Slipping into the Still-Point, Randomly

It’s late. A long day behind me—full of the ordinary rhythms of work and responsibility. Honestly, I almost skipped meditation tonight. I was ready to crawl into bed and call it a day. But something in me whispered: don’t miss it. Not tonight.

So I sat. I began with Core Resonance Breath. No Harmonic Sound Integration this time. I moved into Palatal Neural Engagement. Then naturally transitioned into Extended Conscious Breath and Body-Breath Anchoring. Brief touch of BBS, then into Voluntary Stillness Awareness. A short sit in Somatic Bliss Technique—and then I made the inner decision: Let’s just surrender. No effort. No striving. Just being.

I slipped into the Still-Point Immersion protocol.

That’s when it happened.

At first, the telltale “click” of awareness shifting—the familiar glitch of identity dissolving. Then came the warmth. The bliss. The field opened. I surrendered deeper. Breathing slowed to almost nothing.

And then… Original Intelligence woke up.

What struck me most tonight was that OI seemed surprised. As if it was saying: Wait—how did I get here? Where am I? This is… nice. It was the first time I’ve ever felt OI like that—curious, almost innocent, exploring its own return.

It didn’t last long. But it was potent. Whole. Alive. Fully awake.

Eventually, the triad surfaced together.

I became the Automatic Self—conducting breath, pulses, neural fire. Simultaneously, the Conscious Self re-emerged, watching, interpreting, still echoing OI. For a short, extraordinary moment, the three selves were active and harmonious—distinct, yet integrated. A trifecta of being.

Then, OI gently receded. Conscious Self resumed command, even though part of it knew: you could’ve stayed longer.

I lingered, eyes fluttering open, then closed again. OI still present beneath the surface. Subtle, alive. When I finally raised my hands, the world felt… strange. Not wrong, but unusual. As if something had quietly shifted inside the structure of reality.

And it had.

I’m deeply grateful I chose to meditate tonight. That I gave space for this to arrive. To reawaken. My heart feels full, but not loudly so—more like a quiet, sacred joy humming in the background of my being.

I’ll carry that with me into sleep. And perhaps, into tomorrow.