We Should Pause...

     We should pause occasionally, in complete passive nonresistance to the vibration of the cosmic river of sound and light, the Shabd, and let this primal fundamental energy of our universe nudge us gently into a better fit with our infinity.  This is surfing the wave of all energy for a moment, perhaps once a day, twice a day, feeling the bliss, hearing the billions of tiny jingling bells and seeing the silvery light.  Then our image in this plane will come to resemble the body of our eternal soul.  It takes but occasional periods of Shabd meditation.

Still on the Move

JUNE 30, 2014   MONDAY MORNING

    Good morning, My Love.

    Yesterday was a very busy day writing, reading, and catching up with social media, and walking to the store for bread, pasta, and frozen vegetables.  Towards the end of the day, I was reading a paper (at at http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/kant-mind/) titled “Kant's View of the Mind and Consciousness of Self”.  While reading, I experienced a rich increase in volume and quality of the Shabd sound current.  I closed my eyes for a while and let its bliss and light penetrate deeply into my body and soul.

    I still feel and hear the Shabd now this morning as I write this to you.  I wish I could do a better job at describing this beautiful sensation.  Every time it increases in richness and texture, I think of you.  I feel your presence.  I think you are very near.  As I do right now.

    We have been together all night.  Again we were in a house.  One of the rooms in the house was cluttered with piles of old garments that needed to be dealt with somehow.  Again, there were two or three other people with us.  The symbolism is very interesting.  It seems to be repeating over consecutive nights, in essence with only minor differences in detail.  For instance, the other night we were entering an apartment on the ground or basement level of a multilevel building (when I was maneuvering the hot metal coffeemaker through the entrance way).

    Now, in last night's dream, we were fully entered into a small old house with multiple rooms and split levels.  And we were thinking about how to get started cleaning the place up.

    I love you, Honey Bun.  I think big changes are underway for us.  Good changes and new dimensions.

Kabbalah and Eternal Liberation from Pain

JUNE 29, 2014 - Kabbalah and Eternal Liberation from Pain

SUNDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  We were together again last night for a long, fun filled time.  You and I talking in high spirits and happily with each other as we busied ourselves in activities with lots of other people.  Wonderful that astral experience was, though the details faded quickly after re-entering this current waking mode.  But it was a wonderful time for us.  And this astral experience came after a kind of epiphany I had been surprised by yesterday.

    The epiphany was a new understanding that pain and suffering does actually have a positive role to play in our spiritual lives.  It produces a desire in us to escape from the suffering and impels us to search for a way out of it.  Ultimately to rise above it.  This moves us forward in our spiritual growth and learning.  We search for and find lasting ways to exist free of the pain, which ultimately are levels of living in a conscious state above the pain, and above material concerns.  Without experiencing pain and suffering and our desire to rid ourselves of it, we might otherwise settle into a stagnate mode of no spiritual growth and even a slow decay into lower levels of consciousness.  (We see this often in the society of the decadent rich and how utterly ignorant and emotionally miserable their self-indulgent lifestyles make them after so many years of living the so-called easy life).

    Anyway, I realized during my epiphany that this inner search for freedom from suffering must culminate in a state of being which rises completely above the ups and downs, the backs and forths, the pain and pleasure and swings of yin-yang in the material world.  Our search must take us above all that.

    I have seen seeds of this idea come to me throughout my life, starting in my late teens when I began investigating esoteric literature.  The image that always accompanied my questions of how to rise above the duality of the material world was the mental picture of struggling to emerge from a deep hole in the ground.  

    The only way out of the hole was to push one arm and leg against one side of the hole, and angle the force of the foot downward a little bit against the side of the hole, which forced the other side of my body to inch upward toward the hole's opening above.  And then to do the same thing with the other side of my body, that is push with the other arm and leg against the other side of the hole, and inch the other side of my body up a little more.  And to repeat this process until the friction of pushing my legs against the sides of the hole alternately, one push after the other, eventually pushing my whole body steadily upward until I came out of the wide open brightly lit opening at the top of the hole.  Then I could stand up in the wide world of freedom outside of the hole.  

    There, I would emerge like a baby from a womb into a brand new life of much greater dimensions.

    So the epiphany I experienced yesterday is much the same thing.  Through pushing away back and forth against the sides of the world of pain and pleasure we naturally move upwards toward freedom and the light of understanding and find our souls free of the traps of materialism and the yin-yang.  

    The following is a quote which caps this narrative off wonderfully and is the cause of the celebratory nature of our dream last night:

    “From the perspective of Kabbalah, it is important that a man and a woman be together, marching together on the path of self-correction and reaching congruence with the Upper Force. By doing that, they will complement one another on both material and spiritual levels. Both the man and the woman have certain corrections to make. By making their personal and reciprocal corrections, they will come to the right connection in such a way that their relationship will resemble the Upper Force.” - Rav Laitman

    So this idea, Honey Bun, also confirms our eternal life together and the correctness of our actions so far.  Over the 30 years of our material life together, we have seen many wonderful loving lessons and corrections to our relationship which always brought us closer and closer together in love and trust and joy, and grew into an enormously powerful selfless love sustaining us continuously.  And still does!  

    So you can see why we were celebrating last night in spirit.

    I love you, Darling Wife!  See you after I’m done tying up these loose ends in the material world.  Keep the porch light on.

Dynamic Philosophy

JUNE 28, 2014 - Translating Spiritual to Physical

SATURDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  Good morning.

    Thinking about you and various things this morning, vacillating between hope and despair, I realized a fine truth: Possibilities are infinite.

    If a thing is not a reality now, who can say with certainty it cannot become one later?  

    Nobody.

    Also, we can have premonitions of things from our broader spiritual understandings of our existence because that purer view of things is spread out over past, present, and future.  But remember that these temporal terms obviously are a translation from the unified timelessness of eternity down into the “illusion” of that timelessness being separated into the three different fields of past, present, and future.  In spiritual reality the ending exists in the same moment that the beginning and the middle exists.  We humans with our limited brains break up this finer omnipresent reality into smaller temporal pieces we can deal with one at a time.  It is a translation from high reality down into physical incarnation.

    But our physical based human understandings fall terribly short of comprehending the full truth of any of anything.  This is because our pure understanding is mucked up with our physical brains which are instruments of and for a physical context.  A quick analogy might be a baby's tricycle.  It is built to exist in the context of a baby's world.  It is small and its three wheel structure makes it easier for the baby to peddle around on and at the same time more difficult for the baby to tip over and hurt himself.  But it is ridiculous and virtually impossible for an adult to use in an adult world context.  And just the same, our physical brains serve us adequately in the context of a human incarnation but they are poor vehicles for handling and interpreting understandings of a higher context, the context of our grownup souls in Eternity.

    Yet, glimpses of inspiration and revelation do seep through on occasion.  This is how some of us know to never admit defeat in peer pressure to accept the existence of death and nothingness.  Neither one of these terms represent a real state of being.

    You see, Chris, my involvements lately in social intercourse of various kinds with various personalities in various venues, have rather exercised my physical brain to such a degree that it has plowed itself into a rut of opaque distance from my spiritual understanding.  It left me feeling barren and lost.  My thinking and awareness was constricted by the tight confines of the mental rut I had dug myself into from trying to be agreeable to everybody and their various views in all the social contact, negative and positive, I had placed my mind in.

    My independent thinking became plowed under.

    Sometimes, often, we must extricate our attention from society and social concerns and reestablish our unique life rhythm and its connection with the higher dimensions which we more truly belong to.  The less prejudiced and more pure modes of consciousness where we see again our infinite possibilities.

    And then once again we know that we live and love forever and that all the worries and torments and doubts belong to the illusions of the physical brain and its contextual habit of constricting and distorting our higher understanding into patterns of temporal necessities belonging to the physical world.

    These truths sometimes get buried over in the course of daily affairs and we need to come back up to the higher regions for a breath of fresh spiritual air.

    I love you eternally, my loving wife.

MULTIMODAE NOTAE:

    I believe we choose to believe what we believe.  It is not a matter of proof.  I don't think there is absolute proof of anything.  There are only best guesses and worst guesses pertaining to our personal lives.

    Take music for example.  A self taught musician joyfully inventing a tune by ear as he is playing it for the first time creates harmonies, rhythms, and dissonances just as interesting as the most educated and rigorous composers like Bach, Debussy, and Stravinsky.  They all sound great in their own styles and contexts and they all accept their flaws as unfinished business in the process of being worked out in due course for the good of their symphonies and jams and shindigs in one way or the other.  In other words, they don’t sweat the small stuff.  They let loose and let life flow through their instruments wildly and free.  They explore the infinite universe of sound without fear, apology, or hesitation.  Self consciousness evaporates in this ecstasy.

    This is the same with dynamic philosophy which often bursts into dimensions beyond words and concepts.  Free writing, exploratory, stream of consciousness and poetic literary flights of fantasy into symphonies of ideas and concepts and metaphors that carry the author to the stars rather than follow him and his pen and where their laborious thinking determines they should go.  This dynamic free flying plunge into infinite possibilities leaves the labor for another day.  Today is for glory!

    It may be laden with errors but it produces gems of poetic and philosophic insight that later can be corralled into tamer and more manageable organization.  Especially during the rewrites and editing processes.

    It's like the child wanting to be an astronaut then growing up and becoming one.  Many fantasies, illusions, realizations, and explorations come and go throughout the child's experience over the intervening years until he or she sculpts herself into a real solid astronaut from all that living experience.  What a shame if she had lost the courage and passion to believe in the possibility of success before she objectified her goal and incarnated its reality.

    This is a kind of humanistic poetry and frontier philosophy.  It is what I rather like.

Our Thinking Universe

JUNE 27, 2014 - Our Universe Creates Meaning

FRIDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  Another sleepless night.  Well at least I got 5 hours of good rest from 8:30 PM to 1:30 AM.  But after that, none.

    You and I were together in dreams again, moving into some place through a dark narrow passage, something like an entrance into cellar level apartment in a multilevel city building.  There were a few other people with us.  I seemed to have a leadership position in our small group.

    You were at my left and a step behind me as I struggled to maneuver a metal appliance, a space heater maybe or a coffee brewer, into the passage ahead of me.  The metal was still hot from its recent use and I was handling it gingerly to avoid burning my hands.

    You were trying to assist me from behind by offering me suggestions.  I became a little annoyed because I felt that the suggestions did not apply at the moment, at least not yet, since I could not handle the heater in a way that accorded with your suggestions until it cooled off enough to touch it properly.  And I could not pause long enough in what I was doing in order to explain that to you.

    At this point the dream morphed a little bit into a situation in which the hot heater was touching a delicate white lace curtain that was hanging down far enough for its ends to rest on the hot metal of the heater.  I was concerned about a possible fire.  I actually felt the the metal burn my hand.  And I sadly noticed a slight look of hurt on your face when I spoke a bit too harshly through my frustration.

    As always this was enough to throw me out of the dream.  In the physical waking state immediately afterwards, I realized I had not been severe in my frustration with you and knew that it is more natural to experience fluctuations in moods and emotions than to pass through existence as a blissful zombie, so I did not feel guilty.  And I knew you were a very intelligent soul and had always understood this much and more about human nature, even more than I do myself, so I did not even feel a lasting regret over my tone.  But I did feel enough of a moment of regret to throw me out of the dream, which I came quickly to realize was fortunate because it was enough to brand the memory of you and me being together beyond the limits of physical existence.

    I love you, my eternal wife, my eternal soulmate, Christel.

    I think our dream clearly expresses important symbolism: first, we are still moving into a new living space in the higher realms of consciousness; and we are still together as a loving couple; there are friends with us; and we intriguingly are capable of experiencing some type of bodily sensory sensations (i.e., the hot metal of the heater burning my hand) inside dreams, which might have some relevance to the theories of astral or ethereal bodies and other dimensions of reality; and finally, the strong evidence that psychological time is rooted in the physical and when it becomes an issue in the astral (such as when I felt a need to “hurry” to move the lace curtain off of the hot heater so that I could respond to you intelligently) -- this psychological time was also involved in yanking my consciousness back to a physical mode of being, that is of waking me up so to speak.

    I wish I could do better with these descriptions.  But in the world of time, there is only so much of it.

MULTIMODAE NOTAE:

    Those who say that we humans live in a meaningless universe, and therefore must create our own meaning in the world, fail to consider that they use natural imagination to conceive that idea in the first place.  That natural capacity to use imagination is created inside us by the so-called meaningless, indifferent universe.  The universe we are integrally embedded in produced that capacity within us, whether through evolution, conscious will, or some other means to do so.

    The universe created the human animal and the brain it uses to imagine any and all the theories that the human being creates.   The universe created the human and all of its aspects.  Therefore the universe is ultimately the creator of all the thoughts, ideas, and the very will of human beings and all the meaning they usurp as their own.  The universe created all this meaning by virtue of being the creator of the brain and mouth which gives voice to it -- which is obviously for the pleasure or, if you prefer, the fulfillment of the universe.  That human and his or her words are but a subset, a tiny detail of the much more immense and eloquent universe.

    We forget that we are the product of this universe and anything that comes from us is necessarily by extension a product of the universe, including meaning and flashes of insight and love.

Office of Inspector General

JUNE 26, 2014 - Office of Inspector General

    Hi, Christel.  Good morning.  I love you, Sweety Pie.

    Yesterday was exhausting physically, as I went grocery shopping and carried heavy loads walking through muggy heat.  I was also intellectually busy taking a time consuming yet mostly fruitless research exploration through YouTube videos featuring pompous narrators who were more interested in bellowing pontifically about subjects, which they had no depth of understanding in, rather than actually sharing insights and feelings of awe about their topics.

    You know the sort, the one's who obnoxiously deepen their voices and put a theatrical, melodramatic tone in them, emphasizing the wrong words and missing the right ones as they simply follow someone else's words in a text opened before them.  What they don't realize is that no historical figure ever had such a pretentious tone in mind or in voice while he or she wrote their famous philosophical and literary works.

    I also received an email from the South Carolina government Office of Inspector General in response to an email I had sent earlier in the month.  They said this wasn’t one of the things they were set up to investigate but if I wished them to they would redirect my complaint to the proper venue.  They also asked if I wanted to remain anonymous in my complaint if they did send.  I said no, let whoever needs to know who I am (what do I care?) and gave them a fiery explanation about DSS's abusive practices against elderly people.  

    I don't want to reiterate all of those details here but the series of emails and communications back and forth, between me and the Office of Inspector General, can be found in my Gmail account.  

    Anyway, this reply to the Office of Inspector General came out of me like a flaming roar of dragon fire, denouncing DSS's potentially fatal dismissals and trivialization of older people's needs.  I suspect that, in this particular case, someone in the DSS organization fell behind in their work and to hide the fact from superiors reduced their workload by fabricating false reasons and deleting important information from computer records (as was done in my case) to cut innocent old people from DSS services because those old people were least able to defend themselves against such calculated and devious actions -- especially tired old people who had barely enough energy to breathe let alone fight younger insensitive, lazy, lying DSS workers who would stoop to such immoral measures to hide their own incompetence.

    I had you in mind, Honey Bun, as I wrote that scathing email.  I remembered the many similar fights I had had with bored little poorly trained bureaucrats in reference to your crippled condition and serious needs over twenty years of my being your dedicated and loving caregiver.  You remember my having to deal that frustration.  I could not always hide it from you.  It was maddening at times, dealing with them and their efforts to evade any real work and thought.  

    This present day reminder of those days of worrying so deeply about you and your needs and my intense love for you and my very frustrated efforts to find ways to provide you with the things you needed, this reminder of being confronted by so many heartless little minds who wished only to avoid work that would require some extra thought, as opposed to mindless routine, this reminder of these little uncaring bureaucrats whom we often had to pass through in those difficult handicapped last twenty years of our blessed thirty year marriage to each other, it so charged me up with fiery passion when writing my email reply to the South Carolina Office of Inspector General that I could not sleep during the night.  All I could do was pace, mentally, back and forth in my thoughts like a caged lion.  

    Anyway, the record is in my gmail account on the internet.

    I love you, Honey Bun.

The Birth of "I"

JUNE 23, 2014 -- The Birth of “I”

    Hi, beautiful wife.  I love you.  Guten Morgen.  It was so good seeing you yesterday and during the night.

    Yes, I am aware that people may think me a lunatic for believing you are still alive, even if only in spirit that is a form which is not perceived through normal physical senses.  You and I communicate with each other daily.  I write about it along with other various topics.

    Should I care what anybody thinks about anything I do?  I think not.  

    At least I should not care in regards to my own personal self; for what is this personal self but a troublesome doomed little temporal ego, a mistaken identity.  This ego, this personal alienated little self of mine seems to have been born as a reaction to conflicts between truth and falsehoods far back in the dawning days of my physical life, two thirds of a century ago.  

    I remember its first appearance.  At seven years old, I stood alone in our small front yard seeing, for the first time, this "I" inside me.  I was dumbfounded.  I didn't know how it got there.  I wondered if other people, if my brothers and sisters, had one inside them.

    This was around the time my father died.  I did not know what death meant.  I had been reprimanded by some adult for not showing grief.  How could I show what I did not know?

    I stood alone in the yard thinking about the reprimand, feeling strangely guilty over something I did not understand.   But it must have been a wrongness in my actions and connected to all the crying and whispering going on inside the house.

    Alone in that yard with those thoughts, I noticed for the first time that "I" inside me.  Consciousness and curiosity had been with me since the pre-crawling days of my infancy, when I noticed things outside of myself and followed them with my eyes.  But the "I" inside of me, as I stood alone in the yard at my father's wake, was new.  This little "me" was new.

    I am now in the twilight of the same life looking backward and forward.  I think my critics should postpone judgments until they see their own soulscapes.  

    I have my hand on the light switch of my tenancy here in this incarnation, preparing to shut it off, close the door, and walk away from this life for good.  

    Why should I care what people think of me or whether they think of me at all?  It doesn't matter.

    I am going home to my wife.

One Must Change to Proceed

JUNE 21, 2014   SATURDAY MORNING

    Hi, Chris.  Good morning.  I love you.

    I feel unsettled, as if I am on the move into the unknown.  The "change factor" has picked up intensity.  At least one neighbor is moving away.  She has been here many years.  This is no cause for my unsettled feeling in itself.  But I think at least one other neighbor is showing signs of moving away.  I don't like the fellow.  But still, it is another change.  Other neighbors are getting sicker.

    My easy chair has collapsed from age.  It sits flat on the floor now and will no longer rock back and forth, neither will the foot rest come up.  I still sit in the chair.  But like my body, it is decaying.  Leaning. Falling apart.

    Renovations are underway out front at the road and new construction not far down the road.  New faces are on the sidewalks.  And other changes are occurring which are no more important, I suppose, than those already mentioned.  Feather light as each may be in itself, accumulated together they seem to produce an effect on the psyche.  One of loss.  One of disappearing.  I wonder if the our landlord is preparing to sell these apartments.

    I should not let it make me feel too uneasy.  After all, such small changes are good practice for the big changes yet to come.  And one of the biggest changes will be leaving this physical world, a change I look forward to for this world no longer has any lure for me.

    I love you, Honey Bun.  You are my lure and you are my cure.  I shall come back to you on a wave of Shabd Sound Current, roaring forth in a blaze of light.

    The wave is a cosmic bath of change.  

    But in this change I am seeing a new birth of my immaterial self and consciousness, my soul.  I am still me.  At 63 years old, I am still that I AM who I WAS at 53, 43, 23, 13, 3, and zero.  But changed, as a rose changes from seed through bud and bloom then into and through decay.  I am still the eternal life that reigned, that watched and rode this cosmic wave through all that change.

    The garment of my incarnation has grown from embryo to tattered old shreds, now falling lifeless to the ground.  But my conscious soul remains, energized and renewed with new blooms of wisdom, expanding songs of joy.  And new eternal horizons appearing in new light.  This soul is your soul, my Darling, and mine.  It is our shared and selfless but personal love.  And the new horizons are ours to explore and conquer.

    I love you.  You love me.  We are this love, for Eternity.

Meditative Notes

JUNE 19, 2014 Meditative Notes

Notes while meditating: An understanding of time is crucial to life. A lack of understanding of the illusory nature of time is one of the primary reasons for our fall from grace. I must treat this subject further and use materials already at hand, such as Newton's Third Law of Motion.

The illusion of time so incredibly changes the perception of reality. It reduces our cognizance of the real world and hypnotizes us into believing in a false world of cause and effect. And so much of science is based on this destructive illusion! Not all of science but very much of it.

As important as the need is to come to a new understanding of time; it is even more important to learn the deep skills of conscious observation necessary to come to such understandings. A good place to begin is to practice "Observation Meditation."

Jiddu Krishnamurti did not use that term but he spoke of the state of consciousness I am trying to express here. He said that when we observe something, like a true or idea or sunset, so carefully and fully that we become that thing, at that point there is no space between the observer and the observed. This is true in my experience and the experience of many others, including you, my wife, when you used to paint your canvasses with such deep awareness of your subject matter.

So to observe anything from the purest level of observation is immeasurably liberating and transforming. It is good to simply watch all the things that float in and out of consciousness while meditating. Watch but don’t try to control anything. Just see what the heck is there.

So this, too, must be a focus of my literary work. It is already a focus of my spiritual existence.

LATER:

Hmmm... Is time a kind of energy we put into ideas we wish to accomplish or bring about in the physical world? For example: a shopping list, a doctor appointment, a work deadline, a vacation date; these are all " ideas" that we bring into physical manifestation by using a kind of energy that seems heavily laden with the illusion of time.
This sense of time, or illusion of time, appears in association with the physical sensation of anxiety, in varying degrees. It has also been called “Hurry Sickness.”

Hmmm... Let observation of the Shabd Sound Current happen. Just watch it happen, let it happen, do not try to catch it or control it. That will only separate you from it and diminish the hearing of it. Allow it to come to you of its own accord. Just let yourself fall into it. Listen quietly for its first sounds. Let the volume rise as you quietly listen.

Know it by allowing it to be itself. You cannot control it but you can ready yourself for it and let it come to you. The experience is intimate, very subtle and intimate, penetrating and fulfilling. After a short time of passive listening the tiny barely distinct sound becomes a roaring river of sound and light.

That is Shabd meditation and pure observation.

GOD:

Hmmm... Fractal self similarity observed at every level of existence testifies to a power of enormous perfection, incredible intricacy in and connecting everything, and harmony. This may serve as a new definition of God. It is open ended... infinite.

LATER:

On a fundamental level of life, one must tune in to what already exists before trying to make something happen. We must simply "observe" without trying to control the life we find ourselves in. We must enter passively into the ever present moment which we are part of in order to merge with it more consciously and use its energy.

In a way, we surf the omnipresent energy of life as it radiates from the center of everything, like a surfer rides the greater energy of the ocean’s power (not his own little human power) to get to a goal he or she is never fully aware of until the present blooms its completion. Then the goal has been attained.

This is a passive mode of existence, synchronizing with a greater natural energy, the energy of the cosmos, which opens doors beyond what we can conceive before we pass through them.

ADDENDA:

In regards to Newton's Third Law of Motion, which shows that all action is simultaneous and not a sequence of events following each other in so-called time, the idea of "cause and effect" loses its meaning. Instead of "cause" producing an "effect" we must say instead that "cause is accompanied in exact simultaneity with a so-called effect which is not really an effect but a correlation or extension of the cause." All the dominoes fall now at the same moment. Our human minds twist the perception around so that we can put it into an order easier to assimilate.

------------
You know, Honey Bun, I keep finding myself wrestling with the issue of my addressing you personally in letters that I publish publicly. I sometimes wonder if I should not cut the personal lines out of my writing and leave the impersonal lines in. I think that some readers might be taking the personal parts wrongly, thinking that I am "off my rocker" as it were, especially since I make no secret of you having transcended this world (which many of the readers interpret to mean "died" and exist no more).

I fear these personal salutations to you in these missives make some readers lose respect for the entire message I write about. I personally don't care if they lose respect for me but I don't want that to prejudice them against the spiritual and philosophical ideas I am working out and trying to express, which is a huge part of working these ideas out.

So, do you begin to see my dilemma, Honey Bun?

But addressing you and any other so-called deceased person in a first person to second person manner is a large part of the message, the fundamental ideas I am exploring. I don't believe in death of any real kind. I don’t believe in death of the consciousness, or individual awareness. I refuse to and think it very intelligent to refuse to believe in such an absolute stop of life.

I will accept the reality of change of incarnation, or mode of being, or vibratory intensity of being. But these things take volumes to express in words. They are very subtle and not easy to explain and defend to a group of people who, through lifelong habit and generations of social conditioning, see such literary eccentricities from an author to be indicative of insanity.

So what does one do when he wants to keep the lamp shining but it is the social convention to keep the cord unplugged from the wall? The light shining on the work is part of the work. So the wall and the outlet must also be included in the work. You, my wife, being half of my soul are a part of my literary work. How ridiculous it would be to leave you out, no matter how sane or crazy I might be.

I guess I'll keep you around, Honey Bun.

(Personally, I find it fascinating to see what any crazy author has to say).

Is talking to the dead a crazy thing? A whole lot of people do it.

If there is no real time, did the death really happen? Or was there just a temporary change in the perception of the real eternal life? Might I blink and see you as the five year old you once were on earth? And blink again and see you as I saw you when we first met more than thirty years ago? My night dreams are filled with such episodes. Who can prove our so-called time based earth incarnation is more real than our time free dream life is?

Philosophers and scientists and theologians have argued such topics for centuries and millennia. And still nobody can prove one way or the other. Just because the physical world seems so real when you're not sleeping; and your dreams seem so real when you are sleeping; neither world can prove itself the truer one. Actually, they are both true but different and we eternal souls go to and fro between each of them all the time.

Keep the porch light on, Honey Bun! I’ll be home soon.

JUNE 18, 2014 -- Rarefied and Finely Woven Souls

JUNE 18, 2014 -- Rarefied and Finely Woven Souls

WEDNESDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I know we were together in spirit last night but details quickly faded in the heat of all that has been changing in my consciousness.  Much learning to establish a social media presence and continuing my daily writings and research associated with that has kept my mind busy.  It is very similar to physically moving a household from one location to another; things are in a necessary turmoil.

    I love you, Christel.  I wish that I could express the reasons for my faith in our eternal togetherness.  I see it clearly but to prove it to a materialistic court of judges seems all but impossible.  One must break free of the anchors of words and rise freely into the much vaster world of subtle connections and free associations that are too numerous, rarefied, and finely woven to describe in words.

    Surely that Being which orchestrates the pitches, rhythms, and instruments of the symphonies of energies that are our individual lives, that one Self at our center who feels and knows the permanence of itself even in the endless changes of its song, surely this being is eternally aware of itself and its essential beingness.  Surely this is our eternal soul.

    Ehyeh asher ehyeh.  I AM that I AM.

ADDENDUM:

    The "I" is not its self portrait which it sometimes creates in its mind's eye; that is only a temporary personal image of a false self, a fabrication for whatever temporary reason the true soul has in mind.  This true soul or deep subtle “I” which only uses an occasional self image knows itself through its own natural desires and selfless love connections and how it relates to all other things, how and where it fits in with the web of all life.  As long as this love and these desires point outward from the soul and do not turn inward onto the temporary self image for gratification, the "I" in the midst of this outward flow of energy and love is the "True I".

    The "small I" is the petty "me" which is always serving its own temporal self image, the ego.  This ego is doomed to pass away with the physical body because it is the image of the body, the psychic addiction and identification with the body.  This little “ego me” is the body's false soul, forever denying the truth of its temporal mortality by diving into escapism after escapism of every kind so that it never has to look forward to its ever approaching death.

    The real soul, the "True I", waits patiently for the drama of its ego "me" to end so that it can continue its true life in Eternity.  For the True I, the ego me is just a temporary fugue to play itself out and be done with, after a lesson or two has been learned from its torturous experiences and added to the true I’s infinite store of wisdom.

    This true "I" is what loves anything and is loved back by anything.  This is our actual eternal life and love, my Darling Wife.

    I love you.  See you very soon.

Thoughts create reality: Researchers show how mindfulness can induce specific molecular changes to your genes -- Science of the Spirit -- Sott.net

Thoughts create reality: Researchers show how mindfulness can induce specific molecular changes to your genes -- Science of the Spirit -- Sott.net: http://www.sott.net/article/270006-Thoughts-create-reality-Researchers-show-how-mindfulness-can-induce-specific-molecular-changes-to-your-genes

Metaphors and Signposts

JUNE 17, 2014 -- Metaphors and Signposts

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I love you.  Ah!  Shabd returns the moment I begin this letter of love to you!

    I suppose I should make Shabd a theme today or someday real soon again.  

    But right now I feel pressed to try to find a clearer way to look at truth in language because language is a writer’s primary mode of sharing ideas with other people.  And I am a writer.

    There is an imaginary dividing line between fiction and fact.  What is fact and what is fiction, really?  These two ideas are beginning to need more explanation in context with my own writings as well as those of others.  My use of many terms are somewhat different from the traditional understandings of them.

    Should I be concerned about whether or not I am understood by anybody?  I think so, if I wish to engage intelligently with people, through written or spoken works.  Fortunately most of the people I engage with on the internet are literate and exceptionally intelligent.  

    One major reason I want to explore this subject and wrestle into some kind of better understanding, is that what we say today tends to trap us into an obligation to maintain that stance when the context changes with time.  This obligation becomes ridiculous and destructive when it loses its original context which gave it its life in the first place.  I once crawled around with a pacifier in my mouth and a baby’s rattler in my hand which was rightful to do when I was a baby.  But it is wrong to do so now as an adult.  After life moves on as it does in its constant flux, many of our prior statements and beliefs should be left behind because they were integral parts of a context that now no longer exists.

    Yet we often feel obligated to forever maintain previously stated political, religious, and philosophical ideas.  (Ask any politician).

    Do we create our own realities?  

    Many respected people say we do.  But many laugh at and scorn that idea.  Most of the detractors, I assume, adhere to some form of materialistic philosophy even though quantum theorists are increasingly shooting holes in the foundations of the philosophy of materialism.

    Honey Bun, as you can see, I could go back over nearly every word I have used so far in this missive and question its meaning.  The meaning of anything is so tied to its context that virtually every use of any single word has its own special meaning.  The context defines the word.  And no two contexts are ever exactly alike!

    I believe I have talked about this before, have I not?  

    How does metaphor rise from this?  

    Metaphor is a kind of transcendent meaning of a thing, one of a plethora of different kinds of meanings surrounding any one thing, like the many forces and particles surrounding the nucleus of an atom.  In that degree of observational refinement, we enter a different universe of ghostly entities and barely recognized forces that are real but not entirely understood and can only be spoken of in theories.

    Just so with every word we use in spoken and written language.  To really dig into the truth of any action or thing or state of things, we must go beyond the crusty level of verbal language, the level of sticks and stones where words are no more than crude signposts and primitive hairy-knuckled grunts pointing in this and that direction to turn a listener’s attention toward something, in order to see what we are trying to express.  

    We must go far below this limited level of human language.  We must go to the microscopic, subatomic, infinitesimal regions of consciousness and at the same time we must expand our awareness outward to the macroscopic infinite reaches beyond our mundane consciousness to obtain our proper meaning and context of what is being said.

    One of the most dreaded questions I ever get from anybody is “Why do you say that?”  I seldom find an answer for that which satisfies my respect for the truth.  That is why I am a writer, to go much deeper into the question than surface level speech can ever hope to go.  

    “Why” or “reasons” for anything can only be answered by reference to infinity.  

    It is not a new idea that we all live at the very center of infinity, because it has been known for ages that there is an infinite distance radiating outward in all directions around us, from each and every human being and from every other tiny and large thing in the universe as well.  We are all at the very center, as is every star and galaxy in the universe.  The center of infinity, by definition, has to be everywhere at the same time because there is an infinite distance around every point in the universe at the same time.  I reiterate: this is not new information.

    We find ourselves more confused about the details when trying to express a subject so we transcend many of the pitfalls of communication by inventing analogies and metaphors, allegories and poetry to take the place of single words.  

    On the surface level of consciousness, in the material workaday world, the sticks and stones of single words, function well as signposts to point people's attention to important events during  daily life.  For examples: Look out for that bus!  Where is the bathroom?  How may I help you?  How much do you want for it?  These are useful for temporal human instants in traditional life.

    But take a moment to think about what we mean when we say "I love you" to someone we really do love.  Think about the entirety of that relationship with that beloved person.  Those three words are only a signpost to an indefinable infinite reality of feelings, memories and experiences which are unique and understood only by you and your beloved who shares this special entanglement, summed up in those three simple words.  “I love you.”

    The metaphors to communicate this are all the love stories ever written and the poetry and music; yet still they fall short of expressing the unique reality of your own particular love story, shared only by you and your soulmate.

    You see how impossible it is to express truth through language?  Those three special words mean many different things to different people, including old couple, young couple and even con artists. We can only point to our own truth through our analogies and metaphors and allegories and plain words and just have faith that our listeners will have empathy with the spirit and essence of what we are trying to say.

    Our loved ones do.  But it is doubtful than anyone else does.

    I love you, Honey Bun.

    One major drawback of our current primitive modes of spoken and written communication is that while we might express the truth in one moment, the constantly metamorphosing of the context of the eternal moment, the eternal now, often makes a lie out of what we said previously.  Not in the eternal spiritual essence of love but in the eternally transmuting contexts of physical life and the mentality associated with that life.

    The problem most of us encounter and suffer cruel consequences over is that it makes us, the author of this spoken or written word, appear to be inconsistent when life’s continuous change carries us into newer contexts.  We seem to contradict our own previous words when we say something that, on the surface level of primitive sticks and stones communication, seemed so true in the first case but now so false in the second case.

    What the critics fail to realize is that though the words may be the same the context has changed.  And context is the primary meaning of the words.

    I love you, Christel.  Let’s get back to work, okay?

June 15, 2014 - Transcending Duality

JUNE 15, 2014   SUNDAY MORNING

    Hi, Honey Bun.  I've been dreaming with you.  A dream which teases to reveal important insights but keeps them just out of my reach.  These dreams... these astral... these mental experiences in the infinite realm of consciousness -- they are more truly life than the physical, which is increasingly showing its underpinnings as immaterialism.

    Let me just briefly try to tighten this view a little bit here.

    The Irish philosopher George Berkeley believed that philosophers like Descartes and Locke did not go far enough.  These philosophers distinguished between material objects and the ideas that represent the objects.  A major problem with this is that they could not provide a reliable account of the connection between the material objects and the ideas by which we perceive those objects.  What is observed in consciousness they believed to be only representations of the material world, not the things themselves.  

    Berkeley suggested, however, that common sense dictates that there are only two crucial elements involved in perception: the perceiver and what is perceived.  He argued that the absurd, philosophically conceived material object should be eliminated from the picture.  Only the ideas that we directly perceive are real.

    Okay, that said, let me get on with my letter to you, Honey Bun.

    In last night's dream scene, you appeared to be in your late thirties or early forties.  You were in the bathroom brushing your hair.  You frowned at me when I brought up one of those subjects even long time married couples never come to an agreement on.  Your frown cut my words off in mid sentence and I knew that you had stopped listening right at that point.

    I flared up in angry frustration because this was one of those breaks in communications between us that I felt we have never been able to bridge.  I felt that you had never tried to understand and therefore never even learned there was much more depth to the whole subject that you were unaware of.  There was a huge iceberg of context beneath this tiny tip at the top which you forever refused to go beyond.  And here you were again, shutting your mind tightly against any information I had to give about the subject.

    Suddenly I had a pillow in my hand and in a rage of frustration I hit you on the head with it.  I pulled back on the force of the swing and it only lightly landed on you, for I really did not want to hurt you. I love you too much for that.  I just wanted to express my frustration that we were yet again at this same old impasse.

    And that's when I woke up.  The violence, even if only emotional and the act even if only lightly swinging a pillow, was horrifying enough to me to yank me out of sleep.

    Why? I asked myself.  Why am I having these angry dreams involving you?  

    A little bit pondering suggested you were okay and that indeed you might have engineered the argument yourself to make me remember we were together in the astral last night.  So I relaxed a little because my main concern is to help you and love you in any way I can, not to hurt you.  I know this.  How can I not?  So there is no question on that score.  And I know as certain as I know the sun is shining in the sky that you love me.

    But still why?  This why includes a whole lot more to this simple episode than can ever be revealed in words... or in time... because any answer to this “why” will lead to another why and another why after that,  and a whole chain reaction of "why"s and reasons that will expand outward over infinity in every direction.  To undercover the reason for anything lets loose an explosion of new questions, new “why”s, each one of those releasing its own brood of questions newer still, ad infinitum.  

    Such questions and answers are like the yin and yang of life.  They make up a whole realm of being, of incarnated being, which we must eventually transcend in order to stop their nagging.

    Paul McCartney might have been right when he sang, "Let it be.  Let it be.  There will be an answer.  Let it be."  

    But the answer will have to be in transcendent consciousness, consciousness orders of magnitude above the half conscious state of duality and causality and yin yang.  The answer is the ultimate truth which reveals itself in Transcendence above the material plane.

    I think “why” is at best a thread of yarn we unravel and pull on and follow and follow and follow to the ends of infinite awareness, because the whole oneness of reality is the only pure, unadulterated answer to the why of any of its parts.  We must see its wholeness to know its parts for what they are.  A piece of a puzzle makes no sense until you see it in the context of its rightful place within the whole.

    If we are struggling and trying to force our minds to see the truth, we create friction that separates us from the real harmony of the whole universe.  All its parts are really in lockstep, from the humblest of subatomic particles to the greatest of super galaxies.  All the parts are working together in unison, in an indescribable correlation called “now.”  

    We’ll never get a spiritual level understanding until we surrender to this great correlation and let ourselves be synchronized with this infinite simultaneous movement.  So, yes, Sir Paul McCartney.  We should relax and let it be.  We should stop trying to force the issue and just observe the process.  And then there will be an answer.  Let it be.

    There always is an answer when we are patient and observant.

    Another part of that dream last night, I was holding and hugging a beautiful little girl in my arms.  She looked like a tiny precious you, Christel.  I believe she was the infant part of you which is hidden from the dull senses of the physical plane but spread out clearly in the higher dimensions where we meet during the night.

    I love you.  Let’s get to work, shall we?  We can pick up where we left off last time, copying and pasting letters into our eBook currently under construction.