Every once in awhile in our otherwise normal lives something happens that defies the average or expected. A moment or an incident that challenges the physical rules or the anticipations of our shared reality. It can be a subtle inner perception, or something larger that only you can see.
I’ve had such moments. One took place when a female friend in college telephoned me one evening, crying over the phone. She sounded extremely distraught.
Her boyfriend, also a friend, was leaving on a school trip to Paris. His girlfriend was feeling very insecure about his being away, in Paris.
Even though I had an 8 AM exam the very next morning on a book I hadn’t yet read, I invited his girlfriend to come over to my dorm to talk about it.
She arrived and sat in one of those plastic covered chairs the college gives you as part of the student’s dorm room furniture package and immediately began crying. Non-stop.
I sat at my desk, holding my book in my lap just beneath my desktop. I would read a page, and then look up and console her with words of, “Don’t worry, I’m certain everything will be fine.” And then look down to try and read another page.
Several minutes passed. I could hear she was no longer crying. Just a little sniffle.
I looked up. She was looking very reflective, as if she had just had some major personal breakthrough.
But that wasn’t what surprised me.
Framing her head was a bright green rectangle.
Brilliant in color, brighter than any light I had ever seen in my entire life. It was a perfect outline of a rectangle. More precise than a laser, with a frame more or less the width of a fluorescent tube. This bright green rectangle was tilted to one side with the lower “bar” partially hidden behind her neck.
I was seeing a “halo”.
I was a student in architecture. As part of our scholastic training we studied light, color, and the after effects that remain on one’s eyes after staring at a shape or color. My initial thought was that this brilliant rectangular form in bright green that was framing my friend’s head was something in my eyes. I believed I could “erase” it from my own visual distraction by staring at something pure white. I stared at a blank space on my dorm room wall that was painted a mucky off-white. I then looked back at my still sniffling friend.
The bright green rectangle was still there, surrounding her head, as brilliant and well formed as ever.
I raised my eyes and stared, as intensely as I could, at my dorm room ceiling, also a dirty white color. After a good couple of minutes of filling my eyes with white emptiness, I looked over at my friend again. She was still seated in that cheap dorm chair, sniffling. She still had that bright brilliant green laser precise rectangular halo around her head.
What was I to do? I can’t look at my friend while she has a green rectangle around her head! I stared down at the floor and kind of froze.
She spoke, “Is something wrong?”
I was hesitant to look up, but raised my eyes. The green rectangle was gone! I was ecstatically relieved
She was ready to return home to her own dorm now. I guess she just needed a good cry. I walked her to my door. We said goodbye.
After she left I sat at my desk and wondered ~ What did I just see? What was that thing?
There was no light source. There was nothing physical in the room at all that would explain what I saw, or generate such a clearly defined bright brilliant rectilinear form.
Months later I would discover works by Annie Besant. I would read about “Thought Forms”. Was that what I saw? Colors that are well defined that are part of our auras, but express “a thought” as opposed to a general emotion.
I had, since that evening, started to see colors around people.
Nothing as defined as what I saw that evening. Just general colors, like a soft colorful bubble surrounding a person. Sometimes I might experience a color that connects between the person in front of me and my eyes with an underscoring of some energy only I can sense.
The color green was interesting. Green is considered emotionally positive with healing power. It shows balance and harmony when there is an equilibrium between the head and the heart. Green stands for new growth, of renewal and rebirth. It restores us back to a sense of well being, alleviates anxiety, depression and nervousness. It gives us hope. The ability to love.
When seen, green is soothing and relaxing. Or, as Hans Christian Anderson wrote in “The Ugly Duckling”, “Green is good for the eyes.”
Are these colors, shapes and forms around us, surrounding us all the time? But we just don’t see them because of our own limitations? Because we rely on our physical eyes to do our “seeing”?
I woke up the next morning, still a little dazed by what happened the evening before, with barely enough time to make it to my class and take my exam. My grade, on the book I had trouble reading: B+