Almost moment by moment, of the seemingly impossible things that keep happening.
They keep happening. I look down at my own body; my legs, my feet. They are planted firmly. I feel my muscles. They ache from climbing up and down a goddammed 60’ tree a few times to try and get my stupid cat out of it. I am reminded even as I feel my body that I have opened to things beyond comprehension. I opened to perceiving that shadows are not a consequence of light and objects, but rather a phenomenon of their own which appear instantaneously alongside objects and light sources. It’s as if once I perceived it, the core belief deep in my unconscious changed.
I opened to perceive that my attention is not something I am in direct control of. That my attention is rather directed by my own unconscious or subconscious in order to communicate whatever is needed in each moment. And once I allowed myself to have the perception, it’s like something in my deep inner workings became more flexible. Unable to completely retain it’s former shape or size.
Once I was open to perceiving, I remembered having perceived all sorts of things which don’t necessarily contribute to a materialist world view. Perhaps which exclude a materialist world view.
I am reminded of the roundabout way that seems to be ubiquitous. Roundabout literally, figuratively, allegorically, temporally. When my son lost his beloved Mater truck in the brown leaves last autumn, in a park, I knew there was no way we’d find it by just looking. Even if we all scoured the ground in grids. It was simply too much the exact color of the leaves, and the leaves were drifted, scattering and there was no way to tell where we’d already searched and piles which had been overturned already or not been explored. I asked, explicitly, for my Cosmic Tower to help me find it. I wandered, as if guided by somethings unknown, on a walk around the perimeter of the park area, out into an unmowed section of waist high grass, back along a path, around some trees … And I happened to look up absentmindedly staring into the distance. My eyes focused. And there was the Mater truck.
Now that seems quite coincidental or like it could have happened to anyone. And maybe it was. And maybe it could. But wasn’t random. And it wasn’t a meaningless wandering. It was like I needed to meander and move through those specific areas of the landscape to move my perception enough; to become sensitive to the attention which would guide my eyes to the finding of the lost thing.
If I hadn’t meandered around, I would not have found the truck. I don’t have proof for this assertion. I just know it. I could not have been found in a direct way.
The story of Florinda Donner’s initiation into Toltec sorcery involved her traveling across the US-Mexico border. The physical meandering, the one wandering, the crossing of borders, are necessary physical acts. To behave without direct physical rational gain is to behave in unpredictable ways. Unpredictability allows us to listen not to the physical material world which is all too immediate and overwhelming, but allows for the spontaneous and unknown to influence us. It’s like a portal into another world.
Likewise, as I contemplated how we would proceed with our cat stuck at the top of a 60’ tree yesterday, I intuited that any direct attempt at a solution would not yield any preferable outcome. What I mean is that by climbing the tree in order to get the cat down as a direct attempt would be counterproductive. I contemplated more. I recognized a test. Not unlike the test of losing my cell phone; it was a personal test. I would find my phone either way. The cat would come down either way. But what way would excite me? What way enhances my experience and my life? What if I really perceived and therefore became open to believing in my ability to pass and master these little tests? That these little tests need not be life or death. But they can have stakes. What if I make it a little test and then receive genuine recognition from others in my victory, as with losing my cell phone? There is another unique and discrete challenge in others recognition. It somehow opens another facet, or facets.
And flying out without any concrete plan of how to get to my destination. I could have planned and made definite arrangements. And that would have alleviated a certain stress-but totally blocking off the opportunity for the unknown. Insistence on knowing necessarily precludes the unknown. And nothing of my unconscious may be seen or heard from in a planned, confirmed, clear itinerary. No room is left for anything else.
It’s not the direct path that can lead to finding magic. It’s the indirect path. The path of not knowing. Of not knowing whether I am coming or going, as don Juan would say.
And after becoming open to perceiving and experiencing these possibilities, I discover that there is no going back. There is no stuffing myself back into a materialist box. Not that I would pine for some dramatic life or death choice that would traumatically alter the direction of my life or psyche - in a sense I already did that. It was my childhood. Now is the time for the little things. The small but cumulative shifts which take me further, baby step by baby step. Slowly, slowly and by tiny increments I expand. I deepen. I connect to that unconscious aspect. I come closer to the center. I spiral inward… Always toward the center but never quite reaching it not unlike a parabola. There is no perfection. There is no perfect center, no perfect union except in the complete return which would obviate the Trinity of my existence, and therefore of the center. My existence outside of the unity is a fascinating discovery of the endless spiral inward. There is always a center to any space. Even that has a center. On and on and on
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