Tag Archives: consciousness

Time

18 Jun

I have four letters in my name,
Four unprepossessing letters.
I am written down in your book so easily,
So recognizably,
So succinctly,
I am impressed.
A four-letter word,
An unprepossessing, recognizable, succinct word
That can only be meaningful
In the context of human existence.

I am measured by the demarcation of long and short intervals
Etched onto the wheel of evolution
And pocketed into eras of past, present and future.
I am inexorably expressed in the constant churning of day into night
And the battering of interplanetary revolutions
Upon the temples of our own solar systems.

I am wound tightly into the cogs of the seasons
And inked indelibly into earth’s orbit of the sun.
I mark everything in your existence with a yardstick
By which you can judge your position
In relation to everything surrounding your consciousness.
I am a concept from which you can never be free.
I am the sentinel of this universe
And you are captive in my stockade.

It would be best if you made friends with me.
My parameters are set,
And although I move constantly
I am immovable.
‘Inevitable’ is my hallmark description,
My force is untamable and impossible to arrest.
I am the intrinsic fabric of this universe’s construction.
I am the framework on which the system is built.
I came first and the decorations later.
If you strip away every element of human existence,
It is only at the stopping of the clock
That dissolution really occurs.
The whole illusion is built, essence upon essence,
From the first unit of an event inserted
Into the demarcation of an interval.

Knowing all this is of no use except to help you understand
That without me existence is non-existent,
And that you had best come to terms
With the limitations I saddle you with
So that you do not leave my jurisdiction
Before harvesting the crop that can only be grown here.

For within my confines
Lies the treasure of knowing mortality.
Concealed among the chaff and husks of the harvest
Lie the sweet, edible grains of understanding and realization.
Buried between the layers of threshing and sifting
Hidden truths are to be found
That are apparent nowhere else.

And it is because of my gift to you,
That of finality and the perception of limited resources,
That you are compelled to seek the fruit of human birth
And partake of its sweetness
Before it drops to the ground
And decays,
Its value wasted –
Spoilt and unrecognized.

[Time is an extraordinarily valuable tool that longs to be seen for its true value to us in this finite paradigm. Its constant ‘breathing down our necks’ wills us to wake up and perceive the true value of life.
Short of being able to speak to us directly, it does all in its power to make us uncomfortable in the full glare of its presence. It invades our every day with an urgency in whatever form it can manifest, goading us into action to serve our own souls as best we can given the circumstances in which we are placed.]

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Light

5 May

I sink into the soft featherbed.
My weight lowers me down and snuggles me close to the soft linen bed sheets.
The feather-light down duvet whispers its warmth over me
And creeps into each and every air pocket it can find
So I am enveloped in a cocoon of lightness and warmth.
As I drift into the hazy dreams of sleep,
I forget my connection to reality,
And here, with no control,
I am surrendered to the protocols of other worlds.

Exactly when and where do I find this point at which I exit my reality
And enter this other world?
Exactly how do I access this dimension?
Exactly which parts of me accompany me into the new state?
It is so intriguing:
Realizing that I have this ability to step from one state to another
Like a magician.

I know only two keys to this locked door:
I have to shut my eyes
And I have to switch off my mind.
Only in darkness and absence of thought comes sleep.
And it is at the instance of achieving a sleep state
That the portal opens and I transform into an ethereal being
In another world.

When I come back to this world,
It is almost always that I become vaguely aware of myself in my bed,
And then I open my eyes.
I may remember the other world or not,
But I have remembered enough times to know that
I have lived in dreams.

So now I wonder.
Is it like a contrary mirror that when I open my eyes to wake here,
I have shut them there.
When I become conscious here
Have I become equally unconscious there?
Maybe the reality is that I never sleep.
Maybe my perceptions of the reality of my dreams are distorted
By the different laws operating in the other dimension.
Perhaps my experience of the oblivion I feel in my deepest sleep
Is merely the cancelling out of two opposing emotional vibrations
Of equal intensity.
Perhaps life on this inner plane
Is similar to life on the outer plane
Where sleep patterns are necessary to keep a body revitalized and replenished
But the spirit is always moving and conscious.

So then, perhaps consciousness is just a wave –
A kind of binary pulse that slips from one dimension to the next
In an irregular pattern.
And each pattern is unique to each individual.
And perhaps this pattern of being here and then there,
A slipping in and out of our own physical form,
Is like a light being switched on and off.
But the light does not disappear.
It just moves from one room to the other through the switch –
Its just that we can’t see it going through to the other side,
And we can’t control anything there.

I like to see where I am and what I am doing.
I like to be aware of what is around me,
And I do not like to be cooped up in a dark, dingy room
Feeling sorry for myself.
Light brings good cheer and understanding in my life,
And I can always feel the worth of a place
By the light that surrounds it.
What is this connection between my mood and light?
Why are the two so intricately entwined?
Why is it that the long nights of winter feel so heavy on my heart?
Is there some connection between the light around me
And my consciousness in this physical world?

Does the darkness around me echo my footsteps
In the corridor between my sleeping and waking worlds?
Does my psyche recognize the shadow of the sleep portal
In the shadows of this world?
Is the grey winter drizzle found in the path
Between one dimension and the next?

Perhaps for us, our real darkness of heart and soul
Is found in the transition from the consciousness
On either side of our existence,
And it is at this node where, for a time, we are lost to ourselves.
And perhaps this loss holds a fear, which is reflected in the physical darkness
Found in our earthworld.
When we sit at this node,
The crossing point from one place to the next,
Perhaps for a split second we cease to exist.
We are interrupted in life,
And we are separated from that which defines our existence:
The consciousness of light!
Perhaps it is the perception of light on all levels
That defines us as living.
Perhaps the secret of life is being able to be aware of light.
Perhaps light is the life force
That burns its way through our eyelids
And reflects itself into the retina of our eyes,
Nudging the mind into movement
And stirring our souls into breath.

Perhaps light is, by definition, life
And the ability to be conscious of it and unconscious of it
The duality of existence.

[Light is energy, a force whose inception cannot be pinpointed or discovered. It is more intrinsic to being than breathing. Our consciousness is an expression of light. Perhaps the more sophisticated our consciousness becomes the more light we are able to perceive. And as we grow in this super conscious ability, the less darkness there is in our direct experience, until at last, everything is light and we become so absorbed in that light that we become that light. And perhaps, it is at that point that we can say we have found and experienced God.]

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