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The Blinding

“I can feel it coming

In the air tonight

Oh lord …”

 

And now for something completely indifferent …

 

Can you close your eyes and have vision?

Can you stop your mind so you can think?

Can you feel outside your senses?

Can you imagine what you already know?

 

The following is but a passing possibility …

Tis nothing but a nonsensical breach …

Tis by all accounts a dream without sleep …

A fleeting whim …

 

So should you feel adventurous or bored …

Take this trip along me for the giggles …

And stop all thoughts …

And close your eyes at every opportunity …

 

And imagine this …

 

Imagine there is a sphere …

This sphere is dark like a black ball…

This sphere is devoid of light …

This sphere is real …

This sphere is what we perceive as our universe …

 

Now imagine if you could …

That you could step away from your own forest …

Step away from your own dark sphere …

So you can observe your own dark bubble …

Away from our dark universal forest …

 

And when you do …

You notice this …

 

That the dark sphere which we call our universe …

Is enveloped by another sphere …

There’s another bubble surrounding our dark bubble …

And it is made of light …

 

A light so bright it is blinding …

A light so bright and so beautiful …

A light to end all lights …

A light that is more your true self than your true self …

More all of our selves than our true selves …

Our home light …

Our beacon …

Our way home ….

Our ONE …

 

Now imagine the intelligence …

The intelligence that made this so …

So close yet so far …

The obstacle it put before us …

Our true self hidden in the self …

 

What clue would it give us to make our way home?

What does it say?

What does it mean?

 

If you have come this far, perhaps you will consider this …

 

There is a dark sphere …

There is a dark bubble …

And it is enveloped by light …

 

How do we know?

 

THE STARS!!!

 

If there was a dark bubble enveloped by light …

And one, the one, the intelligence, were to clue those who dwell in darkness that light surrounds them …

He would make pinpricks in their dark bubble so that they could glimpse the light from the light that surrounds them …

 

THE STARS

 

They are the pinpricks …

So bright is the light that surrounds us that the smallest pinpricks of light, our stars, fill our dark bubble with light.

 

I have no idea if this is cosmospiritually true …

But in a universe in which that which is outside of us is the path to that which is within us it is as true as true can get …

 

Because in this case it is true of us before it is true of our universe …

You know this …

I know this …

It is our primary knowledge …

 

We dwell as tourists in our darkness …

Surrounded by light we are so close to we can taste it …

So close yet so far …

 

Too good to be amateurs not good enough to be professionals …

Existential limbo …

 

I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors …

All this is is a childish thought …

 

But in this moment it feels right to me …

 

What we see is what we see …

The light … the light envelops us … and we know it is there because the stars tell us so

 

The Blinding @ ATS

 

Quote of the day…

“I am here, now … not because I’m enlightened but because I’ve run out of places to hide.”

me  🙂

Actually, non

I was reading the following from our friends at youmightfindyourself:

People are born without language, but with a genetic makeup that allows them to acquire and express any of the languages that exist in the world. And the language they end up speaking is determined by who they’re raised by. At about the age of two their mother tongue is set, so that even though a person can learn new languages the fact is that there’s a basic hardwired one. Even with people who are multilingual, if you ask what their mother tongue is, they can tell you. And if they can’t, if they say “I speak these languages equally well,” and you ask, “When you calculate numbers in your head what language do you use?” there will be one answer.

via YMFY.

As an accidental polyglot from an early age I can confirm that the above is not actually accurate.  Greek is the first language I learned, my mother tongue if you will, as I lived in Athens until the age of seven.  Then learned French and Italian as a consequence of residing in those countries.  I learned English last, yet by virtue of it being the latest learned and most frequently used language, it is by all accounts my primary language … that is to say, that even when I speak in other languages, my thoughts have to now be translated from English.

Should I move back to Greece, France, or Italy, it would take several months to a year to begin to think completely in those languages but it would eventually happen.

I think the above is only true if a person’s ‘diaspora’ isn’t complete … namely if they retain a cultural and linguistic tie to their country of provenance after having migrated to their current country of residence.  Perfect examples of this are Chinese, Greek, and many other cultures who retain ‘ethnic’ neighborhoods in cities across the US and indeed the globe.

Nevertheless, without wishing to extrapolate theory from personal experience, I can to the limited degree that my experience can attest, confirm that the ‘mother tongue’ tie  🙂 isn’t as hard wired as one might presume.

Leggo My Ego

“A feeling of aversion or attachment toward something is your clue that there’s work to be done.” – Ram Dass

Greetings and welcome to yet another tedious episode of our dEGOnstruction (ego deconstruction) series.

Todays satsang 🙂 will focus on the suffering caused by the mind’s dependence and attachment to the possessive … or more simply put, the ‘my/mine’ construct.

My name
My thread
My post
My thoughts
My life
My idea
My past
My wife/husband/kids
My house
My pain
My beliefs
My sharona
My situation
My feelings
My experiences
My money
My religion
My future
My body
My dream
My grief
My goals
My world
My truth
My opinion
My love
My philosophy
My death
My secrets
My problem

When the mind attaches itself to thought and personalizes it, it strips that which it is trying to express of all truth. For when a thought becomes a personal possession it becomes part of the mind’s self defined identity. When a human identifies him or her self through what the mind possesses it is in fact defining everything but what we are as living beings.

To the mind this is what you are: imagine a box that bears your name on it, to the mind defined self all that you are is the accumulation of thoughts and experiences compiled through what it calls MY life. That is all one can be, namely a sum of thoughts.

It’s not that thoughts and the mind are merely illusions as some say. Illusion itself, like all concepts, is itself a meaningless concept. And it’s not an issue of discarding thought and mind for that is actually impossible, they are part of the truth and they are a vital component of this physical manifestation we call ‘life.’

It is more to assign them their rightful place in our existence as opposed to allowing them to define it.
As I have noted on a few occasions, allowing the mind to be in charge is akin to allowing the car engine to steer the car.

Why?
And how do we know this to be true even though the mind resists it?

Well, the fact that the mind is resisting it should be our first clue of the truth contained in that statement.

But more specifically, let us take the example of personal dynamics on ATS in order to highlight the deeper truth across all interactions in our lives.

Think honestly for a second of how you react if your post gets a star, or if your thread gets a flag, or if a staff member is nice enough to applaud you. Think about your first reaction if someone has posted the exact same thread as you. What is your reaction if a mod actions you or moves your thread? When a fellow member is rude to you? How do you feel if you worked on a thread for a week and get no response and someone who posted a random youtube video and barely a comment gets thousands? How about if you get actioned for something and someone doesn’t even though they said something worse? One of your friends got banned?

Can you let something go without having the last word?
Can your belief be attacked by someone without hurting you?
Do you get frustrated with others’ ignorance?

The above questions are all rhetorical so I beg you not to painfully answer each one.

But if the answer to ANY of them is anything other than honest indifference then such is the consequence of personalized thought … what you call your thoughts.
If someone challenging, criticizing, or applauding “your” thoughts triggers any reaction in you then you are personally attached to your thoughts and define yourself through them.

To be affected by dissent or by approval is an indication that the mind is reacting to either the giving or withholding of another mind’s approval.

We know that thinking minds require mutual approval for that is why we have ‘like minded’ communities, religions, political ideologies, social classes, cultures … and we know what happens when ‘like minded’ communities of any kind are at odds with other ‘like minded’ communities. Conflict happens, wars happen, destruction happens.

And all of this happens simply because from birth we are conditioned to think that we are own beliefs.

But are we really?

Can’t a thought be just a thought without having it be personal?
Why does anything have to be yours or mine?

All this of course is just an observation …
I’m not suggesting it is the whole truth.
Just a tiny tiny fraction of the truth that despite it’s lilliputian mass that unless observed, understood, and realized, sure initiates a great deal of unnecessary suffering. Suffering that can easily be peeled away and discarded simply by disconnecting one’s identity from one’s thoughts and the mind’s need to own them.

There’s nothing that I, you, nor anyone anyone else can add as far as information to realize the truth. Information is food for the mind and we’ve all had plenty of that. This is about peeling learned and conditioned information, one’s identification with it, so that all that we all already know can manifest.

And it is all available right now, and you don’t have to do anything other than stop adding stuff.

I hear you say: “Sdog just killed my Descartes and has replaced it with nothing. So now what do I do?”

Well to begin with Descartes was misinformed … there I said it!

What he should have said is not “I think therefore I am” … at best he should have said “I think therefore I think I am” … that is if he should have said anything at all.

And as far as what happens when one disconnects their identity from their thoughts?

Everything and nothing … but it happens without resistance, it happens in the present moment, and it happens truthfully.

One final note … all this stuff is simple observations. and could easily be, and if fact probably is, all bullpoop. But I observed it because I have done all that I described and suffered for it, and made others suffer for it. It isn’t meant as a lesson nor do I presume any position of authority on the matter. I just was moved to write it down so I did. I hope no one feels insulted by it, and if you do, perhaps there’s more truth to what I am pointing to that what you are willing to concede.

In closing … this is not my post and these are not my thoughts.

Cheers!

sdog

“If you think you’re free, there’s no escape possible.” – Ram Dass

via: ATS

Three Wise Men

The story goes as follows …

Three men met on a flight to NYC. They landed at JFK airport and agreed to share a cab to central Park South where their three respective hotels were located. They got in a cab and told the driver of their destination. The driver asked them which way they would prefer to go. One said take the Midtown Tunnel. The second said, not at this hour, take the Queensboro Bridge. The third said, you’re both nuts, at this time of day take the side streets and take the Brooklyn Bridge.

They got out of the cab and argued at length. And though they had a common point of origin, and shared the same destination, they could not reconcile a mutually agreeable route. In fact so important became the route to them, that by the end of their argument they forgot all that they shared.

So they started fighting, and others joined in and defended the route they thought was best. After cursing each other they each got in their respective cabs and took their own route convinced that their route was the only true route. And disciples of each route wrote of the virtues of their respective routes, and convinced others of its merits. They built great buildings to speak of the routes and honor the original route takers.

And they all forgot that all routes started at the same location and led to the same destination.

And now, in year 4010, 2000 or so years since the original argument, after countless deaths and immeasurable suffering as a consequence of differences of simple route variation, they are still arguing … a lot.

It is fashionable to declare that it’s not the destination it’s the path that matters. And although that mantra is true enough, it is not entirely complete.

The whole above story seems almost too ludicrous and ridiculous to even contemplate … that is if it hadn’t happened before and wasn’t happening now.

Above Top Secret

My Epitaph

Bigfatfurrytexan

Just wanted to note the arrival of Bigfatfurrytexan to the wordpress blog community and to the ol’ blogroll.

Make sure to periodically check out what is bound to be a fascinating endeavor on his part.

Btw …

… my apologies for being a little light on content the last couple of days, but I have been on the road  and busy with stuff in general.

I shall remedy this transgression over the weekend along with responding to all the great comments.

In the meantime, I just ran into this interesting new blog with a fascinating premise:

“An algorithmic approach to poetry composition using classic rock lyrics and google translator”

At: http://stairwaytopoetry.blogspot.com/

Cheers!

Equilibrium

Angelo never felt quite right …

He was a strong young man, bright, passionate, yet growing up he always felt out of place amongst his piers.  He felt a passing tourist in this world rather one of its residents. He wasn’t distraught about this fact, a little perplexed perhaps, slightly uncomfortable, but not distraught.  In fact he found it rather pleasantly dull and uneventful, though he did not spent much of his time pondering it.

The only aspect of his life he found vexing at the age of fifteen was his father’s persistent insistence that he should decide what to do with his life.  In the 1950’s, in this small Sicilian town, such was the norm and custom.  After all, all his friends were already committed to a craft or profession that would occupy and provide for them.  This, his father would remind him daily.

And such was once more the conversation, rather the soliloquy, that was taking place on a summer Saturday night as Angelo and his father walked to the festivities.  The touring circus was in town and that was a wonder to behold, a grand local event anticipated every year by all, including Angelo.

They sat down, the lights dimmed, the show began.

It was funny, it was exciting, it was exotic, and magical, it was all that was expected, until …

Until …

The lights went dark, the music stopped, a shuffle ensued, strange noises and whispers, and then … the lights!

Two masts, a rope in between, and a man, with a balancing beam.

Angelo had seen this before, nothing particularly new about a tightrope walker … yet somehow something was different this time.  The lack of a safety net was observed yet it is not what captured his attention.  But something did, almost instinctively, and a sentiment was triggered that he could not yet describe.

As the act began Angelo was mesmerized by it.  Something about the balance of the man, about his grace, his skill, his precision, his indifference to danger, something … he could not take his eyes of every one of his movements or the rope’s, Angelo was entranced.

He knew there and then what he wanted to do, he wanted to do THAT!

The rest of the show flew by as if it took a second and Angelo took no notice of it.  A million thoughts in his mind at once and his heart bursting with excitement.

The show ended, he composed himself, and started figuring out how he would tell his father of this decision.  What would his father say, he will surely think him crazy, he might even throw him out on the street.  But Angelo was determined …

And so it was that night at dinner when Angelo told his father of this ambition, and his father declared him crazy, and his father threw him out on the street.

It must have been midnight when Angelo found himself in the periphery of the circus.  The smell of manure and wine indicated as much.  He walked around the camp in a daze, smelling the food, watching the sparks of the bonfires, hearing animals and random violins.  Faces half made up looked at him with smiles, drunk performers stumbled by him, and all was perfect.

He found himself before a small tent, he walked in, and the tightrope walker stood before him.  Angelo sat down, told him of his experience, told him about his father, and with barely enough volume in his voice to cary his words, asked the man if he would take him in as an apprentice. Angelo said he would work for free, he would ask for nothing but a meal a day, he would work unconditionally, he would do anything to one day walk that rope … anything to learn that wondrous craft that he was called to, indeed born for.

The tightrope walker looked at Angelo and said yes.

And so Angelo’s destiny began to materialize and Angelo left with the circus that next morning and never looked back.

For the first year of his apprenticeship all Angelo was allowed to do in regards to his education of the craft is walk on a rope on the ground.  For a year all Angelo did is learn every fiber of that rope under his feet as if it was as familiar as his own skin.  First on a slack rope, then on a rigid one, by the end of the year he knew every bump and twist of the rope and walking on it was as natural as pacing the ordinary ground.

On the second year the exact same thing happened, but with the rope now a foot off of the ground and the beam in his hands.  Angelo felt the slack, learned to balance himself, compensate for the rope’s elasticity.  And by the end of year two, after tortuous repetition and practice, Angelo felt on that rope as if he were born on it.

On the third year of his apprenticeship, the rope beneath him having become first nature to him, he learned all the tricks, and all the showmanship.  The rope was raised to a hundred feet, the net beneath him, and Angelo became a master at the skill of tightrope walking.

Angelo fell often, he never complained, he was the happiest soul on earth.  And after three years happily devoting his entire existence to his craft, he was incredible!  His master himself stood in wonderment at Angelo’s skill and grace.  His master thought Angelo the best tightrope walker he’d ever laid eyes on.

To Angelo the rope was no rope at all.  His skill and comfort upon it was such that the rope might as well been a bridge.

And so the night of his debut came.

The lights went dark, the music stopped, a shuffle ensued, strange noises and whispers, and then … the lights!

And Angelo stood where he once gazed, ready to take the first step.

He stood there confidently, for the rope was his home, his skill was beyond doubt, his talents second to none.

He looked down, he saw that there was no net, and thought of the peril.  His mind suddenly aware of consequences and his heart filled with fear.  He tried to shake it off, after all there’s no difference between a foot and one hundred feet to the feeling of the rope.  And his skill was not an issue … he could do this as he had done it thousands of times before.

Sensing the rising anticipation of the crowd, and with these thoughts filling his mind, Angelo took his first step upon the rope …

As Angelo fell to the ground to die, and as he flew through the air for what seemed like hours, he wondered how this happened to him … he wondered how he let his mind create the very fear that was about to kill him, and sadness overtook him in his wonderment of how and why he allowed this of himself.

I wonder too …

Also available on: http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread598071/pg1

Civilization

I’m at the airport in Paris waiting for my flight back home to Washington DC .

I have discovered the definition of a civilized nation … it is not in its culture, history, language, art, architecture …

It is defined by the fact that it still has a smoking section at the airport.

The ability to self destruct at one’s convenience is a fundamental right … only a virtuous nation will provide such comforts.

See y’all on the other side of the water.

Cheers!

On another note …

I dished out the big bucks and registered our own domain name!

Can you believe schrodingersdog was’t taken?  🙂

So as you can now see on the url we’re real and with it internets peoples!

No worries about having to re-bookmark the home page as the old wordpress still works and redirects automatically.

What will I do next?   😀

Feedback from the Dog-Heads please!

I have noticed that every once in a while wordpress, in order to pay their bills, will embed a few ads on comment pages. To be clear I see no revenue from those ads.  I have to carry them as a part of the agreement for their free service.

No problem there, they provide the service and software for free so I take no issue with that, especially since the ads use up very little space and are low profile.

However I want your visits here to be as enjoyable as possible and not to be encumbered by lots of ads.

I have the option of turning them off for about $30 a year.  I have absolutely no problem spending that to improve the user experience … all I am seeking from you is your take on whether or not it does have that affect.

So if they are a distraction and are bothering you just let me know and they’ll be gone forthwith … if you’ve never noticed them or they don’t bother you in the least I’ll do nothing.

Also, I welcome and appreciate any constructive input as to any idea you may as to how to improve the site.  This is literally my first rodeo so I’m really all but winging it.

Cheers and Regards!

If I may take a moment …

… to earnestly thank everyone who has taken a little time from their days to come by and visit this silly place.

I was just looking at the blog stats and we just got our 1000th visitor (about 500 visitors each month for the first two months).

I can’t tell you how surprised, humbled, and appreciative I am for this … whereas these are tiny numbers in the context of a big internet, each and every visit means a great deal to me and I truly cherish it as if someone had taken the time and effort to visit me in person.

So thank you so so much, both for your visits and your comments … thank you.

An Invisible Force

The only things I kill are mosquitoes when they are near me and that’s only cause I’m allergic. And when it happens I literally almost cry about it. Something about karma, the universe, and living things just affects me this way. Though I hate any type of insect I will always go out of my way to do everything to get them out of the house without harming them. The idea of harming life is incredibly upsetting for me.

Same thing with the news, that’s why I don’t watch it but instead read about it on the web. I can also never watch horror films or anything gory without high risk of intense nightmares. Btw, I get really furious and upset when someone posts something horrible on a forum or blog without a disclaimer and I inadvertently see pictures. That also triggers many nightmarish nights. I remember when I was around seven, I was watching the news, and there was footage of a massive fire in a Brazilian hotel. And they showed a picture of someone jumping out the window to their death … to this day (and 9/11 footage didn’t help) I have nightmares of that vision. Without judging anyone I literally am another species from those who can watch things like “faces of death,” nothing in my being relates to that existence.

I know I know, I’m a little girl.

But here’s the main thing I wanted to share …

I remember when i was growing up my parents used to switch me boarding schools every year from the age of seven till I finished school. Often in different countries. That meant that I used to get picked on a lot. Up until a certain age (13-14) I never fought back, literally stood there like a martyr and let it happen in complete peace. Then it got out of hand and I started to defend myself, but here’s the odd part … I remember many fights that I never started but that I was winning. And I remember having this almost divine fuse inside me. I remember standing on top of another kid wanting to hit him and physically not being able to move my arm no matter how hard I tried. I just could not do it. Could not bring myself to harm another being any more than was required to defend myself. It is a strange sensation and a beautiful one in retrospect.

I’m not sure if I am describing it correctly, it literally felt like an invisible force holding me back. And almost instantly all the adrenaline and anger would just fade away into a sense of peace … then I would just stand up and walk way.

Now the first part is not uncommon … I have many friends who don’t feel at peace killing anything more aware that a plant. The aversion to graphic imagery is also not uncommon.

But that last thing I have never heard anyone describe it to me as an experience. That doesn’t mean it is unique to me, I just haven’t discussed it with many people in person. In fact I had completely forgotten it until recently.

As you can tell …

… I decided to change the theme of the blog.

Although I liked the dark look I found the grey letters on a black background and small font increasingly hard to read.

This theme, although a little more inappropriately cheery, seems a little more visually friendly.

Hope you guys like it … please let me know if you don’t and I’ll either change it back or find a new one.

Big Love!

Serge

Odd desire …

My father has lived in the 14eme arrondissement for a long time … it is a wonderful neighborhood which includes the Montparnasse Cemetery.  Many extraordinary folks are resting within its walls, and although it is no more than a five minute walk from his apartment I have never been moved to visit it.  I have a rather indifferent view of cemeteries in general … they are fundamentally anachronistic and have always seemed humorously irrelevant to me.

But I think I’ll take a stroll over there tomorrow … maybe to meet some folks long gone, maybe to escape the infernal drilling down the street.

Just because …

Something to keep an I on

I’m fascinated by technological singularity …  I am also weary of it.  Not because I fear it, but because it an exponential step in the wrong direction … the ultimate expression of a desire to complete one’s self from the outside in.

It is interesting though, and it is happening … these guys are “dead” serious.

The Last Conspiracy

http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread586404/pg1

Greetings,


In a recent moment of clarity an epiphany dawned upon me, one that I wish to share with you.


Perhaps epiphany is the wrong term … a better word would be realization, the culmination of several already known smaller epiphanies coming together to a greater understanding, to a greater acceptance of truth as it is rather than I might want or perceive it to be. And like all such realizations, it revealed itself as if someone flipped a switch, and all was peaceful and rather funny.

If you bear with me, I will try to outline it as best I can. The deconstruction is rather lengthy, the end result, as all truths is simplicity itself. And the truth, in generalized terms, is this:

Secrets Societies aren’t created to keep secrets, secrets are created to justify the existence of secrets societies.

A couple of disclaimers before you protest …

1. When I say “secrets societies” I do not mean secret societies, I do not simply mean/include groups like the Masons or other “official” secret societies, nor do I exclude them. What I am referring to can be the underlying premise/dynamic of ANY group of people, in ANY social context, who collude/conspire to keep secrets from others.

2. The following realization is not applicable in every circumstance. As I explain further I hope to be clear that it is in fact this absence of absolutes which makes the thought that is to follow somewhat important. For in the end it will, as is always the case, be up to every individual to find their location relative to the truth. This is not a mathematical equation, this is simply a pointer that one could use, should they choose to, to separate what is true to them and what is noise.

We’re stepping back from the forest to see the trees, but before we do and for reasons that will become clearer further down the line, a warning …


George Hanson: They’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent to ’em.

Billy: Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut.

George Hanson: Oh, no. What you represent to them is freedom.

Billy: What the hell is wrong with freedom? That’s what it’s all about.

George Hanson: Oh, yeah, that’s right. That’s what’s it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it, that’s two different things. I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. Of course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free, ’cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are. Oh, yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom. But they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ’em.

What is a secrets society?

It is simply a group of people who’s self worth is highly derived from seeing themselves as having information others don’t. No matter what that information is and regardless of its worth. It is the egoic mind seeking superiority over others just to feel important. And it requires feeding from other ego based entities wanting to know their secrets simply because their egos cannot stand not knowing.

Never mind that knowledge and information have nothing to do with each other, the ego will casually interchange them to its benefit. For information is external and knowledge is internal … the latter being of no value to the egoic mind it will substitute one for the other as if they were the same thing. That is in fact the greatest “achievement” of ego.

To the group of egos that makes a secrets society, the greatest vexation to their existence isn’t the discovery of the secret itself that inflicts the wound, but rather the fact that that which they value the most, the ability to keep secrets from others has been breached. For that is an affront to their very purpose and the grand egos which collude to achieve it.

Think of it this way, most who seek to find the secrets of others, do so primarily because their ego cannot accept that something is kept from them … the “something” is not material, it is simply an egoic vehicle itself. The driving force for their impetus is simply to know something simply because it is hidden from them. Not because they know its nature, its value, its importance … this is, in the purest sense, an egoic dynamic.

The relationship is simple … those who keep secrets and garner their self worth via keeping secrets, are empowered by those who seek to empower their self worth by knowing them. The secret could be an empty box, in fact often is, it simply doesn’t matter because for most the very idea that a secret is being kept from them precipitates egoic panic, as much as for others who “know” something others don’t precipitates egoic ecstasy.

If you bear with me, I want to share a story I wrote back in the day. The story is a byproduct of having spent the greatest part of my life working in the nightclub business. This allowed the benefit of many hours of human observation … the story goes like this:

The Velvet Rope Parable

A man walks towards the velvet ropes of a nightclub with both excitement an apprehension. He has heard that this club is where one wants to be, though he has never been there himself. As he draws neared to the ropes a sense of uncertainty overwhelms him for he doesn’t want to be rejected, it will hurt him personally if he is, it will reduce him should he be thwarted by strangers. He gets to the bouncer and the bouncer tells him he can’t come in. Deeply vexed after questioning the bouncer on whether he is aware of who and how important he is, he informs the bouncer as to why he is important enough to be let in. The bouncer of course loves this for he thrives on the empowerment, no matter how insignificant. The man bribes the bouncer $50 and the bouncer lets him in.

After spending half an hour in the main room, the man notices another rope leading to another room … a VIP room. Again he is drawn to it and again he is rejected. He cannot stand for this so he bribes that bouncer $100 and is let through.

Imagine his curiosity when he discovers that there’s yet another rope, yet another more exclusive room just beyond one more rope which he needs to enter in order to feel whole. Another bribe and he is in.

At the very corner of that room there’s predictably yet another rope to cross to another room. So once more he reaches in his pocket to get through. And as he crosses that last door he realizes that he is now in fact outside the club standing on the street on which he started.

Life abounds with little ego clubs … they all have their little secrets, their little VIP rooms, and they are for the most part totally meaningless and rather ridiculous at their core.

When the ego drives the quest there’ll never be a satisfactory answer, there cannot be, the ego depends on trying to feed/complete itself with attaining something external and in the future. There will always be another roped door. That is how it sustains itself, for if an answer is found to a question that doesn’t really matter, it will just add another question and perpetuate the dynamic. That is its reason for being, that is what defines it …not the honest inquiry, but the blind self-perpetuating search itself for its own empty sake.

Funny part is that although those who keep secrets organize themselves to often go to extraordinary lengths to keep them to sustain their ego trip, they do not resent those who seek to uncover their secrets … primarily because their egos depend on the outsiders’ ego for their raison d’être. It is a mutually defining, codependent, symbiotic relationship founded on a zero sum premise … namely that the sum of the egos defining themselves by keeping secrets from others is equal to the sum of the egos seeking to know those secrets for no other reason than those secrets are kept from them.. Once again, not because they matter but only because they’re secrets.

It is the the grandest expression of duality, the grandest expression of the two sides of the same coin dogma, the ultimate conditioning, the ultimate illusion, it is based on nothing but relativistic contrived abstractions, and it is all self inflicted.

You see, The Last Conspiracy is the unrecognized complicity of egos to define themselves and each other by separating themselves into two groups … those who have secrets and those who want at best to know them for the sake of ego gratification, at worse to be the ones having them for the same reason. No getting around it, the greatest divider and conquerer of you, is you … one’s self imposed dichotomy between their mind perceived self (ego) and one’s true self.

Yes humans are inquisitive by nature, but there’s a difference between honest inquiry, and reactionary egoic inquiry.

And yes there is even a place for secrets, they have their practicalities, no more no less.

At its most simple, those egos who conspire to keep secrets from others do it only to sustain/gratify themselves and exercise power and authority on the egos who feel slighted that they’re being kept out of the loop. But that power is small, self consuming, vicious, and most of all non-existent towards those who are indifferent to the dynamic. For those who’s egos thrive at the prospect of knowing something/anything that someone else doesn’t, It is a base approach of “Regnum Defende” or “defend the realm” … not by a small coincidence the motto of MI5.

There is only one approach to all this … and that approach is honest indifference. An indifference based in the inner knowledge that there’s nothing you actually desire behind that velvet rope. Or at least nothing that should affect you personally if not informed of it and that the rope of denial doesn’t define and isn’t proportional to the desirability of that which it protects.

Keep in mind that there is a vast difference between apathy and indifference. Apathy is literally the absence of emotion and passion, it is often the result of resignation in light of being beaten down. Indifference, true indifference in the way I mean it, is the absence of a personal position, it is existing outside of egoic reactions to irrelevant circumstances after the realization of their irrelevance. But please note, one cannot act indifferent, one can only be indifferent. For to act indifferent is a willful exercise, and by definition if one acts willfully they are not indifferent. So the indifference has to come from within, it has to be true and pure, it has to be not applied.

Also please appreciate that this thread is an observation not a judgment. The degree to which this observation is unsettling or not is a matter for each person and the comfort level they share with their reflection. That is as always, the only real barometer.

Having said that, if one were to observe the nature of the participants in such a conspiracy and assign relative virtue or vice, one would observe that the egos of the secrets keepers, although equal in degree to the secrets seekers, are often more vicious and petty. This is primarily because most folks who seek secrets do it dogmatically and unaware, as a continuation of a momentum they have always sustained for reasons they do not know. For most of us it is a matter of unobserved habit, a built in inertia that doesn’t solicit reconsideration until noted. Until recently this is indeed the way I myself proceeded.

But those who’s egos and self worth is defined by the false empowerment of secret keeping, for the most part know and are aware of their disingenuous existence, mostly because knowing the secrets is to know that the secrets they are keeping are trivial and worthless. Hence their participation is willful and in full knowledge of the part they play and meaninglessness of their self identification. That is why they are often vicious, that is why they are small, that is why they are bitter, that is why they live in fear of discovery, and that is why their egos are violent and cruel. It surely has to be a misery to go through life that way, not to mention pitiful.

Most importantly this is why they harbor the greatest resentment to those who expose them through indifference. For an ego built upon a house of lies is by nature fragile, volatile, and vulnerable. And it sure as hell doesn’t like the mirror of truth shining upon it. For it is in permanent panic of being discovered for the emptiness it is founded upon. I have seen this panic manifest, it isn’t pretty, for it will lash out indiscriminately and scorch the earth around it, including attacking those in its own little group, to protect and sustain itself. There’s a great deal of time and effort invested in living an egoic life, as in the above quoted dialogue from Easy Rider, may the universe help anyone who inadvertently or purposefully orients that light onto another’s “precious.”

Furthermore …

… both sides of this coin are so easy to manipulate … in my more Machiavellian past I used to do it myself. Paying people with titles, and empty power, ego stroking, perceived stature, and secrets. For the most part I cannot assign any fault to those who will take advantage of others’ egos to their own ends for those who make themselves available in this way deserve nothing more, in fact they all but beg to be fed and manipulated in this fashion.

Please note once more that this isn’t an umbrella observation, to be blindly wagged by one’s ego takes many forms and is an approach to life that will hitch a ride on the vehicle that drives the path of least resistance. To say that anyone who is part of such a “secrets society” is part of the above described dynamic would be a fallacious presumption. One can be part of any social structure and be driven by their ego but they can do the same coming from a place of truth. The clue is not the “thing” itself but knowing and being true to the source of one’s behavior. The only catalyst is one’s self not the behavior itself. It’s just that some behaviors lend themselves more easily to the attachment of ego.

Now I understand that for many, what I have just expressed is the last thing they want to hear or consider … it is true that this mirror I put before you is unsolicited, you (or whatever is in charge in you) may indeed discard it at your leisure. There are many many many people who’s lives, small and blind as they may be as a result of the above self-indoctrinations, are deeply rooted or in many cases defined, on these mutually dependent illusions of the mind.

As a result, many egos will thrash, protest, and curse the mirror for reflecting the image they do not wish to see … namely their true self. Insults will ensue, “who the hell does he think he is” and/or “you think you’re better than me” syndromes will rise up … and like I said earlier, nothing will bring more resentment out of an ego than seeing another person not willing to participate in the quagmire in which it dwells.

That’s fine, in the end I have no personal position towards any of this, mirrors are at their most fundamental, nothing if not indifferent. In this regard, I refer to the following thought by Albert Camus : “A taste for truth at any cost is a passion which spares nothing.” This applies to all including myself … none of this is easy, these truths usually inspire but two reactions … violent mental rejection or the understanding that one cannot operate on those terms any more.

At its very essence this thread, this expression, is written with a single ambition. To convey this realization which recently came upon me. It is not to suggest that there is no virtue in the pursuit of truths or that there are no secrets worth discovering. It is simply to suggest a pause in your momentum, a moment of true stillness … a moment to look within and be honest about who it is that is truly in charge, who is the seeker. Is it you or is it your idea of you … your ego. And when confronted with secrets and those who think of themselves as grand for holding them, when confronted with a velvet rope, who is it that is vexed? Do YOU really want to be beyond that rope for honest motives, do you fundamentally even care, or is it because it’s chapping your ego’s behind that someone put a rope there?

And should the above expressed realization ring true, should you allow for it … consider how it is true of everything … after all the universe has no problems, only egoic positions do.

The Last Conspiracy is the conspiracy of Egos, for if everyone in the world conspired to deceive you, they still wouldn’t generate enough secrets to equal the truths we keep from our selves.

Many so called “enlightened” folk like to say that to be a person of said light one has to free themselves from their mind … that has always struck me as an odd thing to express and always felt to me as fundamentally missing the mark. I look at it this way … it is not about freeing one’s self from one’s mind, it is about freeing one’s mind from one’s sense of self (ego) so that everything comes from a place of honesty, kindness, and truth.

This thing we call life is too short to be controlled by velvet ropes, regardless on which side of the ropes one happens to be on.

That is all … to be.

On another side note…

… I just wanted to say great big thank you to all that visited yesterday.

After little more than a fortnight in existence, we had the highest traffic day to date … 48 visitors!

And I haven’t even told about this blog to the Mrs yet. 🙂

Anyhoot, I just wanted to note how appreciative I am that you nice folks decided to pay me and my silinesses a visit and for taking the time and effort to spread the word.

Thanks.

An introduction

Filing this one under the “answers to questions I didn’t think to ask” file, I wanted to point to a very interesting article/interview with Adyashanti … it is a little on the long side but probably worth a gander.

http://www.thesunmagazine.org/issues/384/who_hears_this_sound?page=1

An Invisible Force

So I was having a nice conversation with a friend … we were talking about our mutual inability to harm living things, and I remembered something from my childhood that I had forgotten. I found it ratherr interesting, psychologically anyway, and thought I would share it in case someone had ever felt something similar or were familiar with it.

So here it goes:

The only things I kill are mosquitoes when they are near me and that’s only cause I’m allergic. And when it happens I literally almost cry about it. Something about karma, the universe, and living things just affects me this way. Though I hate any type of insect I will always go out of my way to do everything to get them out of the house without harming them. The idea of harming life is incredibly upsetting for me.

Same thing with the news, that’s why I don’t watch it but instead read about it on the web. I can also never watch horror films or anything gory without high risk of intense nightmares. Btw, I get really furious and upset when someone posts something horrible on their website without a disclaimer and I inadvertently see pictures. That also triggers many nightmarish nights. I remember when I was around seven, I was watching the news, and there was footage of a massive fire in a Brazilian hotel. And they showed a picture of someone jumping out the window to their death … to this day (and 9/11 footage didn’t help) I have nightmares of that vision. Without judging anyone I literally am another species from those who can watch things like “faces of death,” nothing in my being relates to that existence.

I know I know I’m a little girl.

But here’s the main thing I wanted to convey …

I remember when i was growing up my parents used to switch me boarding schools every year from the age of seven till I finished school. Often in different countries. That meant that I used to get picked on a lot. Up until a certain age (13-14) I never fought back, literally stood there like a martyr and let it happen in complete peace. Then it got out of hand and I started to defend myself, but here’s the odd part … I remember many fights that I never started but that I was winning. And I remember having this almost divine fuse inside me. I remember standing on top of another kid wanting to hit him and physically not being able to move my arm no matter how hard I tried. I just could not do it. Could not bring myself to harm another being any more than was required to defend myself. It is a strange sensation and a beautiful one in retrospect.

I’m not sure if I am describing it correctly, it literally felt like an invisible force holding me back. And almost instantly all the adrenaline and anger would just fade away into a sense of peace … then I would just stand up and walk way.

Now the first part is not uncommon … I have many friends who don’t feel at peace killing anything more aware that a plant. The aversion to graphic imagery is also not uncommon.

But that last thing I have never heard anyone describe it to me as an experience. That doesn’t mean it is unique to me, I just haven’t discussed it with many people in person. In fact I had completely forgotten it until recently.

– Serge