"I hate to sound negative," persisted the follower, "but what exactly are you doing?"
For a moment I felt tense. The disciple had unearthed a question that had badly stung me many times before.
"Sometimes I alter actual physical objects, sometimes I alter your perceptions, and sometimes I alter both," Atmananda said, dispelling the tension with his gentle, soothing voice.
"Atmananda, I *saw* you become a luminous egg," said another follower, borrowing a phrase from the Castaneda books.
"Anyone else?"
"I *saw* light from the stars pass through your body," tried another.
"Very good. Who *saw* me disappear?"
I often saw Atmananda disappear after I stared at him for several minutes without blinking. But during one desert trip in 1983, I saw him vanish independently of the dilated pupils. Then, a moment later, I saw him reappear as someone else.
"What I am about to say," he had announced that night, "is going to come as a shock to you. You see, I am not who you think I am."
The followers stopped fidgeting.