Finding a language for inner experience

Words that preserve the details

Andrew’s developing language of experience begins with a simple intention: keep the qualities of an event visible. Instead of placing everything inside a broad label such as ‘energy’ or ‘a message’, make room for the different things that were noticed.

This is not a requirement to dissect every meaningful moment. It is a way to make an account easier to understand, return to and compare. Use the parts that help; if a category does not apply, leave it out.

Perception and physical sensation

Begin with what seemed to be seen, heard, smelled, tasted or felt. If there was an image, describe its appearance and how it appeared: a brief inward flash, a sustained scene, or something that seemed located in the surrounding room. Record words as closely as you remember them.

Then describe bodily sensations in their own terms. Where were they? Did they move, pulse, spread or stop? How long did they seem to last? ‘Warmth across my upper chest for a few moments’ preserves more detail than a label that already assumes a particular spiritual explanation.

Emotion and intuitive knowing

A thoughtful way to record perceptions, feelings and shifts in awareness without losing them inside an explanation.

The emotional quality of an experience may be distinct from its imagery. A dark scene might feel peaceful; a bright one might feel unsettling. Describe the feeling rather than assuming it from the appearance of the scene.

A sense of knowing also deserves its own description. What seemed to be known? Did it arrive with reasons, words or pictures, or seem present without them? You can record ‘I had a strong sense that…’ while keeping that conviction separate from anything later confirmed. Felt certainty is part of an account; confirmation is another question.

The perspective of awareness

Where did you seem to be in relation to the experience? Were you watching, participating, aware of your body at the same time, or describing more than one apparent perspective? If ordinary spatial language does not fit, say that too.

The word ‘seemed’ is useful here. It allows a precise account of the experience without requiring a conclusion about where awareness literally was. You can describe an apparent change in perspective and leave its explanation open.

Sequence and what changed afterwards

Put the elements in order where you can. A sound followed by an image and then an emotion is a different account from an emotion that prompted an image. If the order is unclear, keep that uncertainty visible rather than tidying it away.

Finally, record what remained afterwards: an emotional shift, a question, a remembered detail or no noticeable change. If later information appears relevant, add it with its own date and describe how you encountered it. That keeps later knowledge from slipping into the original memory unnoticed.

An example of separating the layers

Here is an invented example, not an account from Andrew’s own journal: ‘While sitting quietly, I pictured a wooden door. I felt warmth in my hands and a brief sense of anticipation. I seemed to be watching the door from outside. No words accompanied it. Afterwards, I wondered whether it represented a new beginning.’

The picture, warmth, emotion and viewpoint describe the experience. A new beginning is the proposed interpretation. The account does not need to decide whether the image was symbolic, spontaneous imagination or something else in order to preserve what was noticed.

A record you can return to

A simple journal entry can use these headings: date and setting; what I perceived; physical sensations; emotions; what seemed intuitively known; perspective of awareness; sequence; and what changed afterwards.

Keep a separate space for research and parallels, followed by ‘Possible Understanding’. The original description can stay the same while this later reflection grows. That is the practical value of the method: you have something to reconsider, rather than only a conclusion to defend.