The Manifold Aspects of the Delusion of Separateness, Book IV, Four Worlds One Self

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The pain of division is as nothing:

All knowledge is inversion, a result of lack, longing—a reflection, a negation. Warmth, the absence of cold; shadows only cast by forms bathed in light; self, perceptible only in distinction from Other—the Divine concealed solely by perception, a boundary, stubborn dissonance. A relationship through negation, for something to be known—ignorance either exists or must be assumed, remnants of the forgotten, reviled, and neglected—cast away as shells, mementos awaiting remembering.

Words manifest Something from Nothing, pure darkness: language—distinctions, differentiation, definitions, more words. All words are sacred—singular and purposeful, conceptually pure—all interpretations aside. Objects, containers, bridging order to chaos, dispersion, illusion. Rhythms of memory, sonic arrangements, symbolically represented, communal sacraments, themselves the shadows on the wall, ideal forms, miraculous, alluring, enchanting reflections, lacking context—detail. Veils. Smiles.

Describe the chair, in its chairness. What is that image? Now consider all possible other chairs. Do all these share the qualities described? What is inherent? The quality of an object that is sat upon? What makes a rock, a table, a bed, a stump, a horse, your partner—not a chair? What is a chair upon which you cannot sit? Is a chair a relation to intention, of purpose? Does the rock, table, bed, stump, horse, partner become a chair because it is so deemed?

Concepts, vibrations, forms, manifestation. High rates of oscillation generate greater density, rigidity, solidity—the outcome of this ecstatic dance, certainty: like an Oak, a Mountain, a wall. With time, water and wind carve crevices, contours—eventually springs, creeks, rivers, canyons, valleys, seas. The fertility, the wealth of what was—a wall, an Oak, a Mountain nourishing the valley floor, the coral bed. Longing gives way to attraction, Attraction gives way to certainty, Certainty gives way to longing anew. The colors are many, and the Light is one.

I AM, divided for love’s sake:

In wholeness, there is stillness, quiet—Absolute peace, ineffable, indiscernible, undifferentiated, void of thought, before word, and without consideration of deed. From the assertion of No Thing sprang forth a boundless view, a joyous light from whence descended a tumultuous darkness. From the darkness issued a terrible cry, indecipherable, preceding language, meaning. As if in response, the Word came forth from the Light—creation, the initial form, a precise vibration, solace, a reminder. In each opposition, lies a resolution in complements—reverse polarities, repulsion becomes attraction.

Of the Ordeals, refuse none, know and destroy the consoler and the consoled. Weight—avoidance, denial, shame—all-consuming fear, cycling, annihilation, release. Context a surface, a theatre for rehearsing dramas of tension, scripted narratives, bad faith. In seeking only Beauty, there is the quest for the grails, the heart of Truth. If imagination can render Sisyphus happy, healthy, grateful, then of what consequence is Ordeal? Sorrow is but a shadow, a ringing in the ear, passing, and there is that which remains—All existence is pure joy.

Desire is a veil, a wound, a chalice. Satiety belies completeness, self-satisfied, base climax and refractory repose, holding an idol before Truth. A seemingly vast emptiness, unfathomable, desperate, eager to be filled perpetually, only to be consumed, left barren, bare—no closure, no proliferation, no maturation, no scar, open—a commitment to suffering, inviolate. When this rent becomes mended, and then hardened, smoothed, shaped, refined, first as wood and then of silver—reflections, Remembrance.

Matter, appearing unaware, seeming inert, is full of spirit. Within the God of Spinoza, how could it be otherwise? Against a grey-mauve wall of rock, all variation, every edge, blend. Natives of this clime see a stairway to heaven, while it is insurmountable, or abysmal to the eye, the perspective of an alien. Hubris under these conditions, unawareness, bad faith, shortcuts portend utter destruction, calamity—the stone indifferent, success cannot be feigned.

For the chance of union:

Absolute Absence is fallacious, a jest, as is anything absolute. A secret always betrays its mystery, the Singular implies none, Multitude, the ineffable a terrible din. Any first by necessity is, must be the last of what was, is, could have been. Initiation, remembrance—differentiation conveys wholeness. To Be—or not to Be, that is the question. The Bard proclaimed: the heartache of a thousand shocks, t’is the consummation which all devout longing did manifest. “Come unto me” is a foolish turn of phrase: for it is I that goes.

A breath, a pause, a moment will be filled by a wondering thought, attention to Other in action, the Word of God, the vibration, Light, Love, Liberty, Life. In a boundless expanse, without beginning and without end—every point is the center—each thought unto itself a cosmos, every action destroyer of worlds, and the Word—regenerator of the world, the little world, heart and tongue. These spaces, shrouds—suggesting, divulging without detail that which is below, within. Anonymity is small, hermetic, a veil; Unanimity truth, understanding, balance.

Sun, child, hero, villain, saint, sinner—upon the precipice, with confidence, hubris. The dogs nipping, encouragement, and with leaping laughter that next pace, into the abyss, uncertainty, adventure, unquestionable success. The only failure diffidence, hesitation, the infernal question—”why?,” because yielding inaction, calcification, stagnation. Facets, perceptions, conceptions, belief—actors, pretenders to authorship clinging tightly to saccharin, false, idols of self. With every sacrifice, freedom, every surrender a becoming. A king relinquishes certainty, a saint relinquishes purity, a lover relinquishes solitude. The Word loving its reflection, can only descend, enter, to dwell therein.

Imbibing in sense, rapture, intrigue, the sole mystery hidden, secreted away as its revelation, too soon, too prescient, would bring calamity, ruin. This ecstatic dance reaches a fever pitch, a vibratory rate, intense, locking in patterns, emergent definitions, manifestation, solidity. From this stage, expression, myriad, the players unaware of the script, roles. Lovers getting closest to the truth. Losing self in Other, a model, a trinket suggesting the One reality, the joy of dissolution All.

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The Abyss:

When the locus of identity is centered externally—a willful rejection of truth, unmoored, impermanent, changeable, passivity in the world of action, the world of service—the personality eventually manifests the conditions for the ultimate betrayal: the abandonment of Self, the true heresy, the unpardonable sin.

Nothing is gained that is not inherently present; nothing may be redeemed that could possibly be lost. Redemption is a bad word, for it presumes debt, deficiency, an account awaiting settlement. A Star, as a result of function, of nature, radiates light and life, sustenance and joy to All, without diminution of substance or effulgence, approximately forever. Every thought, every word, every deed alters the balance of worlds both seen and unseen. To understand all things, to love all things, to perform all things, to endure all things—these are not virtues, they cannot be worn like badges, grasping for acknowledgement—they are consequences, choices, participation, engagement.

The task is not the salvation of others, what is being saved? What or who is being protected? The hubris necessary to make such assumptions exposes a deep insecurity, a grave misUnderstanding. Every piece of thinking meat is ignorant of something, at some point— experiences, opportunities, curiosities being infinite, and the limitations of capacity being quite finite. The aim is Remembrance, as if to awaken from an ageless sleep, to a Great Inheritance, already possessed.

Therefore worship is a path. Not hierarchical worship, nor worship of authority, but reverence toward the secret flame burning in the heart of each beast, each child, and each sage. To approach another with absolute respect is not sentimentality, it is discipline, it is recognition. Those honored to serve humanity, via earned, lived, conscious, true compassion gradually step by step become incapable of contempt. Distinctions vanish, every distinction reveals another facet of the One Light. Humility is born, not of weakness, but from lived experience, perspective.

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The Image:

Descending through the firmament, the Word came to rest upon the Water, bringing calm, at the point of impact, rippling outward concentrically for eternity. Perspectives shifted; those things above the mists, in the Air and the fire of Light, assumed the qualities of the Light—effervescent, beauteous, orderly. As the Waters settled, and the Heavens were arranged by the Administration of the Active, there arose the possibility of seeing. Distinction. Above and Below. Light and Shadow. Nature, astonished by Being, swooned deeply upon the face of the Divine, ordered itself to convey this beauty, to reflect it.

The Reflection:

Anthrōpos beheld the Image and was filled with wonder.
Narcissus beheld the Image and was consumed with desire.
Anthrōpos saw Beauty and sought relation, unity.
Narcissus saw Beauty and sought domination, possession.
Anthrōpos found completion in the reflection.
Narcissus only saw self in the reflection.
Anthrōpos found a doorway.
Narcissus built a prison.
Anthrōpos entered the world.
Narcissus abandoned the world.
Anthrōpos engaged, became participant.
Narcissus obsessed, became spectator.
Anthrōpos loved the Beloved.
Narcissus loved the Image.
Anthrōpos remembered.
Narcissus forgot.

The Interplay:

Beauty itself is without intention, beyond motivation, it is an Echo of Remembrance. Is Truth self-serving, could it ever be? No! Beauty does not assert—beauty is expression, beauty is revelation, realization, balance—harmony. Mountains do not demand admiration, nor does a flower require affection. The Beloved does not compel devotion, demands not aught in sacrifice, makes no condition. All such longings, fascinations, obsessions, appreciations can only arise within the observer. Beauty is a recognition in the Heart, a recognition of Truth.

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Is a God to live in a dog? If the dog were merely, solely, only a dog in its dogness, what is it that draws reverence? What inspires affection, reciprocity? What hidden splendor peers through those deep, dark, soulful eyes? To worship the dog is not to mistake it for a god, but to recognize that God has not failed to inhabit the dog.

Identity, an expression of individuality, uniqueness, belonging. Amongst infinite possibility, infinite variation, infinite diversity, what is a Thelemite, a Christian, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew? Does the name reveal the Star, or merely a passing fashion, a t-shirt, shiftless? Is identity consistent with True Will, or a refuge from it? When does belonging cease to be communion and become enclosure? At what point does distinction become separation? Unexamined identity is Bad Faith. What begins as orientation hardens into certainty; what begins as communion becomes enclosure. Names become walls. Symbols become idols. Distinction becomes separation.

A sword, an arrow—discernment measures action, current position, now in relation to course, to the Path. In all the meanderings—with, to the left, to the right, to-and-fro. Each correction, each choice, a reorientation to Center. The pain of division is the price, the consequence of adventure, deviation, misapprehension, the entry into the crucible of who, what, where, when, why. Because! To forget, to remember, and to forget again.

The wall, the Oak, the Mountain was never the World. The Daughter, the extension, full expression of the Mother—the womb wherein ALL is begotten, and to which All will return. Manifestation is required for forgetting, where remembrance can occur, wherein the possibility to Rejoice, to imbibe, to leap into the abyss, to celebrate diversity as a celebration of Unity. In this, the Kingdom, all is fulfilled, all is realized, all is resolved.

“But if you know what life is worth
You would look for yours on Earth
And now you see the light
You gotta stand up”…. Stoop not down, Rise up, Rise with the rapture of being, Rise with love of diversity, Rise with courage in your heart, Rise with the Dawn, Rise with the Sun at the heart of Soul.