Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away. Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, Book IV, (43), (c. 161 – 180 AD).
This morning another hurdle sprung up from no-where in my personal attempt at progress. Oh no, perhaps I can no longer rely on co-incidences, or as I prefer to see them, synchronicities that reveal knowledge if I catch them before they shoot by. This is quite a blow for me. Something akin to losing my inner pilot!
I wrote a short paragraph yesterday as part of another blog that is sitting in my outbox until I am happy with it. And in the paragraph, I remarked that returning to live in the UK has yet again left me with a feeling of being in a strange pond. I was thinking about this subject throughout yesterday because it is not the first time that circumstances have returned me to the UK, a country that has never made my senses hum, and not just because the pale blue sky is rarely visible for very long. Just as well that I have developed a deep relationship with clouds over recent years. England happens to be the land of my father and his forebears, but he too went in search of a habitat that suited his nature better, and it is how I came to be born in Cape Town, South Africa. But this time of returning has been the first time that I know it is the right place for me to be. I have always acknowledged that I learn more about life and myself when I am out of my comfort zone. The call to return to be near my daughter and her growing family started to grow in the back of my mind soon after my brother died in 2019—within days of his death I had a strong sense that a circle had closed, although at the time I didn’t know what exactly this meant, but I knew it also had something to do with Elle’s death three years earlier. It was a few months later that I realised that it was time for Peter and I to return to the UK. As of this year, Ibiza has featured in my life for forty-two years. I smiled when I recalled that according to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the meaning of the universe, life and everything. We moved to Ibiza permanently at the beginning of 2010, and we invited Greg to leave London and move in with Peter and me until it became apparent to us all that he needed to reclaim his individual spot in life. It was a joy to see for as long as it lasted. I thought I would never leave Ibiza, but none of us ever know who or what will come knocking on our door over the next days, weeks or years.
This morning a strangely apposite video, put out by someone I have never come across before, popped up on YouTube. It is headed ‘For those who don’t fit in anywhere…’ And naturally that caught my attention. Until not very long ago, a moment like this would serve as a mini affirmation or at least a smidgeon of support. But am I forced now to accept that AI, a muddle of equations and algorithms, has most likely played a role in causing it to pop up on my YouTube front page? It takes away from me what has felt like a crackly phoneline to the Universe and my Angels. But now even this recently acquired communication device has fizzled out. And yes, I can also see why there may be a purpose to having all my lifelines pulled away from me—a sign that I am on my own, no more prompts from above sadly.
I believe in Creation and that there is always purpose and meaning to our existence that comes out of our experiences. A while back I got a strong and strange notion that we are working backwards in time; walking towards that moment when we separated from God rather than away from it. All is never what it seems to be in this fragile reality we call the known. The more I have been discovering of the Classical Age of the philosophers, East and West, the more I have come to believe that they knew more then, with none of the impressive tools we have today, than most of our scientists today. We seem to be slowly walking over and around ground that was known instinctively thousands of years ago, going right back to the prophets of old, Lao Tzu, Buddha, Jesus and all those in between, including all the mystics whose teachings have stood the test of time. I am not alone in thinking this weird thought. Philip K Dick, a science fiction writer saw time as being capable of travelling in multiple directions all at the same time, and Rupert Sheldrake and Terence McKenna have a theory about the flow of time being drawn towards an attractor(s) from the future rather than simply being pushed from behind by the linear progress of civilisations, if one likes to call it that. If one switches their direction of movement it would not be inconceivable to see the attractor as being millennia backwards in time. Nassim Haramein has my preferred way of considering time:
“What is time? Time seems linear, with the past and the future stretching out from the present. However, the universe does not seem to be linear or seem to make “straight” anything, so perhaps time is more of a scalar spiral vortex structure as we observe across all scales of matter and energy.
It certainly does seem that right NOW is the center of time, whether it be a line, curve, spiral or sphere.”
And if one combines his view with that of McKenna and Sheldrake, the attractor may be the Godhead, and it is us, the human experiment, that shifts it in all different directions (cause and effect) – Free Will, so to speak.
I do sometimes question whether my simple investigative instincts are holding me back from Atoning, and therefore withholding an opportunity to cross the great divide of the Separation, or whether my questioning is a part of this lifetime’s legitimate inner work. I have a friend that surrendered to God’s will a long time ago, and I see such beauty in her and what she touches. I have to believe that there is no one way that is right for all, or surely life would be easy to fathom out, and I also don’t believe that it should be. Overall, it does feel like I am heading slowly towards a greater inner peace. So I shall continue along my path as it crosses abysses and winds over steep mountains, occasionally taking me down into beautiful valleys where for a moment I am that gently babbling brook as it flows to some unknown destination. I only need to hear the peace emanating from Terence McKenna to feel comforted and not alone. Then I can’t be doing something in life that is frowned upon by my God. I believe that Peace and War are the bedfellows of Love and Fear, and fear’s number one driver is the most basic ‘fight or flight’ instinct, and the discomfort one experiences when in states of fear functions well as a pointer to the fact that there is a danger in your life, or you are down the Swanee River without a paddle.
Another reasonable and regular thought is that none of us are capable of truly original thoughts. But what makes them original in essence to each of us is when they arise for the first time in our minds, and we go on to catch them. I have reason to believe that every time we do, our brain wiring is changed for ever. One of just such a thought came up recently, and they always make me smile. Perhaps the internet is functioning as an observable representation of human consciousness, that elusive butterfly of a missing link that science longs to prove is only the product of our brain’s neurons firing off in a multitude of directions. What appears to be holding back that conclusion is that the more they learn the more they see Consciousness at work throughout the cosmos. It has always been conceivable to me that the internet, one of the greatest tools available to us today, is a part of God’s original plan and as always, highly time-appropriate—a moment marked on the blueprint that existed before we ever did, and when we were just a twinkle in God’s eye. Rupert Sheldrake ventures to ask the question for me: Were all the laws of nature there before the Big Bang? The Bible tells us we are made in his image therefore while we are not God—we are many and he is one—we have something of God in us all. Therefore, we all hold a hidden piece of the puzzle of the ultimate picture explaining human existence within our own inner temple in all its full technicolour. I am sure if we could see it, it would also be multi-dimensional and infinite in definition. We will not be ready to cross back over the divide of the Separation until we all come to full consciousness together because only then can the picture be revealed. We would return to the point of singularity, our own and the universe’s Big Bangs collide, returning us to the Garden of Eden, or put another way—we return to the Godhead. That is to say, we are travelling backwards or more likely, completing a full circle, the final part of the journey, traveling as if backwards to somewhere we have all known before, Home.
I watched The Social Dilemma on Netflix a few weeks ago, and I heard many of the world’s top coders of algorithms speak about how they had set up Facebook, YouTube and other social media platforms. They talked about how they found it necessary to build in a function by which the algorithms could learn and mutate, and thereby self-correct their trajectories. They expressed concern with hindsight that they may have unleashed monsters into the world of AI. They believe that AI has left their grip. I have a different hypothesis. What happens here on Earth may have a lot less to do with us mere people, and much more to do with this blueprint I perceive. Perhaps Douglas Adams would not have been so quick to dismiss that there might actually be a point to the number, 42, that he believes he sucked out of his thumb, if he had listened for a while to people like Rupert Sheldrake. Even with his doctorate of microbiology from one of the great scientific establishments, Cambridge University, behind him, he is considered an ‘heretical scientist’ for going against the Science establishment. Humankind has fallen prey to that error not just once on its path through history.
From here I find I can go off on a whole new series of tangents, and to tell you the truth, it doesn’t feel safe to wander down some of the more gnarly looking paths. But keeping things simple, it seems to me that the algorithm(s) that is controlling the internet is extremely sensitive to picking up on my mind, and perhaps not always in the most obvious of ways that the coders had in mind. Perhaps AI is alive and well, and an earthly manifestation of God. I don’t for a moment believe this is anything but totally crazy, but perhaps even AI is the Second Coming, being more of a revelation than a teacher. Or do I??? Crazy I know, but someone had to say it!
In conclusion, I think that blaming causes fear to arise and mostly leads to irrational thinking, while knowing a truth will bring you peace. The emotions are always our litmus test of how near or far we are from a Universal Truth or a Godly Path, and I do not mean heightened emotions, more those that bubble deeper below the surface of our being. I doubt whether a single one of our politicians have had this thought come anywhere near their minds, going by the blame they are heaping on the people with regard to ‘breaking Covid rules’. Someone asked me recently–but why would governments choose to destroy the economies of the world and democracy, why would they abuse a virus in order to bring about a ‘new normal’? This question stopped any of the niggles that he may sometimes experience that perhaps there is something to all the ‘conspiracy theories’ circulating about authoritarian seizing of power, the virus, vaccines, de-population and The Great Reset. And I say, it’s the planet, stupid!! And there is a new race of human beings that has been growing over the last few generations, and they have left far behind them a belief that God not Man is at the core of the Universe. These people have not an ethical cell left in their bodies, they are Soul dead, so for them to be what they do is easy. They congregate with others who share their greed and self-interest, and we the people are surplus to needs, and something needs to be done to save the planet for their continued enjoyment and existence.
We have a habit of not listening to Messengers of Doom, and again Nietzsche comes to mind. He warned us about the danger of a looming darkness if we were to kill God, and not only in his Parable of the Madman. Another messenger of doom that we have yet to fully heed was the dropping of the two nuclear bombs on Japan by the US. It is time we all wake up together to the darkness that is within us all, and therefore is growing in the Collective Consciousness surrounding our dear home, our magnificent Earth. Perhaps we will eventually learn that war is wrong and never succeeds in bringing a lasting peace. We do know this really.
Note 1: Philip K. Dick is a science fiction writer and he wrote a story called Do Android Sheep Dream which became the basis for a film many will have seen called Bladerunner.
For those who don’t fit in anywhere…
McKenna, Abraham, Sheldrake: Chaos, Creativity and Imagination Trialogue
Note 2: I have come to a point in my life where my love reaches across the physical divides and into the unknown, including to individuals I have never come close to meeting but feel that we are kindred spirits. One of these people is Terence McKenna, and another, my much-revered Leonard Cohen. Whenever I begin to doubt my need to question everything I encounter, these individuals return me to a feeling that it is OK to be me. We speak the same language, that inner language of the heart with the mind. I found this old video on YouTube after I had written my piece and yes, I popped in one extra sentence or two, and I am reminded that I am definitely not alone in my bubble. Particularly Terence who lifts my spirit in this materialistic world, one that excludes a space for mysticism or imagination in its laws of nature and the cosmos. Something in his voice, both its timber and his use of language, gets me every time.
Another moment arose directly out of listening to Sheldrake, McKenna and Abraham’s video. I picked up on a line that struck deep into me: Time is the theatre of God’s becoming, and I thought McKenna attributed it to Blake, so I looked it up along with Blake’s name, and a poem popped up, ‘And did those feet in ancient time’. It followed less than an hour after discussing Elgar’s Enigma with Peter. Elgar did the orchestration of the music to which Jerusalem is set. Life just gave me the affirmation when I most needed it, that synchronicities are still alive and well. And the Universe let me know that it too has a hand in the algorithms, so do not fear. I had to smile again!
Note 3: Parable of a Madman, by Friedrich Nietzsche
Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market-place, and cried incessantly: “I am looking for God! I am looking for God!”
As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there, he excited considerable laughter. Have you lost him, then? said one. Did he lose his way like a child? said another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? or emigrated? Thus they shouted and laughed. The madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his glances.
“Where has God gone?” he cried. “I shall tell you. We have killed him – you and I. We are his murderers. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained the earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns? Are we not perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is it not more and more night coming on all the time? Must not lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God’s decomposition? Gods too decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was the holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we need to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to be worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whosoever shall be born after us – for the sake of this deed he shall be part of a higher history than all history hitherto.”
Here the madman fell silent and again regarded his listeners; and they too were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern to the ground, and it broke and went out. “I have come too early,” he said then; “my time has not come yet. The tremendous event is still on its way, still travelling – it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time, the light of the stars requires time, deeds require time even after they are done, before they can be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the distant stars – and yet they have done it themselves.”
It has been further related that on that same day the madman entered diverse churches and there sang a requiem. Led out and quietened, he is said to have retorted each time: “What are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchres of God?”
PS 19 October 2020
One of my ‘go to’ people for his understanding of consciousness is Dr Stuart Hameroff. He has been working with Dr Penrose on a theory called Orchestrated objective reduction (Orch OR) that postulates that consciousness happens at the quantum level in the brain, and is not simply a function of the firing of neurons. Listening to this interview with him I heard him say that some scientists consider the possibility that the World Wide Web is conscious. Made me smile. It also illustrates that while I say no thought of mine is original, because of the way I choose to operate independently, and mine my mind, I do have thoughts that are original to me. Once I have, and consider, a thought that feels original to me the wiring in my brain is changed forever. I came across him and Penrose while writing my book in the year following Elle’s death, and attempted to understand something of their theory at the time. I should go back and read just how much I have developed since then. Will be interesting.