Awake: An Inner Autobiography by J - HTML preview

THE RESURRECTION

It was now time to re-enter the world.

To leave that forest, emerge from that cave, that desert, that labyrinth after I had finally found what was in front of me, what I possessed, what I was – all along.

After undoing myself from the social roles and games to the point of nothingness I began to engage again, to humbly work and shelter again, to write again. Actions similar – but transformed.

7.1

If they only knew.

As I do these mechanical actions necessary of the maintenance of this form, this embodiment, this biological organism I have found myself inside.

If they could only experience.

This field of pristine Consciousness that I have returned to, dissolved into, become.

This reality nestled inside reality – a reality with its own topology, its own laws, the same but different, as the blazing sun golden of the clearest sky is in relation to the ominous sun red from the smoke of the fires infernal underneath.

If they could only feel.

The perpetual circulation of this ecstasy, this peace, this love, this bliss.

7.2

I thought that was it.

From my years of study I expected the Breaking of the Chain of Thought – the death of the constant sequential stream of the False Mind – that liberation – to be the end point – the completion – the finality of Awakening.

But the next stage of esoteric development – the next unfolding – was a surprise to me –

something only touched upon in the literature of the esoteric – with almost no firsthand accounts

– and never described directly but hidden beneath veils of symbol, metaphor, myth and parable.

7.3

It hurts so much.

I can't believe it.

It hurts so fucking much.

-

When the fetters of thought were broken – that constant self-generation of tension and anxiety –

stopped.

-

It doesn't want to let go.

Like it has its own existence – its own life.

And it will do anything to protect itself.

Itself generating the anxieties of fear and desire.

An infernal feedback loop of suffering and compulsion.

These complexes of agony and pain stored within the bodymind.

-

They undid themselves one by one.

So many, it never seemed like it was going to end.

So deep inside.

Unwinding.

Undoing.

-

When wounded by the wounds that are inevitable in this form, this embodiment, this biological machine - the bodymind – which always is was and will be a singular entity despite the illusory divisions of the False Mind – in order to prevent further injury contracts, freezes, hardens itself.

But these defenses never undo when the threat has passed.

But remain behind as storehouses of the original hurt.

-

The agony unbearable.

As it finally cracks open.

Amazing how much pain there is.

How long I carried it around for.

How long I have tried to run away from it.

The insanity of trying run from something I carried around inside of me.

How that poisoned my life.

-

With no more thought to maintain that state of tension.

They had no choice but to undo.

One by one.

Felt like it was never going to end.

So much hurt inside.

-

Though every time.

That seemingly infinite hurt.

Those blackened sky torrents violent and raging.

Always transformed transmogrified into slow motion light infused drops from a crystalline leaf.

-

Then torrents would begin again.

This time of the most exquisite ecstasy.

The most beautiful pleasure.

The most infinite love.

-

Locked up like a prisoner due to the wound's contractions.

How many years was it restrained?

Now released.

Relief.

-

That body of thorns and nails.

That body of pain.

Slowly. Gradually. Finally.

-

Died.

-

Born again to its natural state.

All energies flowing freely.

Reacting spontaneously.

As I wander under these pinprick stars apparent - in reality dwarfing spheres of fire and light.

Trying to maintain the role as this process unfolds within me.

Overwhelming gratitude.

Thank you.

Thank you for this gift.

7.4

It took years for the complexes of contraction to undo – cracking ripping tearing – loosening opening undoing – every muscle from my toes to the inside of my skull – continually surprised as some new complex in me unknown to me would let go – amazed how I lived like that up to this point.

-

Though each release of a bodymind complex was followed by flows of biological emotional psychic energy the pleasure unutterable – there would also follow a tremendous explosion of energy on another level another plane – an expression so strong so moving I know others could feel it – though the experience lies so far outside current conceptions of Mind Self and Reality the response would be perplexed looks, timid utterances, silence.

7.5

There is another level or dimension of existence than the gross material level - in all its visible and non-visible manifestations - in all its known and still unknown forms – a subtle and invisible realm that is the stratum of all my mystical and esoteric experiences and openings.

On a separate level from the common yet infinitely wondrous worlds of ordinary and non-ordinary experience - yet somehow still intertwined with it – co-existing and co-evolving with it

– the means of its perception and expression lying seedlike in every being that is human.

-

With every undoing, breaking down of the complexes of tension and contraction of the psycho-physical bodymind there was a concurrent simultaneous growth spontaneous of a body on that subtle plane.

This is a body with its own organs, a body constituted out of some kind of miraculous energy, but not the energy of the gross physical world but an energy that is somehow dynamic, intelligent, alive.

-

Though I had experiences during the period of the search that were premonitions of this future body – as powerful and profound as they were – these awakenings were only temporary and preliminary openings and developments of a permanently flowered and expressed Body of Light.

7.6

On the bus on the way to work downtown at the terminal another thick book on the seat beside me – waiting looking out the window watching the procession of human beings and their near infinite variations and expressions – almost weeping at their will to endure and survive and love despite the sufferings and shadows of this reality asleep – when I feel something open up around my navel – at the location of that body but not of that body – shadows of feeling purified and cleansed by its tiny flowering - what the fuck is happening to me now? How can something so small saturate my body my cells my atoms with this complete and total overwhelming force of peace?

A peace that now never leaves.

That always walks with me along that path – the shimmering trees an instrument played by the wind - that song of the most beautiful and subtle silence.

7.7

So clear, so pure as to be almost non-existent.

When fully opened up this void in the middle of my chest.

Like some kind of door, some kind of gate, some kind of way to another world.

Of which somehow this form has become an interface.

Pouring.

Flowing.

Radiating.

Infinite. Endless. Never-ending.

So beautiful.

That gentle explosion.

That love.

-

The connection of this organ subtle to the one biological is in name only – for one moves blood through this body of flesh and the other moves gorgeous energy through this Body of Light and out into the universe – two organs separate yet intertwined – that otherworldly divine love not only softening the breast of this form but of those in the presence of its field as well.

-

Unlike the love of the body that needs an object this love simply is.

This gift, this miracle, this grace.

That has allowed me simply.

To be able to say.

I love you.

7.8

This ecstasy.

Pouring from the top of my head – this spring struck of waters ecstatic – drunk on this unearthly wine that never runs out, never runs dry – simply lying down I fall into the deepest of absorptions.

It feels so good.

Indescribable.

It is almost too much.

-

How many billions of years did I search for this toil for this fight for this lie for this steal for this plot for this scheme for this dream for this?

How many drops of sweat rivers of tears oceans of blood did I generate to at best momentarily rest in the shadow of a shadow?

Trying to find you in the objects of the greedy the entertainments of the simple the intoxications of the deluded the lusts of the depraved and the actions of the cruel?

So much life was wasted.

For I had the true and real pinnacle and summation of existence within me all along.

-

But as beautiful as this infinite never-ending bliss is – it is ultimately not it – it is just the reward

– the seal.

The crown – the subtle organ located at the top of one’s head – when opened flowered expressed allows one’s form to perceive and experience reality as it actually is -

as Consciousness -

Pure and pristine – unborn and deathless – infinite in its complex simplicity – the sacred mystery.