Visible Origami — Aug 30, 2017
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
Last night I was trembling and shaking. It might have been less egregious if I had slept the night prior but I did not. This made the disorientation much greater than it would have been. I was so out of touch that I did not even realize it was a Kundalini experience for some time. Then I started weeping in an out of control fashion. It was like being torn to pieces in every direction and… this would have been catastrophic, if the total loss of sense of self was able to impact on me but it wasn’t. I’m used to dissolving into nothing; for there to be no one there afterwards. It might have been awful for someone who expects to find themselves there after all the wrappings are removed. What was disturbing was the force of it.
The episode went on for hours and it was so exhausting that it is difficult to keep my eyes open as I write this. I fell asleep at some point last night and when I woke up this morning I did not remember what had happened the night before. I was drinking a cup of coffee when it all came flooding back. How could I not remember such an excruciating series of events for so long? Nothing like that has ever happened before. This is the third event of its kind in the last couple of months. Not since Italy has there been such an intensity of changes. I don’t remember discussing the other episodes. Maybe I did. So many things get written with such frequency around here that it can blur together. Last night was a great deal more powerful than the other ones. I’m hoping there won’t be any followups for awhile (grin). My friends are used to strange occurrences and are less concerned about them happening and more concerned about whether I am okay. One of them said to me this morning that it is incredible that I can bounce back so quickly. I guess that comes with practice… heh heh.
I’m not doing a very good job of talking about what happened and an even worse job of conveying how intense it was. That doesn’t seem important to me. Something is going on behind whatever seems to be behind the scenes and… maybe even behind that.
This is the next day and I have gotten a good amount of rest… woke up with a hole in my back, which is something that happens when I get very relaxed. It doesn’t last. All morning I have been wondering about the many, many anomalies in my life; “how could this happen in concert with that?” “How can this be present while counterpointed with that?” None of it makes any sense and the ineffable has gone to some lengths to tell me that ‘real life is not the same as Hollywood’.
When I look back on my life I can identify two main themes; one of them involves a fellow who got ruthlessly hammered by unfortunate circumstances and has been forced to make constant adjustments to continuing bad circumstances and not all the reactions of that fellow were the best of what might have been done. Some of them seem insane in retrospect but… what do you do in the five minutes you suddenly find yourself left with as the devil and the deep blue sea firm up in 180 degree quadrants and you can’t see that thin sliver of another option, which might have been there and maybe only got photoshopped in afterwards? Then there is that other theme that looks at all the supernatural saving moments… the large body of real friends and the quality of companionship on the way, which speaks to an investment made by ‘someone or something’ with skin in the game… even when it often looks and feels like your skin. I’m guessing there are more than two ways to look at your life but… generally there are two commonly recurring perspectives that come around and they depend on the level of positive or negative operating at the time.
Some days you feel good about yourself and you remember the high points that are indicative of what you really are at the core. Some days you do not feel good about yourself and you are plagued with a series of images where you are certain you let yourself down and not only yourself.
It doesn’t make sense that someone of my age, at this stage of the game would be still getting ‘deconstructed'; broken down to the basic elements and then reformed yet again. It often looks like a hyper active kid with one of those modern day psychological ailments… some combination of ADD-Autism and pharmacological distortion who is in a room with an erector set. He keeps making something that functions according to a mysterious intent. Then he tears it down and rebuilds it again, not because it wasn’t working before, or that it wasn’t satisfactory in all kinds of ways but simply because the impulse to repeat himself over and over again, regardless of the result, is too great to control. Let us say that that kid in the room is God and that the erector set contains all the components of the human organism.
In most cases in this world, people experience particular drives and possess particular objectives when they are young. These drives and objectives are fluid. People continue to experience life and their Karma continues apace and… they settle. Some don’t settle and they are forced. Some hold out against all odds and wind up in a place of seemingly perpetual inconsistency, while spiritual growth continues but is often not registered by the person it is happening to. It is very similar to what happens in the darkness of the night. A person grows in different ways but the changes are not felt for what they really are. When people settle, only trauma and critical change are left as motivators for spiritual growth. Spiritual growth like physical growth is attended by pain; Children get their teeth and it hurts. People make all manner of rash mistakes and the pain is… can be… should be, educative. People don’t like pain. They like comfort, even though comfort comes with spiritual death or at the least, a suspension, a hiatus of spiritual growth.
When we refuse to submit to conditions that keep us from the beloved then we are going to be put through whatever events and conditions are necessary to accomplish it or convince us it is impossible. With nothing being impossible that presents a conundrum. When the beloved is the ineffable it is not some version of Romeo and Juliet or Heloise and Abelard. It is a cosmic verity that the ineffable is looking for us. If we are looking for the ineffable then no man or manifest condition can put it asunder.
I tell myself that this is what it is, why particular trials continue. Until we are made fit for the union then union cannot be accomplished. It’s the rough bathing of a dedicated mother who is determined to wash the dirt of the material world from her child. That child will no doubt become dirty again. That is the nature of physical life. We either have to accept the conditions or we settle. Some of us are incapable of settling. It is something like having a dream that wasn’t really a dream and one can’t forget what happened in the event that wasn’t a dream. They were walking in a desert, or the wild woods, or by the seashore. Everything seems familiar, like you have been there before but you can’t remember when. You just know that you have. At some point in the dream you come upon a pool and you find yourself looking into that pool. It might be a pool constructed by conscious hands, or it might be a natural pool formed by changes in the Earth over some long period of time. For whatever the reason, you dip your hands into the pool and you cup the water and bring it to your mouth. You drink the water and it isn’t until after you have left the pool and its environs that you realize this was no ordinary water. In every moment that passes, your thirst for more of this water intensifies until nothing is more important than to have more of that water but… you can’t find your way back to that pool.
The memory of this pool haunts your thoughts. It haunts you as it teases you; sending suddenly clear pictures of the moment you were there and then fading like a will o the wisp, which the memory of it resembles in more ways than one. Of course, this is all intentionally manifested… much like my meeting with the man on the beach. Special pains were taken by him, or the hierarchy that generated him, to give him features that were not human; not ordinary human. His forehead was exaggerated. The compression of his features, as if there were invisible lines of force maintaining it… his body was sculpted as one might envision that of a god, caused by the character and essence of him, rather than pedestrian body building. He was immaculately clean yet he had dirty and broken fingernails. I can remember a great many features but they are for another time.
Of course, most of us know the esoteric meaning of a pool, whether it be what we remember from the tale of Narcissus, the teachings of the Buddha or the Mirror of Galadriel. There are numerous meanings and the pool in this posting is simply a part of an allegory. It need not be a pool.
I know that many of us struggle; some of us with the same constrictions and quirks of being or hard to understand karmic complexities. Some of us have unusual afflictions. All of us know the frustration and helplessness of our peculiar state. We are much alike regardless. We help each other and we help ourselves. Our situation is vastly improved if we reduce the time we spend thinking about ourselves. Everyone profits then; the people around us and ourselves, the people at a distance and the enemies we don’t make out of all those others who only do think about themselves. Yes… there’s an enigma concealed in there somewhere (grin).
I’m glad you were able to drop in today. We’ll see you over at Smoking Mirrors at some point to come in a moment that will be the moment we are presently in and the only moment that will ever be real. It is the true and unshakable knowing of this that must be accepted as a certainty before we can ever understand what is really going on; do anything about it, or permit the ineffable to handle all of our affairs in perpetuity. It’s an annuity that never stops giving.