Once, I closed my eyes while listening to one of those crazy Liszt pieces, and I was reaching through a fuzzy hole in my mind toward an empty, elegant, grey-scale room. Almost ridiculously ornate, tonnes of lace and meticulous tapestry, like the sitting room of a Victorian manor house. I kept trying to make the window larger with my mind, but it was like my subconscious wouldn't allow me passage. Finally, after one more push, I felt a sense of amusement at my own efforts, and was aware of something nudging my mind's eye away from the window with unimaginable gentleness, as if it were saying "You don't need to linger here. You can move on now."
Very thought provoking.