How Consciousness Determines the Various Levels of Experienced Perception
While we’re alive, (during the framework of our allotted time here on Earth) would there ever, be some things we simply should not engage in? And, IF so, what would they be and who would decide whether or not we would venture into that doorway marked, “enter at thy own risk”, anyway? What would be the selected source, from which the exact pivotal element, decided and delegated the decisive center point generating its choices? In other words, what is it; we base our materialized decisions upon? Whose voices are we listening to? And, when, where, why and how do we establish and maintain the parameters from which we govern and direct our lives?
No doubt, there is a definitive source that produces the effects we see. But, have we ever thoroughly considered and introspectively pondered, what it is, that lives behind the scenes which prompt us to act in a certain way? Some may immediately reply, “The unconscious”; and, on some level this remains correct. But, what I am suggesting is the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain of the unconscious. Most people would agree that our experiences are filtered through the lens of our memorized associations and ingrained attachments. Some may contend, that we are not really cognitive of the present experiences due to the idealized habitual programs we have running in our heads at all times.
So far; so good. But…then, there is that tiny little compartmentalization and interpretation and projection impediment. At any given moment, we are affected by the recall and recognition factor which distorts and defragments the content of any newly acquired material coming in. In other words, inside our brain, the apparatus, whose job it is to ‘spot-on, allow entrance, process, and delete’ has been on automatic pilot for so long, due to the entrenched grooves of familiarity that we so tenaciously cling to, in revered hopes, never to forget, who we have spent a lifetime building up, reinforcing and insisting we are, that the likelihood of our experiencing a raw unadulterated moment is almost virtually nil.
We run in circles like caged little gerbils on the wheel of non-distinction. Round and round they go for nobody’s pleasure but the observer. Is the furry little rat aware of his constant monotonous spin? I don’t think so. Are we? I don’t think so. Unlike the tiny rats, however, we are aware of some unrelenting nuisance in our spirit which alerts us to something amiss. We don’t have a clue what it is, exactly, but the gnawing sensation of disheveling unrest never ceases. We want to make it right but unless we know where it is coming from and who is causing it, what can we do?
What we usually do is to continue on the same familiar road of self-motivated complacency, with just enough interruption to convince us, that what we are seeing with our eyes is real, ‘pretty much’ fixed, and out of our human domain to cause it to be any different. The bottom line we like entertaining ourselves and acting like we believe it.
True, but only up to a certain point: the point of centralized de-assing! When and IF the mind-altering occasion ever arises when we begin to suspect, there’s more under the sheets than the two bodies who seemingly occupy the bed, then and only then, will our experiences transcend the riotous veil of deception which so easily besets us. In other words, we are NOT living the life we think we are living. And, we are most assuredly not seeing what we think we’re seeing. Our minds are so adapted to the familiarity of conditions, people and episodes, that to call a tree a tree, categorizes all species of trees into a indistinct classification, removing the remotest possibility of the poetic experience of being able to see the energetic diverged ascending object for what it really displays.
We simply cannot subsist on a life of such undeveloped unappreciative layer of misleading nonsense. Our eyes need be awakened to the brilliancy of the flowing animated particles which establish, generate and maintain our ever evolving world. Nothing is static. Nothing is anything like we imagine it to be. It holds no equivalent the settled permanence of identification.
We, as human beings, are born anew each morning with a completely delegated, unraveling unexplored virginal set of feelings, artistic expression and curious needs. We do NOT appear on the scene as the person we recognize as coming from the day before, hour prior or even the second which has passed. As ludicrous as it may sound, we are strangers unto ourselves first and foremost, then, to the others (friends and family) who greet us.
The core essence of our cosmically gyrated, galactically manifested, incalculably congealed ‘sets of trillion’ differentiated cells do not change; but, we are so out of tune with the vibrating of that super-imposed celestial rhythm, the fantastic idea of relevance, alone, causes us to stumble and tremble. We are on the brink of something so spectacular that, in order for our finite minds, to receive the far-fetched notion, we must be willing to expose our stubborn, (refusal to budge from seemingly safe and secure ideas simply because we are so accustomed to them) reacting to the apparent lunacy to the winds of miraculous sweeping change.
Our present level of consciousness is being raised. Or, more specifically, the veil of ignorance is being slashed. We must stand naked before the remnants of our prefabricated ideals of familiar fancy to discover for ourselves what’s really going on down under. To think we can endure repeating the same scenarios and expect them to continue to work for us, in the same manner, in these shifting days of esoteric resonance, remains as sheer mental retardation. The apple train of mind’s liberation’s glory is loaded and bound for our front door. We will not bar him entrance.
Whatever we thought we’ve experienced is but a shadowed curtain which conceals the crux of inexpressible divinity’s tapping. Letting us know that we can and do change our life by altering our brain’s gathering point. It’s time to clean house, turn the tables over, as Jesus did without a moment’s worth of regret.
As long as we are fixated, (by looking straightway at a matter and calling it as we ‘think’ we perceive it to be), we will remain dead wrong. We must look quickly to the right or the left and blink several times to clear the passageway so a hint of lighted understanding (not one that we impose on it) enters the picture frame.
The long line of re-run memorable episodes (whether good or bad) of the past, have long since stopped. If we mistakenly recognize something vaguely familiar of a time past, quickly send the beckoning alluring memory’s remnant on its merry way. Give it no place of comfort and acceptance to pause and rest. Know that the treasured thoughts and idealized memories are bad and cause undo harm in the present moment of reference we try to squeeze them into. They simply don’t fit any longer.
Familiar Decadence seeks for cracks to invade and devour. The unsightly practice of such untidy hoarding habits engaged in, (simply to bathe in self-indulgent ego) constitute a mountainous region of other corrosive degenerative abysses which demand abhorrent flavors of the same soil to be cultivate needlessly. The lost time, it involves, to detach ourselves from something that is really of no genuine interest to us, anymore, does nothing but to serve as an unwanted deterrent. Those vainglorious ideas associated with the days gone by are far more deliriously harmful than the thing (memories associated with the person) itself.
Sometimes, we just have to say NO, I’m not interested; count me out, pass along, go on without me, I’ll take a rain check. Anything to excuse ourselves from the debilitating pity man-hold we’ll both fall headlong into.
Paula Andrea Pyle, M.A. Ed.