If you are an immortal being
living through a succession of mortal lifetimes, why can’t you
remember your past? If we’re all in control of our own destinies, how
and why have we decided to forget?
Where do you go when you’re asleep? How
do you ‘go to sleep’? Are you the same person when you wake up? Can
you remember who you were yesterday? How much of your own childhood do
you remember? How much of last month – last year?
Have you ever experienced anything you wanted to forget? Have you ever wished you could start your life all over – with a blank slate?
If I want to remember my previous lives, I must explore memory itself to pass through the waters of forgetfulness and reach the dawn of illumination. I must expand and refine my recollections of this life, sorting truth from accretion and memory from fantasy. I must divine for truth as a dowser divines for hidden water or minerals.
I must
learn how to tell truth from falsehood, illusion and self-delusion –
and continually practice this art, by being my harshest critic and
taskmaster and my most compassionate mentor and friend. I must develop a
very sensitive bullshit detector and an expansive sense of empathy for
the blind sleepwalkers all around me.
I can’t
expect the world to make much impression on me if I’m living a
half-waking dream all my life – if the reality revealed by my senses is
always passing me by, drowned out by the incessant commentary always
running through my mind. I have to be certain I’m awake to know I’m not
dreaming a vivid fantasy.
I have to be here now
if I want to actually experience my life. I have to be mindful of
what’s really happening inside me and all around me. To do that, I have
to stop my thoughts, or alternately separate my self from the
eternal chatter of the surface veneer of my identity - the acculturated
monkey mind and emotions that have grown with me since I was swimming
in my mother’s womb.
I have to
find a deeper wellspring within, beyond the unending entertainments
that distract me from life itself. I have to silence the chatter or
remove myself from its internal influence, by locating my self in the
centre of the eternal cyclone of thought and emotion.
I have to know who it is who goes to sleep and wakes up every night and every day.
I have to know the true meaning of the word ‘meditation’, which has nothing whatever to do with thinking. I have to find out who it is that’s doing all the thinking – or being distracted by it!
I
have to open my mind to all the things that the purblind natives of
this dawning New Millennium deny and exclude from their blinkered
tunneled visions – the realities filtered out by hidebound neo-feudal
cultures that stubbornly refuse to observe anomalies, discrepancies and
outright disproof of their common beliefs and quaint ‘scientific’
notions.
If I want to have a life I have to walk away from the screen when I finish reading this and explore reality – if my memory span extends that far!
If I am not the sum of my thoughts, beliefs, habits and culture, then what am I? What is within me that survives to carry on?
Am I a projection into this four dimensional TimeSpace, a partial
expression of an expanded being, who simultaneously dwells throughout
many other dimensions as well? Am I part of something and someone that
dwells in all the hyperspaces and parallel continua that we know
exist (in implicate, interconnected conjunction with the reality we can
see, hear, feel, smell and taste with our terrestrial time-bound
senses), from the observations of physics and the realities implicit in
geometry? And from the subtle magic of synchronicity and coincidence…
When you realise your mind isn’t yours and your consciousness isn’t confined to the cave of your skull, it’s easy
to see how an apparently finite, mortal, death-bound being could in
fact be a virtual extension of something else entirely. You can access
all these realms and dimensions by expanding y/our consciousness. And
paradoxically, this is facilitated by concentrating on the smallest
things – or nothing at all.
Staying
alive and aware is a continual weaning process. Potty training only
ends in infancy in primitive societies full of throwaway people with
short lives and attention spans, whose purpose is simply to maintain a
dreaming gene-pool. Gaining complete control of your breathing,
digestive system, heartbeat, brain activity, fertility and all other
physical parameters is well within the capabilities of most children.
It’s the way out of the matrix.
Almost all
those who could have taught us how to escape the prisons of our
cultures by exploring our own nature were burned at the stake or stoned
to death by our superstitious grandparents or forebears – but the
techniques are implicit in the forms and functions of our bodies; a true
seeker will always find a way, and will be helped along by the
indivisible invisible hands of those who’ve preceded you, if your mind
and heart are in the right place. In a universe where memory is truly
ineradicable, lost techniques and memories can be recovered and
resurrected.
In our
primitive superstition-ridden cultures of the early New Millennium - in
which people are automatically taught to be suspicious and afraid of
their own bodies and sexuality – most humans don’t even know where
their physical organs are located after a decade of ‘education’. How can we expect to have any idea of what we are when we’re encouraged not to look at (or touch) our selves or each other?
How can we find our true nature (or even nature itself) if we allow
ourselves to be continually distracted by bullshit and melodrama? Will
we find ourselves in a sitcom or ‘reality’ show? Do clothes make the
woman? How’s the attention span going?
If you want
to be cleansed of unpleasant memories or the pitiful painful results
of an unexamined life and self-destructive lifestyle, an easy way is to
cut off all your sensory inputs. You can do this by staying in a
sensory deprivation chamber, by taking opiates, by going to sleep or by
dying. If you remain in a sensory deprivation chamber for a couple of
weeks your mind will be washed clean – unless you’re particularly adept at meditation - and a womb makes an excellent sensory deprivation chamber, washing you in the warm waters of forgetfulness for months.
Some philosophers suggest that if people knew
they were immortal, we’d all automatically be aware of the laws of
karma and dharma and practice the Golden Rule. But immortality is no
impediment to free will. We all have many of the same motivations to be
creative, honourable and compassionate or cruel, uncaring and
destructive, whether we have a small single life or a big multiplex one.
Regardless of whether you’re immortal or not, the same ethical
questions apply; and either way, you can’t leave yourself behind and
wherever you go, there you are, for as long as you are you. It’s
an excellent motivation for changing the things in yourself you aren’t
comfortable with – and a terrible lesson for would-be suicides.
In the folklore of forgetfulness, the amnesiac is compelled to relive
aspects of the events they have forgotten; he who forgets the lessons
of his story is condemned to repeat them. Until full waking memory
relinks the past with the future, the amnesiac is trapped in a cycle of
repetition – and hell is often defined as repetition.
Yet immortality provides a wider and deeper perspective into the connectedness of all things and beings, and this does make a fundamental difference to our beliefs, motives and actions. In the absolute centre of the cyclone, I am you, and we are Divine.
Who are you again? Are you distracted yet? What’s that over there?
Your parents and
grandparents were happy and satisfied to be lied to and cheated by
those who still get away with stealing the wealth and knowledge of the
Earth (and everywhere else) for themselves – are you?
Turn on. Tune in. Opt OUT! Find like-minded friends and work with them to free the world and free our Mind…
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