In which I discover the God particle in the palm of my hand

The "Why I can fly" movement makes it onto the front page of news and social media across the globe. Recent articles in the New York Times, Huffington Post, Rolling Stone magazine, The UK's Guardian, the Economist and Nature to name but a few have been looking at the phenomenon with the usual mix of fear, trepidation, confusion, perplexity and increasingly unconvincing irony. As always the mass media is behind the curve, desperately harking back to a bygone era of Newtonian physics, of central government, top down economics controlled by a few major corporations, of big science that never seems to give us the God particle it's always promising to deliver – presumably because it's not theirs to give, probably because we already have it in the palm of our hands, if we're only willing to take the trouble to have a look.

"Oh my God – I can see it. It's really there. Oh my God! It's so awesome. Oh my God!"

Well there you go – speak of the devil – Gemma Poltruth has just "discovered" it – the God particle, more or less simultaneously with a hundred and sixteen other individuals across the globe, and you know what that means... it's only a matter of time before it spreads – before everyone groks – you get it. It's 100 monkey redux – and once a critical mass have seen the new "truth" – it spreads like a virus directly through the back passage.

"The what?"

Oh come on Styopa – the back passage of the collective consciousness.

"Oh, gotya – carry on Wanda, I wanna hear more of this..."

So critical mass is anything between 116 and 116 000 depending on what it's affecting. The God particle is affecting everything and everyone but it's almost completely irrelevant how many need to "get it" before the transfer to collective consciousness happens – coz nothing's gonna stop this Faery juggernaut. 

"You're killing me Wanda – Faery juggernaut! Love it! LOL."

Gemma Poltruth stares into the palm of her hand, and for the first time in her life realises that the seed of all creation, of the entire universe was always nestled there in a dimensional recess – a small concave that conceals it from 3D eyes, but only as long as they're running under I-mind/what matters' "wilfully blind" protocol – in which we fail to see whatever might endanger or undermine the seem of is – the precious beyond belief illusion that this reality matters objectively.

She sees it like a star in a jar, if you've ever observed the science experiment. Go online and check it out if you haven't. Quite literally, there in the palm of her hand is a star – pulsating, flashing, both intensely dark and intensely bright – for it is as much black hole as it is star, and it just happens to contain within it the entire mass of the universe.

"So let me get this straight – you're saying this unknown woman Gemma Poltruth is able to hold the entire mass of the universe within the palm of her hand. Which hand, by the way?"

What does it matter which hand... just observe for a moment how she intuitively, quickly starts interacting with the God particle – feeling it's presence within her – within all things – for it is within every atom anywhere you might care to look, and it can at any moment extricate itself from one or all of them, thereby collapsing them into their indeterminacy – into their corresponding wave function. "Tee hee" – she giggles to herself – "it's all fractal – it has no mass – tis no matter – I'm free!" and yes, she is indeed completely free. For all her life Gemma Poltruth has felt a kind of obligation to uphold reality. It was never clearly articulated – but here at the back of her mind was this feeling that everything could, perhaps would collapse in on itself if she doesn't give of herself – if she doesn't uphold it with her consciousness – and so, like so many people, she was constantly paying an unseen tax – a tithe to hell – funding the very object material reality that was exploiting her and treating her so atrociously – little suspecting that it was only her consent that continued this state of affairs indefinitely. As soon as she has her Gandhi moment and withdraws her passive consent – without even having to go to prison, the whole of reality shifts imperceptibly, imperceptibly, perceptibly – whoa – easy does it – gently – gently – oh yes – oh wow – it's completely rearranging itself at the atomic level into the "no such thing as a free lunch" configuration.

"The what do you call it?"

The "no such thing as a free lunch" configuration. Everything has to be paid for energetically. It was only possible to create hell on Earth if I the people was, albeit unwittingly, willing to fund the programme. Where else would the vast energy requirements have found the financing for the "life is hell" platform.

"But what do you mean?"

Don't you see? The "life is hell" platform is infinitely costly because it requires almost the complete rewrite and distortion of that which is. It involves turning nature on its head and pretending it's real, and involving the whole of humanity in a grand conspiracy which is less conspiracy, more collusion, in which we create a synthetic reality, in which we seem to be what we are not – powerless slaves within a predatory, inhuman system... This has been our grand collective design, and it's been a hugely successful project – so successful we've almost destroyed the very reality we've been playing in.

"Well, I don't see how you can call that successful. It's a terrible shame what's been happening here on earth – the suffering, the degradation, the pain..."

Don't you just love it?

"Don't. Shame on you. Shame!"

So there you are – the 3D mind plays the victim role to perfection and adds fuel to Phlegethon's fire, but no sooner have you located the God particle – which you can call Hicks Boson if you're into silly names, or anything else you like – just as long as you set eyes on it and start playing around. That's when the walls come crashing down.

"But I'm not sure I like the idea of walls crashing down."

No, me neither, but what about the Berlin Wall? I'm sure most of us agree that was a wall that needed to come down, and we most of us rejoiced as it was pulled down, often by the bare hands of Berliners. Well, we've reached our own personal Berlin Wall moment. The collective consciousness is now in the process of massing on either side, and the first stones are already being removed by the 116 who made history by finding the same God particle that the scientific community has been searching for, over hill and under dale, at vast expense – which reminds me – "energetic exchange".

 "I beg your pardon. Where did that one come from?"

 Well, where do you think all the money in the world comes from in the first place?

 "Er... from the gold that badly paid workers dug up?"

Nope.

"From the money created out of thin air by bankers?"

Nope – they were only able to get away with it because we are continually funding them within the "tithe to hell" framework agreement.

"So from us you mean?"

Yep. All the money in the world came from our downpayment when we agreed to finance this version of reality. It was our freewill choice to do so. We made our payments and thus the laws of energy exchange were temporarily circumvented – people were allowed to do stuff to other people without seeming to have to pay as it's all just theatre – and that made it possible for us to experience the kind of energetics that gave the rest of Creation the ultimate show – I mean – they were completely addicted to what's been going on here – because we've been running the kind of frequencies, generating the kind of Story code that was possible no where else – which explains why it's been, at times, what can only be described as bloody painful.

"So why did we do it? Are we just suckers for punishment – or martyrs or what?"

We did it for ourself, and also for our parents – whom we love more than anything else – though we mostly blank out and forget who they are while we're here in 3D.

"Ok – run that by again please. "For ourselves?!" Why would we suffer for ourselves?"

Well obviously because we're more than we realise – and the rest of ourself is addicted to this reality show, loving every minute of it and learning the kind of lessons that would otherwise be completely unattainable. But it's enough. We've taken it far enough. It's time to recoalesce, to reunify.

"Ok – I can handle that – so we're sitting in the auditorium enjoying this tragi-comedy, and not just sticking needles into one another on stage."

Yes, and because we share consciousness with all that we be – it means the pain can at any moment be switched off completely. Deep inside we've always known that.

"To be honest I have my doubts. If we were able to switch off the pain or simply withdraw our consent and exiting the stage – I suspect we'd have done so more often."

You'd have thought so – but ever been reading a really good book, or watching an amazing film and you're bursting to go for a pee – and you can't tear yourself away, and you're holding out for hours until finally you relent... It's kind of like that.

"I'm sceptical, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, mainly because I want to hear more about the parents you referred to."

Of course you do – but you have to realise that you know just the same as me what I'm talking about. You happen to be the product of the divine feminine and the divine masculine – of Goddess energy and God – of the Isness and the Creator – names and words – names and words – tune in to your own knowledge – you cannot download this from me.

"Well, I've never felt particularly comfortable with all this talk about the Goddess, or God for that matter."

Nope – why would you feel comfortable, when everything you're doing and being here in 3D is antagonistic to, or in denial of them. It's bound to feel strange. It's bound to trip some switches and ring some alarm bells in your conscious-awareness. That goes without saying, but be that as it may, you are, without being aware of it... deeply, at a level of consciousness far removed from the hurly burly of daily affairs, deeply devoted to them, and paradoxically, serving them even in your denial and abnegation.

"Well, I don't see how, even if it were true."

No, but the moment you set eyes on the God particle these things start making perfect sense. At that moment you come into realignment with Creation and Creator, and thus through Creation with the Uncreated, the formless, the Mother of All that is, the quantum Vacuum if you like.

"But isn't that just emptiness?"

Oh no, the vacuum is defined as "a space devoid of matter" but that's not really saying much if matter only exists in space and time. So it's a kind of emptiness, but to have an empty space you need to have conscious-awareness, so 0=1 if we balance the equation we find that the vacuum is, in a sense, pure consciousness, where all of matter is completely dissolved in the isness of simply being – until the consciousness becomes self-aware, trips over itself and tumbles back into material reality.

"Oh..."

Yes, it's a mind bender – I apologise, but moving swiftly on..."

"No, but how does it happen – how does consciousness trip over itself and tumble back into materiality?"

...Jack and Gill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Gill came tumbling after.

"The nursery rhyme."

As so often is the case, the mysteries of the quantum stream are usually hidden in the least likely places. Why after all, would they go up a hill to fetch a pail of water? and what was the water they were really fetching, and why did Jack fall and break his crown, and...

"and why did Gill come tumbling after?... Yes, it is intriguing. We need to think about it."

No we don't. We need to do nothing of the sort. You were asking me about your parents and suddenly I-mind/what matters waylaid you.

"True... but it is so interesting trying to puzzle out how the universe came into being..."

Hum... Instead of answering Styopa's question Wanda makes a few deep breaths followed by a series of shorter ones – and the next thing Styopa's aware of – through a kind of break in the transmission – a step transition – is Wanda sitting at around head height looking every part the Indian yogi, before the culture shock causes him to lose consciousness.

Part II

National security concerns... we can't just let the people collapse reality around us... 

unthinkable consequences... need to regulate...

The “powers that were” are having difficulty adjusting to the paradigm shift. "Why I can fly" meetup groups have sprung up all over the planet with startling speed, catching the authorities off guard. By the time they're ready to react – to try to clamp down, contain, control... it's too late. Whenever they come to a meetup venue they fail to find the participants. Some mysterious force seems to clear the hall of all the members who were there a moment before. "Still, we have their names – we'll get them to register, then we'll declare "Why I can fly" a subversive organisation – we'll say they’re working with manipulative ETs – that they've been given these abilities in exchange for selling the rest of us into slavery... that kind of thing."

But the meetup movement is spreading exponentially and Mikhail Gorbachev is powerless to save the Berlin wall, even if he'd wanted to – and he's less and less sure he does. 

In fact the "Why I can fly" movement has less to do with flying itself, more to do with confronting the frantic fear factor behind all self-imposed limitations. After all, whoever needed to fly? A bit of floaty stuff might be nice, a bit of intergalactic space travel would be fun – broadening one's horizons – visiting other civilizations – but one soon tires of travel and – home sweet home – that is where the magic lies. But what is home, and who am I?

Now you see – these are the questions that take us deeper within, beyond the superficial PR and slick marketing of g-nome portal's "Why I can fly" campaign. 

Already we have the God particle thanks to Gemma Poltruth and her 116 fractal twins, which means we're no longer bound by what matters, or by matter itself, for that matter. We have access to the programme code of creation – for we can use the God particle to reshape reality, just as long as we're acting in accordance with Is, as opposed to "what not”. Atoms rearrange themselves automatically - we can grow a new house in a matter of hours, a few days tops, without needing to hammer or saw. We're so busy interacting with Story, the ever-unfolding song of creation, that we have no time to wonder what's coming next. The present moment always furnishes whatever is required as long as we stay in the quantum stream of Story manifesting.

Part III

We're too attached to resolutions, to outcomes. When all is said and done there is no Reality as such, no matter, no thing in particular ENB [either-neither-both]. There is that which is – for what it's worth, an infinity of Is – a playground for you to fly and fall, to dance and delapidate, to stroll and stumble – howsoever you should choose. 

In the meantime, Story requests that I return to thread – to the perceived war between the Government, the powers that were and the people. 

Forget it – it was always game-over just as soon as we chose to withdraw our consent. No sooner had we done so at a quantum level than value had to be exchanged instantaneously. Instead of "being able to get away with it" – violating rights and oppressing, the "violators" or "oppressors", who were in fact just players in the drama, have to exchange value to balance the isness immediately, and 0=1 they find themselves preferring to do anything rather than continue violating or oppressing. Having bits of your eternal essence being transferred to your victim's cosmic bank account rather takes the fun out of being "evil" – wouldn't you agree. So, in a matter of days we are back on the level playing field of Is – the isness of Be. And what this means, and what it entails – there's no saying – only the pudding's proof – so instead of feeling guilty about withdrawing your consent from project "dark and dastardly offering a glimmer of hope and pretending things might miraculously sort themselves out at the 11^th hour and 59^th minute when in fact it's designed to fail"; instead of believing you have to be the victim, or else reality will die, God forbid, or collapse into a pile of steaming doo doo, know that consciousness trumps matter in the game of life. The matrix may collapse, the whole of matter may revert back to its indeterminate wave function, but that does not alter the fact of...

"Of what? Don't just leave me suspended like that?"

Whyever not?

"Because I need to know what's going to happen. I need to know what to do. I need to know..."

Story knows. 

"No it doesn't. Story's something fictitious. Something we simply write to pass the time, for our amusement."

So it seems, so it seems. But without Story we're nothing... Without stoy 0=1 cancels out and you...

"I what?"

Don't you see?

"Not if you keep hanging up like that, cutting out, dot dot dotting."

But that's precisely it – when I go beyond Story – nothing Is. Terra incognito. The unknowable."

"So you mean there's a place where even Story can't go? And I thought Story was everything to you."

No, Story is no more "everything" than "God" or anything else for that matter, but it's the master weaver that, like Rumpelstiltskin can spin golden thread from straw, and that, is more than enough for our purposes. Dot dot dot...

"And you propose we can fly in Story?"

That only Story with wings unclipped can give us the kind of reality, the kind of life experience where we can enjoy the beauty, the magic of flight – of rising above our fear and limitations – whatever they might have been – once we're ready to trust it – to dance to its syncopated rhythm, to dive into its quantum stream of pure unadulterated consciousness with a capital C.

Styopa looks intently into the palm of his hand – and something comes alight – a star is born in the firmament of his Mind... atoms near and far stir, tingling with expectation, sensing their long awaited master has returned.

"So be it Wanda. I consent."