Chapter 2. Exegesis part 1. Purgation.

In the excerpt below he describes a very advanced mystical experience. By way of commentary, I would like to point out that there exists an “Ah” meditation. It comes from the secretive Tamil Nadu tradition; it was first taught in the West by Dr. Baskaran Pillai, or Sri Guruji Pillai. He called it a “revelation of Master Siddha Nandi.” It brings the Kundalini energy up from the second chakra to the Third Eye. Joseph Campbell describes Nandi as follows: “Shiva’s animal vehicle was the white bull Nandi, whose gentle form is a prominent figure in all of his temples (p. 63, Oriental Mythology). Campbell compares the bull of Shiva with the bull of Ptah, in Egypt, saying that the analogy “is enlarged still further when it is realized that the reference of both symbolic systems is to the mystery of the god who is transcendent (the Self before it said ‘I’) yet simultaneously immanent (the Self, split in two, begetting the universe,” p. 90.) Be all that as it may, it is from Nandi, the bull that the “Ah” meditation was received, in the form in which it was taught in America and Europe—by Sri Guruji Pillai and Wayne Dwyer, whom he taught it to. But this was long after the transcendent experience below. However, the Tamil is a very old tradition.

I would also like to quote a relevant passage from “Art & Life,” by Milton Klonsky, in 1974, in an entirely different tone. This essay, however, hides deep content in every passage:

References:
Campbell, J. (1963/1991). The Masks of God: Oriental Mythology. London: Arkana.
Klonsky, M. (April 1974). American Review: The Magazine of New Writing. No. 20. New York: Bantam Books.

Jump to...

• Chapter Two : Exegesis Part One, Purgation

• Chapter Three: Exegesis Part Two, Isolation in Limbo

• Beyond the White: Exegesis Part Three, Circumincession of the Trinity of Being

• Chapter Four: Exegesis Part Four, The Paradise Event

• Chapter Five: Exegesis Part Five, The Dark Side

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

Exegesis Part One

It was approximately 6.45 p.m. when a friend called me on the telephone to enquire if I would like to go over to his place for a few games of chess. I explained to him that I was baby sitting as my wife had just gone out for the evening with friends and would not be back until quite late. I was just on the verge of inviting him over to my place when, without thinking, I said that I would give it a miss tonight and simply have a bath and an early night. I did not know why I had said that, for I do not usually talk without thinking as to what I am going to say. I did quite fancy the idea of a few games of chess and rarely ever turned down the opportunity. Nevertheless, having said it I let it ride.

The two youngsters were tucked up for the night and the paraphernalia of childhood joy was tidied up as I sat down at about 7 p.m. I had just placed a couple of large logs on the fire and put a record on the machine at random with the intent of a few minutes peace and quiet before going up for a bath. If I had known in advance as to what was going to transpire over the course of the next three hours I would have employed a baby sitter and a witness as to my own physical condition for the duration of that period of time.

Thus it was that at approximately 7 p.m. on a late winter/early spring evening I, a mere ignoramus of twenty four years of age, sat down for a few minutes to read the paper and listen to a record prior to having a bath and an early night. Just as I sat down in the chair in front of the fire our old cat jumped up on to my lap. It took me by surprise for I had not seen it coming and thus the thought of leaning over for the newspaper went right out of my mind. I made a fuss of the cat as it rolled over into the well of my lap with its legs pointing skyward. As I stroked its belly it gave out a purr that was almost as loud as a car engine revving, and fit to rock the chair we were sitting in. I smiled and wondered how they did it, and why. I continued to make a fuss of the cat without any further thought of reading the paper. In so doing I suddenly became aware of the record which I had put on simply for background music.

It turned out to be the last part of the Enigma Variations which was to be followed later by the Fantasia on a theme of Thomas Tallis by Vaughan Williams (how ironic are those two titles; fantasia and enigma indeed). At that time neither of those pieces were favourites of mine, it just happened to be the record I pulled out. The music began to sound like nothing I had ever heard before or since.

It was as though the music was trying to make me aware of IT. It permeated my consciousness in ways that words cannot describe. I had a fleeting thought; one of those unsolicited ‘pop in’ thoughts which said “sod the paper, listen to the music old son”; and I thought, “Yeah... this is good” ! In today’s language I suppose we would say that the music was reaching parts that no other Largo could get to. I had always loved music, music of all kinds, for it all had its time, place, and mood; but this was more than mere music, more than mere sound. I relaxed back into the rocking chair with the cat still purring away like a traction engine on my lap, although the sound was becoming drowned into the distance by the beauty of the music, when suddenly, something very strange occurred; and the beginning of I knew not what.

Instead of relaxing it was as though my concentration was becoming focused, so sharp; like a narrow beam of pointed conscious awareness focusing and concentrating like I had never done before; even in the midst of chess problems during a good game, and that alone is concentration enough, but this was more so. The music had reached a degree of profound beauty which I had never known or thought could have existed. In so attaining I somehow relaxed into it, a kind of letting go of objective observation. I gave a kind of unusual sigh and an outward exhalation of breath like a long AHH; and just as I did so — everything vanished, instantaneously, just like creation being switched off by the throw of a switch. There was no room, no cat, no sound of the fire burning or the clock ticking; no cats purring, no chair, no body, no weight, no mass, no heat or cold, no gravity, no up or down or this way or that way; there was just total blackness and the sound of the music which was passing through my consciousness in waves. This is not a poetic description of my listening to the music, it is literal.

At the very instant of ‘going’ it was as though my ears had been turned inside out; for at one instant the music was objective, on the outside, and the next instant it was taking place ‘all around’, for there was no inside and outside as such. Nevertheless it was as though the music was passing through the point (which I was) like waves on a pond and each wave was of greater emotional charge than the one before it; as though each wave was preparing me for the next wave, and building up into... into I did not know what. In some respects it was like being kidnapped by divine music, perfection; the only thing that existed in creation was myself and the music.

It was as though the ‘AHH’ was still going on but going on in the vastness of the space of the mind alone. It become a reality in which there was no dualistic reference between myself and music, but as though there was only ‘I AM the music’ in a dance, a swoon, of excitement, awe, and wonder. After an immeasurable duration of time that piece of music ended, and there was a stillness and quiet as cannot be described. I did not question (at that point) that I had no body or existence other than awareness of being. Neither would I have had the time to think of such things for the next piece of music began. To say that the next piece of music began is the understatement of all time. It did not begin, it flowed. It flowed out of nothingness, like... like I know not what.

Within a few seconds of the music emanating into my consciousness there came the most frightening experience I have ever known in my life, before or since. The passion and beauty of the sounds were such that my mind went... bang ! I blew up, fell apart, exploded, or so it seemed. As I did so I could see, I had vision, I was no longer in total blackness listening to the music for I could see myself exploding and expanding.

It seemed to be like the big bang itself. I could still hear the music, and it was just as well that I could for my mind clung to the sound to try and quell the fear and panic which was taking place. I could see what can only be described as streaked out dots of light which I was expanding into and flying through like a supernova. It was like I did not even have time to be frightened, even though I was. I was somehow trying to turn the eyes which I had away from the rushing lights and the vision of this expansion and concentrate upon the music. But those eyes (heaven only knows as to with what one could see — but see one could) were eyes that we cannot open or close by our own volition; one could not switch the vision or the experience off. Just as I thought I was going to expand into infinity and fade away into nothingness the expansion stopped. My mind gradually stopped expanding and I metaphorically gave a sigh of relief; but there was no breath or lungs with which to do it. At that point it was as if I were in a kind of unbounded dome of blackness, and I consisted of nothing except a point of consciousness with no boundary or duration, no form; just consciousness. I could see what appeared to be tiny points of light coming into and out of existence all over the space which I existed within. Much like the vision one would get with ones eyes nearly closed while seeing sunlight spots dancing on the surface of a fast flowing river. It was like creation ‘stuff’ coming and going all the time. Throughout all this I could still hear the music. Then, the next shock to my system, if a system I had. The dots of light that seemed to be coming into and out of existence as far as one could see suddenly turned into the music which I could hear, and I could not only hear the music but now also see it.

There are no words to describe such music made of light. It is a vision which unlike other vision cannot be recreated by imagination within the mind from hindsight; it can only be seen and known at the time of the event. I saw the music flowing toward me. It was in colours such that we know and some that we do not know. The essential quality of the light was equal to that of the sound of the music. The light itself and the colours were not different things as we tend to know coloured light by reflections or as sources of light emanating from a certain point. The music was the light, the colour was the light. It did not flow from anything except uncreated into created. The fear that I had experienced throughout the expansion or whatever it was had now gone and there was nothing but I and the music which I was now within: I became the music; there was not an I and an it. As this event continued I became aware that I ‘KNEW’ the music. That is to say that I knew it backwards, forwards, inside out, one note at a time or all at once; and I could see it anyway I wanted to see it. I could become the melody, which I did; I could become the harmony, which I did. I could be one note or the whole piece of the music. Reality is stranger than fiction; and a damn sight better.

Whilst this divine dance of music in unison was going on I become aware that I was of two natures somehow enshrined in one. There came a point whilst I was swimming in this light and music when I became aware that I was looking at myself objectively, and it did not seem strange at the time. ‘Myself’ did not consist of a body but only of light, but I knew it was me, and I thought, “The little one is having the time of his life”, (which indeed he was), but the other me, or the me of the personality, did not know this was going on; only the other bit knew that. Likewise were all these things not being thought about as we do out here in the world of temporal forms, but somehow they were just known, and seen, and felt, and enjoyed. (Many years latter I came to call this level of visions by the name of ARKON IMAGE EMANATIONS.)

I became aware at that point that there were two aspects of myself. One which I refer to as the person and one which I refer to as the personality; the latter of which is an extension and emanation of the former and thus a perceived duality, albeit a oneness in the structure of an inter-dimensional vortex of self existence. I cannot refer to two ‘I’s thus I will use the terms person and personality for simplicity. It is not so much a case of two aspects of consciousness but more the case of what part of the vortex of emanation the consciousness is existing within at that instant. One cannot observe from both points of reference at the same instant however, it is either one or the other. And it even gets far more complex. But let us proceed in the order of the unfolding events.

At this point, and even though one was aware of what was going on at the time, one was not ‘bothered about it’ so to speak, for I was only really concerned about the love of the reality itself, the music, the sound, the vision, the event itself, for it was indeed a divine dance of the spheres. It was passion and reality unimaginable; creation par excellence, by magic. The shift from one point of consciousness to the other is not an act of wilful intent on my (the personalities) part; it simply occurred as far as I was aware. As to how long this music and light experience lasted is impossible to say, for although it was a temporal process it was a kind of temporality other than is known in ‘normal’ or everyday awareness in temporal forms. Likewise the visions and objects of vision (the Arkons) were not thought of as extant things existing in their own right such as a tree or a mountain, for it was known and understood to be being created at the time and only for its duration and effect.

There came a point however when things changed. I suddenly had an entirely different vision. It was just at the point when I knew the music was going away, ending. My perspective of vision was such that I could see a being, a young boy of about twelve years of age if appearances were anything to go by. He was illuminated in a brilliance of light and colour, as the music had been, and existing in otherwise total darkness, but lighting that darkness up around him like an aura. He was sitting on his bum (with nothing underneath him) with one arm wrapped around his knees which were folded up to his chin, and waving goodbye to the music with the other hand. It was not a vision of any boy or person I had ever seen or known but I knew that I had to take the vision as myself, yet not the self of the personality which I knew to be me. Indeed it was the old me which was doing the observing and learning. Such archetypal visions are a kind of learning without any words, and which are not reasoned or rationalised and yet they are understood implicitly and without thinking about them; the experience is the thing itself and the knowledge and understanding is implicit and axiomatic; thus it is a dialogue without dialogue, and synetic in its nature. Hence, archetypal ‘Synetic Dialogue’.

I could see the boy waving goodbye to the music and I could see the music fading away into a distance and into nothingness; being uncreated just as easily as it had been created. I also implicitly knew as to what was going on inside him and as to how he felt. He did not want anything; he did not fear the music leaving him, for he loved it —and that was sufficient. I cannot find the words to describe the passion and feelings which that child knew and felt; but he was perfect; and an act which I knew that I could not follow. As the music went further away the sound of it also diminished. It eventually faded away into nothingness and the boy was alone in his own radiance in otherwise total blackness and nothingness. Then the vision disappeared, and there was nothing. I was alone with my boring old self, and once again able to think and rationalise in the usual manner and seemingly in the usual time span of thinking. Yet I was alone in a darkness in which I had no form other than conscious awareness. I realised that any perception or illusion of ‘otherness’, or another part of myself, was gone and I was alone with my normal personality of the outside world. Yet the world was gone, everything was gone except my self consciousness and its memories. What on earth, (or wherever it be), is going on; and why ? From hindsight one would assume that in such a situation one would be terrified, for it was like being buried alive (a good analogy); however, the thought of the music which had preceded this situation must have taken the fear away, even though I felt a feeling of great apprehension and a degree of worry. Is one going to be stranded here for all time maybe ? Is this death ? Or am I still sitting in the chair with my mind having slipped out of joint somehow ? Have I gone insane ? The thoughts that pass through ones mind are at times uncontrollable, and in this situation one does not know what to think. Surely if I just sit quiet (as if I could do anything other) and hang about something will happen; something must happen; I can’t just hang about here for ever; wherever ‘here’ is. Perhaps someone will come into the room soon and realize that my mind has got stuck inside and cart me off to a place to get it out again.

It was however, the first chance I had to think about what the hell was going on; one minute I am sitting in the chair minding my own business and the next minute... zap, and the world has disappeared, or I from it — which is it ? I knew for sure that I wanted out from whatever I was in but there was nothing I could do about it at all; for I had no control of anything. Just at that point however, and before I had the chance to get really fed up, something did happen. I was just thinking how nice it would be to go into the kitchen and get a beer or a cup of coffee when something came. I could not see what it was for it was still total darkness but I could somehow feel the presence of something I knew not what... Then I heard a voice ! To say that one heard a voice is not true in the sense that one normally hears a voice in objective terms across a distance, but it was indeed very much like it and also sounded within my mind or consciousness somehow. As though the point of origin was somehow objective yet from a location from deeper down within myself somehow. Thus objective inwards not outwards, from ‘below’ as opposed to ‘around’ me. Something said, or gave me the understanding by way of perceiving a voice...

I cannot describe how I felt about that. Nothing would actually shock me (I think) after what had transpired since the world had disappeared. Yet this ‘request’ was experienced as totally objective; it was not me that was asking the question; it was something else. I was too stunned to even think about the meaning of the question yet alone as to where it came from; for something, even an odd sounding voice, was better than nothing at all, if indeed it was a voice. Without thinking I inwardly yelled out (for the lack of putting it into other words, and more in panic); “Go on what” ? “Go on further”, came the reply or understanding. I was amazed at the logic and reasoning, but I wanted nothing else other than normality to be re-established. I was just about to reply (for if you can’t beat it join it), “No thanks; I have had a wonderful time thank you very much, but I think it’s about time that I was getting back to normality right now if its all the same to you”. (You might as well go out laughing I thought). As I was about to respond however, I was suddenly washed, bathed, drowned in a passion, a love, a swoon of ecstasy; in which I responded in a way which was a kind of choice which was no choice; an offer one cannot refuse. (And not the kind of bath I had intended). I replied to whatever, or wherever, the question emanated from... “OK, let’s do it, lets go on further” ! I did not even know what the question meant yet alone as to from whence it came.

The next thing I was aware of was that the profound overwhelming emotion had gone and I was then alone again — but something was different — stone me, my mind is BENT... out of shape, distorting ! I was now experiencing not ‘nothing’ but decidedly being inside of something — inside my own mind which was being squeezed out of shape. Why is my mind not round ? The things one thinks at such time. It was as if I could see the edges of my own mind in a fuzzy darkness, with my consciousness being like a point at its centre. My mind was being squeezed out of shape, or so it seemed. It was narrower at one point than at the other; a bit like a pear. I underwent an experience of being squeezed and I did not like it one bit. I became very anxious; or near on panic is more like it. I had a distinct urge to try and punch a hole in my collapsing mind in order that I could get out, escape, before being squashed along with it. I yelled out.... “Oy, there’s some sod out there pulling my mind around and I cannot stop it”. I felt real panic coming on fast. The restricting became worse. “If you don’t pack it in I am going to be squashed inside it... sod off” ! I was about to hurl other choice obscenities when all of a sudden I heard the voice again....

I was just about to reply “bugger off” when I suddenly started moving. “Relax, he says... stone me... I’m moving... the whole bloody shebang is sliding away and with me inside it” ! “Good grief almighty what the hell is happening” ! “Relax, everything is as it should be, keep calm and relax” ! “Relax, he says, who’s driving this thing anyway... how do I know its passed its bloody driving test ? And where is it going anyway... go on tell me that” ? “Keep quiet, shut up and relax” ! With that command, or suggestion, I was stunned to the core;... “Oh yes, relax... OK, I’ll relax” ! Bloody liar I thought to myself, who the hell could relax in a situation like this... this is too ridiculous for words or thought... yet alone happening ! The moving began to judder; we were up against something of a resistance (me I guess)... “Relax” ! “I am relaxing”! (why can’t I be unconscious or dead or something) ! I tried hard to think on good things as one does in the dentist chair while under diabolical pain; although there was no pain here, only fear. Make out nothing’s happening I thought to myself. The juddering felt like whatever was clogging the works was fighting a losing battle in some inevitable way. There was a huge tug — then a release. I zoomed off like a bullet from a gun; into, or out of what I knew not.

Exegesis Part Two

It was as though I had been ejected from a container of some kind and at high velocity: but I was now in a form of unseen space, a space which was so dark that it was almost a void of creation, but I was aware of a space of some kind in which I existed, and all about me. There was a long stunned silence of thought in an instantaneous recognition of the obvious. "Bugger me, why did I not realise it ages ago — I am dead — you're kicking the bucket old son" ! Not expecting any answer I shouted out —"I am dead ain't I" ! A 'voice' or communication answered, much to my amazement. "Well, if you were dead then you would not know it would you; just think lad, how could you think that you were dead if you were dead".

This was in some ways the most relaxing comment that had come to me since the music episode had ended and thus in some way relieved the panic which otherwise would have ensued. I inwardly answered, "That is indeed hard to argue with, but from what I have seen thus far nothing would surprise me" ! There was no answer to that but I distinctly felt the knowledge of something smiling. The sensation was now of existing in a literal space of some kind and yet very different to the confines of what I had taken to be my own collapsing mind and the things which had transpired within it: for now my mind was definitely perceived to be in a space, and free. I suddenly felt totally alone again, or so it was experienced to be. For whatever it was, the other degree of myself or otherness which seemed to have asked the questions was now gone again. I was alone. I guess I must have been fooling myself for it is obvious that I am dead, or at least on the way to it, for what the hell would I be doing here otherwise ? For a moment I wondered as to whether I was dreaming; perhaps I fell asleep in the chair and this is all a dream and I will wake up in a few moments. But I knew that it was no dream for it was as real as life, too real; albeit so different. I could still see; for that I knew, but there was nothing to see; there was no creation other than myself, my mind in nothing, Limbo. It was indeed a state of isolation, of existing in nothing created. It was not as though one were simply in a dark place as such, for it was experienced that there was no 'place' to be dark.

It was like being stranded, left alone in nothing; separated or beyond any form of creation; abandoned. All creation having been switched off and having forgotten to take me with it. Not even a finger to wobble or anything to smell or touch. I thought how much I would loved to have seen a raindrop or felt the wind in my face. And that how I perhaps took such things for granted maybe. 'Well, just when you're enjoying yourself eh', I thought.

One could think of this in terms of either a Limbo experience or Mind Alone, for the effect and the experience are the same thing. Naturally I began to feel apprehensive, for one could not do anything. One could not shake oneself out of it for there was nothing to shake. I began pondering on life for I had accepted that this was the end of it, or the journey to the end of it. Strangely enough I did not seem as bothered about it as I thought I should have done, and even though I had been cut short in my prime, and at a time when I was enjoying life to the full.

Well, I guess I am going to fade out any minute now and there is not much I can do about that now, so why worry about it ! But if ever anybody or anything asks me if I want to 'go on' again then I shall certainly ascertain as to what they mean before committing myself. After a while something switched on what I instantly thought was a star, a tiny little pinprick of light way off in the distance. I suddenly wondered as to why I thought that this star was objective to me, for nothing else which I had seen could really have been said to be objective in the literal sense; but this star felt to be absolutely objective. I was over here and that thing was over there, and thus real in objective terms.

I then questioned as to where all the other stars had gone but realised, or perhaps better to say suddenly remembered, that this was not outer space, but an unknown inner, or sub-space somewhere; and heaven only knows where. But if this is supposed to be heaven or afterlife then it is no great shakes; and give me Exmoor any day. Well, star or not it is damned obvious that I am not going to find my own way home from this place. And even if one knew the way back how the hell would one move in that direction ? I give up ! I began to wonder if my existence was now solely due to my thinking process perhaps. That is to say that I have no body or substance observable therefore perhaps if I stop thinking then I will cease to exist. That's novel I thought, a bit like Hobson's choice. By the same token however, if I were to keep thinking then perhaps I could hang about here for forever. But my thoughts do not thrill me to that extent so I did not fancy the idea of that. So perhaps if I stop thinking then I will cease to exist. So I stopped thinking. Nothing happened. I was still there; in nothing and nowhere. Well, that's it then, so much for that experiment !

It occurred to me that perhaps the Christians may be right after all and that this distant light was perhaps Dante's Inferno; Wow ! happy days ! I didn't think that I had been that bad however, and not that I believed such stuff anyway; but there you go eh! Movement seemed to slowly begin. Either toward the tiny little light or else it was itself moving toward me; but no, I felt actual movement somehow. Although I was not really thinking about it I somehow began to question, or at least begin to think, about my past life. If this light which is coming toward me (or me it) is death, then I really do have little time to think about life. What about it ? Well, it was OK I guess, I seemed to enjoy most of it despite the pains and the poverty, the war and frustration. What did I amount to ? Sod all really ! Was it fun ?

Fun ! ? I did not know it was meant to be fun; did I ask myself that question ? What the devil is going on ! Was it fun ? Well, some of it was, but not all of it, I thought to myself. Would you do it again ? Not the same one over again I don't think, a different one maybe. Different in what way ? Well, a little less frustration and pain, a little more passion and shared enjoyment. A more meaningful existence somehow maybe. What is enjoyment ? Well, you know, enjoyment ! No, you tell me what enjoyment is.
Well, enjoyment is to love what you are doing, to do what you love doing, and to share that thing and that love with another person I guess. It is also the joy of taking part, the act of being a part of instigating and spreading that enjoyment of being; a harmony of body and mind in the excitement of experience with others, and also at times on ones own with nature. That, I guess, is what enjoyment is for me anyway. At that point I felt that I would love to see a tree or a green field; a blade of grass or a drop of rain, or at least to feel a breeze of fresh air. For they were all now lost and gone. It occurred to me that I had not done any breathing for a long time; and nothing to breath with.

Would you want to go on living now, given the choice ? Now that I have come this far I am not sure. It would have to have some meaning to it, some purpose other than mere pleasurable moments and sad moments which amount to nothing really. It would have to have something which is seen, known, to have some meaning to the suffering and pain which is the greater portion of life on earth it would seem. It would have to be worth the effort of the struggle involved.

Would I really want to live again now ? I am not sure now; but what I think does not really matter now anyway; so I do not want to think any more; sod the lot of it. However, life was certainly better than being here and that's for sure; and wherever 'here' is — the dungeons of my mind it seems. But whatever now then ? In life I had the option of committing suicide if I had wanted or needed to; but I cannot even do that there-here. I wonder where those poor sods went anyway. Perhaps such an act is simply a short cut to where I am now, or where I am headed for... that light is getting bigger, quite close.... Good grief ! What the hell ... are they doing here ?!

I suddenly became aware that I was drifting past other beings somehow; hundreds of the buggers. I could not see them as such but I somehow knew they were there, and I could indeed almost see them, a kind of misty outline of some kind. I could somehow feel their presence. I became aware that I was somehow passing people; or beings of some kind anyway. What the hell are they doing here in my mind, or my minds tomb or whatever or wherever ? It was as if I was drifting through their dimension and yet somehow I could feel their presence and somehow 'know' them: an empathy of some kind. These people, whatever they were, were so good. I do not know how I knew that, but I just knew it, and I wanted to be with them above all else. If I were on a bus then I would jump off at this stop, but I can't do sod all: I want to be with THEM!

I wanted to wave at them to attract their attention but I had nothing to wave; yet somehow I understood something; a bit like a conversation by telepathy I thought. I could feel them and know them, and understand them somehow. Stone me ! — they said I cannot be with them... not now ! Why not; I want to be with them, they are far nicer than many of the people I came across in life. They are different somehow; strangely different.

Then, without more ado or a by your leave, I suddenly shot off like an inter-galactic bullet, at terrific velocity and away from their dimension of existence, or their imagined existence whatever. And the light which had been a mere pin prick of light, the little star, was now much closer and larger. That is no star, I thought; more like a hole with light shining through it, or somehow rather drifting out of it. It was now almost upon me, or me upon it whichever. I seemed to be in some kind of free fall, a decent or diminishing orbit about it; spiralling toward it. It was almost as though I could feel my own movement now and almost a sense of rushing air passing me. Hay, this is quite fun, a good feeling. But I do not think it is going to last long somehow ! I was no longer questioning as to whether this light was real but rather as to what it indeed was, for I was heading for it and fast. It is not a star, it looks more like a hole with light coming out of it from behind. Well, it would seem that it is perhaps the death star after all; happy days ! Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of Richard: some hope !

Well, what is going to be is now going to be, so sod the lot of it: for there is nothing I can do about it now. But I could go out singing, I guess — more dignified than whining. What shall I sing then; it will have to be a short song: "Arrivederci Roma" ? "Auld Lang Syne" ? No, I think I fancy a bit of Bach.... that is certainly a hole... it IS a hole... with light shining through it somehow; what a beautiful light it is, to be sure... radiant.... strange... this is IT, I am going into it.... stone the bloody Crows, I am falling into it.... Wow !

Exegesis Part Three

What happened next is impossible... I think ! How then do we describe the impossible ? An event occurred; one event, but it was experienced twice, and from two different perspectives or points of reference, and thus appearing as two events from hindsight. Yet they could not be remembered during the sequence. They could not be remembered for an infinite duration of time; not until this whole series of events was over and behind me. This event was in a dimension of a trinity of some kind; a trimorphic reality of self in some way. However, observation is always dualistic, the observer and the observed it seems; but it can take place from three different points of reference in sequence. Is it any wonder that we question our sanity for a while.

I will have to describe the following sequence of events just as though it was experienced at the time and in the sequence in which the events took place. However, at the time, the first sequence could not be remembered during the course of the second sequence and thus it was experienced (at the time) as if I only went into the white light once. But from hindsight it was experienced as going into it twice — even though knowing it was only once. The alternative is that two parts of me went through two different holes at the same time. Confusing is not the word ! Who would ask for any of this ?

I did not experience actually entering the white light. One instant I was about to enter it and the next instant I was inside or beyond it. If it were possible to have blinked ones eyes then I would have assumed that I had blinked and hence missed it. But I know well enough that you cannot open or close those eyes. Moreover, I had no knowledge of ever entering the white light; there was nothing before this event for that part of me in this field. I saw the figure of a Human form. It was tall, elegant, old; and standing on top of high precipice, like a cliff edge. I (this part of me) was in a location just to its left and a little way behind it. But I had no form as did it. I could see the left hand side of its face and form and way off into a strange kind of distance to the front and all around it.

I must have had two eyes for the reality was three dimensional. The space all around was like an eerie white mist and yet somehow without being misty; for vision was crystal clear. I could see over the edge of the precipice where this figure was standing right near the edge of a high drop. However, I myself, the observer, had no form, and this figure, or symbolic emanation of a figure, seemed as though it were not aware of me watching it, whatever it was. Moreover I had no remembrance of ever arriving here or of anything that had happened before. I did not have a clue what I was, or what I was looking at, or what either of us were doing here: wherever 'here' was.

But it was calm, serene, peaceful, poignant, somehow meaningful, but eerie nevertheless; strange; mysterious. I had no thoughts going through me, no feeling, no questioning; no power to think or reason (as one can from hindsight obviously), but just simply watching, and taking it in: and not by choice. I, or this part of me, was just an observer (as far as I know anyway). If one was being precise then that part of myself could be said, from hindsight, to have been like a spare member at a wedding or union (Mutual Convergence). And in the true and deepest sense of that meaning: a mere observer — in order to KNOW !

The figure was looking down in toward the whiteness which was a kind of enclosed but huge dome of whiteness. There was only the restriction of whiteness which created the perception of an enclosure or dome of some kind. But whilst I was observing all this a small dark aperture in an otherwise total whiteness just opened up, like the lens of a camera shutter (the round type). The whiteness was not a blinding whiteness but simply an absolute pure and soft radiant whiteness: but kind of misty. And yet the aperture which opened up like a hole in a wall was absolutely round in form and clear cut defined. But it was tiny; a small hole. A small dark opening in a 'non wall' of the mysterious white light; and me with no form, and this form of a figure about three foot in front of me and to my right, just standing there watching this hole appear. Then all of a sudden a small ball of gold glowing light popped in through the hole; and as it did so the aperture closed up like magic behind it... like a self closing door.

As the being looked down (it sounds like a fairy story but it is the literal truth of the events so help me the god of truth), this small gold ball of light came through the dark aperture into the white light, and there it just kind of hovered, remained stationary, with this figure watching it and me watching all of it. As I said, as the small gold glowing object entered into the white dome then the aperture through which it had come, the small black hole in the white, simply closed up and became non existent behind it; and the light (gold ball) just sat there stationary; a gold ball of light surrounded by a pure white light. And all was still... for ages it seemed.

It was eerie, so quiet, yet so profound. There was not a sound or any further movement. All was utter stillness and quiet. Somehow it seemed as if the figure may have been an extension of myself with me having some kind of out of the body experience in some strange way; for I knew what was going on in its thinking; I think. Yet I was observing from a slight distance away... and objective.

The small glowing object looked much like a Ping-Pong ball and its radiance was a gold glow which stood out in contrast to the surrounding pure and soft white light. As I watched I saw the figure shed one tear; one solitary tear ran down its left cheek; yet it was happy; so happy. I know not how I knew it, but know it I did. The figure was in love with the glowing object. Had I been in a position to think, ask questions or rationalise during that facet of the events, then I do not know what I would have thought or reasoned, or understood; but I could not. From hindsight it is very strange being a passive observer. From hindsight however, there are no questions to ask regard that event as far as I am concerned; for all was understood — it explains itself. But to continue however.

Nothing was said; there was not a sound; everything was as stationary as the grave with the exception of that teardrop slowly rolling down a face. No further movement took place. It was so profound beyond words. I was not sure as to whether the figure I had been observing was another part of me or not; indeed at this point I was not sure of anything, for I could not think; I was simply an observer. The vision then ended as instantly as it had come about, and from that point I had no further memory or recollection of it ever happening; or not for a very long time yet to come. An infinite amount of time.

As I said... this was no star, it is a hole with light shining out of it, and I am damn well falling in to it.... I am going into it.... Wow !

I did not actually experience going into the white light; I must have blinked or something. One instant I was about to enter it and the next instant I was inside of it. I was inside some kind of bubble — a bit like a cobweb eggshell, or one of those string lamp shades that gather all the dust. I was aware of myself inside this thing; like an embryo in an egg of some kind; or shell. It was the first time that I could actually see anything of myself since all this began. I was somehow sitting all cramped up like a bloody chicken in an egg; wondering as to what was on the outside which was so bright; and as to what the hell was going on now. But thinking did not come easy at that point, and perhaps simply more instinctive than rational thinking. But I could still think somehow. Beyond this 'bubble' which I was cooped up in was a pure radiance of brilliant and dazzling white light. A blinding light. I could not seem to think in the normal mode of thinking, although I could indeed still think somehow.

I had an instinctive urge of wanting to scratch my way out of this bubble or whatever it was, or at least see as to what was outside of it. But there was no form to scratch at. I could not touch anything even though I seemed to have some kind of physical form of some kind. I think it must have been simply too bright and blinding to see properly. I suddenly realised that the light was getting brighter and even brighter by the second; blinding and more blinding all the time. Or perhaps more light was getting in through the mesh of this thing somehow. I began to see something — or more true to say 'know' something: but what is it... I'm not sure... No, no no it can't be... it is... good grief almighty... the thing outside... it is... it is ME ! (With that thought, that event, that vision and knowledge — I was dead; gone; finished). I saw no form of anything other than brilliant and blinding light yet I knew that something outside was myself; it was made obvious; axiomatic; absolute knowledge. My being, my consciousness, started spinning, swooning somehow, spinning in a giddiness like a vortex of water going down a bath plug hole: a vortex of self existence diminishing into nothingness. I knew that my bubble was disintegrating in the light... and so was I... I am going... I am being damn well annihilated, melted down, disintegrating, burnt out, annihilated. It came to pass that everything ended; everything had gone; and I was gone. I and the universe were no more. It was the end of time.

CHAPTER FOUR

Exegesis Part Four

THE PARADISE EVENT

For an unknown duration after my bubble or shell and I were annihilated, there was nothing. One cannot talk about nothing, for nothing is the total lack of experience, oblivion; like being switched off, dead, gone, annihilated. But after a non-duration of time there was a re-emergence or resurrection of my being, an annihilation of annihilation as such; but the like of which could never be dreamed or imagined. No physical eye has ever seen that place, no hand has touched it, no dreaming mind has thought of it, and its reality has never occurred to the rational mind, which exists in temporality: other than through the memory of the Paradise event itself.

Annihilation in that mutual convergence was something like passing through a magic gate: a gap in the universe: a hole in creation, a gate which separates time and temporal things from the transcendent realm of a divine Eternity, the repose of being. Such death is not a death but rather the ultimate in living, the ultimate in knowing, and the ultimate in comprehension and affirmation. Likewise is it the ultimate in love, passion, wisdom, and understanding. From hindsight one would initially ask the question as to why the nature of things comes to contain such a rare and precious jewel in the crown of creation which would seem to be so jealously guarded, and beyond the moat of annihilation itself, that so few people ever come to be shown it during the course of their life on Earth. A justified question indeed. For everyone should know this yet while they live their lives on Earth; or so would be my own judgment and any other human being who had come to witness this wonder beyond all wonders. Dialogue upon the transcendent and eternal realm is not going to be easy, for the words we use apply to temporal things and not to the eternal perception of the divine transcendent realm of perfection in which there is knowledge only of essences of things and not the things themselves. Moreover the vision of the place itself is not what paradise is all about, for it is about the feeling and the knowing and understanding, not the vision; and even though the vision itself is the vision to end all visions. Among all other things one knows (and realises from hindsight) is that we are a kind of jug, a vessel, a conduit, through which the life force itself flows. Without created consciousness to act as such vessels, there could be no further creation, and no point or meaning to creation without us. We are the banks of the river of the flow of life; and this place is where the banks of the river of life meet the eternal riverbed.

However, it is not totally impossible to talk of such reality, only very difficult; but such experience itself solves many mysteries and so called paradoxes. To say that self- consciousness, or I, is resurrected after annihilation is a most fitting description of the experience, and the best definition of the event. One could also say the annihilation of annihilation; but one cannot say as to what is happening in absolute objective terms of reality; for you and I can never know that. With regards to the ‘awakening’ in that realm, then one cannot make an analogy of going to sleep and waking up in another place, for that gives the impression of a continuity; which it is not. It is a broken continuity of self-being. Broken by the act of annihilation.

When we awake from sleep we are the same person that went to sleep; we vaguely remember going to sleep, we remember having been asleep, and when we awake we retain our past memories of having existed before that sleep: and thus a continuity of being even though we underwent an oblivion of consciousness during dreamless sleep. Neither are we actually aware of the point of falling asleep, but we sure are aware of being annihilated; and how. And I often wondered why. But if we did not come to know then we would never know the connection point between time and the everlasting eternal moment of being.

Because that place, the transcendent realm, is judged by us (or me) to be perfection, then for simplicity I refer to it as Paradise. There are no names however. It would be misleading to refer to it as ‘eternity’, for I always thought of eternity as the sum of all created time. Indeed time as we know it does not even move there. Thus it is the beginning of time; hence the womb of eternity. Moreover, nothing at all of experienced consciousness has ever known that place and dimension by dwelling there. So it is pristine, fresh, childlike, virgin of any other experience or memory; and hence my justification for referring to it as the Virgin Womb of Eternity. There are no men or women there and the word virgin has no connotations of that ilk. However, let us proceed with the event and the understanding of the eternal wisdom itself.

When we awake in paradise we do not awake in the sense of coming out of a sleep then; it is nothing like that at all. There is no waking up or sleeping in that realm, for when you are resurrected into it you have ALWAYS been there; there is no before. Temporality does not apply there. Hence, even if we went there a million times it would always be ‘once’ from our perception anyway; and by virtue of annihilation itself. Paradise is the beginning; and the end is a new beginning. So it is both the beginning and the end, and then the beginning again. It is like the knot that joins a round piece of string or loop; or the weld that holds the circle of being together. It is home ! From whence we came. It is my home; everyone’s home. We are Twins; divine cosmic twins.

One does not wake up then or suddenly come into self-consciousness there, for one has always been there and self-conscious within it. Naturally enough you and I can come to question that truth as it is experienced by the I AM within that realm when we are in extension of it; and don’t I know it. But you cannot whilst in there; it is uncontradictable. Thus when self-consciousness is restored, shall we say, after annihilation, it is not the restoration of the personality that went in, thus it is not really a resurrection in that sense, for that part of ourselves which exists in that realm has always been there; and the part, the personality, that went into annihilation does not exist there; but it is still you; the real you; but the inner and depth-eternal you that only this dimension can reveal; and hold. The part that is never let go of. So much depends then on the reference point one is talking from when using the term ‘I’ or me. Hence we have to come to know our true self; that part which IS the real us, and of which everything else is ultimately objective—even the personality, time and changing events.

In that realm there is no memory of ever having existed before or elsewhere. There is no before or elsewhere. Thus we are not talking about the personality existing in paradise but that of the PERSON. The personality is washed away in annihilation. But nevertheless that person in paradise is ‘ME’ . . . ‘I AM ME’. It is still my consciousness (you in your case). But not the you of the temporal senses. The person and the personality are but two parts of our trinity; and the soul or overself is the third part—like three quarks in a proton or three peas in a pod. One could therefore mistakenly talk about the ‘I AM’ which exists in the womb of eternal mind as being objective from the personality of the being in time and space; but to do so would be very wrong and also cause a paradox and alienation of self from self, or the outer from the inner. Likewise, it is painfully obvious from hindsight that some, if not many (through second-hand dialogue and distortions, no doubt), have thought this aspect of being to be the first cause; the unseen living mover of creation itself. But not so; for there is another, and even beyond that depth . . . beyond our self, and which is not us.

The eternal paradise at the ground of our being is experienced to be the first created thing and place, but certainly not the creative source itself. Although it is known to be the first emanation of the creative source itself, the first act of creation. In the beginning, man was indeed in the garden of eternal delight and perfection, paradise. But as I say, it would still require an ‘act’ to bring forth paradise and the minds within it. Thus it is also known whilst in that place that there is a deeper but uncreated reality. But not a deeper reality that you or I can ever get to; and that is a known fact whilst there. The I AM which exists in that reality is not the first cause then, and that is axiomatic at the time. It is the first thing ‘CAUSED’. However, it was not created in time; certainly not the kind of space-time that you and I know out here. It is deeper down within the inner structure of emanation than the point where space-times become a phenomenon of extended reality; just as a river is not the riverbed, but without a riverbed and the banks there could be no river. It is the ground of being; not the creative source of all being.

Let us continue, however, with the exegesis as it unfolded. I was resurrected from non- existence, death, into a place of eternal perfection. In that place there is perfect vision, (those who are blind will see). A vision which must be from two locations, I guess, because the vision, the place, is three-dimensional; binocular vision. There exists width, breadth, and depth. The place, realm, goes on as far as one can see, and into a distance beyond sight itself, for it is everywhere and everything. There is up, and there is down, there is left and there is right, all relative to the point of vision needless to say. The vision is of darkness and of infinite jewel-like glowing lights. The lights are like jewels, diamonds set in a sea of purple glowing darkness; which is not really dark at all, but somehow pulsating with vitality and being. The lights are small but more than mere points of light, and they are of various size and distance apart. Some are even kind of wispy and strung out; but most are roundish.

Neither the darkness or the lights can be described in a way which does them justice, for the beauty transcends anything known or knowable. It is the original unadulterated essence and principle of beauty. The lights in that realm are stationary, or so it seems to observation. Nothing moves, all is still and silent. The only thing that moves is I, or self-consciousness. I AM slowly drifts through that realm in a clockwise orbit; a slow orbit, but an orbit nevertheless. Initially it is like a slow drifting in a straight line. However, it is an orbit, a clockwise orbit, assuming the clock were laying face up on the floor. The orbit is of great distance and almost perceived as a straight line, but it is known to be an orbit about an unseen centre. The I that exists there (us) has no perceived substance or form, it is just pure virgin primordial consciousness as far as we are concerned; or a mysterious substance which can be made conscious; a ‘spirit stuff or energy’ of some kind. But what it is made of (if anything other than consciousness) cannot be known.

It cannot be seen or touched. It is like such energy is sacrosanct. There is no form to the eyes that see, for it is the consciousness or energy itself which can see. It can see almost all the way around itself, but not quite all the way around. Thus, you cannot see directly behind you but you can indeed see well to the left and right in greater vision than human vision. In ones drifting in this paradise one does not come into contact with the lights at all; and one does not really know as to what the lights are, (one can deduce from hindsight though) they are just lights, beautiful lights, and their configuration slowly alters with the perspective of one’s movement in orbit.

The darkness itself is indescribable, it is like a translucent glow of purple soup which is somehow vibrant, vital, it is not a void and it is not mere space in between the lights; it is a ‘something’; but more like a glowing soup or aura somehow. Perhaps it is the ‘stuff’ that beings ‘congeal’ out of; like planets and stars in the universe. And one’s orbit is through this divine and wondrous darkness amid the jewel-like lights. Thus, it is a brightness as well as a darkness. Like the twilight of the gods indeed. The description may make it sound a little bit like the physical universe with the stars amid black space; but it is nothing like that at all. But if anything then more like the vision among a nebula in a past supernova.

The lights are much bigger than our perception of stars, which are mere pinpricks of light, and there is a tint of colour in them even, as I say, like diamonds; but the predominant aura and glow is white. They have a substance and shape, but there seems to be no absolute uniformity of shape; but most seem to be round, as I say. The darkness is nothing like outer space, and it is not even dark at all; but darkish, like purple which is glowing. The lights are not as distant as the stars in space even though they are not in contact, and the distances between them is many times their actual size. Thus it is not like the emptiness of outer space at all. Moreover, one can see all this without turning one’s vision, for indeed one cannot turn one’s vision. There is no ‘Oh, I think I will look that way or this way’... you just see it all, all the time. But you also know that you are not seeing ‘it all’ at all, for it is infinite and everywhere.

However, that realm is not about the vision, as I say, it is about the magic; the knowing, the understanding, the passion, the reality, the knowing the ‘ALL’, the love, the wisdom, the beauty, and above all else it is about the purpose of creation and being. It is ineffable really. In a word it is all about ‘being there’; taking part in this divine mystical union of creation at root beyond time. It seems that the vision itself is a kind of bonus perhaps: a place in which to do this knowing yet whilst in a repose of divine peace; the peace that passes all understanding; perfection, and affirmation of being. It is like an amen to creation; the swan song of perfection. It is like the last chord of the ultimate piece of perfect music; a chord which comes like an amen after that pregnant pause and build up to the final chord. There could be nothing cleverer and wiser than to have annihilation precede this reality; it is like music in that sense; the last, and divine chord of created being when all has seemed to be done and finished. Moreover, it is also the beginning as well as the end, as I say, for it is where we come from. It is like it could be described as the cosmological waiting room of created consciousness before transmigration into the experience of time, freedom, and activity. There are no other beings perceived (or even known of) in paradise; one is totally alone with this truth and its reality. Thus the place and the knowledge is all yours, all mine, all beings from their point of reference and consciousness; it is the realm where all centres meet beyond space and time in the primordial motherload of created consciousness, minds, spirits, beings, whatever you want to call them. ‘Motherload’ does not mean female either. It means the main seam; the core, and the original. It is PURE consciousness; beyond time, space, and memory. It (I AM) is the alpha and omega of all extended minds; the beginning and the end of all created beings in creation; the first creation and the home that awaits the return of all created minds, which are but the children or progeny of creation.

Nothing was created before I AM and paradise: and nothing is created after me; I am the beginning and the end of creation, (synetic dialogue). Thus it is that the consciousness in the repose of the eternal domain is the first child of creation—in the Virgin Birth of creation itself. The real and only Virgin Birth. (and this one is not symbolic, it is the real thing). Before the mountains high and wide, before the seas did flow, before the stars gave forth their light, even then, I said, I KNOW. Before my personality was, I AM. Before cave men came into being, I AM. Look deeper than the stones of the earth and the oceans, and there you will find me; I am the light which is beyond them all; I am the light of life and the resurrection. Know me, and you will know your self; for I AM . . . and you are I AM.

Thus it is not metaphysics but proto-physics; before physics. It is not ‘after time’ (although it is that also); it is before time moved, before changing events emanated forth from the centre of all being and the eternal point of no duration. We are there at the beginning, like the observer of the first act of creation.

Our self-consciousness in that dimension cannot think; thinking is a temporal process; but it is totally aware nevertheless (thus, knowledge before thought: thus thought depends on knowledge . . . NOT the other way around as many seem to assume. Earthly philosophers are like mere babies in divine ignorance). It (we) is (are) not aware of things as we are aware of things out here, however, but it is aware of what can only be described as the essences and eternal principles and qualities of things; truths, depth realities, quality, meaning, purpose, beauty, wisdom, passion. That root of our being of eternal consciousness, that part of ourselves which exists there at the deepest level, the first child of creation, is totally in absolute love, a passion beyond description. It is filled with the passion of being to such a degree that if you and I out here were to have that degree of passion burning inside of our temporal minds or guts then we would blow up (and perhaps this caused it to happen during an incarnate life; who knows, who knows); but such passion is like dynamite. It is not like the watered- down love we know in this world, and certainly wonderful though that be. It is more comparable to the heat at the big bang with that of absolute Cosmic temperature now.

In this life we tend to think of wisdom as that of knowing what to do, of doing the right and proper thing; because it is wise to do that thing; but that is intelligence not wisdom. However, the wisdom within that consciousness is nothing like that. Its wisdom is the knowledge of creation itself; the knowledge of the heart: the knowledge of itself and its eternal existence. Knowledge also of that which is not itself; otherness; that which gave event to paradise and oneself; it is uncontradictable certainty of creation, purpose, being; and the wisdom of the beginning and the end of all things. And thence all of which I sum up in the terms the ‘Eternal Gnosis’ or the ‘Eternal Wisdom’.

It is a divine swoon of the exultation of the love of being; and being a part of it all. That ‘I AM’ knows well enough that something brought it forth into being; it knows well enough that it does not contain its own causation. It also knows that the cause of its creation is not paradise itself (the place) in its origin; and not within paradise itself in absolute terms. The first cause cannot be seen, it cannot be directly known independent of essences and created forms, and yet in a way it knows of nothing else other than its love for its source of being. And its source of being is that of no created thing; no thing created. And it is not questionable; it is uncontradictable knowledge and certain reality. There is no doubt. Thus, if it could be said that one is ‘contemplating’ whilst there, which is true in a way, then the thing which one is concentrating (not thinking) on in this swoon of passion, knowledge and delight is that of the love of ‘No Created Thing’. If you follow my meaning.

Thus it is that such child of consciousness (us in there) is in love and wisdom and yet it is but a child; a virgin creation; a virgin birth no less: pure in its love of otherness and the love of itself and its home which was created for it. Pure in the sense that it cannot think. Pure in the sense that it has had no other experience beyond that of paradise itself. Pure in its love, which is unconditional of anything, and unadulterated. For although it somehow knows everything in there, you and I (out here) would say that it knows nothing at all in the sense that we consider knowledge and understanding things. It is a very strange thing, for in this world there are two things that you and I can never ever know; one of them is everything, and the other is nothing. (For ‘knowing’ means to know ‘some thing’). And yet that part of ourselves in that realm knows only two things: one of them is everything (the essence and principle of) and the other is no thing. How odd, how very odd; it is like a reciprocal reality, or the square root of minus one—except that this place exists in reality.

The ‘I AM’ of that realm has no knowledge of Earth and incarnate existence. No knowledge of the universe or universes of space and time. No knowledge of created forms other than itself and paradise. Thus, those who claim that they are communicating with the dead may be Communicating with other living beings maybe, but not these beings, not the totally transcendent. You will not disturb these beings ! They are sacrosanct and belong to something else for that duration.

In the eternal paradise then there is only One, and the one is the all (for we are all identical in it). It is only from hindsight and whilst on Earth (with remembrance of paradise) that we can know that all created consciousness sees it that way, and in the same way; thus all beings perceive the oneness in the divine transcendent realm of perfect repose, perfect love, and perfect wisdom.

In that place there is no pain, no worry (no bills to pay), no answering to do; no eating, no sleeping, no thinking, no memory, no remorse; no hopes or desires, no fears; nothing negative. Thus it is also then a Mono-Pole reality; all positive and no negative; (hence no negation). All good, no bad. All beauty, no ugliness. All ‘now’, no past or future. All understanding and affirmation, no doubt or unknowing. All answers, no questions. Good god almighty, why was anything ever created so good ? Who knows, who can answer ! Only that child knows; and that is its wisdom—and it is you.

Search yourself then; for the quest and passion for the deepest knowledge of selfhood and understanding brings knowledge of the deepest depths of the all.

As I drifted in a slow orbit swathed in a love which is ineffable, beyond words and full rational understanding, in a wisdom which is beyond dialogue, in a place of eternal and everlasting perfection, I suddenly heard a voice or command (or the experience of one) and understood a ‘command’ or directive ! I had never heard a voice or command before in all my existence, and I was in fear and panic. The voice, or command said . . .

Words cannot begin to describe. I had never known communication or words or commands before. I did not know as to what was communicating with me, or how or why . . . was it me or was it something else . . . I began thinking . . . what IS thinking ! There is nothing else, only me ! I did not know what ‘go’ meant, and yet somehow I did begin to understand, and as I began to understand I was in even more fear and panic (was I biting from the TREE of knowledge), for there was nowhere else to go; only this place exists. . . . No, no, I do not want to go (I do not know how I invoked or understood such communication for I had never communicated with anything). But I know not of ‘go’, this is my home and my love . . . I cannot go ! (The first thought . . . and not by choice).

“It is all well that you must go now, for something out there is in need and you must now be with it: do not fear, it is all well that you must go now... now be with it” ! That fear at knowing I was ‘going’ is not possible to put into words; it could not be put into words. But one knew nothing of other things, or worlds, or time and space. Nothing. Nothing other than Eternal Paradise.

I did not open my eyes, for they had never been closed as far as I know. Returning was instantaneous action at a distance. I was looking at a cat fast asleep on my lap. My arms hung limp at my side. The fire had long since burned away and all was as quiet as the grave. It was very late into the evening and growing cold, yet my body was warm, comfortable. All was as it had been except the fire was out, the cat fast asleep; and about three hours or so had elapsed.

No amount of words or pages could ever sum up my initial feelings and thoughts on returning to temporal conscious and the same life that I had left seemingly millions of millions of years ago. Yet it was but three hours ago. I must have sat staring at the wall ahead of me for the next hour dumb-struck, without moving as much as an eyeball or a muscle. I was in shock. There are no words to describe the feeling, the shock, the excitement, the annoyance of coming back—the impossibility of it all. I was shocked, joyful, sad at returning, bemused, enlightened, annoyed, happy, mind-blown yet understanding all at the same instant.

By the time I got around to moving, it was about eleven p.m. I wondered as to what would have happened to the children if the house had caught fire or if one of them had woke up and come downstairs. I thought more in that next hour than I had thought in all my past life put together; but none of my thinking made any sense to the rational mind. When I came to my full rational senses I shouted out to myself . . . “Good grief almighty what the hell was that”! I was indeed back to normality, my old charming ignorant self. But perhaps not quite so ignorant now.

I staggered into the kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee which I took up to bed with me. The children were sleeping fine and did not look as though they had moved all evening. I did not think I would ever be able to sleep ever again. But wrong again, for I was sound asleep within no time at all, and before my wife returned home from her evening out with friends. I never told anyone of that event; the paradise event, for twenty years or more, for obvious reasons. Not a word; not a mention. What the hell could one say anyway ! And we all know well enough the reaction it would receive. It was therefore not only the secret teaching—but unspeakable ! Or was it !?

I had undergone what I later came to call the ‘Mutual Convergence’ (in annihilation). Twenty years later I underwent yet another most profound experience which I came to call the ‘Reciprocal Convergence’: or the Consummatum Incarnate (paradise on earth). And in which there is another kind of union, a reciprocity of ‘meeting again’—and on earth, between the inner self and the outer personality in a oneness. And only then did I came to see the connection, the reason, the meaning and purpose of the ‘I AM’ in paradise; and in which the function and purpose of the incarnate mind and the inner depths of self and the objective physical universe are fulfilled in a unification of mindful being on earth; the three in one; in a dance among the temporal forms on earth, and which was understood as the very purpose of creation itself and the reason as to why even paradise exists—and has to be known while yet on this Earth during an incarnate lifetime here. They have to be joined on earth also; that is the goal, the function and purpose—that eternal self is no longer alienated in conscious awareness from the incarnate mortal form.

And hence the saying that the outer has become as the inner and the purpose of being has been fulfilled, consummated, in the perfection of forms as it was in the beginning in the transcendent essence of being then so too has it become in the forms in extension. And in that knowing and understanding, creation has achieved its goal incarnate; and within the knowing incarnate mind of a finite personality . . . but ‘I AM’ eternal. The mind is not in this universe simply to observe it, but rather to fulfil it. You and I AM are one. You are I AM. Know thy self.

However, that was way off in the future; twenty long years in the future. In the meantime time did get mean at times; and from hindsight I can only call it a twenty- year period of the dark night of the soul at times: for I had not yet learned of the reciprocal convergence of spirit with spirit on earth in the consummatum or reciprocal convergence. But in the meantime there also existed a dichotomy, a duality of being; one being perfect and the other far from perfect. A little learning is a dangerous thing, so drink deep or taste not the divine eternal spring. Where metaphysics hangs its coat and mystics dwell in awe, the singer may be sighted; but the song goes on some more. Believe what you will, whilst you are free to do so; for you will not always be so !

But wiser by far to believe nothing at all; for knowledge will suffice: and ignorance melts away with experience. But instantly after that Paradise event of transcendence itself there was but one thought, one knowledge, one understanding and affirmation . . . and which is . . .

Oh . . . no . . . Oh . . . my God . . . how beautiful it is ! Oh my Love, would that they could know this; would that their eyes could see and their minds understand as to what they are, and from whence they came; the beauty, the truth, the passion. My love, give me the understanding; and give me the words, that I might speak of the wonder of being. And let us create Man in our image.

It is an irony that you and I here on earth, the temporal rational discursive mind, find it all too easy to accept anything that is bad as being true, and yet the acceptance of anything good being true is so difficult. That synthesis of inner understanding may well be easier for some than it is for others. I had more than enough problems with it—more than enough. And it took so much to make me understand and accept it. Would that it could be easier for others. I think that there is no better reason for making mention of these things for the young. We all learn from experience eventually, and that is natural enough. But to be able to learn, to some degree at least, from the mistakes of others, then that would be even better.