Random shite gathered into a word doc...
The Glyph Ryder
Sometime ago, amongst my numerous pasts I had come upon a forgotten secret known only to few circles within recorded memory. I was past my prime in that life so long ago and was silently seeking some meaning to such a transient and painfully mortal life.
There’s so much to recount but what I will say is that in that search I had found something much like a key. It wasn’t a physical key as if one might use to unlock a door; rather it was a concept…more unto a feeling. I suppose you could call it pre-conscious tunnel not just into my memory but also into the memory of all that have come before me.
I had somehow stumbled upon a spiritual glyph that focused my consciousness through it. As I passed through this glyph I emerged on the other side and burst into an ever-spreading spectrum of total reality. My mind reeled as ever fiber of my being stretched and separated into the holy oneness all around me. I felt myself disincorporating into a euphoric bliss. But the same glyph that put me over the edge also was pulling me back. Back and retreating through the focal point and back to the moment from whence I was first taken.
Symbols
Symbols are much like a doorframe. They define one’s perspective of that which lies beyond this temporal barrier. The mere shape of a symbol alone evokes subtle sensations; it is a complex illusion.
Everything symbolizes something. In that we find that we, ourselves, are symbols as well. We are a complex layering of residual reflections…or perhaps-resonance.
We take into ourselves and define a unique symbol not like any other. And even as this is so, we are inextricably drawn together in myriad forms of commonalities.
To some we look with positive admiration. There are those people, events, and communal thoughts whose unique symbolism is reinforced either as a positive or negative resonance.
Now…as a brief exercise, let’s imagine that symbol as an archway.
This is a focal point of power. That which lay on the other side either draws us or repels us by its manifestation. We in turn may approach this symbol and stand astride the divide as if we stood beneath the massive, age worn Trilithons of Stonehenge. You can almost feel the power as you come into focus, framed within this moment.
And it is here, enrobed in our symbolisms that others might “see” through us as an avatar. In turn they may come to know that “symbol” which we each represent.
The observer’s perception, although unique and their own, is ultimately shaped by our presence within the gateway.
What one may see in such a moment is the symbol shining forth or through the shadow we cast as we obscure access to that which lies beyond.
A symbol invoking reaction from yet another, deeper set of symbols.
Death of a Civilization
With the advent of modern medicine mankind has managed to dramatically distance itself from its natural biological processes. The heralding of longer life spans and other wonders has significantly altered our lives in a mere 200 years. The disparity between what we are manufacturing and applying to our bodies and the natural environment is quickly beginning to disrupt the gene pool. As each moment passes, our lifestyles render us vulnerable to an alien environment; an environment made alien by our industrialization and consumption. We surround ourselves in a mock world where almost all the amenities of life are provided for by our own hands. But now those very hands that have wrought such wonders are beginning to tighten their grip on the throat of humanity. We are quenching our own light. Our populations are genetically weakened and ripe for a plague. As the demands for resources increase, the natural world around us diminishes. Soon the planet we live one will not be able to create, maintain, or regenerate those resources fast enough to meet the existing demands. At some point, a mass of bodies will hit the veritable ceiling and the maximum burn of civilization will set in. A large die-off punctured with violence & destruction will ensue. Those individuals or groups with the strongest hold on resources, or the ability to take those resources from another...those will be the ones that people will remember. A united world population will dwindle back into remote pockets and world trade will crumble. With the cessation of resources people are then forced to look to the seasons and land, at the mercy of Mother Nature. They will scavenge the monstrous bones of a dead and dying civilization. The pages of history will be burned just to keep warm at night. All the data stored on electronically encoded media will be useless to the majority of the survivors...but available to the few who might have prepared.
This great beast of humanity has been made infant, again. Failing to make that next successful step in our evolution. We instead devolve to a lesser form that is able to live within the accommodations of our natural environment. It is here that the civilization sleeps. And yet while it sleeps one might wonder if there are any keepers? Those that do not sleep but instead remember. Those whose gaze is long and all seeing to the 4 horizons. Someone must remember so as not to make the same mistake, again. Someone must somehow record the trials and tribulations of our journeys. Someone must see this story through to its completion.
From “The Messianic Legacy” by M. Baigent, R. Leigh, & H. Lincoln
Supposedly from the 1959 publication series “Circuit”:
“The Text includes statements such as the following: “Everything is found in symbolic form. Whoever know how to interpret the hidden meaning will understand. Humanity is always in a hurry, preferring solutions always to be given out . . .””
This ‘profound’ realization of symbolism that I’ve been running into lately continues to surface. Now, I did read another article about the same said publication a few months ago. Perhaps I read this very same statement in there. Regardless, prior to reading it I was already toying with the whole ‘power of symbolism’ concept prior.
Personality Theories
Copyright 1997, C. George Boeree
I have found that his (Carl Jung) theory sometimes attracts students who have difficulty dealing with reality. When the world, especially the social world, becomes too difficult, some people retreat into fantasy. Some, for example, become couch potatoes. But others turn to complex ideologies that pretend to explain everything. Some get involved in Gnostic or Tantric religions, the kind that present intricate rosters of angels and demons and heavens and hells, and endlessly discuss symbols. Some go to Jung. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this; but for someone who is out of touch with reality, this is hardly going to help.
A Taste of a Vision
In my mouth is this taste, a vision swelling like a droplet that’s ready to burst. I’m haunted by this overwhelming emotion that permeates every moment of my life. I am held shackle-bound and rapt by this slow moving collage of memory. Religion, to me, is a journey past the confines of the self. There is a strong desire for unity that cannot be had alone on one’s own. Companionship transcends the self and in its profound materializations, has created a great body of history or ‘recorded memory’. Sifting further through the material plane it ignites into social cultures divided by region and disparate histories. It is only now, in the past few hundred years that we can now look back at this vast tract of memory and begin to assimilate the pieces, not by how it was remembered, but how it affects us and our relations within the context of ‘now’.
I want to transcend and move on. And when I say that, it’s not a mortal death and the grim entrapments that I think of. I envision the evolution of man past the morass that we’ve been stewing in. I envision the full assimilation of our past into a vehicle that can push the united whole forth into the unknown. Is that selfish? Is it pathetically noble? Does it matter? What would you rather have: a living body that survives? Or one that dies?
Right now, the world is a static-storm of noise where every voice is being drowned out by the other and at some point it’s going to bust and storm, leaving it its wake the quiet of death and the promise of somber new beginnings.
A Thought - 3/30/2004
If there’s a personal goal in all of this, it’s to find the line in-between and then follow it the hell out of here.
