The Music and the Dissonance of the Spheres
Visible Origami Ė March 19, 2010
Itís been said that harmony is the prerequisite to beauty and Pythagoras was into harmony. He came up with the concept of the Ďmusic of the spheresí and developed it into a system, a science or a theory; as you prefer. I began to study in the occult and metaphysical sciences at a pretty early age and thatís where I got my concepts and understanding of history. It is amazing how much divergence there is between official, state approved history and occult history. Not much happened the way weíve been told and the point of that is to keep us uniformed and confused, as well as to make us accept present day injustices, justified by previous events that never happened or certainly didnít happen the way weíve been told.
Some things you canít question without fear of a prison sentence. You never get a really good explanation for this because... well, because there arenít any.
This kind of manufactured thought control is for the purpose of crowd control and also a license to steal and assume exclusivity. Itís interesting to note that nothing in Nature is exclusive in the same way. Everything works together and maintains a general balance, which is a prelude to harmony which is a prelude to beauty. These days there are no more guidelines for beauty and symmetry and the classical view is often considered passť and unhip. Some pretty ugly things are considered beautiful now and the extremes press outward by the day.
Back in the more civilized times of Pythagoras, there were deeper understandings which were shared by those industrious and diligent enough to discover them. I wish I presently lived in another time because in this one, the ruling family is King Trivia and Queen Banal and the anus is an organ of speech.
My understanding of the music of the spheres is the sounds generated by the planets rubbing against each other. Iíve even felt and heard it when in a heightened state of awareness; thank god for psychedelics. Some people donít like me mentioning these things. Theyíre quite comfortable with more dangerous and less enlightening substances but as for the hidden side of the mind and heartís potential, theyíve got too much daddy and mommy in their heads. By now theyíve turned into their parents and lay the same crap on their childrenís consciousness that got laid on theirs.
In more rarified times one wouldnít need psychedelics and if one were to be lucky enough to have the attentions of a real spiritual master they wouldnít need them either but this is a period of dense materialism and it can be very hard to see outside of it at times; not that that bothers most people who prefer the variety and pleasures of the mortal body appetites.
One thing I have noticed that is different between an altered state and ordinary consciousness is that in the former I am very aware that the ineffable loves me. In ordinary consciousness I am often not certain of that and it puzzles me. In the altered state I hear wonderful things and am assured over and over of the affections of the universe and the ruling consciousness. In ordinary consciousness I am often threatened and messed with. I wonder why that is?
The altered state is more real than the ordinary consciousness and thatís something Iím certain of and no argument will sway me; much less, the arguments of people who have no experience in these matters. Thatís another thing I find simply amazing; how people who have no experience and no reference points can be so damned sure of something they know nothing about when some of us have many years of direct experience in these matters. They might want to read this if they have the patience. It makes for a good argument and Iíve copies for those who have the temperament for it.
This isnít about getting high or being straight. Iím just setting up a scenario so that I can explore this condition; the condition where one state of mind presents the universe as a conscious and loving entity and the other generates uncertainty and fear. Iíve come to believe that there is a material consciousness that is interposing itself between us and the true version of what is. Something unpleasant has hi-jacked a particular segment of bandwidth and is broadcasting negative messages that arenít real.
Because of whatís coming the planets are in a certain relationship to each other and the music they are giving voice to is disconcerting. Itís shaking things up on surface and on deeper levels. Itís become near impossible in present time to maintain a consistent sense of harmony; speaking only for myself at the moment. I have to take steps to shield myself, which is difficult because I blew a lot of those shields away in an effort to get beyond the gravitational pull; outside the deceptive network of time and the temporal. Iím a sitting duck in some ways.
If youíre not being harassed it could be that it isnít necessary since you are already in the paddock or are wearing the collar of cooperation. Once you have the collar of cooperation on and the heplock drip line you donít require special attention and you can do your time at the Paris Hilton or in line at the social services until your next posting is announced.
Iíve become adept at a few small things and dancing is one of them and I will tell you that the dances of the moment require a lot of fancy footwork and the larger portions doesnít involve the feet. Thereís the sensation of being two dimensionalized in a forty ton press... if youíre not careful. Life has become something of an apple press. So what do you do? You keep your head down and remind yourself that you really are loved, no matter how hard it might be to feel it. Itís like a 24/7 replay of that footprints in the sand routine without the comfort of the understanding.
Itís going on two years for me now with barely a respite overall. You know how it is when you have back pain and become less tolerant of people? I donít have back pain but itís like that. Part of you wants to lash out just for the exercising of the tension but that doesnít lead anywhere except into the Valley of Self Recrimination. You only have to go there a few times before you realize you donít want to go back. You carry your wound and you hold your mud and you grow a stiff upper lip.
Iíve never seen it to be as difficult as it is now and easily as difficult to find the necessary palliatives and comestibles. I think I got put in Al Goreís lockbox with the missing social security and I can hammer on the lid all I want. The usual portals provided by prayers and chants are sealed and you can bet this is going to prompt some Jesus junkie to set me straight on why. One things is for sure, Iíll take where I am any day over anything they are hawking because that is another collar of control and heplock drip line only itís got big hair and a gold watch.
Iím not meaning to depress you folks out there but merely to articulate what I think a lot of us are feeling so that you donít feel like the Lone Ranger. Weíll get through this I donít doubt but it does appear that what we have been anticipating and in some cases dreading has finally made its way to the Ďany day nowí demographic.
I wish I could offer you shelter from the storm but thatís not my department. My department is to tell you that there is one even if I can hardly see it much of late. I know itís there because I have seen it and some things you have to take on faith and this is one of those times. Whatever is going into operation is relevant to those it applies to.
Sometimes when you are digging you hit a layer of rock. Thereís no telling how deep it runs but you have to bore through it cause thatís how it is. The hardest thing in the world is to keep going when the highway feels too long. You could fall down and die by the side... and some do or... you can keep on keeping on and that seems to be the mindset of the day and it is damn well going to be in place tomorrow too and the day after that and the day after that. Iíll see you up the road.
The Tangled Woods
Last updated 21/03/2010