Excerpts: The life of Life
Life itself is alive. There is a life to Life, and everyone and everything exists here within this greater Life. The ordinary mind conceives of itself, and its life, as a self-contained unit. The ordinary person considers that his existence stops with his skin and sees himself as being separate from all that surrounds him.
But there is no such separation. Everyone and everything that exists here is connected within the tensile strength of this greater Life. Just as one person is an organism composed of billions of individual cells—whose functions range from digestion to thinking—so may this life-of-Life be pictured as a greater organism composed of billions of cells who function as people. This is not to be taken as an anthropomorphic description of the reality of things. It is a verbal map, but the reality of it is not limited to the words. The reality of it can only be seen by one who has expanded his vision to encompass that which is invisible to Line-Level consciousness.
Ordinarily, “I” is a product of Life’s division by three. What one ordinarily perceives is “I” divided by three. Thus one sees only a third of any situation.
To See this invisible flexing, contracting and expanding Life, to feel one’s ordinary place held secure within this huge muscle, requires expanded vision. You must see “I” times three, so that your vision encompasses all of Life, rather than remaining a dividend of Life’s division.
What Are You Going to Say Next?
At the ordinary level, man sees nothing but confusion. Confusion and impending doom. But what I-level vision cannot see is the salient fact that everything continues to run in spite of what appears to be great confusion. Governments, corporations, one’s own life, all have continued apace through these millennia of man’s confusion. And your own voices—the babble inside your own head—run on without your interference or assistance.
Neuralize: What are you going to say next?
No one can answer the question. To Line-Level consciousness the question itself is foolish, if not incomprehensible. But no one can answer the question: no one knows what they’ll say next, because it isn’t them talking. Man sees confusion. Man thinks: “We must do something; we must bring order to the situation.” But a “man” can do nothing.
Order (at least on the ordinary level) has yet to appear. Yet everything continues to run. Life continues to grow. Man continues to evolve.
And the ordinary mind just can’t see this.
Each thought is a surge of energy given form at its impact with the Line of consciousness, where it becomes a word, a voice, an image. When this happens there is a momentary, imperceptible cessation of the flow. Consciousness is a series of electrical firings, though it is perceived as a solid stream not only because of the speed at which it operates, but also because the Yellow Circuit is literally the last to know. Each moment of consciousness is the culmination of a process that has already occurred. Thus each moment of consciousness, each thought, each utterance of “I,” is the past. Yellow Circuit consciousness is memory. So, below the Line, one lives, inevitably, in the juncture points of his possibilities.
And so it is that consciousness appears unaware of the past as a solid stream; but consciousness is instead a magnetic screen that is host to a seeming non-stop play of images, forming a continuous picture. But it isn’t the content—it isn’t the pictures or the thoughts themselves that are of importance. The energy continues to run automatically while you are alive—the words, the voices, the pictures are in constant motion across the screen of consciousness. There is continual, endless, repetitive babbling in one’s head, and it takes very little effort to become familiar with the entire repertoire.
What is of importance to one-of-This Thing, is that what he calls consciousness, what he calls “being aware” of something, occurs when he merges with the screen, when the voice, the picture now on-screen becomes “I”—think that; “That’s stupid”; “That’s beautiful.” But “That” is neither stupid nor beautiful. It is the pulsing end of a person’s future potential. And the potential ends every time he believes in, every time he merges with, the screen of consciousness.
For a serious man or woman, the only question is whether he will continually merge with the screen itself or whether he will instead attempt to Neuralize, to See the process. You cannot directly stop the play of images, the babbling of the voices, any more than you can stop the pulsing of your own life’s energy. But you must see that the images, the words themselves, are meaningless. You must See that all is, in fact, energy. It is not words, and it is only your own merging with the screen that endows a particular voice with meaning. When that happens, “you” are not “having” a “thought”; you are being the thought. “You” are not angry; you are the anger, you are the suffering, you are the hostility. All of you—at the moment of your merging—is consumed. You are back down below the Line, secure in your Grid-position, happily, (or unhappily), heedlessly, unknowingly transferring ordinary energies.
You must constantly attempt to not merge with the screen. You must hold, by simply remembering to do so, a part of you apart. You must focus your energy on the loose wire; through it, you can look down and watch your ordinary life run—without your interference, without your assistance—and without ever believing a word of it.
The voices, the words, the endless repetitive babbling that populates one’s head are meaningless. There are no good voices, and no bad voices; there aren’t righteous voices and evil ones. Of course, if one has to have voices, (and one does), it’s certainly preferable to have a preponderance of pleasant ones. But the voices arise not of one’s own volition. All is impersonal energy, taking form.
The only sin, for a man or woman of This Thing, is in merging with the same voices again and again. It is in giving credence to the same thoughts that one has always thought.’ To speak plainly, sin is repetition. It is the repetition of what you think and feel, including the induced suffering over what you do, say and feel.
That is the beginning and the end of sin.
Your Yellow (intellectual) Circuit can only think what it has already thought. And everything the Yellow Circuit has already thought is useless. It is worse than useless. It is sin: not religious sin; not sin in the conality mode. It is actual sin, where sin is whatever precludes vertical growth. Ordinary thought is nothing but repetition, but repetition is what keeps one firmly cemented in his common, ordinary Grid position. And for nearly everybody, this is absolutely necessary.
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