Mythical Conversations // God Descends As A Woman

Krishna & Sophiachus - Pt III

K: Above all, the individual wants to prove, and sets out to prove incidentally, that he is special. But specialness is nothing superlative, because all that proves is that he is separate from nature, which is the most beautiful and wondrous spirited thing on the planet. So the flaw and contradiction is that as much as the individual craves respect and recognition, it is this very more-ness that disconnects him and sets him apart from what it would take to fit in. If he were merely to be content in taking a job, paying his bills, and practicing the art of being ordinary and, largely, invisible, like his comrades and peers, he’d likely find himself much happier than the task laden job of squirming up the pedestal and acting like he possesses some form of is-ness that’s different or even better from the rest of what exists on the planet, nay the world. 

And yet it is this very drive, that made humans more successful a being than any other animal on God’s kingdom. Even though man cannot climb, cannot run or swim particularly fast compared to any other four limbed creature, we are somehow smart or savvy enough to have created tools and materials that set us far above the rest when it comes to just about anything!: Observing the solar system, manufacturing weapons, spy technologies through which to market to the citizens and keep everything in line (lol:(), building beautiful architecture, creating instruments through which to showcase the artistry of our hearts through music, film - cinematography, the creation and appointment of government and jobs through which to create an organized and self-sustaining society and economy… no other animal has created such a complex and efficient system, however cruel and predatorial it seems (we are indeed the #1 predator, adding a tremendous carbon impact to the world at an unprecedented rate, putting everything else at risk, but hey! - we are special and smart so it shouldn’t matter, right?)

S: Yet arguably the impetus to create a vast sprawling network of societal functions is precisely that same mechanistic and even robotic motive that undertakes to wipe out the expressive drives of the individual, making of him just a cog in th ewheel, a worthy accessory to the motives of the machine, the drive to stave off the death impulse by creating, producing, consuming, and the rest of it.  The driving machinations of society is the very same thing that will be the death of it, and certainly us included (we vulnerable creatures, really), and the world itself by which we freely derive all of our materials and divvy up the locales. 

K: Right, we agree. Yes, humans are the number one predator within a vast chain of animals on this planet, in this ecosystem. Yes, society staves off the death impulse and also creates it.  And yes, the drive to be special is what created the very machine that drives us to be invisible, in order for things to work, by which (if it is too successful) we will all die and before even that, be replaced by better more mechanistic elements of the machine like robots and clones that will take over our jobs and replace our responsibility here. 

S: How can we bring back our humanity and our true expression, outside of these survivalistic and mechanistic impulses that in turn drive us to do harm to our very environment and home? 

K: A renaissance would be good. A renaissance has always traditionally been the saving grace of crashing empires and dying regimes. Sometimes a good coup goes hand in hand with a renaissance. Essentially, once people become savvy to their role in the incessant, ongoing allure and energetic costliness of the machine (of society) then they will demand much more for themselves and they will riot and revolt, orr simply refuse to go to work, to do the same things day in and day out that they hate and which bring only impact, and no joy. 

S: Is more joy necessarily a reciprocal factor to impact? 

K: Not necessarily, it depends on the nature of the impact, but in general, to do less harm is good, and to do more, usually or most often includes harm. I don’t know why that is the case, but one must be precise so as not to affect harm. The ancient practice of ahimsa is a ruling gesture of many peace-based spiritual practices and religions by which we seek to neither affect nor disproportionately change the fabric of reality, by way of any violence whatsoever, on a micro or macro level.  Hence the pious monks and nuns up in the Himalayas simply treading lightly and devoting their lives to prayer. 

S: Okay, but wouldn’t you say that the world would be in a better position if good people acted more resolutely and in an effort to produce a greater impact and to change the world?

K: (Laughs) All of this notion about changing the world -- as though that might be better -- the world doesn’t need to be changed -- it’s we who need to change -- us! 

S: Sure, but -

K: I know it doesn’t seem like it, but everything about the world is perfect. It is magnificent. There is no upgrading it. It doesn’t work that way. We were put on this globe, a perfect nirvana, in order to learn from it… not to change it!!  Imagine changing a child, wanting to accustome it to your laws and practices, seeking to give it some regimented structure and discipline. Well, most of the time, children who are put through these grueling programs that seek to change or upgrade their nature, end up becoming dreadfully boring automatons and cruel rule-setters and rats of the system by which they were born and raised. People call them Karens. They act like they care, but become simply part of the problem, wanting only to satiate the vampiric demands of the law instead of helping set in new ones, more aligned to real human values and morals, like protecting people’s sanctity of mind, their freedom (liberation), their voice, allowing them the freedom of travel, of expression, in fact, working to extend these inborne freedoms rather than curtail them or reduce their individuality in any way. A group that doesn’t work for the individual, for the little guy, whether that be a person, an animal, or a biome, is not a group at all, but a prison. The idea is to give organizations more power in which to carry out the drives and sociological imperatives of the small facets that make it up, rather than just another stick to drive out expression, art, and everything else. 

S: Sounds like the opposite of what’s been occurring. 

K: We’re coming to the end of the Kali Yuga. It has been rough, obviously, and it seems like it should have happened already. But here we are, 2020… zero floating vehicles, zero that run on water… clearly we have a ways to go. The machine has been absorbing and wiping out anything that endeavors to change it. That’s why the good people of the world have got to stick to their guns and to do so. 

S: Guns? Seriously Krish, you’re getting way too serious… we’ve lost about half our readers already… don’t you have any schnapps or sake… want to light up or something.. Idk about your d**g of choice. 

K: It’s meditation, shakti. 

S: Ah, yes, of course. 

K: I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s gin.

The two Ascended Masters push back their seats, each entirely a pro at never bowing to the exigencies of another’s game. Money, society, traps, neither and none are bound by the temptations, oftentimes fatal combinations of allures and aversions that prod, poke, pull, pressure, push, coax, lure, or otherwise manipulate the actions of mortal men towards all various manner of illusion that provoke him to consider himself immortal rather than simply a dream within a dream, put into motion only by the greater fates themselves, who only know where this is all going and where it will all end up.

Sophiachus procured a few marble blown thin tipped clear clear wine glasses in the shape of potion bottles (reminiscent of the perfume decanteries that used to set up next to the olde soda pop shops and creameries in the town square circa the 13-mid 1800s before a good old fashioned soda cream went out of vogue, and many fine delicacies were relegated to the more abstract realm of the interwork for old broads to purchase on their company credit cards while their husbands were out at work). Delicately decanting one of the dustier bottles of gin, she passed Krishna a tangerine soda to chase with, uncorking one herself, serene tangerine dream from the late 1600s at a pop shop in Albania.

Flavors and nuances are pretty much.. Lost to the modern world in the age of McDonalds and corporate expansionism, pretty much colonialism on c***k,” she explained. “But I like to keep around a few ancient relics that give us a… literal taste of… of what it was like to live back in a time when true craftsmanship was revered rather than insulted by a heady tumultuous mix of the less finer things, simple formulas of processed sweets and enrichments (fructose and fatty oils) to addict the brain and satiate the soul for but a few seconds.”  

From her steady grasp she poured a thick stream of bright orange liquid, bubbles, and mist.  Krishna looked taken aback.  “It won’t kill you,” she explained. “In fact, I tend to supercharge all the sweets in this shop with an herbal upgrade, to uplevel the cellular receptors in a way that allows us to store more energy and experience a greater refinement of life. It’s a charged mix of negatively enhanced and ionic rich electrons, adaptogens, and nervines that will repair the mind and supercharge the senses. Like your first experience of Sass, or Ecstasy (as for the latter, something I’ve never tried for myself).

The two knocked back a bottle, then a couple, then a few, of pop, with gin being  the unexpected chaser of the night, laughing and poring over ancient texts like schoolchildren. The night outside transformed positively from a decadent pitch dark black, to a raunchy yellowish pink haze, like cotton candy bubble gum marmalade peach toast, being absorbed back into the vortex of sky and reproducing its energies as a quite-still hovering mist, deliciously encapsulating the vast sprawl of forests for the trees, smothering all in a delicate white mist, lightening and equalizing the vision. 

S: … ‘There is nothing commendable about the persistent refusal to change the mind. Why I myself change my mind anywhere up to about a hundred times a day!;.. It’s just that usually I end up changing it back.’

K: That’s smart, dear spectre of glass. In fact, it is a pithy notion to remain resolute in one’s ideology, but it should take about a zillion and one recountings and returns to one’s own premise before we’re free enough to adopt it as one’s own. Because and besides, and this includes you dear reader, shameless voyeur, unanalyzed spectre, we cannot be certain which thoughts and ideas are ours, and which are mainly only caught in the net of our tuning and our seeking, like fish being caught up by a simple netting met to entrap dolphins and more intelligent and advanced life forms. We too wish to entrap only the best and most highly evolved manner of ideas, ritual, and understanding of our world. Yet oftentimes, through the sheer inanity and desperation of our seeking, our tuning forks are off and we entrap only the most banal and controlling of ideological form, some certain behind-the-veil spirits that only wish to make us promulgates of their newfound laws and superstition. To be sure that we’ve developed our own ideas, we have to test them and find out if they are in fact true, and if they are, they will acquire a more real-worldly momentum than that artifice which breathed them into existential plausibility. 

S: I wholly agree, Krish, wholly agree. For me it’s a matter of discerning whether in fact I adopted or created my belief sets, simply by deducing whether there are those within my camp that would create notions of a similar wavelength, resultas, or point of view, and reducing teh thoughts in my mind to the origins of sheer influence. In the search for a truly inventive, sovereign, and creationary standpoint, I must exercise much caution and aplomb, much sincerity and sketpticsm, and simply undo the majority of that which is done for me through pre-processing, what I would be misled to think that I infact did do. 

K: It’s doubly important that you not make decisions from an emotional center, but rather from the center of higher reasoning. It can be difficult to make that distinction on one’s own, but it’s always starkly evident from the point of view of another looking in. Whether your looking glass is hazy or shined through. It’s not hard to tell, except for the doer, the experiencer of things, locked in the aerial dance of it, , for them it may take years or decades to escape, to unlock their codex, matrix, grid, what have you, if they do not themselves, from sheer frustration, transfigure into a warlock and one doing the gridding, the ensnaring, the betwiching, betwixt the moments of choice, crafting contracts and subtle manifestations of obligation, custom, or extensions of traditionalism. 

S: this brings us back to the concept of free will. Who was it who said man everywhere is in chains?

K: It was Jean-Jacques Rousseau, originally, who said and I quote, “Man was born free, and he is everywhere in chains. Those who think themselves the masters of others are indeed greater slaves than they.” 

S: (Takes a swig of tangerine soda, chases with a swift and sallow shot of gin) Yes, good. Keep going.

K: Keep going? Nobody ever knows the… ah, one moment [dons spectacles, summons a book of nebulous contents hazed out for the voyeur but credible to him, leafs over to page 333…] “

*White Dawn Commence

All that is happening, is a reflection and portent of the past and the future, of all that is and ever was. 

The white dawn, trees encircled in a soft protective coat of fog, overtonze of white haze, are left stern and resolute on mountain tops within the faint all encompassing sprawl of the morning mist. It comes and goes, but mainly comes. It’s always gone by morning, leaving dew drops clear and true, translucent in the sunlit hue. Vogue and ancient, obscure yet opaque, the scene is but the stillframe before the action, but without the nouns, no verbiage could conduct, no sight could be seen, no scene could unfold in the whimsical silence of dusk and in the proverbial land of the moontime that leaves no scavengers nor loose ends of the night. 

A rope, caters to the opus, of waking and sleeping life, light treading softly in the wake of its passengers, unfurling the wake of nothingness upon the set giving rise to its activation upon each new waking day. 

They say that all of the disciples of God, once slaves to the disciplines they subscribe to by daylight, in order to pay the rent and light the wax in the early morning (if people still adhere to this, or to other ancient rituals connecting lives to lives of ancient past), will all shift and realign to new bridges, new synergies, a grander symbiosis, a crossing over of genres and across multiplicity of interdisciplinary platforms, evolving to hold the precious light of consciousness and technocratic emotional advancement, against the tides of industry and devastation by hyper-creation or entropy, either being maladaptive to the future possibilities of humanity, in time’s unravelilng codex, its storage and categorization to be, a precocious and complex endeavor, every action, fit for the portal, the time paradox, the fact that we are the future’s past, insofar as our future has already happened to a further future, we the ongoing time of future’s past. Our every action is stored in some time capsule, be it the CIA or the FBI, hopefully not China.

S: Riiight, that’s kind of random Krish, but keep crushin’ it! Alright!!

*Both Characters Exit Stage Left*

K: Yea, you couldn’t tell, but I was actually really nervous during that take. 

S: Omgosh, why? You’re always on the ball with impeccable speech, and look at your posture.

K: Impeccable alignment, I know. And observe this stature. I just naturally have broad shoulders and bulging biceps. But even so, having to ad lib is really difficult, you know? I didn’t know what Overhead Narrator was going to ask me, or how you were going to respond… all I had to go off of was my guts, and my impromptu brain and vocal chords. Nothing comes to me that quickly either, you know? So the slower one is always ultimately setting the pace and being the Alpha of the narrative. That would make me responsible for holding up the show; because I’m the base/bass, depending upon the metphro, physical or auditory. 

S: Nothing is good that hasn’t been put into good thoughtful consideration, care, or feeling. In fact, what is such a thing even?

K: There are two separate preferences in way to lead, in this world. One is with the mind, and one is with the heart. Once in a while yes, of course, it is our binary (doubled hemispheric) nature for the parts of our selves to cooperate in unison so effortlessly, in ordinary pursuit, that we scarcely even notice the interaction occurring. The trouble with people when they become distrusting later in life, because htye’ve been taught and determined to be so (“don’t get your hopes up” “who would choose you” way of thinking, a self-deprecatory series of lies and illusions that are passed down through catholicized and god-fearing programming that make of the people willing (not witting) slaves, ready to be led by the nose to whatever their controllers command of them. This is a dark magic, that has been passed down from high vampires through the aeons. This is why I do not side with the vampires. I approve of boundaries and space, and believe that in love there should be the desire, attempt, or reckoning to set the other more free than they were before, within their minds, within the societal shackles of b*****e to which they’ve come accustomed and built up an intimacy defying defense of addictive mood swings, cognitive dissonance, and escapist, dissociative behaviors disguised under the premise of partying.  Nothing wrong with teh art of being social and experiencing communitas, but when the constituent parties come together to hide under a veil of separatism, using gateway getaway escapist drugs, that majorly defeats the purpose and disallows one on one connection, group facilitated ceremony, or any productive enterprise of any kind even within the mindframe of a team. 

I’m only getting better and better now, because I recognize how to allow myself to surrender to myself, to experience the ordinary levels of nirvana, to water my own grass instead of hypotheisiing through the mystique of allure and magnetism alone (which can, in this modern world, be fabricated) which can be siphoned from other prayers (pray-ers) and other galaxies. One’s receptivity to the stars helps unravel the waking nature of ordinary existence. 

Passion channeled into reason… (vice versa in top-down cultures)... the synchrony of the parts, the corresponding in syncness of the movements, motions, flows, time signature, a congruence, a coming-together of the elements that should. A synchronicity. Timeless. Unexpected. Felt. Commemorated. Respected. Undeniable. A feeling. A tectonic shift. Elemental flux. Timeless awareness - ancient particles reinvigorating in shameless re-unification from exile. Shanti. Happiness. Wisdom.

That’s why the Tao have a philosophy called Choiceless Awareness. It doesn’t mean that we collapse our centers into illusory egolessness, or disregard our free will in the process of choosing. The choice of preparation and process can be a practical martial art also, such as setting up a technological array or preparing the environment with herbs and enrichments in order to increase the shantih of the space in a masterful way, whatever it takes to make everything brighter and more surrealist, neon or classical, or otherwise to prepare for what occurs. Choiceless Awareness was coined by Jiddu Krishnamurti in the mid 20th century, but it's been around longer than that in the Zen Buddhist traditions amongst monks and other famous spiritualists of the trade. It connotes the water-based approach to life - a way of simply heeding the signals of the universe and aligning our inner selves to the best choices in the moment, choosing therefore, the path of least resistance which oftentimes leads us to what we most want. 

***