Together, not separate.
Everything is together. Everything is here. Everything is now.
At dawn, the mist blends the mountain to the horizon. Like a Rothko, framed in my window.
Not two. One.
Together, not separate.
Everything is together. Everything is here. Everything is now.
At dawn, the mist blends the mountain to the horizon. Like a Rothko, framed in my window.
Not two. One.
Some things need to be named. Otherwise, we go mad. Otherwise, we can't speak: to ourselves, to one another.
Some things need not be named. They belong with the caotic, with the chasm. They strip us bare, take away our frame of reference. We can barely touch them. And yet, they need not be, and ought not to be named.
If we want to attain contact with anything beyond our present experience, we need to balance both: the nameable and the unfathomable.
We won't be able to expand our awareness if we always play it safe, staying within the bounds of the concepts we know.
We won't be able to direct our progress if we surrender our aims to nothingness (or everythingness, more or less the same thing).
In meditation, we aim at something, then we let go. One, then Zero. Then we come back. And we are no longer exactly the same.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet... but if we wanted to refer to it, after losing ourselves in its sweetness, we still would need to name it.
However, we don't need to deceive ourselves by believing having a name for them means we know everything about roses. Suzanne Vega sang:
"If language were liquid, it would be rushing in.
Instead here we are, in a silence more eloquent than any word could ever be.
These words are too solid, they don't move fast enough to catch the blur in the brain,
that flies by and is gone."
Involution wants us to believe that it is not evil, that it does not involve slipping away, covertly yet purposefully, from the One.
There is purpose there: it is one of letting go, of renouncing one's legitimate power in favour of an involutionary force.
This involutionary force presents options which seem easy. Slipping does not require much energy, after all.
But reversing this process is hard. And we will all return to the One, in time.
So maybe, we had better try not to slip as much. Because the further we descend, the harder the trip back up.
Involution makes things easy at first. It says: "you can pay later; enjoy the 'all you can eat', the 'happy hour', now."
This is really trickery: duality trying to make us forget its dual nature, presenting the easy choice as the natural and convenient one.
Duality forgetting to mention the return trip. Forgetting to mention that you will, in time, need to regain your power back, and that you will have no excuse for having surrendered it.
Evolution is just what it is: an ascent. It is done in the open (at least, to oneself). It is bare, it bares one, and it takes what it takes.
You start it on your own. There is help, but only if you ask for it. Nobody forces you. Nobody congratulates or praises you. You prod and encourage yourself.
After a while, there is no stopping you. The link is there and you cannot, you won't, forsake it. You feel it is no longer a choice. In fact, you feel it was never a matter of choosing anything.
You were always going to return to the One. Even involutioning was a part of that journey.
It is simply that now, you are making the journey with your eyes open. It still takes some effort. Yet it does not feel like an effort.
Rather, not doing it seems like a waste.
Don't let yourself be tricked. Get tricked less and less.
The devil does not exist, but there are hosts of demons out and about.
The fact that One is the source of everything means that One is equally the source of good and the source of evil.
One does not differentiate. It does not care either way. One is perfectly clear about everything.
However, Two may choose not to be as clear: it may want to appear as One. Which it obviously is not. This is how a devil can disguise itself as "another side of God". But evil does not exist outside Existence, outside the One.
Two is, potentially, the initiator of every lie, of all falsehood and confusion. No lie can ultimately prosper in One, because lying implies duplicity.
In Two, in any set of Twos, lies can thrive. And they do, of late.
Disharmony disguises itself as beauty, and people childishly want to appear more attractive than they really are.
Unfairness disguises itself as justice, and so debauchery and corruption take the place of just actions.
Big empty words disguise themselves as the soul's yearnings and longings, and so people lose contact with their true desires.
Clarity is needed, to pierce through the lies.
The philosopher René Descartes, halfway between the religious Middle Ages and the rationalist Modern era, decided that you could perceive, whether with your senses or your mind, three different things:
-the res cogitans: your own mind, your own consciousness, experiencing itself. Your senses, your perceptions;
-the res infinita: he called it God. It guaranteed the potency and integrity of the res cogitans.
-the res extensa: the universe, the world.
If this philosophy was an hourglass, the res infinita would be the sand above, dropping its grains through the narrow neck of the res cogitans, so it accumulates below in the form of the res extensa.
Res infinita and res extensa are two sides of the same thing. Both immense, both being looked at by the small eye of the res cogitans. Another way of saying this is: superconsciousness and subconsciousness touch each other and communicate through a back door.
The trick of Twoness, of Duality, takes place because it can envision itself as a whole without Oneness.
Which is, of course, as any geometer knows, absolute nonsense.
Given the fact that One has no need to assert itself or fight back, Two can roam freely and thus create havoc. As much as it departs from One will it, eventually, need to return to it. There is no departing from One, not really. You can pull it off for a span of time, but that's about it.
Maybe embracing the One is a better option. Two within One.
Every need, every desire, ultimately leads to the One. It is an attempt to make progress towards one goal, which is Oneness.
Even the urge to be in or with another (another being, another place, another situation) is only a move towards the One. A way to embody the attributes of the One, of the Circle coming full circle: wholeness, expansion, completion, harmonic cyclicity.
Because we have signed in for this experience, or at least I have, we go through many instances of the opposite: separation, disgregation, constriction, cycles which run too fast or too slow. It is all so we can move, slowly (not so slowly, of late!) towards the One. The way towards the One runs through Two.
As soon as I realise this, I get a weight off my chest. I do not float away, there are still mass and volume in my world, in my body; they behave as they should, and do not weigh me down, but rather anchor me in a healthy way.
I also feel light. Oneness is simultaneously light and heavy. It is fine.