man overboard

You what?

Calm yourself. It’s no big deal.

I’m sorry – did I hear you right – atomic reversion is no big deal?

Correct.

You mean to say every single atom reverting to its pre-atomic state is “no big deal”?

Yep.

Am I missing something?

No.

Then what, pray tell, are we supposed to do when the entire universe de-atomises?

Nothing.

Nothing?

That’s right.

Nothing?

Yep. That’s what I’d recommend.

And if I’d rather do something to counteract this apocalyptic event?

Like what?

Like anything.

Bit tricky.

Whadya mean?

Well, it’s gonna be tricky do anything much when everything’s de-atomised.

So there’s nothing I can do?

Oh – you can do lots.

I thought you just said –

Yes – I did – but there’s a huge difference between doing and doing – isn’t there? 

Er…

I mean – you can’t really do anything to alter the fact that every atom has flipped back on itself – so, like it or not you’re going to be experiencing a kind of weird weightlessness, but that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re primarily an expression of consciousness, does it?

?

So as an expression of consciousness you can get up to all kinds of mischief, if you so choose.

Like what?

Like panicking, for example… You could definitely throw a hissy fit and have a good ol' fashioned tantrum.

And what would that achieve?

Not a lot – but it’ll help distract you from the rather unique state of being de-atomised.

Oh. Nothing else?

Nope. You’ll just be making a lot of noise and proving to yourself and the rest of the world that you’re possessively or obsessively attached to material form – that you refuse to give consciousness itself any credence or attention whatsoever, even to the extent that you’re willing to throw away the one golden opportunity to observe empirically what consciousness in fact is – which is a once in a precessional occurrence.

I’m sorry – you lost me there.

It doesn’t happen very often – you’ll admit. In fact it happens once every 25,772 years with the precession of the equinox, when the earth wobbles across it’s well-concealed seam.

Sorry – what seam are you referring to? It’s not like the earth is a garment, is it?

Well, now that you mention it – yes, to all intents and purposes the earth is a kind of garment – and yes, indeed, it does have a seam which is the line where before and after come together – largely unnoticed.

So this seam – it’s like stitching, you're saying? 

More or less, or like scar tissue.

In a wound? 

Yep, that kind of thing – which is where you have no nerve cells – no ability to feel what’s going on – so the consciousness takes over as it’s suddenly without external stimuli to keep it facing outwards, focussed on the boundary state of thing-y awareness.

Right. But that doesn’t mean things have to just go away – does it?

Not in itself – but you see, the garment was never more real than the wearer, was it? 

No?

No, it’s more like a symbiosis, where your awareness and its consciousness interact fruitfully. 

You make it sound like we are right at the very centre of creation... the fulcrum, as it were?  

Precisely, and the minute you become empirically aware of this... you trigger an atomic reversion, a kind of apocalypse in a test tube.

How?

Alchemy.

Huh?

Alchemy. Rubbing against this seam gently, softly, respectfully, perhaps even lovingly,  we can bring forth vibrations, harmonics, new unexpected, hitherto undiscovered harmonies of delight, thus engendering new streams, new fields of awareness, new cognition and, ultimately, new realities, new worlds, new life and forms.

Er...

Which is greater than the sum of everything currently in existence. It's our personal contribution to creation and the merry march of life, through infinity back to One. Do you see?

The mind quivers and shrinks from such enormity, were it actually so.

Were it so? How else can you explain creation? How else can you save the world when everything you do materially merely leads to greater complexity. There has to be an underlying unity present throughout, in spite of all division and disharmony, but then again, if fundamentally all is one, how on earth did we ever attain any kind of duality, and no less importantly, how could we avoid hyper-inflational collapse.

Huh...?

In which things just continue sub-dividing ad infinitum in an unstoppable chain reaction. You see, within division itself must be the very source of re-unity, or rather, an intrinsic, dormant, deeper unity just waiting to be discovered, or waiting to be awakened, if in fact reality is sentient.

Sentient? How on earth can reality be sentient?

How on earth can anything be? In the meantime, ours is to train the mind to see beyond duality, beyond the seeming disunity, to train the conscious-awareness to kick its legs, to start to crawl, perchance to stand, to walk and then one day to sense what the eyes could not previously see...

You mean...

Correct, the ~ for want of a word, for love of God.

Oh

Precisely, but down to earth, we need to start with baby steps, to feel the body which patiently awaits our conscious arrival at the coal seam of reality far from the lights of this bright studio.

Black and forbidding, if you ask me.

Through your eyes, yes, but this little grub, this embryonic you sees differently, discerning light in the darkness.

Oh

Feel -- we have the ability to feel more than we see, more than we think we know.

Oh

It transpires that black and white are actually identical – and only appear to be opposites when viewed externally, or mentally, from the "other side", through the prism of matter-based perception, across the fold.

Er… you mean to say –

No – in this instance I don’t “mean to say” anything whatsoever – because right now I’m speaking from the seam of Is.

The what?

No, definitely not a “what”. The seam of Is i'm referring to is a whole different kettle of fish – and the precise words, disturbing though this may sound – are of no significance whatsoever. Right now you are feeling seeing what I’m referring to in your Mind’s eye – regardless of whether you accept it or even agree to see it properly. You have free choice, after all. You’re entitled to block out and not to see whatever you wish not to see – but this is the only place, the only way you can make head or tails of the “seam” – which extends out to the very edge of the universe – wherever that might be and, no less, inwards to the very centre of the world you're part of which, paradoxically, just happens to be somewhere within the infinitude of you your self – deep, deep descending into the oceanic depths of your conscious-ness.

God.

Well, yes. If you’re into shorthand substitutes for long-winded, highfalutin secular descriptions of the All-that-Is both material and conscious – “God” certainly saves a lot of breath – and would be the preferred term of reference, were it not for the fact that religions tend to have subverted somewhat, the original meaning.

No, I mean “God”, as in “what the hell are you on about”? 

Yes, that goes without saying – but still, you seem to have grasped the essentials.

That conscious-ness as you put it – wraps around as well as slicing down and through the very heart of every-which-what and me, no less, too.

Absolutely.

And that conscious-ness is a kind of force which is, in some way active throughout – holding it all together, nessing, finessing, precessing, caressing, essing – which the rational mind cannot, by definition, ever hope to understand without first blocking that segment and converting it into an objective, material version of reality – with a time seam separating it like a revolving light-house beam from the seemingly dark side of infinity – which is only dark as long as we’re minding what, not essing, as opposed to not minding what – essing be-e-tle-y

Y-es

Y-what the hell did I just say.

Y-don’t know exactly, but it sure as y-el sounded right.

Be-e-tle-y – as in beetle I?

I guess so – we never can say – not without stopping the clock and creating a new universe, so to speak – which is rather pointless, wouldn’t you say – as it simply pushes the unknowns or the stacked variables into an opposite section of the precession.

Er…

But poetically – or poetic-el-y – we can come into a knowing-ness – if you follow my sense.

A knowing-ness? Er…

Well – let’s backtrack a little.

Er… ok.

Your “essing beetle-y” was a masterstroke – if you don’t mind me saying.

It was?

Yes, pure genius.

Er… thanks.

Amazing.

Um…

Yes?

What exactly was it about “essing beetle-y” that was, you know, so amazing?

Ah – if only I could express in words the convectivity conveyed by your dabbing of the seam.

My what?

Well, without realising it – you went into a kind of mini-trance and dabbed the seam – ever so lightly – as you traversed it from left to right.

I did?

Yes – evidently – and doing so you left a tiny mark, or a ripple, or the faintest murmur as a kind of reference point – bear in mind that this is not static – we’re in a mindscape so things are flowing back and forth – but the inner-eye, the poetic mind can handle that as you yourself demonstrated – and doing so – with the lightest of touches – you illuminated an aspect of the seam which is all too often overlooked.

I did? Which particular aspect was that?

Why – “essing beetle-y” of course.

But that tells me nothing.

Precisely – what more would you have it tell? Telling something would just be back to square one again in the endless procession of things going nowhere are paint-warping, mind-shrivelling speed.

Er

Whereas “essing beetle-y” as you so delightfully put it – you dab the seam of Is – with the lightest of touches – as only an inspired master could, and end it all with a truly…

Truly what?

Oh – buzz off, noisy bothersome mind.

Hey – who are you talking to?

Buzz off – prating fool.

I’m warning you, there’s a limit.

Buzz off, foul dung breathed arthropod.

?!?!!***        grreeemmmsszziisllwwlwdiiggghhhzhhzzz

Tearing, ripping sound.

You see what I mean?

Actually, yes, I do. Pure genius.

It’s nice to know you’re able to share the magic, the beauty, the…

But – my corpse – what’s going to happen to it?

Oh nothing.

What do you mean?

You just buzzed out. It’s an outside time and space kinda thing.

It is?

Yep.

So I’m not really dead?

It’s a bit like one of those near death experiences.

Except I didn’t see a tunnel of light.

No, you went the other way.

You mean I’m in hell.

Well – I’ll let you answer that yourself.

Um…

Correct. Kindly share with your patient online followers who haven’t yet experienced the wonder of bugging out.

Um… hell is only hell as long as you’re resisting the flow – the All that Is – which you’re bound to do as long as you’re locked in a thing o’centric way of thinking.

Yes.

So – as I came unzipped – I find myself in a different kind of hell – in which the fabric of reality is flowing back and forth through the lens of essing beetle-y – as it were – effortlessly.

Good – but help them – they struggle with the taxonomy.

You mean terminology?

What’s the difference?

Indeed. Dear beloved readers, followers, subscribers or assorted social misfits or mentalees – beetle-y beetle-y essing is a configuration in which instead of insisting on 1, i am, I be the centre of things, the me of me, otherly – zero equals one – it is i am.

No, dear Zie – you’ve completely failed to enlighten them. I sense a dark web of resistance.

Oh dear.

It was in fact something of a trick.

It was?

Yes – because there’s no way physically or mentally you can take them across beetle-y unless they themselves are ready and willing to embrace infinity – which is hardly likely, is it?

I don’t know – I seemed to…

Well – strictly speaking you’re dead. That’s your corpse over there.

Well – I don’t feel dead.

No, but it took a rather fearful blow to get you into this state of seeing things otherly.

So you think they’re doomed?

Afraid so.

And there’s nothing we can do?

Not unless they’re willing to make one small concession.

I’m sure they’ll be willing.

You are?

Yes – after all, what have they got to lose?

Their pride. Their dignity.

Oh.

That’s what’s stopping them.

It is?

Yep. Energetically – pride and dignity keep you from being able to access the seam – being able to descend into hell.

Maybe you should refer to it as “hell” Merry? It’s not exactly going to set them at ease.

Did you know that hell is a word of Germanic origin?

Er…

~Which actually means “bright”?

Er… I do now.

Amazing how we have a habit or turning things on their head, mobius twisting them round in 3D. Believe me, Zie – if they’re ready to give it a try “hell” is the least that they’re going to be worrying about. Pride and dignity are much bigger beasts lurking behind the ego in the sub-psyche.

Oh. So, what do they need to do?

Oh yes – tell us what image flashed before your mind as you came unzipped?

Er…

Yes, it sounds stupid, I know.

Exactly. I was descending through various life forms and species…

Until? What was the jump off point?

That’s just the point – there wasn’t one final point

No?

There was… er…

Out with it.

A beetle.

And?

A tree.

And.

I’m ashamed to admit it.

Now or never.

A formless-ness – kind of ugly and plain – like a mollusc without it’s shell.

An arthropod?

Maybe. It matters not. Feel it, Merry – as you yourself taught me.

Ok – good. And that’s shameful, in some way, isn’t it?

Yes. It is. There’s some deep stigma attached to being formless.

Ah ha. Well done Zie. You’ve done humanity a great service.

Er…

So now the ball’s in their court. Unless they’re willing to face that which they would otherwise deny – unless they’re willing to embrace the depths of hell without prejudice – they’re stuck in a repeat loop – a one-sided, saccharine version of things which amounts to nought because it denies the depths, the darkness within – or worse still – decries them – declaring them evil.

And you’re saying they’re not?

I’m not saying anything, Zie. I merely choose to accept the basic, fundamental, underlying, over-arching structure hinted at, 2d-ed in the yin yan symbol where darkness and light are equal and opposite frozen in a moment of time – but which must, intuitively somehow come together if we are to proceed.

Oh. But can’t it be done beautifully in prayer and meditation?

Of course it can.

Then why the need for hell and messing with our taxonomy?

No need, unless our very fears and prejudices are keeping us from the full experiences of prayer and meditation which we otherwise might have. If they are – then like it or not – you’re trapped and you won’t get anywhere until you confront those deep sub-psyche fears and prejudices – which is why the poet, like it or not, unlike the priest or the monk, finds himself, finds herself essing beetle-y – beyond time, beyond space – zipping down the seam of Is – arriving at a natural state of ~

What? Hey – where did you go Merry? Er? What’s going on? What on earth am I doing here? Oh God – this is insane…

Zie finds himself floating in darkness, in icy cold water – apparently at sea.

Catch a hold of this – sunny. You must’av fallen overboard. Come on lads – let’s haul ‘im in.

0=1