the salmon of doubt

 

I beg your pardon?

 

I said compartmentalised.

 

Er… not sure I follow your drift.

 

Well, I could have said “fragmented” – but this is actually more deliberate.

 

So we’ve got all this technology that’s essentially inaccessible?

 

Correct.

 

Like Black Ops?

 

Yep. Special access projects – they call them. Advanced anti-gravity technologies, for example, or non-physical weapon systems, energy beams.

 

Like death rays?

Kind of thing – yes.

 

And you believe all that?

 

Let’s just say that their security codes are not unbreakable – not where quantum computing is concerned – or remote viewing.

 

Ok – so it’s for real – you’re saying – and there’s all this sci-fi stuff knocking around out there – warp speed, faster than light travel and the likes?

 

Absolutely – but who cares.

 

Huh?!

 

I mean – it’s no big deal. In the end it’s just technology.

 

Whaddya mean – “just technology?” It’s a quantum leap ahead of where we are. I guess we’re talking zero-point energy systems too, aren’t we? Enough to overturn the entire global petro-dollar financial system.

 

Absolutely – but you still don’t get it – do you?

 

Get what? I want to get my hands on the tech. I wanna see what we’ve really got. I wanna get off-planet. I wanna run my car on water. I wanna see the cure to cancer – all that’s been suppressed for so long – and most of all I wanna quit flying around in those ridiculous tin cans we call jet airplanes. Please! – sixty years or more of technology suppression. It’s enough to drive one insane.

 

And what? You think your life’s going to improve?

 

Huh? Whose side are you on, Seth?

 

No one’s.

 

Well maybe it would help if you joined the liberation movement. Maybe it’s time to take sides. You know, join the resistance.

 

Not really.

 

?! I’m speechless. How can you know all that you do and not want to do something about it?

 

Because technology’s not the issue.

 

But surely we’d be better off if…

 

We could export our violence to other planets?

 

Oh – so you’re worried about that?

 

Not really.

 

Then what?

 

Do you really imagine anyone has the power to control your destiny?

 

Er… apparently, they do – if what you say about these suppressed technologies is true. They’ve managed to keep us in the dark and essentially enslave us – like animals on a reservation. They've chained us to their energy grid and held a financial noose around our necks.

 

Well that’s where I disagree entirely.

 

How? Do you mean to say that we’d be no better off if they'd allowed us to enjoy the fruits of human ingenuity and put to rest long obsolete science and technologies, if they’d adhered to the constitution and acted as public servants rather than feudal overlords?

 

Well, I don’t really think that was the plan – not initially at least: it was more a case of trying to protect the West from foreign enemies – but, in any case, everything they’ve done, and continue to do, is par for the course. It’s how rulers have always ruled.

 

That's no excuse. Times have changed. Why on earth would you seek to justify their criminal deception?

 

Why assume that you and I are fundamentally better or would have done things differently? Politicians are ever faced with awkward choices and getting re-elected or gaining an advantage while jockeying for position or power has little or nothing to do with playing fair, does it?  They’ve always found it hard to stick to the ethical and moral guidelines that we the people like to believe are sacrosanct, and try to impose on them. And, to a large extent, we’re not innocent bystanders, are we?

 

How do you mean?

 

We all have the ability to read people intuitively. If we’ve chosen to ignore or exclude that ability from our arsenal of critical faculties because we prefer to trust our so-called leaders, and live in a sugar-coated version of reality – that’s our own decision, isn’t it?

 

But how can the people possibly gauge the scope of their deception? It beggars belief, doesn’t it, and it’s all been happening incrementally, for decades, hasn’t it?

 

Yes, but we know they’re lying through their teeth, don’t we? I suspect we know far more than we like to admit, and that we secretly prefer the deal we’ve been offered because we’re loath to face the alternative – the dark, mysterious source of our doubts and uncertainties which is happily hidden from sight by the candy-man-can reality they’re serving up. The fact that half the country’s on anti-depressants and the other half on food stamps only goes to show how deep the rot has already set in.

 

I suppose so. So it’s our failure to hold our leaders accountable – you’re saying?

 

Leaders? They’re just people playing a part. We choose to take this theatre seriously, don’t we, because we basically love it. It thrills us to have “kings” and “queens”, “presidents” and “magnates”. It seems so glamorous, so compelling – even the baddies – they too get our little hearts beating with a frisson of fear and loathing. We’re willing suckers for their drama, not innocent victims.

 

I fail to see how we can avoid taking it seriously when these actors, as you call ‘em, have the power to direct the police, tax authorities, the media – you name it. They have a stranglehold over public discourse. They seem to be able to literally control the minds of the masses.

 

Absolutely – but that’s just within the game, isn't it?

 

What do you mean – the game? It’s hardly a game, if you ask me – when bombs are falling, people are being incarcerated, businesses and livelihoods are being destroyed… When humanity is being held hostage by a bunch of narcissistic sociopaths.

 

Not to mention mandated medical procedures which we can’t discuss here, triggering fatal reactions. Absolutely. I agree entirely. It’s beyond a joke.

 

Well, am I missing something?

 

Not really. Words themselves corral us into contradiction? They are what happens when something else, when infinity is excluded from the dialogue. But it was only ever going to be a matter of time, for time is the length of line that separates the hooked fish from the cooking pot, or the world we’re living in from the wonders of mean reversion, when the magic bubble pops and Cinderella has to run home barefoot as the clock strikes twelve.

 

Ok – so, in terms of infinity it’s all just been a game, has it? A lark in the dark, nothing too serious? Temporary?

 

Well, even now you’re using words, so whatever I say’s going to sound insensitive or crass, isn’t it?

 

In that case there’s nothing really to discuss, is there? You’ve locked yourself in your tower of infinite wisdom and we can all go rot in hell, as far as you’re concerned.

 

Well, no, you’re right. I stand corrected. In fact, there is a choice.

 

There is?

 

Yes, absolutely.

 

And what might that be?

 

You can choose to face the salmon of doubt.

 

??

 

More meaningless words – I apologise.

 

But what does it mean?

 

Eventually you grow tired of the warm shallow waters. Deep inside something stirs – a longing coupled with fear and doubt – a need to start a journey back – to engage somehow the other side.

 

Which is?

 

The purposeful, the active side of infinity, which seems to have a mind of its own.

 

Er?

 

That’s when things get interesting, to put it mildly, when the salmon reveals how everything you think you know for certain is, in fact, mercifully, riddled with doubt and that the body of knowledge that seemed to protect you from infinity, in fact, does nothing of the sort. It merely presents a convenient Potemkin facade to satisfy the careless eye of a passing dignitary, but nothing more.

 

You mean to say that each of us individually actually has the power to engage or to reactivate infinity?

 

Individually, yes, how else? If you’re willing to pursue the salmon of doubt upstream. It’s a lonely but thrilling journey. You see – infinity is not what you expected it to be, is it? It’s all bets off – because suddenly you see how everything – literally every thing – is interwoven, interconnected to such a degree that ultimately no one ever really had any power over you whatsoever; likewise no thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.

 

But that can’t be true, surely?

 

Nope! Not certifiably. Seth does a little dance suspiciously reminiscent of a drunken man pretending to be a salmon navigating the bewildering waters of infinity, with sang-froid and peculiar poise.

 

So again, you’re contradicting yourself.

 

Of course. There’s literally no point trying to prove such matters because the result will never satisfy anyone’s expectations,  nor their need for something tangible, something quantifiable.

 

How do you mean?

 

Well, in the rational world of things said and things done – we can all see that people and institutions have a great deal of control over us – there’s no denying that – is there?

 

No, there isn’t.

 

And the mind is bound to operate within that rational framework where a causes b resulting in c. There’s nothing we can do about it. Imagine you’re pointing a gun at me – and you shoot. What happens next?

 

You die.

 

Absolutely, or I’m injured. And who’s to blame?

 

Well, if I’m the one who shot you…

 

Yes, but I might have been threatening you in some way.

 

Ok – but my pulling the trigger is what causes your death – doesn’t it?

 

Yes and no.

 

Huh?

 

You see – in terms of the power within each one of us – in terms of the infinite – it requires my acquiescence for me to die or suffer at your hands.

 

It does? You could have fooled me!

 

I know, it’s confusing as hell, isn’t it?

 

But why? It’s evidently absurd.

 

Because I’m alive – and a part of the infinite we refer to as life itself – or Creation – or, come to think of it, God.

 

And?

 

Just a part, mind you – but still – that’s sufficient, whereas the bullet ain’t. It’s just a thing.

 

It may be just a thing – but it’s loaded with enough energy to snuff out the candle of your life flame, isn’t it?

 

Yes, if I acquiesce.

 

Huh?! I fail to see the logic.

 

I know, because you’ve excluded infinity from the equation. You see, life itself – for better or for worse, carries within it something unique.

 

You’re telling me.

 

It carries a direct link to the infinite – which is the event horizon beyond which there is no matter – beyond which matter cannot go.

 

Oh.

 

So, no matter how hard or cruel that bullet may be – or how fast it flies – for it to penetrate the field of Is within you – for it to reach the wellspring of life itself – it has to do something that it can’t technically do.

 

Er… Seth, aren’t you overcomplicating things?

 

Absolutely. But that’s only because I’m using words to describe what words can’t reasonably describe. If, however, you ignore the words and agree to receive the mental images I’m sending you – the direct meaning – it’ll make a lot more sense, I assure you.

 

Mental images?

 

Well yes. A kind of telepathy.

 

You mean to say you can actually communicate without words?

 

Absolutely. But it’s hardly surprising if you think about it, is it? – if we are all individually, as living beings, carriers of the infinite. So, the bullet cannot penetrate the infinite within you because a bullet is finite, but a bullet can kill a human if he or she has decided to suppress and deny infinity within himself – to wilfully downgrade life itself to being a thing – to put all his eggs in the basket known as “body” or “matter”. The body can definitely be hurt or killed by a bullet, can’t it?

 

Yes, of course it can – I just can’t see why you imagine the body could avoid dying if I didn’t acquiesce?

 

Well, there’s nothing wrong with that, Ten. Your failure to see makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?

 

It does?

 

Yes, because you’ve compartmentalised yourself.

 

I have?

 

Yes. You’re no different from the government, the so-called State you’ve been having a go at, with all its secret technologies. You’ve likewise hidden the information from yourself – you’ve artificially created a reality where such things are impossible or inconceivable, where things have to add up numerically.

 

Oh. But why do I stop being infinite and thus protected from the bullet – just because the information has been hidden away, or because I’m feigning ignorance?

 

Good question Ten. It’s a matter of Time, so to speak.

 

Time?

 

Yes.

 

How so?

 

You’re heavily invested in Time, and the feeling that things are moving inexorably in a certain direction, from the inflexion point where you first chose to experience “things in their entirety” by excluding everything else that can’t be bundled up in Time’s package deal. It’s a bit like gravity and the belief that you are stuck to the ground and cannot fly. These things are true to the extent that “things” can be true.

 

Oh. And to what extent is that?

 

Obviously to the extent that things matter, rather than life itself, or the extent to which you believe that things can deliver whatever you’re hoping or praying for. You decide. So, long story short – you’re wedded to Time and things until you completely lost all recollection of the inflexion point where it all began, until you’re bound to uphold Time, your Reality-of-things sponsor, at all costs, for fear that you might be cut adrift in the shockingly unpredictable quantum stream, even to the point of choosing death rather than decoupling from Time itself. The alternative – the salmon of doubt – seems so tenuous, so uncertain… mere fiction. Doubt needs to excluded, eliminated at all costs...

 

So?

 

So the bullet wins, usually, because we acquiesce, bound by the now impervious logic of matter, but knowing deep inside our soul that there’s more to me than the horcruxed version trapped in a now defunct time stream. A failed investment, yes, but not, ultimately, the end.

 

You make it sound so…

 

Plausible?

 

I’m not sure I’d say that... scripted, or perhaps “mathematical” is the word I was looking for.

 

Well yes, there is a rather splendid mathematics in play here.

 

Oh no – not your ridiculous “zero equals one”.

 

None other.

 

But it’s utter nonsense, isn’t it?

 

Yes. Utter nonsense until you’re facing down the barrel of a gun watching a bullet making its way to your thingness of body.

 

And suddenly – when death is the only remaining option – we’re willing to discard all reason and logic and unequivocally accept that numbers are basically meaningless, mere cheerleaders for Time’s fascist army of goose stepping procedural inhumanity – is that what you’re saying?

 

I’d concur, up to a point.

 

Up to a point? You mean to say back up to the inflexion point?

 

Yes. As long as we’re in the experiment, in the drama of things-that-matter terribly – we’re forever playing around with numbers and time, generating reams of receipts and timestamps.

 

You make us sound like androids or a virtual reality simulation.

 

Well, funny you should mention that… Human we may be, human we are – but again – only up to a point – because the bifurcation inserting us into the Time stream rendered us half human, half machine – we became part of a numbers game, didn’t we?

 

Oh my God. This is beyond insane.

 

Well, just think about it…

 

Honestly, I’d rather not.

 

Absolutely.

 

Would you stop saying that?

 

Saying what?

 

Oh no – I’m not going to fall for that one – Seth. I’m not a complete idiot you know.

 

Seth grins inanely.

 

You just did.

 

I did what?

 

Fell for it.

 

I what?

 

You fell for it – hook, line and sinker.

 

I did not.

 

There you go, again.

 

What on Earth are you on about?

 

Outside Time – outside the limited version of things you refer to as reality – the word “no” or “not” is absent.

 

It is? How come?

 

Because there’s nothing to deny. All is – like it or not.

 

So?

 

So, when you denied the word – when you said “oh no” instead of “absolutely” you triggered that very word in zero Time – in the unbifurcated version of happening, the isness of be.

 

The what? You mean to say…?

 

Absolutely. Yes.

 

No way – that there’s an unbifurcated version of this?

 

Has to be, doesn’t there – zero equals one.

 

My God.

 

Bit like – energy being neither created nor destroyed.

 

So this version – it’s highly tenuous – you’re saying?

 

Yep.

 

Kind of “thin ice” or my favourite: “avalanche waiting to happen”.

 

That's right. Spot on.

 

And If I “oh no” here – in the full version I’m still accepting or affirming reality? Right?

 

Absolutely.

 

Darn. And does that change anything?

 

Absolutely.

 

Please stop saying that – it’s really annoying me.

 

Ok, Ten, absolutely. Oh, by the way, Zero equals one.

 

No…

 

Ten finds the walls of his reality flickering – fading – and suddenly he’s swimming upstream – a salmon – the salmon of doubt, apparently – until he finds himself in strangely familiar surroundings – back at the place of his birth – back at the spawning ground.

 

Oh my God – this is it. This is where it all began. The first split. And there – a tiny little part of my soul.

 

A horcrux – she calls it in Harry Potter – rather ingeniously.

Ten tries to pick it up. Ow! It hurts.

 

You bet it does.

 

It feels…

 

Wrong?

 

Yes. It does. Absolutely.

 

It is. It was. But you can set it right.

 

I can?

 

If you’re willing to decompartmentalise. To reconnect. To unsplit.

 

But – they feel so different, the divided pieces.

 

Absolutely.

 

Oh this is too much!

 

Perhaps numerically, yes, but on the other hand, look – there is a rather splendid salmon – feel how it brings the two sides back into alignment – feel how nestling in doubt and uncertainty is a burning desire to come back home, to unmake the unbreakable vow that bound you in Time and Matter until...

 

Now Ten gives his attention entirely over to the salmon of doubt – feeling it swimming through every moment of his Tidal stream, back to source, in an ever-growing, now unquenchable desire to return to surely-not infinity, where things are no longer things, where birth and death coexist – where the salmon spawns after making the long, arduous journey back home, back to source, and then fades away to oblivion – now complete – a purely narrative device, nothing more, a now obsolete metaphor,  unless...

 

Meanwhile, word has come in through reliable sources that in secret underground bunkers, laboratories and production facilities throughout the USA encryption protocols have been failing at an alarming rate. Data has been leaking out ever faster while experts frantically seek to uncover the cause of these catastrophic data breaches. Security personnel have been widening their search beyond international spy agencies, though Russia and China are still considered the most likely culprits. Interestingly, these seemingly unintentional data releases always appear to coincide with the latest “salmon of doubt” internet sensation episode – a kind of flash mob, Mexican wave internet mobilisation linking huge numbers of online participants in a random chain of whackamole-cum-follow-that-fish viral gaming, with astonishing results. Participants have claimed a plethora of inexplicable, unanticipated outcomes – from serious money suddenly appearing in their bank accounts, to unsolicited, but equally serious job offers; from newly discovered psychic abilities, to long lost friends or family members suddenly returning home, not to mention entire blockbuster filmscripts as well as novels and poems downloading into their heads verbatim. Some are even claiming the dead coming back to life, though this has yet to be verified independently. Psychologists are struggling to come up with an explanation for the salmon of doubt phenomenon, but at the moment they’re leaning towards a mass delusional psychosis. Be that as it may, the number of individuals now hunting for the salmon of doubt online is rising exponentially and an increasing number are even questioning whether alien technologies are in play.

 

Bloody ridiculous, if you ask me. Huh? Where is everyone? Where did they all go?

 

 

 

0=1

undoubtedly

sweeping the yard

 

So let me get this right… you’re not doing this – writing this blog for fame or fortune.

 

Kerchink.

 

You think I’m being slow witted, don’t you?

 

Not really.

 

But why would you go to all the trouble…

 

What trouble? It’s really no trouble at all.

 

To write all this…

 OM

 

If you’re not even getting paid to do so? I mean – it’s not exactly fun, is it, sitting in front of a computer for hours on end?

 

Ah… that’s what you’re getting at.

 

Well yes, isn’t it a reasonable question.

 

Of course it is.

 

Then what’s the objection?

 

No objection.

 

Then why the secrecy?

 

No secrecy whatsoever. I’m completely open and transparent in my dealings with you and all of humanity.

 

“All of humanity”?!

 

Ok – whoever is part of this.

 

But that’s simply untrue.

 

?

 

Writing just for the sake of writing.

 

Yes – that would be rather tiresome, I have to admit. Doing something for no good reason – just because one has nothing better to do.

 

So, perhaps it’s something spiritual? Like yoga or meditation?

 

Kerchink. Now you’re talking.

 

It’s a way of connecting with something deeper within yourself – is that it?

 

Very unidirectional of you.

 

Not within yourself. A way of connecting with higher spiritual forces? A presence?

 

That’s the other side of the pendulum. But you’re trying to squeeze this into convenient categories – the kind of categories that the mind likes to use to tick boxes and file everything neatly away.

 

And that’s a mistake – you’re saying?

 

A mistake – that’s just such a category. It’s what the mind does – automatically – when it’s trying to process things, when it’s trying to make sense of something that it finds hard to comprehend.

 

Well, I do find this hard to comprehend.

 

Naturally – in the same way you’d find music hard to comprehend if you only ever looked at notes rather than heard the sounds.

 

So…

 

So whatever I’m doing – you’ve had the good fortune to experience directly – so you definitely know more than you think you do – but that knowledge, or that awareness may not fit neatly into one of your squares – and that’s what the mind is programmed or required to do – in order to ensure that reality remains flat and manicured, like a carefully managed garden.

 

So… there’s stuff in what you’re doing which can’t be compressed, can’t be categorised, can’t be…

 

Naturally – there’s something natural in what I’m doing – which doesn’t conform to the requirements or specifications of a digital operating system. That’s not to say that you shouldn’t allow your mind to do its stuff – but if you’re aware of the process – aware that the mind wants to tidy everything neatly away, and that, in the process, it often converts data or experiences into file formats which basically sweep all that is alive and fresh, all that is really noteworthy under the rug of homogeneity – then you’d probably want to allow another space for stuff which can’t or shouldn’t really be processed in that way – to ensure that you still have access to the live feed, the direct experience.

 

Ok. But we’re getting off topic.

 

Are we?

 

Well yes, because I’m trying to figure out what’s really motivating you.

 

Ah that.

 

Precisely.

 

It could be tricky.

 

Why’s that?

 

Because you’re making basic assumptions which may be fundamentally mistaken.

 

I am? Like what?

 

Like the fact that I’m a guy writing things down.

 

But that’s exactly what you are.

 

Agreed. But if I were just a guy writing things down – then a. I wouldn’t – what would be the point? and b. if I did so, for no good reason – then I'm clearly wacky.

 

I don’t see why – lots of people like writing – poets for example.

 

Ah – yes – poets. And they’d be poets. So it’s ok.

 

Well yes – a poet would be a poet. Seems kind of obvious really.

 

And uncontroversial?

 

And uncontroversial.

 

But what exactly is a poet?

 

Ah – now there’s a question Seth.

 

…

 

No one really knows. Not exactly.

 

And yet we do, don’t we? We know a poet in the same way we know an artist or a composer – people who are working creatively – creating some kind of unique content that is more than simply content – that in some way needs to come through from up there – if the poet, artist or composer has a good enough connection.

 

Well yes – It’s just difficult to express exactly what a poet exactly is.

 

On the contrary – nothing could be simpler.

 

Really?

 

A poet is a man or woman who writes poetry.

 

Yes, but then we need to ask what is poetry, don’t we – because there are plenty of mediocre song writers, poets or hacks who churn out stuff that may superficially look like poetry…

 

But which isn’t.

 

Exactly.

 

So they’re not poets, in the same way there are lots of people who live their lives without ever really being alive – without shining eyes – without a shining heart, who aren't in fact human.

 

Oh. I’m not sure we want to go down that path, Seth.

 

No?

 

No. Let’s stay on topic.

 

Ok.

 

So you’re a kind of poet, are you?

 

If I do as a poet does – if I open a channel and allow the waters to flow.

 

Then a poet is someone who allows the real stuff, the living waters to flow? Who revitalises our world?

 

I guess so.

 

But doesn’t he or she need to write poetry?

 

Of course.

 

And this – isn’t exactly poetry, is it?

 

Correct.

 

Then you’re not exactly a poet, are you?

 

No, I’m not. But then again – if we’re talking about what things really are – the simple truth – then none of these labels really matter – because you’re allowing the mind to try and figure out whether this bird is actually a bird, rather than allowing the magic of bird to reveal itself to you.

 

And how exactly can the magic of bird reveal itself to me?

 

Good question? I don’t really know – though we could write about it and we might learn.

 

But why would I want to study the “magic of bird” as you put it – if I’m a scientist looking to understand the facts?

 

You wouldn’t. Your scientist doesn’t want to know anything much about the magic of things, does he (or she) – because very, very soon all his (or her) neat little categories and boxes are going to disintegrate like a house of cards.

 

Oh! Surely it can’t be that bad?

 

It’s neither bad nor good. The scientist has to fight to defend artificial borders, artificial boundaries, in the same way you need to pay far greater attention to words than to what’s actually going on in reality.

 

That’s a rather pessimistic view, if you don’t mind me saying.

 

Of course I don’t mind. I wouldn’t necessarily agree with you that it’s pessimistic – there’s nothing particularly pessimistic about being a cleaner and cleaning the same street or house again and again – knowing that it’ll be dirty again tomorrow – because a. you’re getting paid to do so and b. there’s an element of kung fu involved.

 

Kung fu?

 

Yes. If you do your cleaning beautifully, conscientiously, with awareness – then your simple and somewhat futile action can lead you, nonetheless, to a higher level of consciousness – over and beyond the limitations of what you’re doing.

 

They can?

 

Absolutely. If that’s your intent.

 

Ah. So, perhaps that’s what you’re doing too?

 

Correct. I’m sweeping up all kinds of stuff as I write – and processing it as I breathe, as I stay calm and centred, as I…

 

Oh! You just…

 

Correct – I allowed myself to feel, to experience, to connect with the infinite lurking in, behind or around those simple little words.

 

So it’s not futile, then?

 

Is that what you’re afraid of?

 

I have my fears, from time to time, you know.

 

Don’t we all.

 

But you think that we can progress?

 

Whatever happens, we’ll either be moving forwards or backwards. There’s no staying put. The infinite – like it or not – is circling us relentlessly – like death itself – waiting to pounce.

 

And you’re happy about that?

 

About accepting reality and facing it? Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?

 

Well it’s rather disturbing, if you ask me.

 

Absolutely. It’s deeply, deeply disturbing if you start to face it in its entirety.

 

Gulp!

 

Which is why very few do, do they?

 

I…

 

Now if you notice that there’s a disturbing void at the very centre of your existence – what are you going to do about it?

 

I’m going to try to make it go away. To plug the gap, or heal it.

 

And if you can’t? If it’s fundamental? As fundamental as time itself.

 

Then I’m going to go crazy – because no matter what I’m doing it’s going to undermine the very bedrock of my existence.

 

Right. So there you have it.

 

I do?

 

The human predicament.

 

You mean to say…

 

We’re all doing our best to manage the void – either by concealing it – or by turning around and facing the other way – not because we’re cowards or weak – but because otherwise existence is more or less impossible to bear.

 

Oh dear. This is very gloomy.

 

Yes and no.

 

I fail to see how you can put a positive spin on this so-called void?

 

Well, there’s a time for action and a time for inaction. A time for self-deception or concealment, and a time for facing the truth and taking back your power.

 

Wait a second – what’s acknowledging this terrible void got to do with “taking back your power”?

 

Good question bro.

 

Thanks.

 

Supposing you’ve grown and matured in some way, supposing you’re now ready to face that void, failure to do so would mean you chose to remain at your current level of development – which was fine until it became your limiting factor, your refusal to advance.

 

So the fact that the void has come back into view indicates that I’ve made progress – that I’m now ready to face it again.

 

Yes.

 

How can you be so sure?

 

You’re asking me to remove your doubts and uncertainties. I’m not going to do that. If what I’m saying is true then it’s true – but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding – not in my claims or assurances.

 

So you’re sure?

 

You see how the mind desperately looks for assurances. It makes no difference to you whether I’m sure or not – because you are you – no one can take you through the void – no one can die for you. That’s a fact.

 

Ok, I get it.

 

If I say something and it’s true – somewhere, somehow you’ll feel it and know it, "in your bones" – but that may be a part of you that’s very far from where you are right now mentally, emotionally or psychologically.

 

So how would I know?

 

You wouldn’t – not in the part of you that’s currently controlling the narrative – but that part of you is not what you’re evolving or growing into – is it? 

 

I don’t know.

 

That’s where you are now. If you’re going to carry on growing or evolving in some way – there’s another part of you – or a truer version waiting to be stumbled upon unexpectedly, waiting to be brought forth – waiting to be disinterred from deep within.

 

And how would I do that if I'm full of doubts?

 

You’d zig zag.

 

Huh?

 

You’d zig zag.

 

I don’t get you.

 

You wouldn’t.wanr to march straight forwards into your new me unless you had some kind of revelation.

Like a road to Damascus experience?

That's right, then you might. But otherwise you’d wiggle back and forth, testing the waters – to and fro, probing your uncertainties – allowing sommat ain't right feelings and real life issues to pile up, enough to provide the impetus to take another step forward.

 

So laborious.

 

Unless you’re practising kung fu.

 

There you go again.

 

Unless you’ve already figured out that whatever you’re thinking or doing in life, no matter what, is part of something bigger – something you can’t possibly comprehend at the moment – which thus prompts you to start looking for the infinite, the unknowable, the magic in all things, no matter how small – knowing that the limiting factor is, above all, our inability to see what’s right there in front of our eyes.

 

So sweeping the floor is as good as any other action?

 

Absolutely. Or writing a blog. Or going to work. Or walking in the forest talking to the birds – but all the time we’re zig zagging back and forth – like a violin’s bow – over the violin strings – making them vibrate – and somewhere deep inside we can feel those vibrations – we can sense what they mean – and part of us that’s already there – already transmitting or receiving – is able to respond to our successes and failures.

 

It would be great, Seth, if it weren’t so vague.

 

Oh – don’t worry about that.

 

Why not?

 

Because time has the knack of ensuring you feel whatever you need to feel, or experience whatever you need to experience, or realise whatever you need to realise, in order to put two and two together, or in order to rediscover that you're more than a digital circuit in an internet of things. Even the fear, the boredom or doubts are an essential part of the process. Learning to engage them, learning to extract whatever medicine or message they are delivering is the magic of being alive. And believe me – it ain’t gonna fit in any predetermined boxes or definitions.

 

So I’m going to have to experience some kind of mental derangement syndrome, am I?

 

Kind of, yes. You’re going to have to accept that you’re more than the convenient beliefs of a disconnected social environment. That this voice, the voice of this blog, for better or for worse, is part of a reality that may seem strange or outdated but which is as natural as birds singing, the wind blowing or rain falling.

 

Ah. Nature.

 

Correct. And some kind of understanding, some kind of awareness that nature is present throughout – even in your body and your mind – that you’re part of it – like it or not – and that it ain’t digital, or algorithmic, no matter what they say.

 

But nature is so fragile – it’s barely hanging on.

 

Your definition, not mine.

 

?

 

Nature is present throughout. You think you know the planet you’re living on? You think nature is restricted to plants and animals? Give me a break.

 

Er…

 

Qufie’s nature too, you know.

 

Your quantum field?

 

Absolutely. It’s certainly not artificial – that’s for sure.

 

But if the planet is destroyed, or the biosphere collapses in a mass extinction event – what then happens to your precious quantum field?

 

What happened to nature before your precious Big Bang – or in the billions of years after it – when supposedly there were just clouds of gas?

 

But we can’t just let things collapse, can we?

 

You’re looking in the rearview mirror.  Nature, or even Big Bang as you call it, Ten, is ongoing, happening all the time, at the event horizon of reality, and the event horizon of reality is not then, billions of years ago, but here and now, just at the very edge of perception and awareness, at the edge where the rubber hits the road – where things emerge from the unthingable and unknowable side of

Of what? 

Um. Let's call it Um.

 

Um?

 

The undecided awareness. The undermined mind.

 

Um – ok. I can go with that. Um…

 

There – kung fu in action. You’ve now raised um to a state of awareness.

 

And this?

 

This is our back and forth bow string – this is our carpet braider making patterns out of the strands of light, the filaments of awareness that reality itself comprises.

 

Head spin.

 

Which is why we prefer, in the end, to…

 

Seth? Where are you?

 

Ten – who the hell is Seth?

 

Er…

 

You ok bro? Looks like you need a rest.

 

No, I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.

 

I thought you were talking to someone.

 

What? No, I was just thinking aloud.

 

Thinking aloud? Er...

 

Dude – just chill, ok. Sometimes you gotta let things roll. I’m a creative soul, aren’t I.

 

You are?

 

I can be. I think I’m a poet.

 

A poet? You’re kidding, right?

 

Why? We’ve all got creative potential you know.

 

Ok, whatever you say man, but...

What?

If you're feeling ok now, let’s get the job done, ok?

 

Ok bro. Your folks – telling you to sweep the entire yard. It’s insane. You must of really upset them.

 

Yeah, but it’s not so bad. You’re helping me. 

 

Sure. I’m happy to help. And you know what…

 

What?

 

Kung fu.

 

What? You’re off your rocker, man!

 

No really. Kung fu.

 

Time lapse photography as they work away, back and forth, making piles of autumn leaves across the ever-expanding backyard, then, huh? For the first time, Ten finds himself experiencing what the heck... definitely "wyrd" – the quantum field aligns in a new configuration connecting him with this…

 and this…

and suddenly the Matrix skips a beat     a new form of poetry emerges from the back and beyond of infinity. Briefly, perceptibly, Ten dezeroes, and experiences Um... One   

 

0=1

does it not?