Hidden, deep within us, is what you could call our true will or authentic spirit. It has no beginning and no end as its not of this realm but is the broad band via which we fluidly hyperconduct our awareness. In that respect the state I’ve mentioned called the Witness is like a pool of light that extends from this hidden source of illumination. It is identical with the divine, all of everything, call it what you wish and, in many ways, true worship can summed up in three words:
There it is, the hallowed Self you hear me constantly reffing (with the capital S). Much like water takes the shape of whatever it is poured within and thus uses its limits as a frame of reference to define its (false) self the illusion we sell is most convincing as this delusion manufacturers proof for the lies it tells! If that sounds a tad schizophrenic then congratulate your Self as you’ve just gained an immense hint into reality creation as we are all insane in this realm. Only the compos mentis comprehend this and choose to stroll along a Path quite different to the psychosocial treadmill the rest have been programmed to accept. Most ironic is they – so well adjusted to such immense sickness – Thunk said Soul must be off his meds. Ironic, yes?
It takes quite a bit to step outside of the Reality Tunnel you’ve been digging out of the habit of ignorance and most live and die without ever contemplating the depth of the shadow and what it keeps hidden. For example, if I were to say that schizophrenia is actually demonic possession and there are those who know this well and use it as a directed weapon for their own profit and entertainment the response you’d get would probably sound like this:
“I think we’re all a bit too old for monsters under the bed! Thats patently ridiculous. As for the whole tinfoil bit, why, that doesn’t even merit comment”.
And yet, over the years, I’ve spoke to many of the so called in sane (look at that label again and contemplate the opposite) at depth on the topic of the inside of their heads and its their honest answers and willing experimentation that were a vital aspect of fortifying my perspectives as mine is a particularly practical brand of metaphysics. For example, try this:
Next time you are facing overwhelm or stress along with a tinge of regret as a painful recollection taunts your awareness I want you to take a large, slow and controlled breath in that is akin to filling a vase. Meaning, the air splashes into your perineum then, as it fills, expands your belly and kidney region with its swell before we get up to the chest and all the way over the clavicles. Your cup, overfloweth. Then you pretend you have a straw between gently pursed lips and let the same air leave via it until there is not a drop left. Rinse and repeat for a bit. As I’m sure you can imagine there is an immense disparity of the time taken to breathe in and for it find the exit. Do this a few times and watch your mood shift onto a new style of canvas and as these interrupting forces either vanish, into nothing, or come screaming back again you ask your Self:
“Are these my thoughts?”.
Ignore the torrent of words, feel instead. The vase you just filled makes the neurophysical aspects much more potent as does the change in oxygenation via the use of the method. Keep doing this and you increase your internal resolution and thus that which was once dark and dim, covered by a thick layer of wanton ignorance and surreptitious silence on the part of the System that mentions it not on any official curriculum you may start discovering points of differentiation that, inorexably, lead to the realization:
“I am wearing the flesh, on a planet, and what I truly am is far, far more subtle and powerful than I have been lead to believe”.
This, my friend, is true alchemy and its from these bountiful riches I speak and question your internal poverty. Its why I say most are Slaves as they leap to the whims of the voice in their head they Thunk is them as well as supporting the current thing and joining in all the trends like standing on your doorstep, clapping, imitating a well trained seal and other ridiculous things in this huge Game of Simon Says… The Warrior, on the flip, still possess his natural state of being intensely curious with no limits to their thinking. Thats bound to make life interesting, isn’t it?
Now, this true will, the genuine Self, the water in the vessel – when first poured in – is sparkling and resonant hence I call it Inner Sense as its constantly refreshed like a bubbling spring. After a while it goes flat then the glow it begat starts to dim. Not long after its frozen solid and the thoughts that create, maintain and sustain this aberration will yell:
“Death to the infidels!”.
As they hand deliver hell that seems, to them heaven sent, as righteous vengeance for even daring to question their intent. And yet, on the reg, how many of these actually feel what they crave within via their texts and ritual? Very few, I’d bet. I once asked this question to a group of fundamentalist Christians and they nearly all went for my neck at the implications of our conversation when it came to reality vs expectation. There was one lone voice of reason, a woman who had lived a life that was ripped from the pages of Hell and had been told, by many medical professionals, to forget that, this and them as they’d never happen, ever again. By dint of sheer will, practical faith and her indomitable spirit she climbed out the pit, and thus, had Done the Knowledge without calling it this or ever thinking about in the abstract sense. For her it was a challenge and her stubborn bent of mind refused to acquiesce and rejected the suggestions from the donkey headed “professionals” with a swift “Return to sender” as she chose to master her energetics than be a Slave to their whims and dubious solutions.
We had an amazing conversation after she dispersed the rest with steam pouring out of their heads. What do you expect? I made the ice melt and they didn’t like the sweat as it reminded them of death which was, in the end, why they were so invested in the tale and its promise of the eternal. I told her:
“Heaven and hell are here but what we are, in essence, is a whole nother octave of resonance. But how can you can tell people who live in Flatland what a sphere is if they keep referring to a circle and fear the inner dimension?”. She nodded her head and went on to share, in a nutshell, the tribulations she’d live that seemed like a modern Homeric epic. This is why I’ve said, time and again, that only 8% of the population are capable of mastering this skill and the rest are more than content to being Slaves of a process they choose not to comprehend and thus, in the end, are heaping their own suffering upon their heads whilst looking outside of them for a savior that will never present as man is both god and the devil ergo its a question of discernment and separating the water from the milk to tell who is at the helm before you comprehend that its your mind, your awareness, your choice, your direction. Become the king of your dome or remain a servant. Its that simple. Taking it back to the mid:
You, somehow, developed a passion for spelunking. At first it was the name that caught your attention as it has quite a vibration. I mean, we know what a “spell” is but what happens when you “lunk” it? Plenty, it seems. This is how it is when you explore the Cave in your head because most are so fixated and locked in to the construction that is designed to keep their mind pointed at the shadows on the wall and their predictable message that to question this is insane. Some are cast out of the cage and into the flame and thus loose that cushion in the mid that keeps the rest plugged in and at a safe distance. A few break the chains of ignorance, ascend to the surface of this immense underground cavern and feel the sun on their face with a grin on their lips and think:
“I simply must tell the rest. Wait till they get a load of this!”. And yet, as mentioned, most wish to be correct, not content. That is quite sad, isn’t it? When the frozen water of potential is filled with loads of murky, dark elements with sharp, jagged edges that you noticed when they fell in but since became accustomed its easy to see how the threat of melting would cause regret as these pains rush to the surface and cause you, like the religious troop in question, to point the finger of accusation and say:
“Him. He did it. He is the cause of this. Stop at once. This instant, I say!” as they await the cooling comfort of the breeze of chill that habitual Thunking patterns bring as they sit at their lowest form of resonance and hate the mass tension and suppressed potential they then project some place else as a state that can happen without the flesh. Isn’t it ironic? I think it is because the so called schizo, in contrast, is out of the frying pan and into the fire as his ice doth melt and shift to gas before being condensed to water and frozen again. And again. And again. One day, after a particularly productive session in which I was testing my hypothesis that most madness is actually a lack of B vitamins and how there may be a parasitic, viral aspect that has been, hitherto, ignored at play the man in question said:
“You once said that a madman is malfunctioning mystic. Today, I had, just for a moment, a glimpse of this and it made perfect sense why you say such off the wall things with no Fs given because they’re really real. The concept that these voices in my head are literally figments of my imagination was so intensely empowering as moving them back and forth on the soundstage, changing their pitch, tone, intonation and the rest like the inversion pattern and push pull effect made me get how mind is, quite literally, every thing. And yet – its Self – it is no thing. Which is, paradoxically, everything! Ha! If that isn’t insane I don’t know what is!”.
Insane are we who step on the Path of Power because if an athlete at the blocks, awaiting his chance to sprint for a medal, is “in tension” then that is because it serves a purpose in the moment and will soon be melted as he races to his target and discharges the Pattern via resolution. Mans main problem is we hit the bricks so often, since back when, that we have loads and loads of stops and not much starting and even less recapitulation and that is akin to having a stack of winning lottery tickets on your hip and going and buying more that you refuse to check. Said like this, who can refuse the invitation? And yet, even though many are called few will chose themselves but, somehow, the broken vessels I mentioned comprehended they are not the medium but the message whilst the rest are so well adjusted to mass social sickness that I can’t help but question the intent at the helm of creation as well as its materially based agents that have never, ever mentioned in public things of this ilk as well as the countless medical professionals and research specialists that know a million and one different tricks that do little else beyond reinventing a wheel that is perfectly square as it follows the same blueprint of what initially got them into this situation!
If that isn’t outsane, I don’t know what is.
Till we meet again
16 thoughts on “Outsane”