The Divine Reality; Transcendent and
Imminent.
R.W.Richardson,
West Somerset. UK.
Part One
It was approximately 6.45 p.m. when a friend
called me on the telephone to enquire if I would like to go over to his place
for a few games of chess. I explained to him that I was baby sitting as my wife
had just gone out for the evening with friends and would not be back until
quite late. I was just on the verge of inviting him over to my place when,
without thinking, I said that I would give it a miss tonight and simply have a
bath and an early night. I did not know why I had said that, for I do not usually
talk without thinking as to what I am going to say. I did quite fancy the idea
of a few games of chess and rarely ever turned down the opportunity.
Nevertheless, having said it I let it ride.
The two youngsters were tucked up for the
night and the paraphernalia of childhood joy was tidied up as I sat down at
about 7 p.m. I had just placed a couple of large logs on the fire and put a
record on the machine at random with the intent of a few minutes peace and
quiet before going up for a bath. If I had known in advance as to what was
going to transpire over the course of the next three hours I would have
employed a baby sitter and a witness as to my own physical condition for the
duration of that period of time.
Thus it was that at approximately 7 p.m. on a
late winter/early spring evening I, a mere ignoramus of twenty four years of
age, sat down for a few minutes to read the paper and listen to a record prior
to having a bath and an early night. Just as I sat down in the chair in front
of the fire our old cat jumped up on to my lap. It took me by surprise for I
had not seen it coming and thus the thought of leaning over for the newspaper
went right out of my mind. I made a fuss of the cat as it rolled over into the
well of my lap with its legs pointing skyward. As I stroked its belly it gave
out a purr that was almost as loud as a car engine revving, and fit to rock the
chair we were sitting in. I smiled and wondered how they did it, and why. I
continued to make a fuss of the cat without any further thought of reading the
paper. In so doing I suddenly became aware of the record which I had put on
simply for background music.
It turned out to be the last part of the
Enigma Variations which was to be followed later by the Fantasia on a theme of
Thomas Tallis by Vaughan Williams (how ironic are those two titles; fantasia
and enigma indeed). At that time neither of those pieces were favourites of
mine, it just happened to be the record I pulled out. The music began to sound
like nothing I had ever heard before or since. It was as though the music was
trying to make me aware of IT. It permeated my consciousness in ways that words
cannot describe. I had a fleeting thought; one of those unsolicited ‘pop in’
thoughts which said “sod the paper, listen to the music old son”; and I
thought, “Yeah... this is good”! In today’s language I suppose we would say
that the music was reaching parts that no other Largo could get to. I had
always loved music, music of all kinds, for it all had its time, place, and
mood; but this was more than mere music, more than mere sound. I relaxed
back into the rocking chair with the cat still purring away like a traction
engine on my lap, although the sound was becoming drowned into the distance by
the beauty of the music, when suddenly, something very strange occurred; and
the beginning of I knew not what.
Instead of relaxing it was as though my
concentration was becoming focused, so sharp; like a narrow beam of pointed
conscious awareness focusing and concentrating like I had never done before;
even in the midst of chess problems during a good game, and that alone is
concentration enough, but this was more so. The music had reached a degree of
profound beauty which I had never known or thought could have existed. In so
attaining I somehow relaxed into it, a kind of letting go of objective
observation. I gave a kind of unusual sigh and an outward exhalation of breath
like a long AHH; and just as I did so—everything vanished,
instantaneously, just like creation being switched off by the throw of a
switch. There was no room, no cat, no sound of the fire burning or the clock
ticking; no cats purring, no chair, no body, no weight, no mass, no heat or
cold, no gravity, no up or down or this way or that way; there was just total
blackness and the sound of the music which was passing through my consciousness
in waves. This is not a poetic description of my listening to the music, it is
literal.
At the very instant of ‘going’ it was
as though my ears had been turned inside out; for at one instant the music was
objective, on the outside, and the next instant it was taking place ‘all
around’, for there was no inside and outside as such. Nevertheless it was as
though the music was passing through the point (which I was) like waves on a
pond and each wave was of greater emotional charge than the one before it; as
though each wave was preparing me for the next wave, and building up into...
into I did not know what. In some respects it was like being kidnapped by
divine music, perfection; the only thing that existed in creation was myself
and the music.
It was as though the ‘AHH’ was still
going on but going on in the vastness of the space of the mind alone. It became
a reality in which there was no dualistic reference between myself and music,
but as though there was only ‘I AM the music’ in a dance, a swoon, of
excitement, awe, and wonder. After an immeasurable duration of time that piece
of music ended, and there was a stillness and quiet as cannot be described. I
did not question (at that point) that I had no body or existence other than
awareness of being. Neither would I have had the time to think of such things
for the next piece of music began. To say that the next piece of music began is
the understatement of all time. It did not begin, it flowed. It flowed out of
nothingness, like... like I know not what.
Within a few seconds of the music emanating
into my consciousness there came the most frightening experience I have ever
known in my life, before or since. The passion and beauty of the sounds were
such that my mind went... bang! I blew up, fell apart, exploded, or so it
seemed. As I did so I could see, I had vision, I was no longer in total
blackness listening to the music for I could see myself exploding and
expanding. It seemed to be like the big bang itself. I could still hear the
music, and it was just as well that I could for my mind clung to the sound to
try and quell the fear and panic which was taking place. I could see what can
only be described as streaked out dots of light which I was expanding into and
flying through like a supernova. It was like I did not even have time to be
frightened, even though I was. I was somehow trying to turn the eyes which I
had away from the rushing lights and the vision of this expansion and
concentrate upon the music. But those eyes (heaven only knows as to with what
one could see—but see one could) were eyes that we cannot open or close by our
own volition; one could not switch the vision or the experience off. Just as I
thought I was going to expand into infinity and fade away into nothingness the
expansion stopped. My mind gradually stopped expanding and I metaphorically
gave a sigh of relief; but there was no breath or lungs with which to do it. At
that point it was as if I were in a kind of unbounded dome of blackness, and I
consisted of nothing except a point of consciousness with no boundary or
duration, no form; just consciousness. I could see what appeared to be tiny
points of light coming into and out of existence all over the space which I
existed within. Much like the vision one would get with ones eyes nearly closed
while seeing sunlight spots dancing on the surface of a fast flowing river. It
was like creation ‘stuff’ coming and going all the time. Throughout all
this I could still hear the music. Then, the next shock to my system, if a
system I had. The dots of light that seemed to be coming into and out of
existence as far as one could see suddenly turned into the music which I could
hear, and I could not only hear the music but now also see it.
There are no words to describe such music
made of light. It is a vision which unlike other vision cannot be recreated by
imagination within the mind from hindsight; it can only be seen and known at
the time of the event. I saw the music flowing toward me. It was in colours
such that we know and some that we do not know. The essential quality of the
light was equal to that of the sound of the music. The light itself and the
colours were not different things as we tend to know coloured light by
reflections or as sources of light emanating from a certain point. The music
was the light, the colour was the light. It did not flow from anything except
uncreated into created. The fear that I had experienced throughout the
expansion or whatever it was had now gone and there was nothing but I and the
music which I was now within: I became the music; there was not an I and an it.
As this event continued I became aware that I ‘KNEW’ the music. That is to say
that I knew it backwards, forwards, inside out, one note at a time or all at
once; and I could see it anyway I wanted to see it. I could become the melody,
which I did; I could become the harmony, which I did. I could be one note or
the whole piece of the music. Reality is stranger than fiction; and a damn
sight better.
Whilst this divine dance of music in unison
was going on I become aware that I was of two natures somehow enshrined in one.
There came a point whilst I was swimming in this light and music when I became
aware that I was looking at myself objectively, and it did not seem strange at
the time. ‘Myself’ did not consist of a body but only of light, but I
knew it was me, and I thought, “The little one is having the time of his life”,
(which indeed he was), but the other me, or the me of the personality, did not
know this was going on; only the other bit knew that. Likewise were all these
things not being thought about as we do out here in the world of temporal
forms, but somehow they were just known, and seen, and felt, and enjoyed. (Many
years later I came to call this level of visions by the name of ARKON IMAGE
EMANATIONS.) I became aware at that point that there were two aspects of
myself. One which I refer to as the person and one which I refer to as the
personality; the latter of which is an extension and emanation of the former
and thus a perceived duality, albeit a oneness in the structure of an
inter-dimensional vortex of self existence. I cannot refer to two ‘I’s thus I
will use the terms person and personality for simplicity. It is not so much a
case of two aspects of consciousness but more the case of what part of the
vortex of emanation the consciousness is existing within at that instant. One
cannot observe from both points of reference at the same instant however, it is
either one or the other. And it even gets far more complex. But let us proceed
in the order of the unfolding events.
At this point, and even though one was aware
of what was going on at the time, one was not ‘bothered about it’ so to speak,
for I was only really concerned about the love of the reality itself, the
music, the sound, the vision, the event itself, for it was indeed a divine
dance of the spheres. It was passion
and reality unimaginable; creation par excellence, by magic. The shift from one point of consciousness to
the other is not an act of wilful intent on my (the personalities) part; it
simply occurred as far as I was aware.
As to how long this music and light experience lasted is impossible to
say, for although it was a temporal process it was a kind of temporality other
than is known in ‘normal’ or everyday awareness in temporal forms. Likewise the visions and objects of vision
(the Arkons) were not thought of as extant things existing in their own right
such as a tree or a mountain, for it was known and understood to be being
created at the time and only for its duration and effect.
There came a point however when things
changed. I suddenly had an entirely different vision. It was just at the point
when I knew the music was going away, ending. My perspective of vision was such
that I could see a being, a young boy of about twelve years of age if
appearances were anything to go by. He was illuminated in a brilliance of light
and colour, as the music had been, and existing in otherwise total darkness,
but lighting that darkness up around him like an aura. He was sitting on his
bum (with nothing underneath him) with one arm wrapped around his knees which
were folded up to his chin, and waving goodbye to the music with the other
hand. It was not a vision of any boy or person I had ever seen or known but I
knew that I had to take the vision as myself, yet not the self of the
personality which I knew to be me. Indeed it was the old me which was doing the
observing and learning. Such archetypal visions are a kind of learning without
any words, and which are not reasoned or rationalised and yet they are
understood implicitly and without thinking about them; the experience is the
thing itself and the knowledge and understanding is implicit and axiomatic;
thus it is a dialogue without dialogue, and synetic in its nature. Hence,
archetypal ‘Synetic Dialogue’.
I could see the boy waving goodbye to the
music and I could see the music fading away into a distance and into
nothingness; being uncreated just as easily as it had been created. I also
implicitly knew as to what was going on inside him and as to how he felt. He
did not want anything; he did not fear the music leaving him, for he loved
it—and that was sufficient. I cannot find the words to describe the passion and
feelings which that child knew and felt; but he was perfect; and an act which I
knew that I could not follow. As the music went further away the sound of it
also diminished. It eventually faded away into nothingness and the boy was
alone in his own radiance in otherwise total blackness and nothingness. Then
the vision disappeared, and there was nothing. I was alone with my boring old
self, and once again able to think and rationalise in the usual manner and
seemingly in the usual time span of thinking. Yet I was alone in a darkness in
which I had no form other than conscious awareness. I realised that any
perception or illusion of ‘otherness’, or another part of myself, was
gone and I was alone with my normal personality of the outside world. Yet the
world was gone, everything was gone except my self consciousness and its
memories. What on earth, (or elsewhere), is going on; how and why? From
hindsight one would assume that in such a situation one would be terrified, for
it was like being buried alive (a good analogy); however, the thought of the
music which had preceded this situation must have taken the fear away, even
though I felt a feeling of great apprehension and a degree of worry. Is one
going to be stranded here for all time maybe? Is this death? Or am I still sitting
in the chair with my mind having slipped out of joint somehow? Have I gone
insane? The thoughts that pass though ones mind are at times uncontrollable,
and in this situation one does not know what to think. Surely if I just sit
quiet (as if I could do anything other) and hang about something will happen;
something must happen; I can’t just hang about here for ever; wherever ‘here’
is. Perhaps someone will come into the room soon and realise that my mind has
got stuck inside and cart me off to a place to get it out again.
It was however, the first chance I had to
think about what the hell was going on; one minute I am sitting in the chair
minding my own business and the next minute... zap, and the world has
disappeared, or I from it—which is it? I knew for sure that I wanted out from
whatever I was in but there was nothing I could do about it at all; for I had
no control of anything. Just at that point however, and before I had the chance
to get really fed up, something did happen. I was just thinking how nice it
would be to go into the kitchen and get a beer or a cup of coffee when
something came. I could not see what it was for it was still total darkness but
I could somehow feel the presence of something I knew not what... Then I heard
a voice! To say that one heard a voice is not true in the sense that one
normally hears a voice in objective terms across a distance, but it was indeed
very much like it and also sounded within my mind or consciousness somehow. As
though the point of origin was somehow objective yet from a location from
deeper down within myself somehow. Thus objective inwards not outwards, from ‘below’
as opposed to ‘around’ me.
Something said, or gave me the understanding by way of perceiving a
voice...
“Do you want to go on”?
I cannot describe how I felt about that.
Nothing would actually shock me (I think) after what had transpired since the
world had disappeared. Yet this ‘request’ was experienced as totally objective;
it was not me that was asking the question; it was something else. I was too
stunned to even think about the meaning of the question yet alone as to where
it came from; for something, even an odd sounding voice, was better than
nothing at all, if indeed it was a voice.
Without thinking I inwardly yelled out (for
the lack of putting it into other words, and more in panic); “Go on what”? “Go
on further”, came the reply or understanding. I was amazed at the logic and
reasoning, but I wanted nothing else other than normality to be re-established.
I was just about to reply (for if you can’t beat it join it), “No thanks; I
have had a wonderful time thank you very much, but I think it’s about time that
I was getting back to normality right now if its all the same to you”. (You
might as well go out laughing I thought). As I was about to respond however, I
was suddenly washed, bathed, drowned in a passion, a love, a swoon of ecstasy;
in which I responded in a way which was a kind of choice which was no choice;
an offer one cannot refuse. (And not the kind of bath I had intended). I
replied to whatever, or wherever, the question emanated from... “OK, let’s do
it, lets go on further”! I did not even know what the question meant yet alone
as to from whence it came.
The next thing I was aware of was that the
profound overwhelming emotion had gone and I was then alone again—but something
was different—stone me, my mind is BENT... out of shape, distorting! I was now
experiencing not ‘nothing’ but decidedly being inside of something—inside my
own mind which was being squeezed out of shape. Why is my mind not round? The
things one thinks at such time. It was as if I could see the edges of my own
mind in a fuzzy darkness, with my consciousness being like a point at its
centre. My mind was being squeezed out of shape, or so it seemed. It was
narrower at one point than at the other; a bit like a pear. I underwent an
experience of being squeezed and I did not like it one bit. I became very
anxious; or near on panic is more like it. I had a distinct urge to try and
punch a hole in my collapsing mind in order that I could get out, escape,
before being squashed along with it. I yelled out.... “Oy, there’s some sod out
there pulling my mind around and I cannot stop it”. I felt real panic coming on
fast. The restricting became worse. “If you don’t pack it in I am going to be
squashed inside it... sod off”! I was
about to hurl other choice obscenities when all of a sudden I heard the voice
again....
“Relax, take it smoothly”!
I was just about to reply “bugger off” when I
suddenly started moving. “Relax, he says... stone me... I’m moving... the whole
bloody shebang is sliding away and with me inside it”! “Good grief almighty
what the hell is happening”! “Relax, everything is as it should be, keep calm
and relax”! “Relax, he says, who’s driving this thing anyway... how do I know
its passed its bloody driving test? And where is it going anyway... go on tell
me that”? “Keep quiet, shut up and relax”! With that command, or suggestion, I
was stunned to the core;... “Oh yes, relax... OK, I’ll relax”! Bloody liar I
thought to myself, who the hell could relax in a situation like this... this is
too ridiculous for words or thought... yet alone happening! The moving began to
judder; we were up against something of a resistance (me I guess)... “Relax”!
“I am relaxing”! (Why can’t I be unconscious or dead or something!) I tried
hard to think on good things as one does in the dentist chair while under
diabolical pain; although there was no pain here, only fear. Make out nothing’s
happening I thought to myself. The juddering felt like whatever was clogging
the works was fighting a losing battle in some inevitable way. There was a huge
tug—then a release. I zoomed off like a bullet from a gun; into, or out of what
I knew not.
*
* *
Isolation in Limbo
It was as though I had been ejected from a
container of some kind and at high velocity: but I was now in a form of unseen
space, a space which was so dark that it was almost a void of creation, but I
was aware of a space of some kind in which I existed, and all about me. There
was a long stunned silence of thought in an instantaneous recognition of the
obvious. “Bugger me, why did I not realise it ages ago—I am dead—you're kicking
the bucket old son”! Not expecting any
answer I shouted out—“I am dead ain’t I”! A ‘voice’ or communication
answered, much to my amazement. “Well, if you were dead then you would not know
it would you; just think lad, how could you think that you were dead if you
were dead”.
This was in some ways the most relaxing
comment that had come to me since the music episode had ended and thus in some
way relieved the panic which otherwise would have ensued. I inwardly answered,
“That is indeed hard to argue with, but from what I have seen thus far nothing
would surprise me”! There was no answer to that but I distinctly felt the
knowledge of something smiling. The sensation was now of existing in a literal
space of some kind and yet very different to the confines of what I had taken
to be my own collapsing mind and the things which had transpired within it: for
now my mind was definitely perceived to be in a space, and free. I suddenly
felt totally alone again, or so it was experienced to be. For whatever it was,
the other degree of myself or otherness which seemed to have asked the
questions was now gone again. I was alone. I guess I must have been fooling
myself for it is obvious that I am dead, or at least on the way to it, for what
the hell would I be doing here otherwise? For a moment I wondered as to whether
I was dreaming; perhaps I fell asleep in the chair and this is all a dream and
I will wake up in a few moments. But I knew that it was no dream for it was as
real as life, too real; albeit so different. I could still see; for that I
knew, but there was nothing to see; there was no creation other than myself, my
mind in nothing, Limbo. It was indeed a state of isolation, of existing in
nothing created. It was not as though one were simply in a dark place as such,
for it was experienced that there was no ‘place’ to be dark.
It was like being stranded, left alone in
nothing; separated or beyond any form of creation; abandoned. All creation
having been switched off and having forgotten to take me with it. Not even a
finger to wobble or anything to smell or touch. I thought how much I would
loved to have seen a raindrop or felt the wind in my face. And that how I
perhaps took such things for granted maybe. ‘Well, just when you’re enjoying
yourself eh’, I thought. One could think of this in terms of either a Limbo
experience or Mind Alone, for the effect and the experience are
the same thing. Naturally I began to feel apprehensive, for one could not do
anything. One could not shake oneself out of it for there was nothing to shake.
I began pondering on life for I had accepted that this was the end of it, or
the journey to the end of it. Strangely enough I did not seem as bothered about
it as I thought I should have been, and even though I had been cut short in my
prime, and at a time when I was enjoying life to the full. Well, I guess I am
going to fade out any minute now and there is not much I can do about that now,
so why worry about it! But if ever anybody or anything asks me if I want to ‘go
on’ again then I shall certainly ascertain as to what they mean before
committing myself.
After a while something switched on what I
instantly thought was a star, a tiny little pinprick of light way off in the
distance. I suddenly wondered as to why I thought that this star was objective
to me, for nothing else which I had seen could really have been said to be
objective in the literal sense; but this star felt to be absolutely objective.
I was over here and that thing was over there, and thus real in objective
terms.
I then questioned as to where all the other
stars had gone but realised, or perhaps better to say suddenly remembered, that
this was not outer space, but an unknown inner, or sub-space somewhere; and
heaven only knows where. But if this is supposed to be heaven or afterlife then
it is no great shakes; and give me Exmoor any day. Well, star or not it is
damned obvious that I am not going to find my own way home from this place. And
even if one knew the way back how the hell would one move in that direction? I
give up! I began to wonder if my existence was now solely due to my thinking
process perhaps. That is to say that I have no body or substance observable
therefore perhaps if I stop thinking then I will cease to exist. That’s novel I
thought, a bit like Hobson’s choice. By the same token however, if I were to
keep thinking then perhaps I could hang about here for forever. But my thoughts
do not thrill me to that extent so I did not fancy the idea of that. So perhaps
if I stop thinking then I will cease to exist. So I stopped thinking. Nothing
happened. I was still there; in nothing and nowhere. Well, that’s it then, so
much for that experiment!
It occurred to me that perhaps the Christians
may be right after all and that this distant light was perhaps Dante’s Inferno;
Wow! Happy days! I didn’t think that I had been that bad however, and not that
I believed such stuff anyway; but there you go eh! Movement seemed to slowly
begin. Either toward the tiny little light or else it was itself moving toward
me; but no, I felt actual movement somehow. Although I was not really thinking
about it I somehow began to question, or at least begin to think, about my past
life. If this light which is coming toward me (or me it) is death, then I
really do have little time to think about life. What about it? Well, it was OK
I guess, I seemed to enjoy most of it despite the pains and the poverty, the
war and frustration. What did I amount to? Sod all really! Was it fun?
Fun!? I did not know it was meant to be fun;
did I ask myself that question? What the devil is going on! Was it fun? Well,
some of it was, but not all of it, I thought to myself. Would you do it again?
Not the same one over again I don’t think, a different one maybe. Different in
what way? Well, a little less frustration and pain, a little more passion and
shared enjoyment. A more meaningful existence somehow maybe. What is enjoyment?
Well, you know, enjoyment! No, you tell me what enjoyment is. Well, enjoyment
is to love what you are doing, to do what you love doing, and to share that
thing and that love with another person I guess. It is also the joy of taking
part, the act of being a part of instigating and spreading that enjoyment of
being; a harmony of body and mind in the excitement of experience with others,
and also at times on ones own with nature. That, I guess, is what enjoyment is
for me anyway. At that point I felt that I would love to see a tree or a green
field; a blade of grass or a drop of rain, or at least to feel a breeze of
fresh air. For they were all now lost and gone. It occurred to me that I had
not done any breathing for a long time; and nothing to breath with.
Would you want to go on living now given the
choice? Now that I have come this far I am not sure. It would have to have some
meaning to it, some purpose other than mere pleasurable moments and sad moments
which amount to nothing really. It would have to have something which is seen,
known, to have some meaning to the suffering and pain which is the greater
portion of life on earth it would seem. It would have to be worth the effort of
the struggle involved.
Would I really want to live again now? I am
not sure now; but what I think does not really matter now anyway; so I do not
want to think any more; sod the lot of it. However, life was certainly better
than being here and that’s for sure; and wherever ‘here’ is—the dungeons
of my mind it seems. But whatever now then? In life I had the option of
committing suicide if I had wanted or needed to; but I cannot even do that
there-here. I wonder where those poor sods went anyway. Perhaps such an act is
simply a short cut to where I am now, or where I am headed for... that light is
getting bigger, quite close.... Good grief! What the hell... are they doing
here?!
I suddenly became aware that I was drifting
past other beings somehow; hundreds of the buggers. I could not see them as
such but I somehow knew they were there, and I could indeed almost see them, a
kind of misty outline of some kind. I could somehow feel their presence. I
became aware that I was somehow passing people; or beings of some kind anyway. What
the hell are they doing here in my mind, or my minds tomb or whatever or
wherever? It was as if I was drifting through their dimension and yet somehow I
could feel their presence and somehow ‘know’ them: an empathy of some kind.
These people, whatever they were, were so good. I do not know how I knew that,
but I just knew it, and I wanted to be with them above all else. If I were on a
bus then I would jump off at this stop, but I can’t do sod all: I want to be
with THEM!
I wanted to wave at them to attract their
attention but I had nothing to wave; yet somehow I understood something; a bit
like a conversation by telepathy I thought. I could feel them and know them,
and understand them somehow. Stone me!—they said I cannot be with them... not
now! Why not; I want to be with them, they are far nicer than many of the
people I came across in life. They are different somehow; strangely different.
Then, without more ado or a by your leave, I suddenly shot off like an
intergalactic bullet, at terrific velocity and away from their dimension of
existence, or their imagined existence whatever. And the light which had been a
mere pin prick of light, the little star, was now much closer and larger. That
is no star, I thought; more like a hole with light shining through it, or
somehow rather drifting out of it. It was now almost upon me, or me upon it
whichever. I seemed to be in some kind of free fall, a decent or diminishing
orbit about it; spiralling toward it. It was almost as though I could feel my
own movement now and almost a sense of rushing air passing me. Hey, this is
quite fun, a good feeling. But I do not think it is going to last long somehow!
I was no longer questioning as to whether this light was real but rather as to
what it indeed was, for I was heading for it and fast. It is not a star, it
looks more like a hole with light coming out of it from behind. Well, it would
seem that it is perhaps the death star after all; happy days! Now is the time
for all good men to come to the aid of Richard: some hope!
Well, what is going to be is now going to be,
so sod the lot of it: for there is nothing I can do about it now. But I could
go out singing I guess—more dignified than whining. What shall I sing then; it
will have to be a short song: Arrivederci Roma? Auld Lang Syne? No, I think I
fancy a bit of Bach.... that is certainly a hole... it IS a hole... with light
shining through it somehow; what a beautiful light it is to be sure...
radiant.... strange... this is IT, I am going into it.... stone the bloody
Crows I am falling into it.... Wow!
*
* *
Circumincession of the Trinity of Being.
What happened next is impossible... I think!
How then do we describe the impossible? An event occurred; one event, but it
was experienced twice, and from two different perspectives or points of
reference, and thus appearing as two events from hindsight. Yet they could not
be remembered during the sequence. They could not be remembered for an infinite
duration of time; not until this whole series of events was over and behind me.
This event was in a dimension of a trinity of some kind; a trimorphic reality
of self in some way. However, observation is always dualistic, the observer and
the observed it seems; but it can take place from three different points of
reference in sequence. Is it any wonder that we question our sanity for a
while.
I will have to describe the following
sequence of events just as though it was experienced at the time and in the
sequence in which the events took place. However, at the time, the first
sequence could not be remembered during the course of the second sequence and
thus it was experienced (at the time) as if I only went into the white light
once. But from hindsight it was experienced as going into it twice—even though
knowing it was only once. The alternative is that two parts of me went through
two different holes at the same time. Confusing is not the word! Who would ask
for any of this?
I did not experience actually entering the
white light. One instant I was about to enter it and the next instant I was
inside or beyond it. If it were possible to have blinked ones eyes then I would
have assumed that I had blinked and hence missed it. But I know well enough
that you cannot open or close those eyes. Moreover, I had no knowledge of ever
entering the white light; there was nothing before this event for that part of
me in this field. I saw the figure of a human form. It was tall, elegant, old;
and standing on top of high precipice, like a cliff edge. I (this part of me)
was in a location just to its left and a little way behind it. But I had no
form as did it. I could see the left hand side of its face and form and way off
into a strange kind of distance to the front and all around it.
I must have had two eyes for the reality was
three dimensional. The space all around was like an eerie white mist and yet
somehow without being misty; for vision was crystal clear. I could see over the
edge of the precipice where this figure was standing right near the edge of a
high drop. However, I myself, the observer, had no form, and this figure, or
symbolic emanation of a figure, seemed as though it were not aware of me
watching it, whatever it was. Moreover I had no remembrance of ever arriving
here or of anything that had happened before. I did not have a clue what I was,
or what I was looking at, or what either of us were doing here: wherever ‘here’
was. But it was calm, serene, peaceful, poignant, somehow meaningful, but eerie
nevertheless; strange; mysterious.
I had no thoughts going through me, no
feeling, no questioning; no power to think or reason (as one can from hindsight
obviously), but just simply watching, and taking it in: and not by choice. I,
or this part of me, was just an observer (as far as I know anyway). If one was
being precise then that part of myself could be said, from hindsight, to have been
like a spare member at a wedding or union (Mutual Convergence). And in the true
and deepest sense of that meaning: a mere observer—in order to KNOW!
The figure was looking down in toward the
whiteness which was a kind of enclosed but huge dome of whiteness. There was
only the restriction of whiteness which created the perception of an enclosure
or dome of some kind. But whilst I was observing all this a small dark aperture
in an otherwise total whiteness just opened up, like the lens of a camera shutter
(the round type). The whiteness was not a blinding whiteness but simply an
absolute pure and soft radiant whiteness: but kind of misty. And yet the
aperture which opened up like a hole in a wall was absolutely round in form and
clear cut defined. But it was tiny; a small hole. A small dark opening in a ‘non
wall’ of the mysterious white light; and me with no form, and this form
of a figure about three foot in front of me and to my right, just standing
there watching this hole appear. Then all of a sudden a small ball of gold
glowing light popped in through the hole; and as it did so the aperture closed
up like magic behind it... like a self-closing door.
As the being looked down (it sounds like a fairy story but
it is the literal truth of the events so help me the god of truth), this small
gold ball of light came through the dark aperture into the white light, and
there it just kind of hovered, remained stationary, with this figure watching
it and me watching all of it. As I said, as the small gold glowing object
entered into the white dome then the aperture through which it had come, the
small black hole in the white, simply closed up and became nonexistent behind
it; and the light (gold ball) just sat there stationary; a gold ball of light
surrounded by a pure white light. And
all was still... for ages it seemed.
It was eerie, so quiet, yet so profound.
There was not a sound or any further movement. All was utter stillness and
quiet. Somehow it seemed as if the figure may have been an extension of myself
with me having some kind of out of the body experience in some strange way; for
I knew what was going on in its thinking; I think. Yet I was observing from a
slight distance away... and objective. The small glowing object looked much
like a Ping-Pong ball and its radiance was a gold glow which stood out in
contrast to the surrounding pure and soft white light. As I watched I saw the
figure shed one tear; one solitary tear ran down its left cheek; yet it was
happy; so happy. I know not how I knew it, but know it I did. The figure was in
love with the glowing object. Had I been in a position to think, ask questions
or rationalise during that facet of the events, then I do not know what I would
have thought or reasoned, or understood; but I could not. From hindsight it is
very strange being a passive observer. From hindsight however, there are no
questions to ask regarding that event as far as I am concerned; for all was
understood—it explains itself. But to continue however. Nothing was said; there
was not a sound; everything was as stationary as the grave with the exception
of that teardrop slowly rolling down a face. No further movement took place. It
was so profound beyond words. I was not sure as to whether the figure I had
been observing was another part of me or not; indeed at this point I was not
sure of anything, for I could not think; I was simply an observer.
The vision then ended as instantly as it had
come about, and from that point I had no further memory or recollection of it
ever happening; or not for a very long time yet to come. An infinite amount of
time.
In the Second, or Parallel Entry.
As I said... this was no star, it is a hole
with light shining out of it, and I am damn well falling in to it.... I am
going into it.... Wow!
I did not actually experience going into the white light; I
must have blinked or something. One instant I was about to enter it and the
next instant I was inside of it. I was inside some kind of bubble—a bit like a
cobweb eggshell, or one of those string lamp shades that gather all the dust. I
was aware of myself inside this thing; like an embryo in an egg of some kind;
or shell. It was the first time that I could actually see anything of myself
since all this began. I was somehow sitting all cramped up like a bloody chicken
in an egg; wondering as to what was on the outside which was so bright; and as
to what the hell was going on now. But thinking did not come easy at that
point, and perhaps simply more instinctive than rational thinking. But I could
still think somehow. Beyond this ‘bubble’ which I was cooped up in was a pure
radiance of brilliant and dazzling white light. A blinding light. I could not
seem to think in the normal mode of thinking, although I could indeed still
think somehow.
I had an instinctive urge of wanting to
scratch my way out of this bubble or whatever it was, or at least see as to
what was outside of it. But there was no form to scratch at. I could not touch
anything even though I seemed to have some kind of physical form of some kind.
I think it must have been simply too bright and blinding to see properly. I
suddenly realised that the light was getting brighter and even brighter by the
second; blinding and more blinding all the time. Or perhaps more light was
getting in through the mesh of this thing somehow. I began to see something—or
more true to say ‘know’ something: but what is it... I’m not sure... No, no no
it can’t be... it is... good grief almighty... the thing outside... it is... it
is ME!
(With that thought, that event, that vision
and knowledge I was dead; gone; finished).
I saw no form of anything other than
brilliant and blinding light yet I knew that something outside was myself; it
was made obvious; axiomatic; absolute knowledge. My being, my consciousness,
started spinning, swooning somehow, spinning in a giddiness like a vortex of
water going down a bath plug hole: a vortex of self existence diminishing into
nothingness. I knew that my bubble was disintegrating in the light... and so
was I... I am going... I am being damn well annihilated, melted down,
disintegrated, burnt out, annihilated. It came to pass that everything ended;
everything had gone; and I was gone. I and the universe were no more. It was
the end of time.
*
* *
The Jewel in the crown of
Creation
Unification
and the Mystic Teaching in
the Resurrection of Consciousness
For an unknown duration after my bubble or
shell and I were annihilated there was nothing. One cannot talk about nothing,
for nothing is the total lack of experience, oblivion; like being switched off,
dead, gone, annihilated. But after a non-duration of time there was a
re-emergence or resurrection of my being, an annihilation of annihilation as
such; but the like of which could never be dreamed or imagined. No physical eye
has ever seen that place, no hand has touched it, no dreaming mind has thought
of it, and its reality has never occurred to the rational mind which exists in
temporality: other than through the memory of the Paradise event itself.
Annihilation in that mutual convergence was
something like passing through a magic gate: a gap in the universe: a hole in
creation, a gate which separates time and temporal things from the transcendent
realm of a Divine Eternity, the repose of being. Such death is not a death but
rather the ultimate in living, the ultimate in knowing, and the ultimate in
comprehension and affirmation. Likewise is it the ultimate in love, passion,
wisdom, and understanding. From hindsight one would initially ask the question
as to why the nature of things comes to contain such a rare and precious jewel
in the crown of creation which would seem to be so jealously guarded, and
beyond the moat of annihilation itself, that so few people ever come to be
shown it during the course of their life on Earth. A justified question indeed.
For everyone should know this yet while they live their lives on Earth; or so
would be my own judgement and any other human being who had come to witness
this wonder beyond all wonders. Dialogue upon the transcendent and eternal
realm is not going to be easy for the words we use apply to temporal things and
not to the eternal perception of the divine transcendent realm of perfection in
which there is knowledge only of essences of things and not the things
themselves. Moreover the vision of the place itself is not what paradise is all
about, for it is about the feeling and the knowing and understanding, not the
vision; and even though the vision itself is the vision to end all visions.
Among all other things one knows (and realises from hindsight) is that we are a
kind of jug, a vessel, a conduit, through which the life force itself flows.
Without created consciousness to act as such vessels there could be no further
creation, and no point or meaning to creation without us. We are the banks of
the river of the flow of life; and this place is where the banks of the river
of life meet the eternal river-bed. However, it is not totally impossible to
talk of such reality, only very difficult; but such experience itself solves
many mysteries and so called paradoxes. To say that self consciousness, or I,
is resurrected after annihilation is a most fitting description of the
experience, and the best definition of the event. One could also say the
annihilation of annihilation; but one cannot say as to what is happening in
absolute objective terms of reality; for you and I can never know that. With
regards to the ‘awakening’ in that realm then one cannot make an analogy of
going to sleep and then waking up in another place, for that gives the
impression of a continuity; which it is not. It is a broken continuity of self
being. Broken by the act of annihilation.
When we awake from sleep we are the same
person that went to sleep; we vaguely remember going to sleep, we remember
having been asleep, and when we awake we retain our past memories of having
existed before that sleep: and thus a continuity of being even though we
underwent an oblivion of consciousness during dreamless sleep. Neither are we
actually aware of the point of falling asleep, but we sure are aware of being
annihilated; and how. And I often wondered why. But if we did not come to know
then we would never know the connection point between time and the everlasting
eternal moment of being.
Because that place, the transcendent realm,
is judged by us (or me) to be perfection, then for simplicity I refer to it as
Paradise. There are no names however. It would be misleading to refer to it as
‘eternity’, for I always thought of eternity as the sum of all created time.
Indeed time as we know it does not even move there. Thus it is the beginning of
time; hence the womb of eternity. Moreover, nothing at all of experienced
consciousness has ever known that place and dimension by dwelling there. So it
is pristine, fresh, child like, virgin of any other experience or memory; and
hence my justification for referring to it as the Virgin Womb of Eternity.
There are no men or women there and the word virgin has no connotations of that
ilk. However, let us proceed with the event and the understanding of the
eternal wisdom itself.
When we awake in paradise we do not awake in
the sense of coming out of a sleep then; it is nothing like that at all. There
is no waking up or sleeping in that realm, for when you are resurrected into it
you have ALWAYS been there; there is no before. Temporality does not apply
there. Hence, even if we went there a million times it would always be ‘once’
from our perception anyway; and by virtue of annihilation itself. Paradise is
the beginning; and the end is a new beginning. So it is both the beginning and
the end, and then the beginning again. It is like the knot that joins a round
piece of string or loop; or the weld that holds the circle of being together.
It is home! From whence we came. It is my home; everyone’s home. We are Twins;
divine cosmic twins.
One does not wake up then or suddenly come
into self consciousness there for one has always been there and self conscious
within it. Naturally enough you and I can come to question that truth as it is
experienced by the I AM within that realm when we are in extension of it; and
don’t I know it. But you cannot whilst in there; it is uncontradictable. Thus
when self consciousness is restored, shall we say, after annihilation, it is
not the restoration of the personality that went in, thus it is not really a
resurrection in that sense, for that part of ourselves which exists in that
realm has always been there; and the
part, the personality, that went into annihilation does not exist there; but it
is still you; the real you; but the inner and depth eternal you that only this
dimension can reveal; and hold. The part that is never let go of. So much
depends then on the reference point one is talking from when using the term ‘I’
or me. Hence we have to come to know our true self; that part which IS the real
us, and of which everything else is ultimately objective—even the personality,
time and changing events.
In that realm there is no memory of ever
having existed before or elsewhere. There is no before or elsewhere. Thus we
are not talking about the personality existing in paradise but that of the
PERSON. The personality is washed away in annihilation. But nevertheless that
person in paradise is ‘ME’... ‘I AM ME’. It is still my consciousness (you in
your case). But not the you of the temporal senses. The person and the
personality are but two parts of our trinity; and the soul or overself is the
third part—like three quarks in a proton or three peas in a pod. One could
therefore mistakenly talk about the ‘I AM’ which exists in the womb of eternal
mind as being objective from the personality of the being in time and space;
but to do so would be very wrong and also cause a paradox and alienation of
self from self, or the outer from the inner. Likewise it is painfully obvious
from hindsight that some, if not many (through second hand dialogue and
distortions no doubt) have thought this aspect of being to be the first cause;
the unseen living mover of creation itself. But not so; for there is another,
and even beyond that depth... beyond our self, and which is not us.
The eternal paradise at the ground of our
being is experienced to be the first created thing and place; but certainly not
the creative source itself. Although it is known to be the first emanation of
the creative source itself, the first act of creation. In the beginning man was
indeed in the garden of eternal delight and perfection; paradise. But as I say,
it would still require an ‘act’ to bring forth paradise and the minds within
it. Thus it is also known whilst in that place that there is a deeper but uncreated
reality. But not a deeper reality that you or I can ever get to; and that is a
known fact whilst there. The I AM which exists in that reality is not the first
cause then, and that is axiomatic at the time. It is the first thing ‘CAUSED’.
However, it was not created in time; certainly not the kind of space-time that
you and I know out here. It is deeper down within the inner structure of
emanation than the point where space times become a phenomenon of extended
reality; just as a river is not the river bed, but without a river bed and the
banks there could be no river. It is the ground of being; not the creative
source of all being.
Let us continue however, with the exegesis as
it unfolded. I was resurrected from non existence, death, into a place of
eternal perfection. In that place there is perfect vision, (those who are blind
will see). A vision which must be from two locations I guess because the
vision, the place, is three dimensional; binocular vision. There exists width,
breadth, and depth. The place, realm, goes on as far as one can see, and into a
distance beyond sight itself, for it is everywhere and everything. There is up,
and there is down, there is left and there is right, all relative to the point
of vision needless to say. The vision is of darkness and of infinite jewel like
glowing lights. The lights are like jewels, diamonds set in a sea of purple
glowing darkness; which is not really dark at all, but somehow pulsating with
vitality and being. The lights are small but more than mere points of light,
and they are of various size and distance apart. Some are even kind of wispy
and strung out; but most are roundish. Neither the darkness or the lights can
be described in a way which does them justice, for the beauty transcends
anything known or knowable. It is the original unadulterated essence and
principle of beauty. The lights in that realm are stationary, or so it seems to
observation. Nothing moves, all is still and silent. The only thing that moves
is I, or self consciousness. I AM slowly drifts through that realm in a
clockwise orbit; a slow orbit, but an orbit nevertheless. Initially it is like
a slow drifting in a straight line. However, it is an orbit, a clockwise orbit
assuming the clock were laying face up on the floor. The orbit is of great
distance and almost perceived as a straight line, but it is known to be an
orbit about an unseen centre. The I that exists there (us) has no perceived
substance or form, it is just pure virgin primordial consciousness as far as we
are concerned; or a mysterious substance which can be made conscious; a ‘spirit
stuff or energy’ of some kind. But what it is made of (if anything other than
consciousness) cannot be known.
It cannot be seen or touched. It is like such
energy is sacrosanct. There is no form to the eyes that see, for it is the
consciousness or energy itself which can see. It can see almost all the way
around itself, but not quite all the way around. Thus you cannot see directly
behind you but you can indeed see well to the left and right in greater vision
than human vision. In ones drifting in this paradise one does not come into
contact with the lights at all; and one does not really know as to what the
lights are, (one can deduce from hindsight though) they are just lights,
beautiful lights, and their configuration slowly alters with the perspective of
ones movement in orbit.
The darkness itself is indescribable, it is
like a translucent glow of purple soup which is somehow vibrant, vital, it is
not a void and it is not mere space in between the lights; it is a ‘something’;
but more like a glowing soup or aura somehow.
Perhaps it is the ‘stuff’ that beings ‘congeal’ out of; like planets and
stars in the universe. And ones orbit is through this divine and wondrous
darkness amid the jewel like lights. Thus, it is a brightness as well as a
darkness. Like the twilight of the gods indeed. The description may make it
sound a little bit like the physical universe with the stars amid black space;
but it is nothing like that at all. But
if anything then more like the vision among a nebula in a past supernova.
The lights are much bigger than our
perception of stars which are mere pin pricks of light, and there is a tint of
colour in them even, as I say, like diamonds; but the predominant aura and glow
is white. They have a substance and shape, but there seems to be no absolute
uniformity of shape; but most seem to be round as I say. The darkness is
nothing like outer space, and it is not even dark at all; but dark-ish, like
purple which is glowing. The lights are not as distant as the stars in space
even though they are not in contact, and the distances between them is many
times their actual size. Thus it is not like the emptiness of outer space at
all. Moreover, one can see all this without turning ones vision, for indeed one
cannot turn ones vision. There is no ‘Oh, I think I will look that way or this
way’... you just see it all, all the time. But you also know that you are not
seeing ‘it all’ at all, for it is infinite and everywhere.
However, that realm is not about the vision
as I say, it is about the magic; the knowing, the understanding, the passion,
the reality, the knowing the ‘ALL’, the love, the wisdom, the beauty, and above
all else it is about the purpose of creation and being. It is ineffable really.
In a word it is all about ‘being there’; taking part in this Divine mystical
union of creation at root beyond time. It seems that the vision itself is a
kind of bonus perhaps: a place in which to do this knowing yet whilst in a
repose of divine peace; the peace that passes all understanding; perfection,
and affirmation of being. It is like an amen to creation; the swan song of
perfection. It is like the last chord of the ultimate piece of perfect music; a
chord which comes like an amen after that pregnant pause and build up to the
final chord. There could be nothing cleverer and wiser than to have
annihilation precede this reality; it is like music in that sense; the last,
and divine chord of created being when all has seemed to be done and finished.
Moreover, it is also the beginning as well as the end, as I say, for it is
where we come from. It is like it could be described as the cosmological
waiting room of created consciousness before transmigration into the experience
of time, freedom and activity. There are no other beings perceived (or even
known of) in paradise; one is totally alone with this truth and its reality.
Thus the place and the knowledge is all yours, all mine, all beings from their
point of reference and consciousness; it is the realm where all centres meet
beyond space and time in the primordial motherload of created consciousness,
minds, spirits, beings, whatever you want to call them. ‘Motherload’ does not
mean female either. It means the main seam; the core, and the original. It is
PURE consciousness; beyond time, space, and memory. It (I AM) is the alpha and
omega of all extended minds; the beginning and the end of all created beings in
creation; the first creation and the home that awaits the return of all created
minds which are but the children or progeny of creation.
Nothing was created before I AM and paradise:
and nothing is created after me; I am the beginning and the end of creation,
(synetic dialogue). Thus it is that the consciousness in the repose of the eternal
domain is the first child of creation—in the Virgin Birth of creation itself.
The real and only Virgin Birth (and this one is not symbolic, it is the real
thing). Before the mountains high and wide, before the sea’s did flow, before
the stars gave forth their light, even then, I said, I KNOW. Before my
personality was, I AM. Before cave men came into being, I AM. Look deeper than
the stones of the earth and the oceans, and there you will find me; I am the
light which is beyond them all; I am the light of life and the resurrection.
Know me, and you will know your self; for I AM... and you are I AM.
Thus it is not metaphysics but proto-physics;
before physics. It is not ‘after time’ (although it is that also) it is before
time moved; before changing events emanated forth from the centre of all being
and the eternal point of no duration. We are there at the beginning, like the
observer of the first act of creation.
Our self consciousness in that dimension
cannot think; thinking is a temporal process; but it is totally aware
nevertheless, (thus, knowledge before thought: thus thought depends on
knowledge... NOT the other way around as many seem to assume. Earthly
philosophers are like mere babies in Divine ignorance). It (we) is (are) not
aware of things as we are aware of things out here however, but it is aware of
what can only be described as the essences and eternal principles and qualities
of things; truths; depth realities; quality; meaning; purpose; beauty; wisdom;
passion. That root of our being of eternal consciousness, that part of
ourselves which exists there at the deepest level, the first child of creation,
is totally in absolute love, a passion beyond description. It is filled with
the passion of being to such a degree that if you and I out here were to have
that degree of passion burning inside of our temporal minds or guts then we
would blow up; (and perhaps this caused it to happen during an incarnate life;
who knows, who knows); but such passion is like dynamite. It is not like the
watered down love we know in this world, and certainly wonderful though that
be. It is more comparable to the heat at the big bang with that of absolute
Cosmic temperature now.
In this life we tend to think of wisdom as
that of knowing what to do, of doing the right and proper thing; because it is
wise to do that thing; but that is intelligence not wisdom. However, the wisdom
within that consciousness is nothing like that. Its wisdom is the knowledge of
creation itself; the knowledge of the
heart: the knowledge of itself and its eternal existence. Knowledge also of
that which is not itself; otherness; that which gave event to paradise and
oneself; it is uncontradictable certainty of creation; purpose; being; and the
wisdom of the beginning and the end of all things. And thence all of which I
sum up in the terms the ‘Eternal Gnosis’ or the ‘Eternal Wisdom’.
It is a divine swoon of the exultation of the
love of being; and being a part of it all.
That ‘I AM’ knows well enough that something brought it forth into being;
it knows well enough that it does not contain its own causation. It also knows
that the cause of its creation is not paradise itself (the place) in its
origin; and not within paradise itself in absolute terms. The first cause
cannot be seen, it cannot be directly known independent of essences and created
forms, and yet in a way it knows of nothing else other than its love for its
source of being. And its source of being is that of no created thing; no thing
created. And it is not questionable; it is uncontradictable knowledge and
certain reality. There is no doubt. Thus, if it could be said that one is
‘contemplating’ whilst there, which is true in a way, then the thing which one
is concentrating (not thinking) on in this swoon of passion, knowledge and delight
is that of the love of ‘No Created Thing’. If you follow my meaning.
Thus it is that such child of consciousness (us in there)
is in love and wisdom and yet it is but a child; a virgin creation; a virgin
birth no less: pure in its love of otherness and the love of itself and its
home which was created for it. Pure in the sense that it cannot think. Pure in
the sense that it has had no other experience beyond that of paradise itself.
Pure in its love which is unconditional of anything, and unadulterated. For
although it somehow knows everything in there, you and I (out here) would say
that it knows nothing at all in the sense that we consider knowledge and
understanding things. It is a very strange thing, for in this world there are
two things that you and I can never ever know; one of them is everything, and
the other is nothing. (For ‘knowing’ means to know ‘some thing’). And yet that
part of ourselves in that realm knows only two things: one of them is
everything (the essence and principle of) and the other is no thing. How odd,
how very odd; it is like a reciprocal reality, or the square root of minus
one—except that this place exists in reality. The ‘I AM’ of that realm has no
knowledge of Earth and incarnate existence. No knowledge of the universe or
universes of space and time. No knowledge of created forms other than itself
and paradise. Those who claim that they are communicating with the dead may or
may not be communicating with other living beings somewhere, but not beings in
this reality, not the totally transcendent. They are sacrosanct and belong to
something else for that duration.
In the eternal paradise then there is only
One, and the one is the all; (for we are all identical in it). It is only from
hindsight and whilst on Earth (with remembrance of paradise) that we can know
that all created consciousness sees it that way, and in the same way; thus all
beings perceive the oneness in the divine transcendent realm of perfect repose,
perfect love, and perfect wisdom.
In that place there is no pain, no worry (no
bills to pay) no answering to do; no eating, no sleeping, no thinking, no
memory, no remorse; no hopes or desires, no fears; nothing negative. Thus it is
also then a Mono-Pole reality; all positive and no negative; (hence no negation).
All good, no bad. All beauty, no ugliness. All ‘now’, no past or future. All
understanding and affirmation, no doubt or unknowing. All answers, no
questions. Good god almighty, why was anything ever created so good? Who knows,
who can answer! Only that child knows; and that is its wisdom—and it is you.
*
As I drifted in a slow orbit swathed in a
love which is ineffable, beyond words and full rational understanding, in a
wisdom which is beyond dialogue, in a place of eternal and everlasting
perfection, I suddenly heard a voice or command (or the experience of one) and
understood a ‘command’ or directive! I had never heard a voice or command before
in all my existence, and I was in fear and panic. The voice, or command said...
“It is now time to go”!
Words cannot begin to describe. I had never
known communication or words or commands before. I did not know as to what was
communicating with me, or how or why... was it me or was it something else... I
began thinking... what IS thinking! There is nothing else, only me! I did not
know what ‘go’ meant, and yet somehow I did begin to understand, and as I began
to understand I was in even more fear and panic, (was I biting from the TREE of
knowledge) for there was nowhere else to go; only this place exists.... No, no, I do not want to go (I do not know
how I invoked or understood such communication for I had never communicated
with anything). But I know not of ‘go’, this is my home and my love... I cannot
go! (The first thought... and not by choice).
“It is all well that you must go now, for
something out there is in need and you must now be with it: do not fear, it is
all well that you must go now... now be with it”!
That fear at knowing I was ‘going’ is not
possible to put into words; it could not be put into words. But one knew
nothing of other things, or worlds, or time and space. Nothing. Nothing other
than Eternal Paradise.
*
I did not open my eyes for they had never
been closed as far as I know. Returning was instantaneous action at a distance.
I was looking at a cat fast asleep on my lap. My arms hung limp at my side. The
fire had long since burned away and all was as quiet as the grave. It was very
late into the evening and growing cold, yet my body was warm, comfortable. All
was as it had been except the fire was out, the cat fast asleep; and about
three hours or so had elapsed.
No amount of words or pages could ever sum up
my initial feelings and thoughts on returning to temporal conscious and the
same life that I had left seemingly millions of millions of years ago. Yet it
was but three hours ago. I must have sat staring at the wall ahead of me for
the next hour dumb-struck; without moving as much as an eyeball or a muscle. I
was in shock. There are no words to describe the feeling, the shock, the
excitement, the annoyance of coming back—the impossibility of it all. I was
shocked, joyful, sad at returning, bemused, enlightened, annoyed, happy, mind
blown yet understanding all at the same instant.
By the time I got around to moving it was
about eleven p.m. I wondered as to what would have happened to the children if
the house had caught fire or if one of them had woke up and come down-stairs. I
thought more in that next hour than I had thought in all my past life put
together; but none of my thinking made any sense to the rational mind. When I
came to my full rational senses I shouted out to myself... “Good grief almighty what the hell was that”!
I was indeed back to normality, my old charming ignorant self. But perhaps not
quite so ignorant now.
I staggered into the kitchen to make a strong
cup of coffee which I took up to bed with me. The children were sleeping fine
and did not look as though they had moved all evening. I did not think I would
ever be able to sleep ever again. But wrong again, for I was sound asleep
within no time at all, and before my wife returned home from her evening out
with friends. I never told anyone of that event; the paradise event, for twenty
years or more, for obvious reasons. Not a word; not a mention. What the hell
could one say anyway! And we all know well enough the reaction it would
receive. It was therefore not only the secret teaching—but unspeakable! Or was it!?
I had undergone what I later came to call the
‘Mutual Convergence’ (in annihilation). Twenty years later I underwent yet
another most profound experience which I came to call the ‘Reciprocal
Convergence’: or the Consummatum Incarnate (paradise on earth). And in which
there is another kind of union, a reciprocity of ‘meeting again’—and on earth,
between the inner self and the outer personality in a oneness. And only then
did I came to see the connection, the reason, the meaning and purpose of the ‘I
AM’ in paradise; and in which the function and purpose of the incarnate mind
and the inner depths of self and the objective physical universe are fulfilled
in a unification of mindful being on earth; the three in one; in a dance among
the temporal forms on earth, and which was understood as the very purpose of
creation itself and the reason as to why even paradise exists—and has to be
known while yet on this Earth during an incarnate lifetime here. They have to
be joined on earth also; that is the goal, the function and purpose—that
eternal self is no longer alienated in conscious awareness from the incarnate
mortal form.
And hence the saying that the outer has
become as the inner and the purpose of being has been fulfilled, consummated,
in the perfection of forms as it was in the beginning in the transcendent
essence of being then so too has it become in the forms in extension. And in
that knowing and understanding creation has achieved its goal incarnate; and
within the knowing incarnate mind of a finite personality... but ‘I AM’
eternal. The mind is not in this universe simply to observe it, but rather to
fulfil it. You and I AM are one. You are I AM. Know thy self.
However, that was way off in the future;
twenty long years in the future. In the meantime time did get mean at times;
and from hindsight I can only call it a twenty year period of the dark night of
the soul at times: for I had not yet learned of the reciprocal convergence of
spirit with spirit on earth in the consummatum or reciprocal convergence. But
in the meantime there also existed a dichotomy, a duality of being; one being
perfect and the other far from perfect. A little learning is a dangerous thing,
so drink deep or taste not the divine eternal spring. Where metaphysics hangs
its coat; and mystics dwell in awe; the singer may be sighted; but the song
goes on some more. Believe what you will, whilst you are free to do so; for you
will not always be so!
But wiser by far to believe nothing at all;
for knowledge will suffice: and ignorance melts away with experience. But
instantly after that Paradise event of transcendence itself there was but one
thought, one knowledge, one understanding and affirmation... and which is...
Oh... no... Oh... my God... how beautiful it
is! Oh my Love, would that they could know this; would that their eyes could
see and their minds understand as to what they are, and from whence they came;
the beauty, the truth, the passion. My love, give me the understanding; and
give me the words, that I might speak of the wonder of being. And let us create
Humankind in our image.
It is an irony that you and I here on earth, the temporal
rational discursive mind, find it all too easy to accept anything that is bad
as being true, and yet the acceptance of anything good being true is so
difficult. That synthesis of inner understanding may well be easier for some
than it is for others. I had more than enough problems with it—more than
enough. And it took so much to make me understand and accept it. Would that it
could be easier for others. I think that there is no better reason for making
mention of these things for the young. We all learn from experience eventually,
and that is natural enough. But to be able to learn, to some degree at least,
from the mistakes of others, then that would be even better.
*
* *
The
Dark Side
(1963-1983)
Dichotomy and Synthesis
If it had been the case that there were no
such thing as spiritual reality (and as I had perhaps assumed the case to be as
a youngster) then all such talk and speculation on spirituality (and mystic
revelation) would be mere opinion or belief; and unjustified opinion and belief
at that. But when however, such reality becomes self evident by direct personal
demonstrable experience such as I underwent, and of which you have just read a
brief synopsis of, then it does indeed become a real justified target for
thought and contemplation. I would imagine that people’s immediate reactions to
such a profound event as a mystic death and resurrection encounter such as that
would be very different, and depending to a large extent upon the personality
involved and their past mode of thinking. My own reaction was immediate
ambivalence and much confusion. I include this chapter then, ultra-brief though
I will have to make it, in the case that it might assist others to avoid so
many years of inner frustration and a long drawn out synthesis in acceptance
and understanding of the events.
*
Thus it was then that at the age of twenty-four,
whilst sitting alone one evening minding my own business and expecting nothing,
that event occurred. And how is one supposed to react to that! Then again how
is one supposed to react to any experience? What IS experience? Could anyone
even begin to describe how they felt I wonder, for I certainly cannot, and
there are no words anyway. I did not even know that such inner ‘events’ existed
to be known and experienced. I was dumbfounded and mind blown. This was not
knowledge as I understood knowledge and experience to be; and yet it was as
real as being alive on earth. For three hours (on the outside) and forever
(within) I had seen things and learned things, knew things; that I could not
accept as being true when returning to ‘normality’. How does one cope with
that? How is one supposed to cope with it? No person tells us that. We all walk
through this mysterious creation alone—or in existential conscious terms
anyway.
For a while then I was confronted with a
direct demonstrable reality which I did not want to know, could not understand,
for it was too much and too ‘way out’ and different. Not only that but it was
too good. It was too good for me and it was too good for reality itself. The
world was an obvious obnoxious cock-up; but that thing, elaboration of the
mind, hallucination during a trance, or whatever it was, was wondrous beyond
words and belief; there was nothing better, and nothing even equal to that
existence. It did not add up or equate with the rest of reality; whatever
‘reality’ is. Was it the case that I had gone mad maybe? Did I really die for
three hours? No that cannot be right surely! Was it a vision of death whilst
yet still alive maybe? Was it the case that the mind was some kind of
confidence trickster to itself maybe; and for what purpose or function? Or was
it the case that it really was what it seemed to be—could that really be true?
And why me of all people? I am not that ‘kind’ of person. My mind was in a
giddy spin for about three months. Yet one also had to carry on with the normal
daily chores and events as usual, as though nothing had ever happened at all.
It occurred to me that it was a damn good job
that I had a keen sense of humour and a down to earth kind of personality. I
think that alone kept me sane. Is it any wonder then that such people to whom
these things happen (I found out later that it did happen to others) then begin
to wander the moors on their own, to think, wonder, contemplate, ask themselves
questions: and try to understand it all; and as to why it happened to them. It
is no wonder at all. Life shows us things and in so doing the nature of the
mind is forced to ask questions and seek answers to them. A question is much
like a vacuum in the mind, and nature—and the mind itself it seems—abhors a
vacuum. In due course I came to learn
that some people actually go looking for esoteric experiences. They must be the
mad ones I thought; for sufficient unto the day are the problems thereof. After
about six months had gone by I decided to give up even thinking about it at
all. For it did not make any sense; and obviously no answers were going to
come. A peasant like myself could not work these things out, so there was no
point even thinking about it.
As a young man I had never had what some like
to call a philosophy, religion or belief system; and being young is the time
when one is learning so much about life anyway, and not for forming
conclusions. But I guess I thought along the lines that the human mind and
consciousness was the product of electro-chemical actions within the brain and
that the thing which we called ‘our conscious self’ was the product of this
biological and electro-chemical stimulation; and that being the sum of it.
What I learned that evening however—and among
other things—was a contradiction to that hypothesis. But one is so used to
thinking along certain channels of thought that when one is jolted out of it
one then questions the reality of the new concepts not the old ones; for the
old ones fit in the mind like a snug warm glove—potted thinking and self
created assumptions maybe. And which for the large part have been put there by
our indoctrination, nurture and education from other people since childhood;
for they tell us what life and reality is all about. Thus one is faced with the
dichotomy and paradox of all time. If these things are really real, truly
independent of simply experiencing them, then the conventional thinking of both
science and religion is wrong. So what is real then; book learning or direct
human experience? The dichotomy was also exacerbated by the fact that I loved
and enjoyed the events and that reality so much, and yet the implications which
it also brought did not appeal to me a great deal.
One of the implications in that transcendent
mode of being is that you and I are never terminated as such, but simply
undergo a broken continuity of self existence. (Broken by the event of
annihilation and then beginning again in that mysterious resurrection—and which
then eventually led back into this world or perhaps some other incarnate world
or dimension again). But I did not fancy the idea of continuity, broken or
otherwise. Another is that you and I are not even from this world at all, in
essence or spirit anyway. Also that we are not mere puppets of a Divine Order
but rather the very right hand partner of it all; its direct progeny. What a
lot of stupid nonsense surely; that cannot be true! The initial question then
which one faces after such an event is as to whether one actually believes or
accepts such events and such learning done therein to be really true or not,
and irrespective of experiencing it—and actually LIVING it.
This new situation caused me a little trouble
to say the least; for I did not even know how to believe things. I was happy
enough in knowing a few things and also of my ignorance of other things. I had
seen a little of life on earth, and mysterious and pleasant as it was some of
the time the large part was that of suffering and downright misery for most
people on earth: and most of which was caused by people themselves; arguments,
wars, hostilities, deprivation, exploitation, and it was no joke and certainly
no paradise to be sure, and we were no divine beings to be sure. Or if we were
then something had gone very wrong somewhere along the way. But what I had seen
and been in that evening was a paradise of perfect existence. Why? How come?
And why me! What was the point of it all? How the hell could anything be so
good... and yet real. And how could it be so good... and yet not real? How can
you exist in something that does not exist to be existed in? How can you know
something that does not exist to be known?
It must be bloody real—but it can’t be! And so the inner synthesis goes
for a while.
But if it were true that you and I were never
destroyed in absolute terms, and if those things are true, then who in their
right mind would ever want to come back here again anyway? For you cannot stay
there in that dimension of mind even if it is real. I do not want to come here
again and that is for sure, for this world is juvenile and cretinous enough
without having to live here with the memory of that other place—and which makes
it even seem worse here on earth.
I began reading all kinds of literature for a
while; for I had to know if others had seen and been in this same identical
reality that I had seen and been in. But there is so much to read and so little
time left after work to do it all. Yet that which I did come to read during the
first year or two had no resemblance to what I had seen, learned and knew.
After reading much ridiculous nonsense that had no relevance to that which I
had seen and known I gave up reading again and tried to revert back to my love
of chess—but it had gone! I could no more get interested in playing serious
chess than I could in digging holes in the ground. I could not concentrate on
chess—it seemed too trivial and a waste of good time. And that annoyed me so
very much, for I had loved chess for so many years; and now that love had gone,
deserted me; and not of my choice. Why?
After about six or seven months I decided to
give up even thinking about that evening and that wondrous transcendent event;
for not only did it not relate to anything in normal perception but it could
not be got at by choice anyway; and nobody knew anything about it. So what was
the point in even thinking about it yet alone asking questions and trying to
think and make sense of it all? I returned to my old philosophy, of ‘sod the lot
of it’!
I had concluded that whatever it really was,
and experienceable though it was, knowable though it was, that I did not want
to know, and that I did not want to think of it any longer. I was not mentally
up to it. So I stopped thinking about
it. Every time the thought, memory, feeling and inner passion, flashed across
my mind I deliberately pushed it aside and thought about other things
instead—difficult though it was. But resolute I had always been.
After about another month had gone by I had
my first and only nightmare that I have ever had in my life. A nightmare which
was a dream which I will never forget for as long as I live; and which then
acted as a major catalytic event at that time.
I dreamt that I was out walking over the
moors on a very bright starlit night. There was no moon but the stars were so
bright and so abundant that I could see well enough to the top of the hill
towards which I was walking. I knew the path even though the path itself was
dark and not well seen as such; but the illumination from the sky made the top
of the hill stand out in silhouette and quite clear to vision. I knew that
there were no hazards underfoot and thus I could walk in confidence.
All of a sudden somebody switched on a
searchlight. I had been walking quite slowly, both hands in my pockets and
whilst whistling to myself as I walked. At the event of this light being
switched on I was thus taken by surprise; for I knew that it was a searchlight
and yet there was no war on. So who the hell was looking for what out here on
the barren moor at this time of the night with such a bright light? It then
occurred to me that something was wrong; the damn light was upside down! I had
seen enough search lights during the war and knew well enough what they looked
like; and this bugger was upside down. I began to hasten my steps, for the
light was in the direction I was walking toward anyway; and I was intrigued to
find out what it was for, and as to what they were looking for at this time of
the night. But on realising that it was upside down I guessed that it must have
been a slow moving aeroplane or a helicopter with a new silencing method; for
there was no sound whatsoever.
Moreover, the light was not moving. It became
obvious that the point of the light was up in the sky and that the wide bit was
on the ground. But some sod up there was looking for something on the ground;
yet there was nothing but barren moor out here. Then the light began to move.
It began what one can only describe as a scanning action. The point at the top
was stationary and the beam itself was moving slowly across the moor in a
straight line. It then stopped; shot back instantly to a point in the opposite
direction where it had begun scanning and then started scanning a little lower
down the hill; just enough lower down that it would not have missed anything. I
became even more and more intrigued. I took my hands out of my pockets and
began walking a little faster toward it. I arrived at a point where I could
ascertain that the diameter of the beam on the ground was about six feet; and
indeed very bright.
The scanning had continued... slowly across,
fast back, a little further down and then slowly across again, time after time.
These buggers were resolute if nothing else. I reached a point where the beam
on the ground was only about twelve feet away from me; but there was still no
sound and no sign of where the light was coming from in the sky. At that point
I simply stopped walking and just continued to watch the event. On the next
scan the beam passed by where I stood by about four feet or so. It did not even
occur to me that if I did not move out the way then the next scan would cover
the point where I was standing; or if it had occurred to me then it did not
bother me at all; for I just stood there and watched it; for it was
fascinating. As predicted by past events it got to the end of that scan,
flashed back to its original point of movement and slowly began its next scan
again. It had not stopped in its movement since all this had begun. As it
approached I saw that its path was coming straight toward me as I had assumed;
but when it got where I was standing... IT STOPPED DEAD!
I was panic struck. I could not move. I was
transfixed to the spot. I instantly looked upward but although the light was so
dazzling I knew that the upper end, the narrow point end was something to do
with me; but I had to turn my eyes away for the brightness was too much; and in
looking back down I did not see myself—but I saw that ugly bent twisted tree
which I had seen over the moors some seven months back; I was that useless
tree.
I did not wake up, it was as though I had
never been asleep at all. I was flung out of bed and crashed into the wall
which made my nose bleed. I had never known panic before in all my life. I was
sweating buckets and bleeding. I rushed downstairs like a bat out of hell and
made a series of strong cups of coffee. I could hardly stop shaking in panic;
yet I did not know what I was even frightened of; for the dream itself was a
soft and pleasant dream; and I did not frighten easily by anything anyway. It
was my reaction to it which was the nightmare.
I eventually relaxed a little after about
five cigarettes and three cups of coffee. I grabbed a book out of the bookcase
and began studying some weird and wonderful opening variation on the Sicilian
defence Dragon variation to take my mind of it. It was about three in the
morning by now, and there was no way that I was going to go back to bed that
night. Thus it was not the dream itself which was the nightmare but rather my
reaction to it which was the nightmare; and fear of I knew not what. I just did
not understand. How the hell could the mind throw up a wondrous scenario as I
had experienced those few months back and then tonight... this!? It got me
asking questions again and that is for sure. It worked! It was as though the
dream was somehow symbolic. After transcendence I somehow knew that I knew
something which I could not know now, or consciously know now anyway, but that
it would come, whatever it was—a kind of answer or synthesis to the events. But
that was somehow intuitive understanding and thus questionable. I did not
really KNOW it for absolute certainty.
When one settles down again the thinking and
questioning then starts in earnest, and in a calmer action from hindsight.
Strange that we can be moved into action by bad events and forget the good
ones! OK then, these things do happen; so what is going on then, how and why?
And what the hell does whatever it is really want? Where is all this going to,
and why, and how? And why me? I cannot go into any detail of the events which
occurred over the next twenty years for it would take forever. But what
happened shortly after that dream was most odd. It was as though that every
time I came to be motivated by a certain topic I then contemplated upon that
topic of thought, then within a short while, sometimes weeks and sometimes
months, I would have some very strange kind of psychic experience which could
be seen as a direct answer to the very issue I had been contemplating upon—like
an answer. This is ridiculous I thought; and yet it is damn well happening.
This involved all kinds of experiences, but never quite the same kind twice. I
did not even want them, this was not my kind of ‘thing’; not me. I did not want
to see past and future events as pictures flashed up in my mind. I did not want
deep inner empathies with people. I did not want pictures flashed up in my mind
as to what they were thinking or what they had in their pockets even. What the
hell was going on and what was the point of it all? I did not want any of this
stuff. I just wanted to be left alone to get on with my life and normal daily
reality.
These experiences however, were much
different from that first big event, the transcendent event; and anyway these
other ‘psychic’ or whatever they were experiences did not answer questions
about that other reality as such, but simply seemed to show me various
potentials which the mind could somehow come to do at times; and god only knows
how or why. But that first experience was not so much about what the mind could
come to do but rather—what it indeed was in essence! And assuming it was true
of course. However, these other things were always proved at the time that they
WERE indeed true, for they could be proved; they were proved; and they were
never ever wrong, not a one of them. Is something trying to tell me something—if
so what and why!? And why indeed me; for I asked for none of this at all?
These things continued on and off for nearly
eighteen years. By this time, or long before it in fact, I had got used to
them, and simply smiled about them. It was not as though these events were
happening every day: far from it; and life, as it had always been, was
reasonable enough; good times and bad times the same as anyone else has, but
not extremes of anything. Then for a while nothing happened at all, not a jot. I
began to think and accept that all these things were now over for me in this
lifetime, and that perhaps I had seen far more than enough anyway. Yet many
claimed to understand their experiences (or so they said), but I was damned if
I could. I felt a deep inner gratitude for having been so fortunate to see such
wonders, and yet somehow, and by virtue of it, I felt some how ‘left up in the
air’. As though somehow, like a pistol, I had been cocked but not fired;
unresolved. It was all still unsynthesized in rational comprehension. No final
synthesis to the flow and understanding of it all, and the why. A half-baked
understanding.
A little learning may well be a dangerous
thing but it can also be damned frustrating as I found out. For an inner part
of me knew things somehow, even understood them some how in an emotional
understanding, yet the outer and rational part of my mind did not accept them
or even want to know. Imagine listening to the most beautiful song in creation
and then the singer skips out the last chord, the resolution to the harmony,
the last amen—that is how I felt. But luckily my own personality could still
laugh at it. It created no hung up as such; but more a kind of rational
annoyance than anything. I began, on black days, to wish that I had seen
nothing of all these things at all; and yet I knew that I did not really mean
that; just that dark cloud that can pop up at times I guess. By the time I
reached forty years of age I thought all such past experiences beyond the
normal range of sensory data had now finished in my case. I had even accepted
and become used to the idea that no more was going to be seen and that no full
synthesis of understanding would ever come. My degree of intelligence, or lack
of it, could not work it out. Anyway I did not even want to work it out now—I
damn well wanted to KNOW!
Life was ticking over OK. I was now married
for the second time after my first two children had grown up and were doing
there own thing; and now with two more young ones in the second marriage (with
one more yet to come—another surprise!). I had what seemed like two full lives
in one as it were; five children in all and one foster child which we took on
from the deprived area of inner Bristol. I often chuckle when I read of these
academics who inform us how best to bring our children up; the sociologists
with bits of paper and Ph.D.’s (Piles of Hybrid Dribble, or Medallions of
conformative potential), and often they have not even had any children. Their
‘knowledge’ is all academic, not direct hard earned experience. Ignorance is
bliss!
If I had another five hundred children then
it would still be guesswork and instinctive reactions for the large part. (Plus
the fact that they are all very different and with different needs and
personality; children are not clones that conform to rules of convention.) But
if they are loved, they will not go far wrong it seems: either in wealth or in
relative poverty. But having them if they are not loved and wanted is the
greatest tragedy in the universe of mankind and the existing human condition.
Children know whether they are loved or not intuitively; and not simply by
words. Too many people say ‘I Love you’ in this world; but do they really know
what real love (not need) and deep passion really are I wonder?
However, one spring morning when the kids
were at school my wife and I went out with our dog to the hills overlooking the
Chew Valley lakes near Bristol where we lived for eight years: for she had been
attending Bath University for three or four years. We thought it was such a
nice day that we would take a picnic and she could study some papers she had to
deal with whilst taking in the fresh air. The view was crystal clear that day
and the sun was soft and warm with just a pleasant fresh occasional breeze; it
was perfect weather. After our sandwiches and a drink my wife settled down to
her studies whilst I was playing with the dog; he loved the ‘fetch’ game, for
he was a Springer. After a certain amount of chasing around, I, getting a
little older and less energetic than I had been, eventually slumped down on the
grass for a rest whilst the dog chewed on his stick. I was in a position about
eight feet away from my wife and behind her. She was lost in her work; the dog
was lost in the joys of his stick and his earlier chasing, so I simply began to
look around me to admire the view.
Within a few minutes or so something strange
began to happen. It was very, very peaceful. There were no other people around,
and there fell a kind of hush that one experiences at rare times, as though all
sounds were muted a little. Like one of those days when walking on air or
cotton wool, or on soft new snow; a unity of peace which is rare on earth. Just
at that point the dog trotted over to me with his stick, he wanted me to throw
it again for him. But I could not be bothered to get up so I simply threw it
whilst reclining on the grass. As the stick flew though the air it began to
sparkle so it seemed. Perhaps it was the reflection of the sun. But as the dog
was leaping through the long deep grass as it was at that part of the field the
dog also began to ‘glow’ with a strange inner radiance. As I looked around me,
my wife (I could only see her back and her hair), was also glowing. The grass
was glowing, and the trees. I looked at my hands. They were glowing with an
inner light of pure radiance. I began to think I was perhaps not very well or
something, yet I felt fine, tremendous; never felt better. I scanned the whole
vista around me. Everything was glowing with an inner light, the world was
different than I had ever seen it before. The lakes way down below us, the sky,
the trees, the few puffs of small white clouds, the grass, my shoes,
everything, was shimmering with this inner light and a wondrous radiance; and
it was all becoming more so and more so—what on earth is happening? Then the
‘hushed-ness’ of sound which had existed turned into a kind of ‘hum’. Not a hum
as such but a kind of unified ‘song’ or symphony of sound. I could hear the
ants, the bees, insects in the grass, the dogs breath, it was almost as though
I could hear all our own hearts beating and blood pumping. And yet it was a
unified kind of sound, almost like music in fact. I was dumbstruck and amazed,
for I had never seen anything like this before. It was as though the physical
senses had been liberated from a sleep and come alive to a greater spectrum of
creation itself; the world was different; and amazing. And then it happened! It
is indescribable; ineffable. I can describe the journey to that transcendent
paradise; annihilation; the resurrection; what it is like in that paradise, and
what it looks like and feels like; but my god almighty I cannot describe this
for the love of trying. It was as though a hole had opened up in creation
itself. As though there had been a blockage up the pipe-line which was now
cleared by a flue brush clearing out the muck of the senses.
There was no ‘gap’ between the transcendent
paradise realm and this earth, for they were ‘joined’, directly connected; a
blockage had become unblocked. For I now recognised those shimmering lights, I
had seen them before when in that ‘nothing’—Limbo, all those years ago. I
realised only now, and for sure, that those lights I had seen on the journey to
that paradise dimension whilst in ‘nothing’ were the naked face and wave front
of the act of creation itself. I had wondered about it on many occasions—but
now—now I knew it. That which was within; the Divine Implicate Order, is now
out there, in the world also, and on a new ‘wave front’ of my own minds interaction
with objective reality itself. Good grief almighty. And just at that point I
began to be bombarded by what one can only call chunks of ‘data’, understanding
and comprehension. As though a million pieces of Jig-saw-puzzle were being
tossed up into the air and putting themselves together in the finished picture
of comprehension. It pounded and pounded and pounded with relentless velocity
and increasing frequency. It was as though my I AM in transcendence and the
personality incarnate became one on earth in a gusher of a union. In
transcendence the outer I had gone to IT: but here and now, on earth, IT, the
implicate inner reality, the child of that Divine realm had come out to me. We
danced again in a swoon of unified passion and delight, as it had been in
paradise those long twenty years ago then so too was it again, now, on earth;
the inner had become the outer: the below as the above.
When I went to IT the outer consciousness had
gone to and become as the inner consciousness. But now the inner child (of mind
at root) walked upon the face of the earth—the essential spirit of being was
liberated... ON EARTH through me! I gave myself up and let that consciousness
walk in my body—to see the trees, to feel the breeze, to show it the finished
product of creation in the outer multitude; the synthesis of the vortex of
emanation. I had shared paradise... and my love, I give the world to you now,
through me! In transcendence there had been a union in the Mutual Convergence,
(in annihilation and resurrection) but this was a reciprocal event, the
Reciprocal Convergence, Paradise on earth, the Consummatum Incarnate! Good god
almighty I cannot take much more of this reality! And yet it kept coming, more
and more, stronger and stronger, I thought I was going to burst with passion
and explode like I did once before. But not so, I was just engulfed in, and
surrounded by a love, a wisdom; all knowledge, all comprehension, all
affirmation, all at the same instant and in ultimate dosage—and in a physical
world unimaginable. And then... and then it came to me, revealed and
comprehended in one shocker of a blast: something had once given me the
understanding... “It is now time to go. Do not fear, for it is all well that
you must go now, for something out there is in need; and you must now be with
it; do not fear, go now; be with it”! In twenty years I had never understood
that bit; I had never come to understand it and I assumed that I never would
come to understand it. But now, twenty years almost to the day later, I
understood it implicitly; and it was the first time in my life that I wept; and
albeit on the inside; for it was the soul that wept. Good god almighty—I knew
what was in need—it was the world itself; the trees, the flowers, the sun and
the sky, the stars themselves—that they might become like this: and it is mine
to give, through the love; through me... TO THEM!
Normality slowly began to return. The ‘music’
gradually turned back into the normal sounds of the bees and the breeze. The
inner lights of the emanation of being slowly dimmed back into the colours of
normal matter and things. The ‘hushed-ness’ faded into normality, and the gates
of paradise closed again. No doubts, no questions, no dichotomy, no unfinished
song; the last amen had been sung and danced—ON EARTH. The last chord made
whole and finalised—and this—is creation done; the finished product. The
synthesis of paradise and earth; the purpose and function of creation and
being. And I was never the same child again, for the child had become a man.
Somebody else walked out of the field that day; somebody very different; and
the twenty year wait was over. Twenty years in the wilderness of the resolution
of the paradise event. But to have waited ten million years would have been
worth it. There is nothing one can say, except that it is now achieved;
Consummatum Est! And I now Understand.
*
My wife did not even know that anything had happened in
that field during that hour or so; and I did not say a word. I was worn out,
wrung out, drained, and mind-blown yet again; yet so very different from the
last time when returning from the transcendent event twenty years earlier. Had
I not have seen that transcendent paradise twenty years ago then I would never
had understood this event at all. But now I did. I read somewhere once that the
young would have visions and that when old they would dream dreams. How
strange, how very strange. All I can do now is to dream dreams of a better
world for young minds to come into; for this one seems to be spiritually dead.
It would seem to me that there must come a time, in one incarnate lifetime or
another, when a soul must walk these paths for themselves. It is more to do
with the evolution of the individuals soul than that of the existing temporal
manifestation of that souls incarnate mind as such. It is plain enough that not
all human beings on earth undergo such events during this lifetime; and yet
they must do so eventually, for it is the evolution of the incarnate soul
itself. There is no evolution in paradise, but only in extension of it. We were
not made FOR paradise (we were made IN IT); but we were made for freedom in a
temporal world—a world in which we are given the freedom and power to make by
way of our own desires and efforts. How incredible! “Here is the ‘stuff’ my love,
make with it what you will”!
*
* *