The Real World

Oh, the magic portal slowly dies.

What is the magic?

The magic is the portal to the Real World. The Real World is not the realm of the day-to-day cares of business, politics, and exoteric religion. The Real World is not the land of practicality and pretension, punctuality and penitence.

The Real World is just beyond that sacred state, beyond time and space, where the Person is met by experience unmediated. The mind is empty--there is no preconceived notions, no critical voice. There is only the phenomena and the observer. 

Oh holy space 

In verdant green,

For once I see,

Truly, as a child.

There is, perhaps, a closer place than the Real World. It is the world where the phenomena is unmasked and the 'Thing Itself' is known. The phenomena, after all, is only the thought of the thing. What a holy joy it would be to know what hides behind or within the Phenomena! No rational investigation can reveal it; no dissection of flowers or plants will demonstrate it.

We ourselves are the only phenomena that we may discover. We may experience ourselves, and by deep inquiry, discover the Thing Itself in ourselves. I suspect that by some Thoughtless meditation--some depthy, empty mindlessness--something will bubble up from deep inside us. This is intuition. Little 'hints' from the Real World, beyond phenomena, that speak to us about the great Universe of Love and Light just beyond our grasp. 

Nothing was in me

And slowly, a warm drop--

From that space, in my gut,

My mind conceived a new notion.

We (after all) are members of the Real World by birth. Whatever we are, we are real, and are therefore children of the Real World. But we are members of a World which is inaccessible to us, by reason. How seemingly unfair, but how obvious! How decrepit and lackluster is the false, Mirror World (misnomered by some as the real world). How totally unfitting and unloving it is! Even the love of the Mirror World seems empty and pernicious. The virtues of the Mirror World hardly compel. They are hardly virtues.

But perhaps you remember, when you were a small child, a different world altogether. You remember--even if you dwelled in cities and homes--a strange and foreign innocence. It is almost as if the world you lived in then was some alternate universe; that you were an ambassador of that sphere. Truly, when you were a child you lived not by bread alone but by intuition. You had few preconceived notions, and lived by the bubbling up of that fountain of life at the bottom of your psyche. Something fed you, nurtured you, and you approached all things as new and strange and full of life. You saw every object as infinitely interesting--certainly I did, approaching blocks and grass and trees not as objects but as friends, real things. You lived in the Real World.

Simple boys and girls--

Unbefitting names!

For those that walk forgotten paths,

And sing unknown refrains!

But now you are in alien, a stranger in a strange land. This is not your home. You are unsatisfied with it. Gurus teach you mindfulness, but your mind is too full. There is no room for more. You have taken in too much, much too much. What are all these rules of conduct that you now live by? Where did they come from? Some from you, undoubtedly. But many are residue from "expected action." Where is that ethereal innocence, where a great light guided you always? Is it truly gone?

No, not truly. Perhaps, sitting in the woods you approach a faery. It happens to some! Your mind unravels. Your serpent brain, for millennia evolving to only understand Facts and Logic, untwists momentarily. A ray of light from the Star approaches you. Who are you? Why are you here? Ah yes--Love. The great love in the center of all things. Faces of love appear to you. Everything matters, oh everything matters... The apple was ripe for the picking! Fault of Adam.. Father of Man, save us from our evolution!

With a single twist of stem,

The fruit departed the tree.

Now knowledge is mine, yes--

But nothing else can be.

Of course, you awake from the dream. I've had the dream. We all have. I knew her. The path to the Real World--that's what she was. But that portal is closing. Is there another?


God bless,

- bjs 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coolness as an Ideal

Hey, The aim of the Radical Aesthetic Movement (fronted by the likes of Lydia He et al) is to make personally certain to a vast number of individuals the claims and statements of a given movement. It is the brute-forcing of beauty, beauty as battering-ram, for some given end. It is a means of circumventing the constraints of formal logic (which is often unconvincing) with a tool that is nearly immediately convincing, intuitively. How does this manifest itself (often)? It's to be "cool." The aim is to be subtly, effortlessly, yet unambiguously unaffected by the World. Though no secular (knowingly) takes seriously the ancient Christian concept of the 'World' as the satanic realm, they do believe it implicitly. Someone, an angel among men, who lives innocently and carelessly as to the affairs of the world (to be above it, so to speak) is as a god to seculars. It is to be beyond space and time, place and moment--to be ascended. The gurus of our age constitute of anyon...
Read more

When Your Ex-Lover is Dead (to you)

Hello blog-watchers... I learned today that someone who I loved dearly long, long ago has decided to marry someone. Someone other than me. What does one do when this happened?  It wouldn't matter so much if I didn't care so much. But I do care. A lot. The last four years of my life have been (failed) attempts at forgetting her---throwing out or hiding things she gave me (painful) and practicing presence of mind so that I don't get lost in the past (difficult). It hasn't worked. I was young and my mind was open, thank God. For better or worse, my ideals were prismatically conformed to her. Every perfection was magnified in her, like in some scholastic argument for Deity. It wasn't so much that my ideals were synonymous with her. No---my ideals were separate, but they existed *through* her. They became lights seen through a stained glass window. She was a stained glass window. I spent the last four years seeing her in everything. Nights of weeping, days of dream like ...
Read more

A Proposition

26/09/2021 A Proposition Concerning the Local and Diocesan Use Of the Lorrha or Stowe Missal Of the Celtic Rite  Made to The Most Rev. David L. Ricken  Of the Diocese of Green Bay Your Excellency, In our present age of the Church, among the varying topography of liturgical and ritual practices, each with the pious intent of adherence to the infallible and orthodox decrees of the Magisterium, there has been felt an increasing intrigue among both the laity and clergy concerning the early ecclesiastical traditions which led to the genesis of both the Ordinary and Extraordinary forms of the Mass.  These traditions, exhibited by the patristic heritage found within both the East and West, were the product of the wisdom of those Church Fathers who, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit presiding within the Apostolic succession, brought forth liturgies and rituals which were found pleasing to God and wholly necessary for the spiritual wellbeing of the faithful. Such liturg...
Read more