Monday, 3 May 2021

SHACK 972 FLYING OFF THE EDGE

Thrive Nation
 

FLYING OFF THE EDGE; this means to me an experience that I feel when all the imageries, fantasies, logical conclusions, maddening politics, religious dogma, emotional love, the mystery of bone crushing immensity of the galaxies and huge light years of trillions of miles of space travel, aliens, despotic pandemic lockdowns, masks and vaccines, the emptiness of atoms, disease, birth, death, in fact the whole gamut of existence, the immensity of immensity, eternity, meditation highs and lows, the ego and its endless conjugations, the inexhaustible mind gabble, the intrusion of my sacred silence and to this I am victim, so it seems.

I yearn for serenity and silence and yet the incessant background intrusion of empty rhetoric garbage seems either ego or the 'security services' bombarding me with electronic warfare which I know is possible(see www.geofffreed.com ---my blogs)or just a very inculcated, brain washed me and being seduced by the programmes therein.

So as I lay in bed ruminating in the morning I realise and experience these random intrusions and yet there seems a deliberate plan, a saboteur, the very devil itself, bent on waylaying me, setting subtle traps and snares and blunting my awareness, what foe is ready that hides in the dark caves of my unconscious, what denizens lay in wait to pounce and devour me, not me physically but emotionally and steal my silent awareness and feed me poison and cause my energy to seep away?

Suddenly I awaken from this haunting scenario and realise the falseness, the shallow reality of just a thought substance which seems and feels flimsy, not substantial AND in fact the very flimsy, non substantial nature of these cloud like, holographic sort of presentations, the gossamer like, a fine spun spiders web in spring or summer and it is fascinating how the ego spins this web of deception. This intrigue by the ego mind that wants and needs reasons and explanations which is the forensic detective in me and wants to know the ins and outs of everything only to be sure, to be sure and be safe and sound AND at the same instant knowing there is no such amenity in anything earth wise or thought wise.

I know logically that everything decays in the course of time, in fact time to me is the lasting life of a so called solid form and even radiation and its atoms decay in time, the length of a form in so called solid matter, which is really not solid at all and is time and it is an assumed reality, a conjurors show and I want to meet the conjuror and even the conjuror is a mere figment of the imagination.

And so I am caught in the very deception of illusion, the drama, the allurement of the unknown and yet fearing it, for if I solve the unknown magical hand that delivers the illusion, then there is a perceived nothingness, boredom, wanton mad emptiness and mental craziness a sort of wild unkempt wandering lunatic ---or is there? Really there is nothing to solve at all that in itself is the master magicians ultimate trick. The illusion of no illusion.

So there is tight elastic band that I feel and it is the 'voice of reason', it  holds the laws and social acceptances that I have been morally programmed and brain washed with and holds back and restrains my bursting 'freedom of expression' the madness of no reality, the gaping yawning chasm in my psyche and that dark hole I perceive as madness, boredom, impulsive unrestrained amoral and immoral wickedness and sin, that empty naked starkness may not be so and is yet another inculcated, conditioned reflex born out of programming and brain washing and what cunning connivance schemed this up, or is there indeed any cunning saboteur or is the very notion of a 'being 'an 'entity' or some such reality and is all this not real as well and only part and parcel of the package of brain washed inculcation and if so it is all part of the delusion of an assumed reality that never existed and never has existed and has been passed on by humanity and forever been part and parcel of the human condition.

This then leaves me when I realise the above and want to stretch the elastic band, the pliable tether and break free into the ecstasy I fleetingly feel when the band almost snaps. The edge is the maximum stretch before the band snaps and I feel at times to fly off the edge, I feel to soar into the emptiness I feel in the joy in meditation and that joy is the busted elastic band and yet strangely enough the programming has a remnant which maybe a small vestige of a sort haunting ghost which draws back one in order to inhabit the flesh spacesuit and allow it thrive under earthly conditions.

SHACK

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