Holosync update: Level 4.2 Review
For more regular updates, I now write at Zen in Heels on surviving Holosync. You’re welcome to catch up there, too.
It started with an immobile neck and a visit to the GP surgery. That was how I began Awakening Level 4.2. Whether it was pure stress or a severe physical reaction to Holosync, it wasn’t pleasant.
Over the course of the last eight weeks, there have been trials and tribulations, moments when I thought I was about to lose everything, and then a gradual rebuilding that is just now starting to take hold.
Eight weeks ago, my whole life was falling apart and I seemed to lose any desire to do something about it. I hit a wall. I’ve spent my life up until now living, at least subconsciously, as though I was just waiting to die. My internal map of reality was about as helpful as a chocolate teapot in a desert.
I’d built my life on being good at surviving hard times. But I needed to have a reason to survive hard times. When I was young, it was getting to university. I didn’t think beyond that point. To tell the truth, I never imagined I’d ever have something you could call “a life.” I thought I was out of the running for that.
Self-hate, self-esteem that was pretty much non-existant, and a resistance to changing that was fueled by intense fear, all ganged up on me and I found it impossible to act practically to do anything about my situation. I didn’t seem to have a reason to carry on. Something inside me ran on a track that said, “In order to move on, everything that was true before has to die. And that can’t happen!” So I just… stopped.
Then I hit adrenal fatigue. Not only was I struggling with this blank wall of inaction, my brain fogged up, I was tired beyond belief and in constant physical pain.
I’ve recently heard that some people do hit this kind of barrier. The old way of being, the old identity, just doesn’t work anymore, but it’s still there and a new alternative takes time to establish. Without being lucky enough to experience an Eckhart Tolle-style full-on egoic meltdown and rebirth, I just kept bumping against the wall over and over, unable to move forward.
At the beginning of August, I was aware that I couldn’t get beyond where I was. In physical pain, I called an acupuncturist who works with the NHS very cheaply. The sessions have unblocked, somehow, whatever was standing in the way, and over the course of four sessions, I feel remade.
Somehow, in the thick of all of this mess, the only thing in my life that’s worked in any way has been Amnar. Just as in the past, I’ve clung to it as a kind of lifeline, a reason to keep going. Even if the whole world was falling apart around me, it was still there and could still give me an outlet. It’s been invaluable.
By last week, I was beginning to think I would spend extra time on 4.2, just because I felt this was some transformational time, that the inner stuff I was dealing with was huge enough and the resistance strong enough to warrant it. Yet by the start of this week I felt better, and better enough to move up to 4.3.
My life has started moving, slowly, although I’m not sure of the direction. I had ground to a halt, unable to move forward because I so totally believed I couldn’t have any kind of a life. Holosync has done enough for me in just over two years that I cannot live a non-life forever (very few could, anyway), but making the drastic, deep-down change has been so hard. I couldn’t imagine any other way of living.
Then, yesterday, I attended the first Aspire to Enterprise course day. We sat for a few hours in a hot, stuffy room learning business law and the basics of being a business. Real, practical “you can do this” kind of help. At the break, two people approached me asking for my help, to coach them to write books.
I walked out and for the very first time, I had glimmerings that it is possible to live a life beyond the one I’ve been living. To be brief, I’ve lived my entire life as a recluse, feeling rejected by and rejecting the world. I’ve hardly had friends, shut myself off from the possibility of ever having a relationship, or doing anything more than struggling by day to day, waiting for it all to end. Even giving up anorexia six years ago did not shake the deep, subconscious roots of this way of being.
Sitting on the bus on the way home, I thought about the possibility of actually really living life. Of building something of value, that would benefit people. Of not being terrified of being physically hurt, all the time. Of just being OK.
So, I decided it was time to push a little harder, and moved on to level 4.3. Tiny little forward steps are made, and there are little glimmers of light. Perhaps in hindsight I’ll say that these were the most profound months of my life. Right now I feel like we might be heading for the point where I can quote the film Nizah (on which I was raised), and which my father quoted to me ten years ago: Only when the tunnel is darkest can the light come again.


