A New Age of Mysticism Ushered in by a Jester-King
Again, with the ticks of the hands of the nonsense of clocks, we mark the delusion that time is something other than a functionally idealized contrivance of consciousness.
As we do this, another contrivance of our hyper-delineated consumption-driven-growth reality — the Internet meme of the moment — bids good riddance to 2016, AKA the worst year ever.
I beg to differ.
Though on the surface, I agree that 2016 delivered a lot of unwelcome news, I prefer to think of it as the final pangs of childbirth. For change is afoot. Massive change. And as they say, eggs must be broken for omelettes to be had.
Is it possible that, in the surreal probability flux of this present historical moment, under the looming prospect of a jester-king, everything has come into question at a crossroads in the evolution of human consciousness?
What if, in some collective critical mass quantum mechanical eye of the storm, all bets are off now? What if the clay is softer and more pliable than it’s ever been?
What if enough of us have decided we’ve grown weary of defining ourselves through the acquisition of trinkets and accolades just as we have also suddenly come into possession of unprecedented access to knowledge and understanding of the mystical nature of reality and the truth of the shared unity and divinity inherent in all that exists?
As we shift from a perspective that views consciousness not as a means by which we procure the accoutrements of identity from an arbitrarily delineated reality outside of ourselves, but rather as a means by which we come to understand that the self-construct is a delusion that isolates us from the grace of the one, indivisible reality transcending within and without, and each and other, there is bound to be distress in the system.
What if the turmoil of this moment is a culture-quake of a magnitude never before seen in human history? What if this moment is a collective shift in consciousness that now simply sees us taking out the trash? What if now is the pus of a healing wound or the reflexive wailing of a newborn afraid of a light it does not yet comprehend as the beauty of a new world?
What if the nerve-ending you read this on — that interfaces your nervous system with all the other nervous systems via the global nervous system that is the Internet — is awakening the possibility of our return to an Eden, which although forgotten has not been lost?
It is my hope that as we turn a corner; that as the wheat separates from the chaff; that as the new that has gotten old falls away and a new that is older than all there has ever been is again revealed, each of us can come to know now with growing certainty that we are not alone in seeing this happening.
Maybe in 2017 the transition that now rocks the core of all we thought we knew and believed will take hold in earnest; and as ancient, whispered-about answers that have always been available within become validated to us by the world without, we will find our way back, beyond race, religion, country, politics, money, branding, fashion, and all the nonsensical masks, costumes and contrivances we have confused with who we are.
In 2016, I endeavoured in earnest to say goodbye to the hyper-reductionist consumption driven growth control matrix and hello to a new age of mysticism.
And it is my belief that sufficient wisdom has already taken root for us to now know that it is precisely because it looks like rain, that we should all finally come out and play!
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