Consciousness expansion

The old saw, “things come in threes” came calling last week. Upon rising on the 4th the first signal of something afoot was the now-familiar, post-seizure soreness and that characteristic jangled short-circuited sense persisting behind the veil of consciousness. The day before had been punctuated by “aura” including visions aka “hallucinations” of the sort that centuries past could get the unlucky or imprudent reporter drowned or burned at the stake. Nothing like a whiff of smoke to assure spiritual/religious compliance. What ever one can say about seizure, fun wouldn’t be in the list. That said, the condition does extend the value of altered vision. Think of a Carowinds ride, One of the positives of our post-theocracy is that accidental visionaries like me have less to worry from religious fascists.
This “this” I felt in the days following was akin to that which occurred on April 20th that I wrote about under the title, The Big Shift. Whatever “it” is presented itself more definitively and forcefully, a sense of a great change in the human-collective vision triggered perhaps by some titanic, external force. There was in fact a Mass Coronal Ejections, a solar storm, around the same time. Whatever the cause, the feeling Sunday morning was of peace and acceptance reinforced with fresh images behind closed eyes of what’s to come. At one level I felt as though I wasn’t coming “back”, a not particularly frightening prospect although the task of being forced to adapt to such a different world was, um, disquieting.
There seemed to have been a subtle, fundamental shift in the ordering of the physical world. The visions from April featuring serif typefaces and patterning akin to Edwardian decorative antique ironwork shifted to visions of a highly technological near-future. I have seen an elevated train station floating over Peace Street, all glistening polished metal, cast concrete and LED lighting like something from a movie set. Then I had to concede that the visions were bleeding into the present physical world, visible in newer products, cars especially, whose styling seemed to be from the same future. The message? The future is here. The question? What we do with it?
As I walked the next day, my head strained under the force of the conflicting energy gnawing at the confines, some fundamental shift the likes of which I am beginning to be familiar. The light that blinked on revealed the transcendent beauty and imagination of nature while at the same time the combined ingenuity of humans and their trite, artificial, manufactured world retreated to the background. The world became divided strongly into the natural and the artificial, the human artifacts strongly infused with the lusts and hubris of the makers (and users) while the natural world radiated a quiet graceful solemnity. The expertise and creativity displayed by modern manufacturing paled next to the displays of the myriad, ingenious methods of seed distribution; the sinuous parabolas of the structure of plants created by water, wood and gravity; the quiet grandeur of monumental, weathered rocks. Were there a sub-theme to the ongoing “roll-off” it would be that the material possessions which enticed so when new will soon enough be beat to shit, dented and rusted — and that is an eternal rule.
The second signal was admittedly of a sort of lightweight guy-land type that touched on the end of my automotive career a decade ago. Following Lucifer’s Flower Car, my 66 Plymouth Sport Fury convertible, being led out to pasture, literally, in Morrisville, I segued into a new mode that has less to do with kicks and convenience and more about the future of the rest of the planet. The dichotomy of thoughts as well as a test of my resolve was strengthened by the appearance of an old friend in possession of a freshly surplussed NC HP Hemi Charger bought at auction, just the proper sort of brawny American Peetee doted on my wild years. From the position of a former ardent materialist i.e. a auto mechanic cum industrial designer/ex Plymouth guy, this thing was everything the old ones were, plus. This Dodge’s refined, chiseled tough-guy exterior and precision fit and finish of the interior bits were paradoxically alien yet somehow as familiar as the darkly malevolent rumble that emerged from down there when I unleashed the monster. The fates could not have chosen a better vehicle to test my resolve than this refined beast, more like the product of another dimension or a dream sequence. I emerged with my faith broadened with an expanded view of the benefits of manufacturing. The industrialism I had rejected years ago coincided with the launch of my personal one man mission to save as many of the orphans of the publics’ buy/discard cycle as I could stuff into my life. This new emerging view of reality was forced to concede the value of industrial output although with a caveat of sorts, an insistence on the return of the scorned value of durability and quality, something in short supply in the aisles of your Walmart. We are going to need good equipment to excavate ourselves out of the morass we have mired ourselves in. The survival of humanity may in fact hinge partially on appropriate, responsible technology. I know, yeah, its just a car, but compared to the crude, dangerous models of yore this Dodge conformed somehow to the new synthesis of views. Like I said: just a sign.
The event seemed to have altered the brain and body, evidenced by a great thirst and a palpable sense of a lot of crunching of information required by the alteration of core perception. My disquiet/fear of this new sense faded as I, with no option, was obliged to simply accept the new range of visions and emotions. The planet continued to call, at one point beckoning me into the woods off the Rocky Branch Greenway. Amid an abandoned rock quarry on the NCSU campus I felt moved to commune with whatever spirits were in the immediate vicinity, at one point touching my buzzing head to the rock itself. The biggest mystery remaining was whether the stuff was welling from inside or had it been triggered from some outside force?
For reference, I felt moved to call a friend who has labored long in the strengthening Pagan/Magick Community. Charlene’s markers coincided with mine, one being that the very air smelled sweeter somehow, almost as if scented. The big news from her world was that a Pagan leader had been tapped for inclusion on a national ecumenical council, a position generally reserved for, you know, the same “accepted” religions who periodically beat the shit of of each other in the name of identical “higher” ideals. That a student of the predominately non-abstract, i.e. earth-based Magick received this honorary position was yet one more piece of evidence of a trend of unity growing as the days fluttered by. Amid the eclipse of those for whom differences justify murder and blood lust it feels as though humanity could be on a breaking edge, a new epoch for those who accept and honor the various interpretations of that certain “something” outside the physical realm, that they are simply different interpretations of the same power.
At 10 am on the 11th I was clasping hands with my Muslim tea merchant as we murmured “peace” to one another. The world seemed to have collectively held its breath while the spiritual awakening continued to bless the planet’s inhabitants, specifically in the case of the swamp preacher in FL who invoked “God” in his decision to cancel his idiotic, provocative side show. As I toted a weeks worth of groceries down Hillsborough, past Pullen Memorial, a bell-like voice voice brightening the golden day got me off my bicycle and inside a Christian church for the first time in decades. I sat entranced by this child reading from the Qu’ran until a gush of gathering emotions induced me to take my leave. As I rose, I received the third message, Pastor Petty saying what I had yearned for decades to hear from the leadership of a mainstream pulpit: “We are all one.” That brought it all home.
Here is the point: Religion, all religions, from medieval Catholicism to modern American Scientific Materialism (which fits the definition of a religion) are flawed, human attempts to give an address to the ineffable. Their collective failure stems from exclusivity, the presumption that only one view of creation can be tolerated, a parochial view as limiting and subjective as corporate branding. A fuller view of the cosmos and humanity requires that we accept and admit the value of other people and views. To see blue gives us a better view of green. A new role for religion(s) could be perhaps to begin forging bonds with the other faith if only to iron out the differences that are nothing more than distilled differences of individual’s perceptions. While humanity remains mired on the various messengers, the “God” prophets and followers cite exists outside of the conflicts, paradoxically rendering form (so it is said) to the various combatants who zealously consult that same creator to justify wreaking destruction on what the same creator brought into existence. Those of the various beliefs can and should attempt to found a new sort of faith based less on their prophets and more on that “something” beyond comprehension residing at the heart of all of their faiths, that which we call “God”, at the same time recognizing the term simply as one of convenience, a semantic constant. We have all evolved with the same mysterious organs in our brain which are inextricably, predictably and reliably linked to spiritual experiences of all sorts. Further, there are sub-cellular molecules organelles which although they make us us are paradoxically shared by every living thing. Where are the boundaries? God is God, vast beyond comprehension, rendering order beyond category, inscrutable.
This is the yielding of borders, the collapse of the tyranny of abstract orders. We are in the soup now. What we do with it will be the real test. Hmmmm. Freedom. That’ll be the real test, freedom in one corner, in the other, human-control systems. The path ahead is rocky and long but we are crossing the chasm now. The greatest hurdles are the ones we make, for instance the arbitrary and abstract categories of religion and politics, at best a predictable currency, at worst, a point of view we squeeze into for convenience often at the expense of what we truly believe.
Along with their gods, humanity must begin including people and the earth as worthy of the reverence and protection afforded by the fold reserved for the deities. To do less would seem to be a slur upon one’s God or Gods. Love the earth. She is our best hope for a reasonable future. To keep her healthy should be goal for the emerging age we seem to be shifting into, that which I am calling the Age of Magic or the Scented Age or Perfumed Age. The best advice might be to seize one’s faith and make it one’s own, obeying the best and rejecting the polluted, debased versions trotted out by megalomaniacs of all stripes. The average Abdul living in a tin hut in Afghanistan had as little to do with whatever happened on 9/11 as Joe Schmoe yomping a hot dog on a street corner in Benson. Seek similar hearts and begin to coalesce and strengthen the nascent, submerged strength of those kindred spirits who have either bided their time or are now becoming aware of what resides silently within … and without. Whatever is occurring is really big, the cusp of a Golden Dawn.

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One response to “Consciousness expansion

  1. Your timing is incredible! I am two days away from attending the Charlotte Pagan Pride festival and have started explaining in my blog the various “magical” symbols and tools that I am including in my designs. As I was setting up my booth tables this afternoon in my studio for a dry run on my displays, I happened to run across “The War Prayer” by Mark Twain, which resonates very well with my views on why we must have peace and with your comments as well. Well said, Peter!

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