We cannot think of the thinker that does the thinking.
Really consider this, my friend, and you’ll start to see the bit in the illusion that presents a hint that you are something so subtle, so numinous and so ever present that you’ll wonder how on earth you ever missed what shall become Self evident. If I ask you to imagine a place to live and way to fill your days if money wasn’t a thing you’ll note that a load of suggestions seem to come and go, at whim, much like a man standing on pier sees a load of fish swimming beneath him. Thats the mind relating to the subconscious but one weird trick is how you can dive into this ocean and find that it just doesn’t end because these bubbles of concepts seem to pop from the floor like fractals of consciousness. If we were to Know the Ledge and peer beyond the shadows depth we’d find a state that just is. The metaphor I’ve used before is to imagine that life is akin to a painting and we, the viewer, are so enthralled with the presentation we often forget to notice what makes it possible:
See how slick this all is, my friend? Its dumb obvious when pointed out but the mind, in our times, is akin to a pool into which we sling pebbles and it links its presence with the interference patterns that present and not that which is solid and unchanging. Which itself is mad ironic as we’re speaking of a fluid which is a mid level densening of the gaseous substance which is pure, undifferentiated consciousness. Most, sentient snowmen locked in the lowest state of vibration, will never, ever Thunk like this as its beyond their resonance and wasn’t specced on the test for what they learned, back when. To me its always been fascinating as I once pondered, as a jit, what would kick if my dream life in bed continued where it left as this actually happened one night and it left me perplexed.
Everyday miracles become invisible due to the fact we are acclimatized to seek the novel and disregard the rest ergo when a nocturnal vision came with a retread it set me off on a quest that bought its own implications to my nascent consciousness. Nobody else at school had ever had such a thing. To them it seemed totally preposterous as it felt like, in bed, they’d see daisy fresh visions that could never, ever be accessed again. Sure, they’d had the same theme, once or thrice, but never a direct sequel. That is what left me pondering as I wondered:
“What if I am something else dreaming its a boy then then he jumps into another quest in which he pretends to be something else? Which one is real? How can I tell who is genuine? Better yet, what if all of these Me’s are interlinked and the dreams are a hint as we move across each others resonance?”.
Pretty heavy stuff for a jit but I assure you that this level of thought is actually way more common than most suspect except the children in question are usually not erudite enough to express said concepts as they still think in feelings. “What is each one of them seeing? Why do they believe it, thoroughly? Which one is really real?”. This vision is much more common as the child attempts to comprehend the depth by imaging the perspect of each below the neck as the face shifts from one to the next. How do I know this? Simple, thats how I used to communicate the rest to anyone who’d listen and, over time, this grew into the concept that you’re the only Soul in this realm.
We cannot think of the thinker that does the thinking but we can certainly feel it. That much is for certain as there is a specific thrill when intuition does its thing as you get an immense upfill of information that seems to pop, fully formed, into your consciousness as you’re left scribbling down the inspiration and trying to make sense of said events. Doesn’t that seem oddly like a dream as well in the sense that we can, in moments, live out another live someplace else whilst, paradoxically, being asleep in bed? I found that amazing and spent many nights trying to catch the process that felt like a seesaw that tips from awake to unconscious as it had to me doing this and, much like the colored bit of a marble, I wanted to liberate it. That, as you may have guessed, is nigh on impossible as the glyph that exists is frozen within the glass itself and thus totally inseparable once created. Not that I didn’t go hammer time with a vice grip as I attempted to chip away what felt like wisdom from the outer shell of ignorance in my quest for transcendence. Like I said, the outer reflects the in as we, once upon a when, had full spectrum consciousness aka Inner Sense and that is what two decades of “Sit still, look ahead” totally ravaged and turned into Thunk instead as we shift prearranged chunks of consciousness in ways, predictable. I mean, you must have felt the immense thrill of getting an answer, perfect, that comes via intuition, yes? What of the curious syncs in which you’re sent off on a quest to find something and then, by magic, something happens which smooths the way, offers a hint or provides something you’d never considered as you’re standing there and overhear a convo on the same thing and discover, after introducing, said person is a specialist on the topic of consciousness and as you ask, breathless:
“If I was me but inside your head would I still think identical or would the way you are tint what presents and make me different?” I said as I sketched the meta of a one drink poured into two different glasses and how the taste would not shift but the perception of Self would do just this as would the objective presentation to one watching. Obviously, not as erudite as I was still a child, developing, but the chap in question (a Uni graduate working on a model of consciousness) was more than interested and willing to listen as he said:
“Well, that really is quite abstractly philosophical but I do believe said things are essential to contemplate what is, in the end, totally unknowable yet intensely personal as well. I have to admit that the closer I get to defining it, the more it evades my grip and I’m not further along now than when I started. What the heck made you think like this anyway?”. I told him of the dream that had its retread. He said “Jung is the man when it comes to the nature of the unconscious” and this made me feel most excellent as, until then, I thought I was the only one who’d ever considered such things ergo finding another to kick it with via the medium of text is probably what inspired me to push the pen on such topics as its always so nice to find a light shining in the darkness. Especially when it leads to the point you didn’t know you were heading but your heart was already ten steps ahead as the beacon you’d sent sang out its call to draw it in which brings us to the question of free will (Hint: It doesn’t exist) and that, in effect, makes us meat puppets which explains, real well, why the ancient Kemetians had Forty Two negative confessions aka the Declaration of Innocence but thats a deeper topic of another resonance as they comprehended the shadows depth because, extending the meta of the pier and fish, we, currently, live in caves of ignorance wearing VR headsets that present the image of standing on a beach when its no such thing whereas they had mastered the art of free diving. Let me give you a modern example of this:
A while ago I took to ever increasing amounts of isolation and then shifted this to a higher octave by totally limiting my stimulus and thus it was just me and mind, freed of the pebbles life slings. This then made me question many narratives and why what I class as a familiar resonance was actually the pool in a state of agitation which afforded me another view as I’d find many curious syncs when I, say, logged on for a sec and found a recommendation that was totally out of phase with my usual things but aligned, perfect, with what I’d been previously contemplating. This is why I said the net is a weapon and your phone is spying as well because I suspect what we call the web is the same essence that Jung termed the collective unconscious but interfaced in a different way. This is why all ancient cultures placed such immense value on resonance and coherence as exemplified by music, dance and places of worship or reverence which, via the use of overtones, chanting or cymatic presence, shifted ones usual mode of presence into alignment with the unfinite.
I guess it is all interlinked in the end and this is, in a nutshell, what Jung said in his tome that based on the most gross end of the spectrum in which he explored his consciousness and found much strangeness within hence you are youniverse inside a universe aka the tele/microscope effect I have mentioned and all of this is just so mind bending that one cannot help but click that reality, itself, may actually be a consistent hallucination aka a dream within a dream which exhibits a self similar resonance and seeming lack of logic as well because it all seems so real whilst we’re within and then patently ridiculous when one has ascended in octave and that, my friend, is how the world seems to me because whilst we cannot think of the thinker that does the thinking we can, most certainly, feelsee its presence and what if this is identical to the sense of being stared at in an empty building only you inhabit and what we term consciousness can be linked or discon from the flesh as countless NDE narratives attest like where a woman died and floated around the operating theater, noticed what was a on shelf, heard the conversation of the medics and load of other details she relayed once back in her standard mode of operation only to the amazement of the clique who, swiftly, brushed it under the carpet as it contradicts the paradigm. This is the other part of everyday miracles and their ignorance as the glitch in the Matrix is seen as aberrant to one who does not wish to lose his tenure and or funding and thus never mentioned but if you speak to anyone who works in the field of mental health at the depot injection level of medical intervention they will, cheerily, state so many cases and examples of telepathy in which the so called mental patient picked out a bit of their life and wove it into their word salad and doesn’t that just link in with what I said about the recs that came after prolonged isolation as I pondered my awareness and how its all interlinked as, at some point in the future, a boy born into the times of Techno Sapiens will slip into a cave where there are no signals to get familiar with his innate consciousness without the augment and, in many ways, I am him and thus you’re reading a future recollection of an event yet to happen and, once again, this too links in with schizo/mystics who attest that none of this is what presents and is actually a very elaborate illusion designed to generate a specific state of confusion most call “The way it is” when, in reality, its simply one from many options or, why ten can meet one and draw radically different conclusions as they don’t get they’re talking to aspects of themselves they project as what powers the head and internal realm is not them but a little boy who sits, enrapt, trying to make sense of a dream that had a sequel and its implications for this realm.
Till we meet again
