Friday, 15 February 2019

SHACK 552 TIGHT GRIP

Adam -eason.com

A monkey puts his hand through a bamboo cage in a sideways fashion and grips some delicacy and making a fist cannot get his hand out, his desire and hunger is so fixed and intended he has trapped himself. The Buddha was asked what is enlightenment and he opened a clenched fist also asked the question he said and depicted a flower in the sky, it was  flower in the sky and what was its meaning?

Like the monkey many of us have such a fixed intention that even though we maybe trapped by this we cannot let go some examples; religion, reality, political, cultural and so much more, they become so ingrained that we cannot see the imprisonment and most of them we have been taught and brain washed they appear to be sensible but real examination shows that they are ideas that have been concreted and appear solid and like examining the atomic structure of seeming solids and liquids under a scanning electric  microscope they appear as waves and nebulous other movements, in fact solidified thought and that could be said to be a dream or illusion made solid and real by belief and repetition, which lays down layers and layers of illusion and paints so many of these layers they become fixed and the illusion disappears as reality.

The mind holds tight, the tight grip of its ‘fake’ reality its virtual programmes turned reality and the clenched fist is determined to hang on at all costs to its apparent safety and security. On an occasion when something shakes loose or there is an awakening the fist may let go and the reluctant leaner bike rider suddenly rides and the tentative aspirant in the swimming pool lets go and the water supports them and they swim, until that point all these were fears and that were reality and riding swimming replace the reality of fear of those events and a new reality born until  an accident or death. We can still enjoy these pursuits as long as we realise they are not permanent and are not our safety and security and they and all things pass with time.

The flower in the sky to me is the illusion that what we see with our senses are but a fleeting part of life. We may if we are adaptable and flexible change many religions, ideas, political trends, fashion and really be a chameleon, yet never settle for a while and wandering to find more flowers in the sky that have wilted and died even though we have watered and tended them with care. But what of the sky, the endless backdrop, the canvas, the film, the void, the womb where the flower appears? This is the ocean where the waves appear from, the flower pops out, creation blossoms and yet is this reality or just a neat concept to explain how something comes out of nothing, the elusive God we seek and never see, the pot we feel, smell, touch and yet not the potter.

So giving up trying to see the invisible hand that made the pot, we may choose the pot as our realities even we may know at a deep level it is not real and permanent. It’s too hard to fathom this big bang god thing. So trillions over the years agreed on living a life of illusion that appears to be for ever and ever amen, and live the lie and deceit that our human cultures, religions, politics, fads and fashions hold the security and for some a rather nebulous and fearful death and after life will reveal the real reality and heaven and hell will finally sort it out.  

When we actually really see through the fabric of illusions, and realise the conjures trick as some magicians, wise persons, Shamans and Guru’s have along with many physicists have, especial in the quantum realm and it is interesting to read their quotes they sound more like Eastern Zen and Yogi Masters in some cases one just begin to see the fabric has holes in it and things ‘aint(aren't) not what they says they was’ and reality is another misnomer, as laid down by certain authorities probably in order to control these free thinkers.

When one really sees the tight grip, this tenacious octopus of the collective thought which is cemented like an overlay on Buddha’s sky, a thin veneer over the canvas, an overlay over the bare boards, the oil over the ocean, we really can be quite shaken and there appears to be nowhere to land our boat, no port to offer safe haven and person to allay our fears until we dive beneath the veneer, oil, overlay, chemtrails and all else and sink into the ocean that may not be as solid or real as our former false flag, yet at least we knew the pot and so what I want live forever, welcome death and until then I’ll live a life of unreal and to me real reality, so there and blow it all.

Yet we have been bitten and the taste of unknown hand of the potter is not felt as solid, it has not the feel of things, a quality a definition that human senses can put  a label on and say that is real, I see it, touch it, know it and yet I know its essence is a pot and it is as solid as its atoms and they are 99.99% empty space held together I now think in pot form by thought, in fact my pot is solidified thought and when I examine what a thought is it leads me back to a fleeting mind thing, some just a say an electronic event in the brain between synapses neurones and that is a merely electrical phenomena and that is about illusionary to me as anything else said.

When it really hits hard is when one actually sees the horror of the fact of the illusionary Universe and then sees it at first as a hologram then realises it is all in wave and frequencies, then the brain like a TV, Radio, Cell / mobile phone and so on are decoders and all is made to appear real and solid by the algorithms of the Universe and brain and the decoding devices and then at first it is an AH HA intellectual turn on, and then a mind buzz and then a numbing blinding awesome amazing blazing truth and then it quietens down somewhat and some disbelief tends to filter in and one’s world view and everything else seems to have no real meaning and one lives in the world but not in it.

It does take some acclimatising too and then one travels on in life in some way that cannot be pinned down, one rides the currents and tides of a sort of something that this reality if it is such or just a another variation will bring along its highway.  Here time has no intrinsic meaning so long live the traveller in no man's land and that’s about a false statement as any in this offering. For who can pin down real reality if there is no such thing?

SHACK
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