By Brian George
No weapon can cut emptiness in half
Hi Lance (Gilbert),
You wrote, “I could not agree more with the concept of transparency shielding one from disaster. It reminds me of advice given to me by an acupuncture teacher when I inquired if being too ‘open’ was the reason I was picking up ‘stuff’ from my clients. He responded that I was ‘not open enough.’”
Those clients are just bad, and you should probably stay far away from them. Of course, you will have to become independently wealthy first! A small detour—to be followed by a new Golden Age of hermetically sealed harmony and contentment, in which all citizens will belong to the Democratic Party, vampiric oligarchs will be cured by Bach flower remedies, and no one will ever say a harsh word about another. Of course, the acupuncture teacher was probably correct in saying that until then we would do better to keep all things in our field of vision, and to confront, as best as we are able, all undesirable energies head on.
The sentence “Transparency is the only shield against disaster” is one that just popped into my head, but I immediately understood what its implications were. There is a refrain from an old spiritual that goes, “I went to the rock to hide my face; the rock cried out “No hiding place! There is no hiding place down there.’” At times, when I have managed to access an expanded state of energy, and have attempted to move up what I call the “vertical axis” between worlds, it has seemed as though every carefully encoded secret has come bubbling to the surface, forced out of the body, the intellect, and the psyche by the power of an energy that desires to return home.
This is a mini-version of the “Apocalypse” that can erupt out of the “collective unconscious” at the end of a historical period or an astrological cycle. Some degree of physical destruction may or may not be involved; the new world might look almost exactly like the old. Space, I believe, is the ultimate destination of this energy. This is not space as it is generally understood, but rather the space of the fifth element, “Akasha,” a form of emptiness that is also a kind of 10-d encyclopedia.
Something gains in power to the degree that it is hidden. The massed genius of the past 12,000 years can still not prevent us from ignoring what is right beneath our noses. If a human holds up a hand in front of his face, he may be powerless, for whatever reason, to perceive it, and will be convinced that it must belong to someone else. We do not see what is in front of us but we do see many elongated shadows that are projected from behind us.
Our blindness is a reflex, yes, but a reflex that Earth’s Rulers lock in place. Fueled by trauma, a necromantic act has rewired the neocortex, muting the volume of the Music of the Spheres, and clouding the Van Allen Radiation Belts. Some common problem areas are as follows: our fear of the supernatural, i.e., our sense that nature does not follow its own laws; our contempt for the evidence of an ancient world maritime civilization; our investment in the belief that we used to live in caves; our fear that each man may actually be a woman, and vice versa; our fear that we are not completely good, or, rather, that we are actually pretty bad; our suspicion that the Earth is not fixed in its orbit, and that it might, at any moment, tilt; and our awareness of the fact that, almost certainly, we too are going to die. If we can acknowledge and then integrate an energy or a piece of information, then, to that extent, we become free of its capacity to wound us.
This was one of the ways that Zen Buddhist monks were able to gain such authority in Medieval Japan. They had no real self-image to defend. They had no hair to pull. They spoke in haikus, into whose 17 syllables they were able to squeeze the Macrocosm. They were happy to piss on statues of the Buddha, or to break up shrines for firewood. Even the greatest of horrors was perceived to be a joke. They had few beliefs, and were somewhat farcically unconcerned about death. Bowing down, they would stretch out their necks for decapitation, saying, “Let’s hurry it up. I’ve got things to do!” The warriors that they were trying to teach thought, “These guys are even crazier than we are!” And then stopped trying to kill them.
(Illustration: Brian George, Hawk with interdimensional crown, 1991)