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
