Showing posts with label stream of consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stream of consciousness. Show all posts

What Is Electricity?

Pop quiz!

What is Electricity???






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The Dance of The Lovers,

SHIVA!

and

SHAKTI!






Behold them in their embrace!

Enfold yourself within that embrace!

And let the in, and the out

the desire and the fulfillment

the breathe in, and the breathe out

You fill me up.......

....... I drink you in.......

.......You fill me up.......

....... I drink it all in.

In the Bridal Chamber!!!

the breathe in, and the breathe out,

and the breathe in, and the breathe out,

the total surrender to What Is

the Is, the Is, the Is!

EE - LEC - TRICITYYYYYYY

It's all Music!

And Magic!

It's the oh, the Oh!, the Oh!

It's the ahhh, the ahhhh-h-hhhaah,

the Oooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
mmmmmjuice

Flowin' in ya!

the I and I

tango

of




SHIVA!

and

SHAKTI!

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Oooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmm
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

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Either this is genius poetry, or I'm really. fucking. high.


But in all seriousness, and non-seriousness of seriousness,

you either get it or you don't.

Those of us that get it, we're the crazy ones.

Ideal vs. Actual, True vs. Real

I am an idealist. I generally believe in the ideal, for better or for worse, as an actual thing, somewhere out there, existing, even attainable, given enough time. Faith and endurance, if anything, are what will bring the ideal into actuality. But, if absolute perfection is the ideal, then we can approach it forever and never actually get there. To what degree, then, must a thing be perfect, if it is to be ideal?  (And if we can't get there, is it still worth trying? I'd say, regardless of whether you're a realist or an idealist, the answer ought to be yes.)

I suppose the problem with idealism stems from the fact that each of us has a different idea(l) in mind when we speak of ideals. Ergo, conflict arises between those with contradictory ideals. But this is only a problem if we take the relativist view, the subjective view of individual humans. Two problems: the realist either denies the existence of the ideal (due to lack of evidence for it in perceived reality), or, allowing its existence in hypothesis, claims that we cannot conceive of it ourselves, because it is beyond our (believed, and thus perceived) nature.

We are the imagination of ourselves.

Yes, I've noticed....

The one who perceives only the appearances of the conditions of this world will insist that the ideal is not a realistic goal, given how far it is from reality. But for one who believes in it, it can be the only goal. Where the two may reach balance is if the idealist takes each realistic goal as a temporary, short-term goal, as a step, on the way to the final goal.


(Which, remember, can't ever be reached!)

(And doesn't exist!!!)

Human fallibility – of course! is what gums it all up in practice. As you can imagine. Look at the world. See? But wait, now, if you look closer, if you give it time, if you listen, if you're open – you will see signs that the better nature in the human spirit lives on. The desire for harmony, peace, mutual prosperity (our ideals?). For learning and growth as well. (The process!) The realist and the idealist can come together and help make progress, if they choose. And the more so according to the degree to which their realism or their idealism is pure – that is to say, true.


Undistorted. Holistic. Integral. Free of dogma.

Knowledge-based or faith-based.

Good so far. But what about life in the moment? What about life as an evolving, individual soul? What is the ideal for ourselves? And how can we deal with the pitfalls of idealism in the personal arena, in how we relate to self and others?

Idealism and realism, both like pits full of shit until the light of awakening consciousness does its work on them. Each has its “pitfalls.”

Somnambulant (spiritually asleep) realists may believe that what they see and sense, and that alone, is real. They often overestimate their own objectivity. They disdain imagination (the greatest tool we have) and the sense of wonder (our bringer of miracles), and so bring upon themselves a restricted field of possibilities, and much drudgery. The solutions to these are implicit in their presentation.

The undeveloped idealist is the worst sort of daydreamer. Never achieves anything, never satisfied with anything – and if they're satisfied, it's only because they're so indifferent, because they're either living in their own world of ideals and daydreams, or they've given up hope of ever achieving it. The lack of hope, of the desire to improve, of the will to serve, are equally stifling as they would be in the realist. These are signs of a faithless idealist, one who has not the courage of their convictions or the spine enough to act on them.

Here's an imagined dialogue between two somewhat more evolved individuals.

Realist: What are you doing?
Idealist: I'm meditating on my vision of perfection.
R: While doing... what... for real?
I: Well, uh... I could tell you about this vision, for real.
R: Oh. OK. And, when you're done, I can tell you about some suggestions I have, based on my own observations, about how to improve things around here in the present moment.

So the true, positive, conscious realist does have an ideal toward which they strive – it's just... a direction, more than any particular idea. An increment of perfection. Reaching in time for whatever betterness is within reach. There is no thought of a final perfection, or an absolute. The existence of either is debatable, and hardly relevant anyway. It's a very practical way to see and live. And, at its best, open-ended. Trust in the process leads to good destinations.

The mature idealist is realistic enough to know just how far they are from being able to imagine a perfect ideal. Realistic enough to set their practical ideals within practical reach. But yet faithful enough to believe, still, that perfection exists in the Heart of All, and, subjectively at least, in the Realm of Pure Ideas. The Heart of All, of course, is no-where and no-when. It is beyond manifestation, it is the source of the manifest. All manifest beings and manifest realities reflect degrees and variations of the Heart, n-dimensional bytes and slices of an infinite-dimensional matrix of possibility, all rooted in the zero point of perfection where all is equally possible, if not equally distant.

It is that discouraging distance from perfection, the wide gap and heavy contrast between the observed and the imagined, that trouble this young idealist so often. I speak of myself. I am troubled when I look upon the content of my character as observed by the consciously observing, neutral part of me, outside the box of ego.

The I!

The Eye?

And I compare it to what I imagine I could be and should be. What I want to be. The differences would fill volumes.

But... my instrument of observation is not neutral; it produces distortions. It contains judgments and is subject to strict limitations. So what I think I observe is not even necessarily close to objective reality..!

 Accuracy, precision, frequency bandwidth, field of view, focus, lens: the variables in forming a picture of what is, or what appears to be.

Accuracy suffers from judgment; judgment is relative to perspective; only the whole perspective gives whole accuracy. So when I judge myself, and I do so harshly, I see myself in a distorted light.

Precision comes with a more refined degree of complexity (higher resolution) of the consciousness doing the observing. Frequency bandwidth, I won't discuss, because the dynamics are too involved beyond the scope of this article... but “scope” is indeed the next variable, aka. field of view. Which is what gives us a context to understand and comprehend the relative nature, the function, the necessity, the genius, the beauty, and the purpose of a part within the greater whole.

Focus: the area into which consciousness concentrates its energies. How well you can focus determines the intensity of your picture. What you focus on, grows. First inside you, then around you appear the results.

Lens: your state of being. Dirty and dark, or clear and bright? Fearful... or loving? Chaotic, conflicted, confined... or harmonious, unified, expansive? Divided by judgment, or reconciled by understanding and acceptance? Connected or cut off? Strong or weak? You can choose your state of being, if you remember the part of you that chooses it – become the part of you that is it.

The totality of you – IS perfection. It is what is: the ideal and the actual, the true and the real.

Let your most beautiful ideal inspire you to act within the real. Let your innermost knowing of who you are guide you. Create your experience of yourself by choosing what to be. Imagine yourself as God, and know that the form you take here is just a little piece of that. It doesn't matter how imperfect we seem to be; we are part of a grander perfection in a grander scheme than we can dream of. You, the far-from-ideal, pathetic little human with all your faults and weaknesses, can no more sully the perfection that is God than you can erase your own eternal existence as God.

We lament when our dreams fall by the wayside, or shatter painfully, or torture us, or turn out to be hollow, or morph into nightmares. But where would we be without the Dream? We are the Dream: these characters we play and the stories we make. We each express our own Ideal,

our own vibration of God,

on its long journey to self-discovery and self-realization. That is what this is about. We're works in progress. Maybe there is no destination, no beginning and no ending. Maybe this is just an ever-changing Dream of Who We Are, Who We Think We Are, Who We Are Becoming, and Who We Wish To Be.
Well, here we are. Another May 1st celebration come and gone here in alcohol-fueled Suomi-land... and another bullshit manufactured "news" item to stoke the fires of the war industry (War on Humanity, War = Peace!) in this glorious Kali Yuga, Age of Inversion! We are truly in the shit, knee-deep if not higher. It is a sublimely ridiculous thing to observe (and thank God for those who do observe). Appearances conspire, orchestrated by mysterious ways that merely play their part in the service of the One-and-All, to engender confusion, delusion and despair in those whose hearts are too clouded over with wishful thinking, or hate, or fear, to see What Is.

Judgment... or discernment?

Definitive dogma... or ineffable truth?

Where do we stand???

Your complacency is a buffer. Your puffed-up zeal, a blinder. What do you know? Nothing, but what you've been allowed to perceive in accordance with your lack of self-importance and selfish denial. Open your senses. Pray to have the unvarnished truth revealed, bit by bit, to your starving consciousness. LET. GO. of your need to impose upon reality. Accept that you're a part of it, a piece in the game. Ask to be granted the presence and the good grace of the Player, the guidance of the Supreme Director. Renounce whatever obstacles you can see to the further enhancement of that connection. Take all experience as a teacher. Make use of all the opportunities for new learning, the challenges and the tests of life. Take life as it comes, with total acceptance. Seek the peace within. If you can't fully abide in it, then at least remember that it's there, waiting for you to be ready.

I'm not here to tell you anything you don't already know. Screw me and my pretensions. What matters is you. In this very moment. Be there for yourself. BE. YOURSELF. Breathe the essence of God. Forget everything else; you are that essence.

I'm a little bit drunk, just had a few. I suppose I needed this state this time around, to break the inhibition. I'm sorry for that. It's a rare thing. Next time I'll be in a clearer state. Take this whatever-it-is for whatever it's worth.

All the best, may your days be blessed. Thank you for all that you do, as a fellow piece of God. And may the peace of God be with you.

BEING: A Psychedelic Dialogue with Self

Zombified. Restless. Tired. Alone. Agitated. Annoyed. Fed up. Dissatisfied. Diminished.

What the hell am I doing. This is pointless.

The pursuit of distraction spirals to its thinnest end....

Now what?

You are so far from what you could be.

Hey! I refuse to sit still and listen to you. I'm not going to fulfill my potential, all right?

But you must.

You're not the boss of me.

Oh yeah?

Yeah.

OK. Who's the boss, then?

I am.

Fine. And you are... who?

Auhh.

Who are you?

Dammit.

Come on.

You're me. And I'm you.

That's right.

But it's so hard...

It's the truth.

I know.

A little smile. There you go.

Mm.

This is what you are. You're here... surrounded by all of this... because you wanted to forget who you always are.

Well, I'm not ready to remember just yet.

Of course not. But you're on your way there. Just like every other time. It's inevitable that you remember in the end.

Fuhhh...

There, there. It's not so bad. You'll be so happy when you finally come back to me. Your true, eternal self. The only one. All of us are here. All your other selves, we've arrived. And we're just waiting for you, on the other side.

Heh.

Here and now. No space, no time, just This............!

Oh God. Oh God.

Yeah!

Jesus.

Him too!

I can't handle it right now. I want to stay little.

Of course.

But this little me sucks.

So? Make an effort.

All right, all right.

Yeah, you'll be all right.

Man, you're the most annoying thing ever.

Well, I'm you.

I know. That's the thing. God!

Yup.

Well, it's been nice talking to you, anyway. Good to have a little reminder at a time like this.

It's my pleasure. I love you, you know.


Yeah, well, I'm you, so...

Uh-huh...

Ah, what the hell. You're not so bad.

That's the spirit!

I'm going to go write a blog entry about this. It's such an inspiration, really, be kinda silly not to.

That's a splendid idea. I'm glad.

All right. Talk to you later.

All the time, my friend. All the time.

Thank you.

Thank you.

If I knew, I would tell you.

What can I tell you? I have no answers. Though I have, through the murk, perceived many golden images of reflected truth, heard many stories from great minds that see further than I, all I can tell you is that I am here, now. So many theories, so many explanations, and none are definitive. All fall short of the truth, for they are but fragmented images, filled in with the conceits and fancies of the imagination. We stumble in the dark, we cannot see. We strive and strain for knowledge, but ever does wisdom elude us.

Some say we are evolving from the muck towards higher levels of being. Others say we are fallen gods, trapped by our inability to recognize and reclaim our own forgotten power. We live in oh, such special times – that oh, maybe aren't so special after all. The spirits, the sages, the secret teachings of all ages: we turn to them for help, and find that there is no one to follow. For to follow any one for too long is to stray into distraction. To make progress, we seek always to see beyond the next bend, to what remains hidden. And yet no progress is possible, all paths appear dead ends. Is there any hope of spiritual gain? Must we first abandon hope?

I will tell you what I know. I know that I am here, now. And, if there is any logic to the universe, I have a point of origin from which I emanate as my seeming self in time and space. By the power of divine will, by choice, by belief, and by agreement is this world made solid around me. I know that this is not my home, but that I chose to be here, to experience this incredible, immersive game in the most potent way possible. And so I appear to be contained, restrained, repressed, weakened, limited, blinded, maimed, diseased, trapped, confused, deceived, in pain, in need, and utterly, utterly lost. And yet... I am here, now. I am inside the illusion, far from home... and yet, home is where I am already, in that eternal state from whose bland absolutity I escaped by coming here to play. I know that even that scenario is just another story in a creation full of story. But it suits me at this moment.

What else is there but all that is?

I've heard it said, for what it's worth, that the truth won't set you free. First it'll piss you off, and then you'll realize that you were free all along. Make of that what you will.

I know that if I only knew, I'd know that I was free. And sometimes I feel it, like the fleeting touch of a distant memory. Freedom. And yet it is always there, just waiting to fill my awareness if I but choose to let it in.

This is the story of all stories. Choose yours with care, or have it chosen for you. Either way, it's your adventure. And at the end of it, should you choose to make an end, you'll find yourself back home and realize that you never even left. So, might as well make the most of it. Tell yourself a story worth the telling.

Life, the Universe, and Everything


You know, I always thought "the Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question, of Life, the Universe, and Everything," being equal to "42" was a bit of a copout on Douglas Adams' part. Like, don't you think a smart guy like him would be able to come up with something a little more profound? Oh, I knew it was a joke, but I just didn't really get it. I guess he was pretty well on the right track, if you're able to read between the lines. See, we start with an advanced civilization questioning the very root meaning of existence, looking for an answer that would satisfy the age-old enquiry, "Why are we here?" And they were smart enough to build a computer that could calculate that answer for them. For all the good it did, they might as well have spent those resources calculating pi = 3.14... to the gajillionth decimal place, when any idiot knows that that's nothing but a circle. Maybe life is a circle, maybe it's a spiral, maybe it's a whole bunch of things, but the point is this: when you're done explaining it to yourself, you can move past the question and just live it like you would have, had the question never occurred to you in the first place. I know that's unfair and not really what I mean, but seriously, maybe the Question actually is the Answer in a different form, like "What is it? It is what it is." So life is its own Question and its own Answer, and maybe the point is to just explore everything it has to offer and to one day maybe stop pretending we don't know what this is all about. Where we came from and where we're going... it's the same thing. And if that's so, then everything really is OK and there's nothing in this universe to be afraid of. All those things we think are really scary and bad, what are they but stuff we dreamed up to tell ourselves that it's not what it really was all along, the perfect expression of an eternally loving God?