Letters to myself, a student of the Law of One
For a while I have attempted to write another post, but the words fail me. My journey has taken me to a place in my seeking that is not entirely easy to convey. Let me start by saying that my only true intention in all of this from the very beginning was to get as close to the truth as possible, no matter the outcome. Spirituality hasn’t been the only way I have attempted to do this. I have spent some time trying to understand quantum physics, particle physics and astrophysics, and while very interesting (could antimatter be matter moving backwards in time?), it leaves you with more questions than answers, like all good scientific attempts at understanding the mystery.
Things haven’t always turned out for the good, as I have been faced multiple times with the question of the purpose of my seeking. What does my curiosity seek to serve? More times than I would like to admit, the conclusion I had come to pointed to an indulgent self-focus, whether it was to alleviate boredom or to assuage a deep existential fear … besides, who is it really helping to know ever more astutely that I simply don’t know anything about the nature of existence? The truth - I cannot guarantee any authority; I cannot authenticate any source of metaphysical information here on earth. Sure, I’ve had some personal “experiences” to draw upon, but they come encrypted, clouded in mystery and the possibility of deception is unmistakeable.
Aren’t we all just trying to find a point of reference in this world in which to measure ourselves? And yet there appears to be an infinite number of points of reference in which to choose from … and isn’t that the point/joke? My mind has always craved and savoured concepts, investing quite a lot of time in “speculative” analysis, but now she, having matured from childish arrogance, never fails to whisper back after each conclusion, “well maybe, or maybe not, it could be this, or that, or both, or nothing at all”. And I can’t disagree - definitely when we ponder on the mystery, anything is possible. My ability to lie to myself is quickly diminishing.
Yet with every lamentation of my human condition, with every step forward, I am crushed upon with the weight of holding both the intense desire to know with the awareness of just how totally impossible it is. But it is this pressure that causes my outward gaze to move ever more inwardly. It is this pressure that forces me to give up trying to understand, replacing analysis with observation, observation with as refined a focus and intensity that a desperate person can muster.
And so, the words sometimes just aren’t there to put to paper. My world is slowly turning into singular moments and essences. I have since collected along the way many distillations of time, complex patterns registering like multi-dimensional emotions, but so much more and so very varied with sometimes quick glimpses of what I can only recognise as paradise. A few times I’ve had to remind myself to take a breath. These things collecting into a deep reservoir of built up potential energy, and I wonder if I will ever get the chance to light up the night sky.
There are people I miss that I don’t know and I’ve never met. There are manifestations I crave that aren’t possible. Yet I am deeply grateful for my life, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. But who knows? Maybe someone out there is approaching the speed of light.
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Two nights in a row I have battled with my dreams. The same figures of my past, the same distortions, the same bad feelings of alienation and isolation replaying over and over again. I had reached the limit of my patience and out of pure frustration I became lucid. (I realise now a little more the efficacy of third density veiling. Constantly banging one's head up against the ever present chasm which separates us ... some would say it's enough to wake someone up.)
I grabbed the person in-front of me and shook her violently. I yelled at her “this is my dream, my mind, my rules”. She resisted, we battled wills, and I won. The fury of battle I knew too well - a vestige of having raised and been greeted by the shadow prematurely. The figures in my dream started co-operating, appeasing me as though they now recognised they were in my territory. Oops, did I just lose some positive polarity?
The landscape starting splitting, morphing into something off-planet. The figures in my dream, now anxious, asked me what was going on. I replied that the cognitive dissonance I had created in my mind was causing the backdrop to shatter. The dream would soon come apart, just as I had come apart with internal warring.
When I think of these distortions, I am reminded of my first LSD trip, during which I held and looked upon my beloved pet. So much love I had for this creature that I had the incredible realisation that the whole universe was created just for them. All atoms, electrons, quarks organised themselves in such and such a way as to allow this little creature the opportunity of experience, to be wrapped up in my lap right here and now, to love and be loved. I then redirected my focus to the person next to me and realised this was the same for them as well.
How can this be,
the paradox of unity.
Feelings of being connected to the place which you occupy, feelings that the Creator lovingly placed you exactly where you are for exact purposes, is something I'm only starting to integrate. In this life sometimes we wait for permission to have feelings of belonging, but these feelings aren't generated by others, they exist within us, just waiting to be triggered. Why wait for them to be triggered by eternal forces, why not find complete unity within the self?
Besides, who wants to 'belong' to any one place when there is so much more growth to be had, so many more manifestations to be explored? Extreme alienation experienced throughout my life-time is so crucially part of me. I would rather be sane and alone than crazy and surrounded, and of course it's given me a lot of time to think...
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Today I write my first post. I write in here today in order to further understand and to maybe be understood, and to of course one day look back upon what I have written and cringe, for isn't that what growing up is all about?
I thought I would start of with some thoughts on the quote that I am just feeling right now, and that is - Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. And between the two my life flows. - Nisargadatta Maharaj
Sometimes I wonder if there actually is anybody out there. In as much as my true-self is a no-thing, as awareness is formless, then yes, it is evidently so that there is only me here and you, or what I know as you, is a projection in the universe that is my mind. The projection being the sum total of my ability to apply pattern recognition to your behaviours. Imagined projections in one's mind are the only 'things' that anyone ever reacts to. Prove to me otherwise.
I can make you out to be whoever I like, but I promise I'll invent a favourable character of you … just don't disappoint me. And I'm sure you also have a vivid universe going on inside your head. I wish I could visit, but that's the thing about universes, the definition itself implies that it is a self-contained singularity. I cannot exist in yours as much as you cannot exist in mine.
But as I look within, the gaze just keeps going, there is no end to its expansion, or should I say implosion. And I find as my truth, that love is not only expressed, but that I am the very essence of love itself. Childhood memories littered throughout timelines, a common thread discovered, all catalyst was found to be acted upon love.
In as much as I am love itself, is to the extent that I am absolutely everything for she is everywhere, resonating with everything. The flutter of linen in the wind, the thrust of a fist from the boxer in the ring, even the tremor in your forced smile. That one happened so quick, you thought I missed it. And so it is only us here, us in all our potential forms, displays of passion, all from the same beating heart.
Maybe I can come to know you beyond pattern-recognition, come to see you as me. Love that is sometimes hurt, scared, confused – well, always confused. Love that cowers in the face of it's own brilliance. Infinity ... all possibility, anything that could ever be conceived, dreamt, spewed forth… its all her. And I can know, deep at the core, that as you cower in the face of your own potential, that you will learn to rise to the occasion. And that is what you're doing; every step forward, every supposed set-back, every eon that passes by is the medicine that is sorely needed for you to one day maybe open the eye which has been shut tight, maybe you'll get up off the floor, maybe you'll even turn to face the reality which greets you back.
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