The Flesh Made Word

In what follows the I that is referred to is not my personal I.

Out of the Earth I come into existence. My Primal Mother, the feminine that I love and am in awe of, drawn to with the moth's passion for light. All of my knowledge has come from She. I differentiate between knowledge and information. Knowledge is divine and instant. Information is of existence, temporal, additive and of little true value. It is abstracted from outer appearance and extrapolated, surmised, conjected. Divine knowledge is formless, instantaneous. It is Now.

As Lao T'su said 'I am nourished by the Primal Mother.'

My love of the feminine is inherent in my being. It began before I was manifested and continued when I was. My mother, my first woman. She who loved me, held me and murmured her love and fed me with her milk. She who sang to me, bathed me gently and sustained me in her loving embrace. She who told me stories and continued the dance from the inner heaven to the outward place of physicality and the beginning of sorrow.

For to be born is a great wonder and tragedy. Out of the glory of the One where I needed nothing, knew everything by knowing nothing, I fell into the morass of flesh and began to exist. In the warmth of my mother's womb the journey towards separation and the descent into ignorance, sorrow and the pursuit of that which I have left behind began. I began my forgetfulness of knowledge and the accrual of information.

The energetic is far more powerful than the physical and words have long lost the power of their origins. The love of the word is traceable to the source, the origin and beyond. The sacred sound of the Vedas is not merely a word but a reality that underlies all creation. It is source itself. In that other realm which is here and now beyond, beneath, behind this outer place of formality, is the shadowland of Myth and Chaos. It is the place/non-place where everything vanishes and appears, is both absolute and meaningless, beyond human understanding. Here is the home of the dancing Beings of the seventh heaven and beyond where words fail, for words are symbols of an understanding made formal and cannot reach into the void.

The love that is deep within the human psyche will out. Yes, there is the duality of existence and the ignorance of the dynamics of the polarity of the opposites. Yes, we are mortal and fearful of death and physical pain and suffering. Yet there is the glory of the invisible within each one of us and it cannot be denied. It may appear to be lost for a while, it may seem that we are heading for catastrophe. It may be that we are denying the truth by running into our opinions, likes and dislikes. Yet these are ephemeral, transient parts of a whole that is. There can be no denying the eternal, the universal, the absolute. Life is. Death is. Mystery is. No scientist can explain the wonder and truth of the experience of love, of oneness with being, nature, Mystery.

Of course, they will try. They will squeak and squawk with new words that have less and less power. Power comes from origin. Bozons and charmed particles are children of the new priests of the day. They carry little, if any, value. They abstract at the speed of E=mc squared into projected outer space.

The mirror of the world recreates all that is arising in the human brain. Thus the words are proliferating. The emptiness is expanding. The desperate search for value in a non-valuable world of abstract ideas and concepts is becoming ever more complex and sophisticated. The lovely people who seek community, safety, protection from an inimical universe of death and destruction are using the same brain that created the first abstraction from the divine.

With one hand I praise my friends and family, my community and with the other I am helpless against the tide of its polarity. I have no understanding that I am the creator of all that I perceive. I love the good, the kind, the beautiful and artistic that aspires to unite and empower, yet all around me I see the suffering and with the same words of like and dislike I opine my abhorrence of said suffering and the perpetrators. Perpetrators who have exactly the same human brain.

I return to the feminine for sustenance and solace. It is the feminine energy that is rising and will reshape the timeless time that is approaching. Yet this energy is not strident, not divisive, not polarising in its manifestation. It is Love itself. It sees through the ignorance of appearance and the ugliness of the male abstraction away from the divine. It knows that all is well and that only that which is unreal can disintegrate and vanish. All that is real is eternal.

The desire for peace, harmony, universal justice and love will not come about through one-sided kindness that is self serving. Only the death of my self will allow me to be silent and know that which is beyond words. As Ramana Maharshi said 'Silence is the greatest teaching.'