Mysticism

#324 – Now you see it

Yesterday, while taking a long walk in nature after the rains, at a particular moment, in which there was “nothing living in my working mind but a naked intent stretching into God,” I suddenly received a flash of understanding. Some might say, of revelation. I “saw”, that is to say, I understoodor better to say, I saw in my mind’s eye, and simultaneously experienced a deep sense of Knowingthe meaning and significance of a dream I had earlier this year, on the morning of February 1st.

I would hasten to add that I do not write this in expectation of any potential reader finding merit in it. I readily confess that I too, have long tended towards the sceptical bent of mind when it comes to dreams, and especially to the apparent eagerness of so many to attach great importance to many, or worse, all their dreams.

For my part, I would have, typically, dismissed my dream of February 1st, if it were not for the appearance of three, to me, particularly striking features. A disharmony with a known reality. An unusual colour. And, most striking of all, an unusual number.

The setting was inside my garage. I was cleaning the floorsweeping—along the left hand side wall (as one faces into the garage, from the opening doors). Positioned near the front of the garage, with its left hand side against the wall, facing toward the rear of the garage, was a green motorcycle.

This is the disharmony with known reality. My motorcycles are positioned at the right rear of the garage, facing the opposite way.

In order to sweep thoroughlythat is to say, behind the motorcycleI moved it out from the wall (or rather, it moved itself; in the dream, when I experienced the thought that I wanted to sweep behind the left side of the motorcycle, it moved away from the wall of its own volition, as if in response to telepathic command). In doing so, I became increasingly aware of certain details.

This motorcycle was a sports bike, generally similar in form to a Ducati 916 or MV Agusta F4. That is to say, I observed a similarity in the broadly flat upper surface of the fuel tank, closely matched in visual line with the upper surface of the tail section.

It was apparently brand new. While its shape was similar to the aforementioned motorcycles, I observed that its instrument panel was dissimilarmore modern, even futuristicand then, there also appeared to be a small thin transparent screen of some kind, unusually positioned, vertically, on the centre of the fuel tank.

Moving around the motorcycle, I observed that all the surfaces of the left hand side were covered with an opaque film; the maker’s decals underneath were only barely visible. As the right hand side was not similarly covered, in the dream it seemed to me that this motorcycle must be a brand new model, delivered with this film protecting the surfaces, and, that someone must have removed the film from the right hand side so as to display it, while leaving the film on the (hidden, against the wall) left hand side to protect it.

As I examined the left hand side more closely, trying to see the decals hidden under the opaque protective film, I rose up and noticed that a number324was clearly emblazoned on the tail section. And then immediately I awoke.

In the days following, I confided this dream with the two people closest to me. As I felt (most unusually) convicted that there must be some significance to it, I researched the two most obvious features: the number 324, and the colour green. I discovered many, potentially significant meanings and connections in Kabbalist, alchemical, and numerological literature (Chesed/Mercy/Love/expansiveness/increase, the Absolute, God’s “right hand”, our “inner angel”, the “green lion”, Metatron, 182 or “chai” (life) squared, Compass/the “Great Architect of the Universe”, etc). But in all this, I did not feel convinced that I understood what, if any, real-world significance there might be in my having this particular dream.

Yesterday, however, in a flash, I suddenly saw a plausible, and highly relevant meaning.

It appears clear to me now, that the dream of February 1st was a foretelling of The Key that I discovered in my two recent essays, of April 13th and May 9th.

One might call it The Key of The Left Side Deception.

In The Money $hot: Even Banking Is All About Sex, the key insight for all that followed, was that the Left hand side of the Double Triangle of Solomona precise symbolic representation of double-entry bookkeeping, ‘money’ creation ex nihilo, and, the “Sacred Marriage” relationship between Lender and Borrower—is the side that is subject to “magick” transformation; that is to say, it is the Left hand side that is fraudulent, “protected”, and hidden from public understanding.

LOAN-STAR-transformation-IOUs - $- Acct Payable copy

 

In Dishonourable Debt: Why Borrowers Are Not Legally Bound To Repay Bank Loans, this key insight was taken further, in demonstrating that it is the Left hand sidethe Lender’s IOU, or “promise-to-pay”that is the legal key to unravelling the entire ‘money’-lending fraud, and thus voiding all debts to all banks.

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For me, to receive understandingsome four months afterthat my dream appears to have symbolically foretold these later insights, is a most remarkable, and humbling revelation.

 

UPDATE:

Reader Kevin Moore says –

I looked up the gematria of “pentagram” Colin –
Pentagram in Jewish gematria = 324
New York in English gematria = 666

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The Green witch dressed in black

“There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz–the one who lives in the West.”

— The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, chapter 2, “The Council with the Munchkins”

https://hiddenhistoryofoz.wordpress.com/2013/01/27/four-witches-in-oz/

[More…]

 

UPDATE 17 February 2018:

While parking my Harley in the garage this afternoon – after a ride to the lake to pray and meditate – I received a sudden inspiration, connecting one of the key components of this dream, to research I am doing presently. I suddenly recalled this dream, and the “unusual” shade of green of the motorcycle in it. Only now, do I know exactly what colour it was; and, understand the profound, far-reaching significance.

A hint only to that significance here – Verdigris (“green of Greece”): a poisonous pigment resulting from the action of acetic acid (eg, vinegar) on copper; or the green or bluish patina formed naturally on copper, brass, or bronze surfaces exposed to the atmosphere for long periods of time, consisting principally of basic copper carbonate or (near the sea) copper chloride.

 

UPDATE 26 January 2019:

Was just reminded of this old post, reread it, and a thought occurred to check if any significance of 17 February 2018, re last Update event. Interestingly…

https://www.daysoftheyear.com/days/2018/02/17/

 

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Motorcycles, Nature

Beautiful Springer Day

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I wish you were here, dear, I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
the handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you’d shift the gear.
we’d find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we’d repair
To where we’ve been before.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It’s evening, the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What’s the point of forgetting
If it’s followed by dying?

~ Joseph Brodsky

Mysticism

The cloud of forgetting

One of my all-time favourite books is a 14th century Christian mystical work entitled “The Cloud of Unknowing”.

Should you not yet have read an old post of mine — No Man’s Land — then I would encourage you to do so now, before continuing further. Some things are best and most fully received in right order; this, I suggest, is such a thing.

It is not without some hesitation that I have chosen to quote from this chapter openly on the internet. For I am acutely cognisant of the wise warning given in the Prologue:

“… And over this I charge thee and I beseech thee by the authority of charity, that if any such shall read [this book], write it, or speak it, or else hear it be read or spoken, that thou charge him as I do thee, for to take him time to read it, speak it, write it, or hear it, all over. For peradventure there is some matter therein in the beginning or in the middle, the which is hanging, and not fully declared where it standeth: and if it be not there, it is soon after, or else in the end. Wherefore if a man saw one matter and not another, peradventure he might lightly be led into error; and therefore in eschewing of this error, both in thyself and in all other, I pray thee for charity do as I say thee…”

And so, with the author’s sincere urging first passed on to you, and, I trust, the knowledge of my earlier post held in memory for context, “Here Beginneth The Three And Fortieth Chapter”:

“That all witting and feeling of a man’s own being must needs be lost if the perfection of this work shall verily be felt in any soul in this life.

Look that nought work in thy wit nor in thy will but only God. And try for to fell all witting and feeling of ought under God, and tread all down full far under the cloud of forgetting. And thou shalt understand, that thou shalt not only in this work forget all other creatures than thyself, or their deeds or thine, but also thou shalt in this work forget both thyself and also thy deeds for God, as well as all other creatures and their deeds. For it is the condition of a perfect lover, not only to love that thing that he loveth more than himself; but also in manner for to hate himself for that thing that he loveth.

Thus shalt thou do with thyself: thou shalt loathe and be weary with all that thing that worketh in thy wit and in thy will unless it be only God. For why, surely else, whatsoever that it be, it is betwixt thee and thy God. And no wonder though thou loathe and hate for to think on thyself, when thou shalt always feel sin, a foul stinking lump thou wottest never what, betwixt thee and thy God: the which lump is none other thing than thyself. For thou shalt think it oned and congealed with the substance of thy being: yea, as it were without departing.

And therefore break down all witting and feeling of all manner of creatures; but most busily of thyself. For on the witting and the feeling of thyself hangeth all witting and feeling of all other creatures; for in the regard of it, all other creatures be lightly forgotten. For, an thou wilt busily set thee to the proof, thou shalt find when thou hast forgotten all other creatures and all their works — yea, and thereto all thine own works — that there shall live yet after, betwixt thee and thy God, a naked witting and a feeling of thine own being: the which witting and feeling behoveth always be destroyed, ere the time be that thou shalt feel soothfastly the perfection of this work.”

Read/download The Cloud of Unknowing here.

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General

Guilty of nothing

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The Human Race.

It is my sense that there is right now, at this very moment, more than ever before in history, a greater percentage of the individuals comprising that group whom we have grown accustomed to referring to collectively as The Human Race, who, whenever they may happen to have some “free Time”, or, when they may take an hour, or a day, to simply relax, and be Present, find themselves quickly assaulted with feelings of guilt. Temptations. Nagging doubts. That somehow, by “doing nothing”, they are failing. That there remain many goals to be achieved. Tasks to be performed. Responsibilities to be met. That there is not enough Time. And so it is, that they are assailed both with thoughts and with feelings, that “doing nothing” is a “waste of Time”.

It is not so.

If you suffer from such feelings of guilt, such doubts, such vexing temptations, whenever you pause to rest, to love, to Be, to be still, to meditate, or to quietly contemplate, then the following passage from the 14th century mystical classic ‘The Cloud of Unknowing’ may help you — as it helped me — to see the truth about “doing nothing” with new eyes.

All bold emphasis is mine.

Christ in the House of Martha and Mary;  Johannes Vermeer (1655)

Christ in the House of Martha and Mary; Johannes Vermeer (1655), National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh

In the gospel of Saint Luke it is written, that when our Lord was in the house of Martha her sister, all the time that Martha made her busy about the dighting of His meat, Mary her sister sat at His feet. And in hearing of His word she beheld not to the business of her sister, although her business was full good and full holy, for truly it is the first part of active life; nor yet to the preciousness of His blessed body, nor to the sweet voice and the words of His manhood, although it is better and holier, for it is the second part of active life and the first of contemplative life.

But to the sovereignest wisdom of His Godhead lapped in the dark words of His manhood, thither beheld she with all the love of her heart. For from thence she would not remove, for nothing that she saw nor heard spoken nor done about her; but sat full still in her body, with many a sweet privy and listy* love pressed upon that high cloud of unknowing betwixt her and her God. For one thing I tell thee, that there was never yet pure creature in this life, nor never yet shall be, so high ravished in contemplation and love of the Godhead, that there is not evermore a high and wonderful cloud of unknowing betwixt him and his God. In this cloud it was that Mary was occupied with many a privy love pressed. And why? Because it was the best and the holiest part of contemplation that may be in this life, and from this part her list* not remove for nothing. Insomuch, that when her sister Martha complained to our Lord of her, and bade Him bid her sister rise and help her and let her not so work and travail by herself, she sat full still and answered not with one word, nor shewed not as much as a grumbling gesture against her sister for any plaint that she could make. And no wonder: for why, she had another work to do that Martha wist not of. And therefore she had no leisure to listen to her, nor to answer her at her plaint.

Lo! friend, all these works, these words, and these gestures, that were shewed betwixt our Lord and these two sisters, be set in ensample of all actives and all contemplatives that have been since in Holy Church , and shall be to the day of doom. For by Mary is understood all contemplatives; for they should conform their living after hers. And by Martha, actives on the same manner; and for the same reason in likeness.

****

And right as Martha complained then on Mary her sister, right so yet unto this day all actives complain of contemplatives. For an there be a man or a woman in any company of this world, what company soever it be, religious or seculars — I out-take none — the which man or woman, whichever that it be, feeleth him stirred through grace and by counsel to forsake all outward business, and for to set him fully for to live contemplative life after their cunning and their conscience, their counsel according; as fast, their own brethren and their sisters, and all their next friends, with many other that know not their stirrings nor that manner of living that they set them to, with a great complaining spirit shall rise upon them, and say sharply unto them that it is nought that they do. And as fast they will reckon up many false tales, and many true also, of falling of men and women that have given them to such life before: and never a good tale of them that stood.

I grant that many fall and have fallen of them that have in likeness forsaken the world. And where they should have become God’s servants and His contemplatives, because that they would not rule them by true ghostly counsel they have become the devil’s servants and his contemplatives; and turned either to hypocrites or to heretics, or fallen into frenzies and many other mischiefs, in slander of Holy Church. Of the which I leave to speak at this time, for troubling of our matter. But nevertheless here after when God vouchsafeth and if need be, men may see some of the conditions and the cause of their failings. And therefore no more of them at this time; but forth of our matter.

****

Some might think that I do little worship to Martha, that special saint, for I liken her words of complaining of her sister unto these worldly men’s words, or theirs unto hers: and truly I mean no unworship to her nor to them. And God forbid that I should in this work say anything that might be taken in condemnation of any of the servants of God in any degree, and namely of His special saint. For me thinketh that she should be full well had excused of her plaint, taking regard to the time and the manner that she said it in. For that that she said her unknowing was the cause. And no wonder though she knew not at that time how Mary was occupied; for I trow that before she had little heard of such perfection. And also that she said, it was but courteously and in few words: and therefore she should always be had excused.

And so me thinketh that these worldly living men and women of active life should also full well be excused of their complaining words touched before, although they say rudely that they say; having beholding to their ignorance. For why? Right as Martha wist full well little what Mary her sister did when she complained of her to our Lord; right so on the same manner these folk nowadays wot full little, or else nought, what these young disciples of God mean, when they set them from the business of this world, and draw them to be God’s special servants in holiness and rightfulness of spirit. And if they wist truly, I daresay that would neither do nor say as they say. And therefore me thinketh always that they should be had excused: for why, they know no better living than is that they live in themselves. And also when I think on mine innumerable defaults, the which I have made myself before this time in words and deeds for default of knowing, me thinketh then if I would be excused of God for mine ignorant defaults, that I should charitably and piteously have other men’s ignorant words and deeds always excused. And surely else, do I not to others as I would they did to me.

****

And therefore me thinketh, that they that set them to be contemplatives should not only have active men excused of their complaining words, but also me thinketh that they should be so occupied in spirit that they should take little heed or none what men did or said about them. Thus did Mary, our example of all, when Martha her sister complained to our Lord: and if we will truly do thus our Lord will do now for us as He did then for Mary.

And how was that? Surely thus. Our lovely Lord Jesus Christ, unto whom no privy thing is hid, although He was required of Martha as doomsman for to bid Mary rise and help her to serve Him; nevertheless yet, for He perceived that Mary was fervently occupied in spirit about the love of His Godhead, therefore courteously and as it was seemly for Him to do by the way of reason, He answered for her, that for the excusing of herself list* not leave the love of Him. And how answered He? Surely not only as doomsman, as He was of Martha appealed: but as an advocate lawfully defended her that Him loved, and said, “Martha, Martha!” Twice for speed He named her name; for He would that she heard Him and took heed to His words. “Thou art full busy,” He said, “and troubled about many things”. For they that be actives behove always to be busied and travailed about many diverse things, the which them falleth, first for to have to their own use, and sithen in deeds of mercy to their even-christian, as charity asketh. And this He said unto Martha, for he would let her wit that her business was good and profitable to the health of her soul. But for this, that she should not think that it were the best work of all that man might do, therefore He added and said: “But one thing is necessary”.

And what is that one thing? Surely that God be loved and praised by Himself, above all other business bodily or ghostly that man may do. And for this, that Martha should not think that she might both love God and praise Him above all other business bodily or ghostly, and also thereto to be busy about the necessaries of this life: therefore to deliver her of doubt that she might not both serve God in bodily business and ghostly together perfectly — imperfectly she may, but not perfectly — He added and said, that Mary has chosen the best part; the which should never be taken from her. For why, that perfect stirring of love that beginneth here is even in number with that that shall last without end in the bliss of heaven, for all it is but one.

****

What meaneth this; Mary hath chosen the best? Wheresoever the best is set or named, it asketh before it these two things — a good, and a better; so that it be the best, and the third in number. But which be these three good things, of the which Mary chose the best? Three lives be they not, for Holy Church maketh remembrance but of two, active life and contemplative life; the which two lives be privily understood in the story of this gospel by these two sisters Martha and Mary — by Martha active, by Mary contemplative. Without one of these two lives may no man be safe, and where no more be but two, may no man choose the best.

But although there be but two lives, nevertheless yet in these two lives be three parts, each one better than other. The which three, each one by itself, be specially set in their places before in this writing. For as it is said before, the first part standeth in good and honest bodily works of mercy and charity; and this is the first degree of active life, as it is said before. The second part of these two lives lieth in good ghostly meditations of a man’s own wretchedness, the Passion of Christ, and of the joys of heaven. The first part is good, and this part is the better; for this is the second degree of active life and the first of contemplative life. In this part is contemplative life and active life coupled together in ghostly kinship, and made sisters at the ensample of Martha and Mary. Thus high may an active come to contemplation; and no higher, but if it be full seldom and by special grace. Thus low may a contemplative come towards active life; and no lower, but if it be full seldom and in great need.

The third part of these two lives hangeth in this dark cloud of unknowing, with many a privy love pressed to God by Himself. The first part is good, the second is better, but the third is best of all. This is the “best part” of Mary. And therefore it is plainly to wit, that our Lord said not, Mary hath chosen the best life,  for there be no more lives but two, and of two may no man choose the best. But of these two lives Mary hath chosen, He said, the best part; the which shall never be taken from her. The first and the second, although they be both good and holy, yet they end with this life. For in the tother life shall be no need as now to use the works of mercy, nor to weep for our wretchedness, nor for the Passion of Christ. For then shall none be able to hunger nor thirst as now, nor die for cold, nor be sick, nor houseless, nor in prison; nor yet need burial, for then shall none be able to die. But the third part that Mary chose, choose who by grace is called to choose: or, if I soothlier shall say, whoso is chosen thereto of God. Let him lustily incline thereto, for that shall never be taken away: for if it begin here, it shall last without end.

And therefore let the voice of our Lord cry on these actives, as if He said thus now for us unto them, as he did then for Mary to Martha, “Martha, Martha!” — “Actives, actives! make you busy as ye can in the first part and in the second, now in the one and now in the tother: and, if you list right well and feel you disposed, in both two bodily. And meddle you not of contemplatives. Ye wot not what them aileth: let them sit in their rest and in their play, with the third and the best part of Mary”.

~ Anonymous, The Cloud of Unknowing, (chapters 17-21)

 

*list, listy, listily – “‘List’ is best understood by comparison with its opposite, ‘listless’.  It implies a glad and eager activity, or sometimes an energetic desire or craving: the wish and the will to do something. The noun often stands for pleasure or delight, the adverb for the willing and joyous performance of an action: the ‘putting of one’s heart into one’s work’. The modern ‘lust’, from the same root, suggests a violence which was expressly excluded from the Middle English meaning of ‘list’.”

[From the Introduction to the 1922 edition by Evelyn Underhill]

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Oh long-drawn highway, how excellent you are! How often have I in weariness and despondency set forth upon your length, and found in you salvation and rest! How often, as I followed your leading, have I been visited with wonderful thoughts and poetic dreams and curious, wild impressions!

— Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol, ‘Dead Souls’ (1842)

 

Love, thy will be done
I can no longer hide
I can no longer run
No longer can I resist the guiding light
It gives me the power to keep up the fight
Love…thy will be done
Since I have found you my life has just begun
And I see all of your creations as one
Perfect complex
No one less beautiful or more special than the next
We are all blessed and so wise to accept
Thy will love be done

Love, thy will be mine
And make me strive for the glorious and divine
I could not be more, more satisfied (satisfied…)
Even when there’s no peace outside my window
There’s peace inside
And that’s why I no longer run (I no longer run)
Love thy will be done

Love, thy will be done
I can no longer hide
I can no longer run (no…)
Love, thy will be done
Thy will love be done

No longer can I resist (no…) the guiding light (guiding light)
The light that gives me power to keep up the fight
I couldn’t be more satisfied (no…)
Even when there’s no peace outside my window
There is peace inside
And that’s why I can no longer run
Love thy will be done (thy will be done, done, done…)

Love, thy will be done
I can no longer hide
I can no longer run
Love, thy will be done
Thy will love be done

Love, thy will be done
I can no longer hide
I can no longer run (no…)
Love, thy will be done
Thy will love be done…
Thy will love be done…
Thy will love be done

© 1991 Sony BMG – Martika

* I … love? … the constant backline of drums/bass throughout this track; without variation in rhythm, or intensity. That “steady state” behind the music is, I think, profoundly symbolic, and in context of the lyrics, divinely inspired.

One of the most pure, beautiful pieces of ‘pop'(ular) music … ever.

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Do you see what I see?

They say that our thoughts drive our emotions. But there are times when I think that it is very much the other way around.

For me, today was one of those days. I felt unusually powerful emotions throughout the morning; indeed, from the moment of waking from a restless sleep. Being mindful of the identity of these emotions, and, in turn, of the implications of their sudden appearance, long dormant, my mind became increasingly busy with self-examination, and conflicting analysis.

So I went for a long walk.

After about 10km, during which time I had only briefly succeeded in “finding my centre”, my downcast gaze lifted sufficiently, and at just the right moment, to notice something in a nearby field, which sight served as a metaphorical (and necessary) slap on the cheek.

Twin lambs were running eagerly across the field, to meet their approaching mother. The beauty, the majesty of this simple picture was of itself enough to liberate me from the shackles of my cogitations concerning the unimportant; that is to say, concerning myself. As my thoughts (and feelings) turned fully to this vision, leaving self-focussed thoughts and feelings far behind, the remainder of my walk was, despite physical weariness, a spiritual refreshing.

When dancing lambs and graceful ewe met in the middle, I experienced a mixed feeling of mild amusement (bringing a small smile), and empathetic affront (bringing a stab of inner pain), on seeing the forcefulness — I may even say, violence — with which the two lambs attacked their mother’s udder to suckle. It briefly occurred to me that perhaps the second of these responses arises from my upbringing, and the manner in which I was raised to view and treat the fairer sex.

Whether it is nurture, or nature that is responsible, I cannot say with any certainty. One thing of which I am certain, is that it has always felt right, and deeply natural to me, to afford the female of the species — all species, not only my own — with something that would quite appropriately be called reverence.

To treat a female — any female, of any species — with anything other than a reverential gentleness, is a concept that I find to be completely alien. Unnatural. Wrong. Not just in a moral, but in a spiritual, cosmic sense. As in, to me this is a matter of cosmic importance.

No doubt this is one among several reasons why, as mentioned in a recent post (“Before everything got amplified”), I have always felt somewhat “out of place” living in this period of human history, and more particularly, within the increasingly “loud”, aggressive, degenerative, and degrading Western culture.

It seems altogether clear to me that, for all the oft-purported glories and righteousness of the feminist revolution in the West, what has been “achieved” in actuality is almost unspeakably lamentable: a less-than-subtle, real world debauching of women.

In our grossly, crassly over-sexualised society, the marketing gurus, Hollywood celebrity machine, and avaricious bankers, have elevated onto the public pedestal the substitute image of a female “goddess” who, far from being a subject of mystery, awe, and near-divine reverence, is rather an object of thinly veiled, overtly sexual, brazen superficiality.

From every billboard, TV screen and computer monitor, we are subliminally instructed to no longer reverence woman for the uniqueness of her gender, for her femininity, her special qualities of soul, and her priceless difference, but rather, to alternately lust after, and obey her. And that’s just a male perspective; I cannot even begin to imagine the insufferable pressure — both subliminal, and overt — that our women must feel, from the age of about 7, to live up to the many conflicting, unnatural, and impossible “standards” that have been increasingly and relentlessly imposed on them from every social organ.

What for Average Man — or at least, for this average man — may once have been the Divine Feminine to be reverenced, is now portrayed instead as either mistress to be used, or master to be obeyed. For the marketers, movie creators, and money lenders, this same woman, successfully “liberated” from the drudgery of household chores and child-raising, has now been added alongside her now-emasculated male “partner”, as another “free”, “equal” wage-slave. Labouring away, every day, at a bullshit job. Another cow to be milked at the Great Western Household Debt dairy farm, borrowing electronic digits at compound interest from a bank, in order to buy more, more, and ever more “stuff” that she does not need.


You’d think Western women might have learned a thing or two from the experience of millions of women in early “revolutionary” Russia. Initially enamoured of their “liberation”, and especially of their newly-proclaimed, heretofore undreamt of sexual freedoms, only to find that their liberation from traditional home-making roles was merely in order for them to be enslaved anew; a newfound “equality” to daily labour in communist factories. And that, strangely, their menfolk no longer respected them at all, sexual “liberation” bringing only increased promiscuity, STD’s, broken hearts, and single mums. Is there really all that much qualitative difference for women in our “liberated” West? Or are our womenfolk simply too propagandised with ego-stroking “You’re worth it” cosmetics advertisements featuring air-brushed celebrity sex kittens to notice?

But I digress.

After watching the ewe and her lambs for some time, and walking onward a little way, not only my thoughts but my emotions uplifted and transformed, it occurred to me that it might be nice to have a photo or two. I walked back, and here they are:

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I apologise for the poor image quality. Alas, all I had on me was my old, and rather basic mobile phone. I happily confess to being something of a Luddite with regards mobile phones. I have long eschewed buying a so-called “smart” phone. The internet has its place. Ever-present in my pocket it is not.

On resuming my walk, I pondered the memory of mother, and her twin offspring. They brought to mind the symbolic meanings embedded in the logos of this blog, and my recent project.

As I strode lightly onward, my earlier turmoils evaporating, I became acutely aware of my gait.

Have you ever really observed yourself as you walk? Try it sometime.

What came most immediately to my consciousness, was the opposing symmetries of movement, rotating about a centre. Arms and legs contra each other, that is to say, left contra right. And much more significantly to me, upper body contra lower body.

Now this may seem to you to be painfully simple, and unimportant. But I found it quite profound.

Try walking freely, with muscles relaxed. Notice that your left arm swings forward, in concert with your right leg swinging forward. Left arm / Right leg. Right arm / Left leg. Over and over.

Try making your arm motion match your leg motion instead. I did.

Left arm / Left leg together. Right arm / Right leg together.

Awkward, huh?

In experimenting with natural versus unnatural gait, I felt deeply impressed with a sense of the mimicry, the connection that our own motion has, with the greater motions of the planet on which we live. What came to mind was an image from one of the earliest posts on this blog (“180 +/- 180”; well worth reading for its brief and valuable message, unlike this post, whose aimless rambling is rather like the walk that inspired it!). This image depicted the relative motions (notice the direction) of free air above and below the earth’s equator —

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Can you see the connection?

Free relative motions. Those of the “higher” half moving opposite the “lower” half. Rotational motion, around a fixed (yet moving) centre.

As, for the first time, I fully relaxed in my walk — mind cleared, spirit unburdened — it occurred to me that the effect of walking is not unlike that which I experience when riding the Harley. Indeed, I was struck with the impression of how many similarities, how many connections, there are between these two modes of “transport”.

Walking, there is this very evident aspect of opposing symmetries of movement; rotations, about a fixed yet moving centre. My body is the motorcycle, as it were; my sense being that, not some inner part of my body (the solar plexus? Alas, I am no biomechanic!), but rather, my soul, is then the centre about which all this motion occurs.

Riding, it is almost as though my entire Person, body and soul, is at rest; and so it seems that all of “me” is the centre, about which all of the motorcycle’s many individual motions pivot. Within the motorcycle, again, there are manifold rotating, symmetrical, and contra motions. Wheels rotating about their centre. Pistons, rising and falling, pivoting about their centre. Conrods rising and falling, and rotating about their centre. Intake, and exhaust valves, rising and falling in opposite motions. Et cetera et cetera.

In becoming aware of these symmetries, these connections, these similarities of motions in the natural realm, and also in man-made motion machines, my homeward journey became something quite joyous, profound, and uplifting. And this, I cannot help but observe, quite contra to my outward journey.

It seems I have a little ewe, and her twin lambs to thank for that.

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Before everything got amplified

This scene from the TV series Elementary moved me. Strongly.

I watched it several days ago. And yet, my thoughts return to it still.

Like “Sherlock”, I have often wondered … well, wished … if I should have been born in another time. All my life, indeed, I have had occasion to entertain this wish. This feeling, of somehow being … out of place. But it is only recently that my reason for doing so has echoed Sherlock’s.

Distraction.

As a child, and an avid reader of books, I oh so easily imagined myself living in the earliest era of aviation. Being one of those “magnificent men in their flying machines”.

In my early teenage years, a friend introduced me to the novels of Wilbur Smith. Need I say more.

The first decade or so of my adulthood, however, brought no pause for such contemplations, as I busied myself with the trappings of the world.

Witnessing the near-death experience of my older brother changed everything. My “conversion”, my “spiritual awakening”, or “rebirthing”, if you will, ushered me into the dawning of profound change, of most all my previous perspectives.

During those energetic years in pursuit of my piece of all the best the world appeared to offer, I found it very easy, natural, to focus intently on the achievement, the attainment, of many and various desired outcomes. From the immediate, to the somewhat more distant of aspirations.

I have always had a great ability to focus. To exist as in a tunnel, striving, seeing only the chosen object. For the time required, all else completely eclipsed, as though it did not exist.

From my days as a child reading “Reach for the Sky” for the umpteenth time, oblivious to calls to the supper table, to my days as a late teen road running in rain, hail, or shine, oblivious to the blared horns and flailed arms of friends passing by seeking to capture my attention, to my days as a young entrepreneur powering through 19 hour days at the office, it seems that I have always had a great natural ability to completely shut out from mind all but that which I wanted to exist there.

Perhaps the most profound change, one experienced immediately on my conversion, my transcendence to the “new life” of the spiritual world, was a tremendous stillness, or silence, of the activities of mind. To describe that bliss, I have not words even remotely adequate to the attempt.

This may strike you as paradoxical; my claim to natural capacity for focus, contrasted with an expression of joy on being relieved of all thoughts.

Not so, for I have always been a “complex person”, given to much thought. It is of importance to note that my ability to shut out unwanted thought has always been predicated on desire … on my first having chosen a particular some thing that I wished to achieve, or attain.

But on my rebirthing, I suddenly awoke from my former life, to find myself quite bereft of predicates.

Strangely, happily, I wanted nothing.

Absolutely. No thing.

I felt complete contentment.

I no longer felt desire for any thing. That is to say, any other thing. Only that which I was experiencing.

I desired no material thing.

And no intellectual thing.

Intellectualism, the power of rational thought, of ideas, it is a subtle master, and one to whom I had been a perpetual slave. Sifting, sorting, analysing, contextualising, prioritising, debating, arguing; these had long been activities, or better I can now say, exertions, of mind in which I had ceaselessly, remorselessly engaged. Nought did I know then, for I could not see, how vain, how unnecessary, how unimportant were all these exertions , in the greater and true scheme of all things.

(For it has now become clear to me, that we employ our intellectual strivings, almost exclusively, in the service of attaining material, and transient things. Goods. Objects. Status. Recognition. A higher total of electronic digits at a bank. Illusions of Safety, Prosperity, and Security.)

And so it was, oh blessed joy, what peace, a great bliss, to suddenly, effortlessly, find myself in a place relieved of these exertions! Shut out, kept far from me, almost as though with a magical, invisible force field.

Immediately, and only the more clearly in time, I saw the truth of our quest for knowledge, and our pride in acquisition, in attainment of “information” and “facts”. Of the great, transcendent value of Knowing, as compared to merely knowing. And so it came to be that not only the name of my first blog, The Blissful Ignoramus, but also the tagline, encapsulated my new perspective.

“I Don’t Know… the truth that sets me free”

Most of the time, on most topics, I don’t know.

Instead, I only “know” what someone else has said.

I don’t know, if they really know. Often they too, only “know” what they’ve heard or read from someone else.

Most of the time, on most topics, we merely parrot what others have said. And imagine, that we really Know.

I have learned, that this a very important thing to Know.

Recognising what I don’t know, makes me feel humble.

Accepting that I don’t know, makes me feel free.

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Observing when others really don’t know either, makes me feel equal… and forewarned.

Intuiting when no one really knows, makes me feel unity, understanding, and empathy.

We’re all in this world of lies, half-truths (now called ‘spin’)… together. And what a sad and sorry flock of unthinking parrots we all are! In truth, none of us really Knows much about anything.

On looking back over the archives of The Blissful Ignoramus, I can see clearly where my spiritual state has gone awry in recent years. At approximately the same time as I began to turn, in mind and heart, back towards certain problems of the world, desiring to, in some way, contribute to redressing them, commensurate with the rate of turning, my “blissful ignorance” began to fade. The clear, effortless, simple insights expressed there in aphoristic form, became the more infrequent.

I have in consequence found myself in a strange and dry place, perhaps somewhat like that expressed by St. Paul. Seemingly caught between two worlds. Unable to “have”, to “fit” into, or even to truly desire, either one. And in this neither world, that invisible force field, the one formerly shutting out the noise, the cacophony, of worldly things and my own thought processes, it too departed from me, along with my state of blissful “ignorance”.

But happily, over the past week, since those events chronicled in These Present Waters, I have again begun to experience, to Know, albeit sporadically, the experience of blissful ignorance. And in so Knowing, I have become profoundly aware once again of the intrusion, the enormous, dark, and snatching power of distraction, arising from all the noise “out there”.

It seems to me that it is only when one has experienced being set free from all the noise that goes on inside one’s own mind — when one has let go of it all, and fallen back into the deep, quiet, silent well of Living Water — that one can truly see how intrusive, how distracting from what is truly important, is all the noise, amplified, coming from “out there”.

Perhaps too, this is why, over the past week, I have most often Known the experience of that “blissful ignorance” — stillness, silence of mind and heart — while having my earplugs in, wind softly rustling, and V-Twin rhythmically pulsing through my body.

It’s the consistency. The constancy. The blessed monotony.

It’s the sound of a “steady state”, you see.

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