cathartic’ realization, but did mention the word and its meaning to him. This in turn seeded an interesting discussion. As it emerged in our post-session conversation, the  meaning corresponded to something Geoffrey ‘saw’ during the session. This, in a further turn, tightly corresponded to a very significant I Ching reading I had made for myself some time back (a currently applicable reading.)

While the very visceral skype session was most ‘immediate’ in its effect, it took some time before I got a handle on the portrait. It was jarring, full of contrasts, and hard to take in all at once. The gap between the abstract tapestry and my visage was especially stark, and the sharp coloristic divisions between sections were hard to reconcile spatially or expressively.

Most immediately striking, but somewhat displeasing, was the appearance of horns on my head, one a steaming red, a color that also wrapped around my jaw and chin. A third horn appeared at my third eye; actually, it seemed a dolmen or a worn pyramid casting a shadow across the still empty landscape of my forehead. This seemed the only calm place in the picture, except for the beautiful night sky that wrapped around the top.

In fact, the sense of a moonlit high mountainous landscape that surrounded me was very pleasing – it was not the interior of my living room where the screenshot had been taken. Rather, it was purely the result of an abstract element from the tapestry combined with some artifacts of my image.

The broad smile of my screenshot was obscured, and like my eyes, seemed trapped behind a hard mask that fit my face less than perfectly. On the other hand, my nose seemed more a part of the mask, than of me. It was architectural, a tall stone monument, proportioned between an obelisk and a pyramid.

I initially responded by feeling that integration was called for. I still feel that, but it took a while for me to flesh out that initial, vague comprehension. Indeed, a certain imbalance of chakras probably needs to be addressed. I am not sure what Geoffrey would say about this. Upon later reflection, I felt the integration needed was that between my outer role and an inner energy and intent.

Among the shifts in perspective that finally enabled a significant breakthrough several days later was when I began to see the ‘mask’ as ‘armor’. In order for this to happen, I first had to detach from my preconception of ‘horns,’ because my programmed association is ‘demonic’. Finally, I realized they equally could be seen as ‘daimonic’ in the pre-Christian, or Greek, sense. Moses had ‘horns’ descending from the Mount, and Botticelli depicts these as ‘horns of light’. They can be understood as a form of radiance, in other words. In fact, a ‘horn’ looking like an ancient, worn pyramid, stands in the picture at my third eye too.

All of this could be seen as part of a helmet as well, and when I realized this, the helmet came full into view, with sockets for eyes and mouth, and nose completely covered with plate. Tho’ a pacifist all my life, I probably have a military past not too far back. I just understand how that stuff works, and actually have a certain respect for it. I do not remember this; indeed, I remember little or nothing of my past lives, but I can understand military tactics and strategy ‘in my DNA’. I presume I played such a role in past incarnations, for other reasons not worth explaining here.

With this slight shift in view, a flood of further imaginings enriched the image even further. The moon was now seen to have an emblem in it, and almost seemed a flag flying in the wind. The ‘landscape’ grew several elements, a building, several animals, a man, a symbol. A blue peacock stood to one side, – on the other a lizard consumed an egg. When I looked back at the peacock, I saw now a seated wise man, a long-beard, a turbaned or tall hatted Magi in dignified composure. When I looked again, I saw a peasant housewife, washing clothes at the water. In the near distance, a large simple cross made me think of Templars (tho it was not a Templar cross). Below that now stood a hut, and a village. Behind it all the high moonlit mountains rose up, and a dark blue lake shimmered in the moonlight.

This vision, though full of meaningful elements, remained scattered and unintegrated, and despite some pleasant features, it remained uncomfortable to look at. It was now increasingly clear that the imperative of ‘integration’ indeed was the driving message. Repeated viewings of the image often left me at dis-ease and with the same impression of being an ‘incomplete being’. I tried again to view the image, and the original tapestry design, as Geoffrey suggested, with an eye to the ‘movement’ within the images.

The chakra represented in the tapestry, Geoffrey told me, was the first chakra, and this was represented, in part, by a downward plunging triangle and a splash of red as it hit the ground. The triangle formed the negative space around one of the horns I first perceived. That position however, prevented its movement of descent in the collaged final portrait. It perhaps could be seen as having been stalled in its descent. Indeed, for whatever reason, I have never felt fully ‘incarnated’. The integration that seems called for in my life mission, as evoked by the portrait, is that of fully settling into a difficult environment in which I have not felt at all comfortable.

The two parts of the picture that seemed least integrated were the broadly smiling screenshot and the ‘armor’ or ‘mask’ that half-covered my visage. The glowing, flickering, reddish landscape fit more with the latter. What was this smiling ‘nice guy’ doing in such a world?

Finally, after prolonged viewings, a happenstance glance at the image provoked a realization that fit with the events of this particular difficult chapter of my life, a condensed fractal of a longer view, tho from a more negative aspect than I usually consider. “Smiling in hell” came over me in a flash. Better put, “to learn to smile through hell” seemed the task set before me.

To fully incarnate, to bring my soul from Source, my light and my life, into this difficult darkened corner of the universe, seems the daunting task I now must embrace. To retain my smile, not in ignorance of, and certainly not because of, the sad spectacles around me, but in spite of them, seems the integrating path before me, the difficult message, the grim encouragement, of Geoffrey’s picture.

To bring light to darkness has been my chosen path since I awoke some years back, both to my own spirit and mission, and to the horrors of this imprisoned Earth. I turned then to writing about such things as how my tax dollars were putting TOW missiles in the hands of terrorists (ask John McCain and Lindsay Graham), never thinking that would cost me my career and my livelihood. Despite the trials, I still feel and firmly believe that Gaia’s beauty and its hostage populations can best be freed by an infusion of light from ‘above’. I guess that is what ‘lightworkers’ are all about. Nobody promised it would be ‘roses, roses.’ Not yet anyway. Of course, roses, we know, grow bright with light. And bloom sweetest from dark soil.