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Re: The Mystical REUNION Event

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  • devindersingh
    ... created consciousness before transmigration into the experience of time, freedom, and activity. The ancient Indian Rishis called it vignayn. This place has
    Message 1 of 4 , Feb 14, 2013
      > Dick: It could be described as the cosmological waiting room of
      consciousness before transmigration into the experience of time,
      freedom, and
      The ancient Indian Rishis called it vignayn. This place has been seen
      and documented. It is the golden lid of the Upanishads, that separates
      "that" from "this". Sri Aurobindo calls it the supermind. This was
      commented on your
      e/5526In Indian philosophy, the Absolute is conceived of as being
      Sat-Chit-Ananda, of the nature of pure Being, Consciousness, and Bliss.
      On the basis of this, Sri Aurobindo speaks of the "Upper Hemisphere" or
      "Supreme [Absolute-Divine] Nature" which constitutes infinite and
      unitary existence, and which he divides into the planes of Pure Being
      (Sat), Consciousness-Force (Chit-Tapas
      <http://www.kheper.net/topics/Aurobindo/Chit-Tapas.html> ), Bliss
      (Ananda), and Truth-Consciousness ("Supermind
      <http://www.kheper.net/topics/Aurobindo/Supermind.htm> "). The latter
      constitutes a somewhat more manifest level then Sachchidananda
      (Being-Consciousness-Bliss), a sort of "logos" or "Divine Mind" between
      the true Unmanifest and the Creation. But all these realities are
      eternally pre-existent, and constituting the modes or qualities of the
      Absolute. See also:
      --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Dick." wrote:
      > 414 Rockledge Road, New Bern, NC 28562. USA
      > Exceptional Human Experience: Volume 13, Number 2. December 1995
      > Abstracts of Articles in Part One.
      > 06923. Richardson, Dick. The Divine Reality: Transcendent and
      > Exceptional Human Experience, 1995 (DEC). 13(2), 10-27.
      > This piece consists of five chapters excerpted from a book
      manuscript. Some briefer excerpts have been published in various
      periodicals, sometimes summarized. The book consists of experiential
      accounts; the author's interpretation of the experiences, and poetry
      based on his experiences. The primary experiences are presented here
      lightly edited and 'Americanized'. Described are the richest mystical
      encounter experiences I have ever read. They span a time period from
      1963-1983. The initial experience happened when Richardson was age 24
      and had sat down one evening to listen to some music and read the paper.
      The first 4 of 5 parts describes in great detail (etched in memory) the
      experiences he had that evening.
      > The first 'Purgation', was "in some respects like being kidnapped by
      divine...perfection". The outer world was stripped away. In the second
      'Isolation in Limbo', with his mind free in space, he was stranded in
      "nothing" and then fell into a "light hole". In the third, "Beyond the
      White: Circumincession of the Trinity of Being", one event was
      experienced from two reference points simultaneously and seemed to be a
      trinity. It ended when he and everything else ended... "I and the
      universe were no more. It was the end of time". There follows
      "Paradise: The Virgin Womb of Eternity, and a Unification in
      Resurrection". Here, "after a non duration of time there was a
      re-emergence or resurrection of my being, an annihilation of
      annihilation as such, but the like of which could never be dreamed or
      imagined". In this, the longest section, his description is awesome.
      > The final section, 'The Dark Side, (1963-1983): Dichotomy and
      Synthesis', describes the years between this first experience and a
      subsequent one 20 years later. In between he felt much ambivalence and
      confusion as he tried to incorporate what he had experienced while back
      in the everyday world, which was basically good in itself. He finally
      gave up the attempt and tried to forget what he had seen and known. "It
      was too good for me and it was too good for reality itself". He could
      not figure out the point of it all, try as he may. After a month or so
      he had a nightmare, waking in panic, sweat and even blood. He began to
      have psychic experiences in response to questions that concerned him.
      By age 40 all experiences had ceased. Then, one spring morning while
      picnicking with his wife and dog, he had an experience which, unlike the
      others, he could not possibly describe. The transcendent self he had
      known at age 24 became united with his "earthly self". The two
      experiences came together: "In transcendence the outer I had gone to IT;
      but here and now, on earth, IT, the implicate inner reality... had come
      to me".
      > This work HAS to be read ! R.A.W
      > EDITOR: Rhea A. White
      > Dick Richardson
      > It was approximately 6.45 p.m. when a friend called me on the
      telephone to inquire if I would like to go over to his place for a few
      games of chess. I explained to him that I was baby sitting as my wife
      had just gone out for the evening with friends and would not be back
      until quite late. I was just on the verge of inviting him over to my
      place when, without thinking, I said that I would give it a miss tonight
      and simply have a bath and an early night. I did not know why I had
      said that, for I do not usually talk without thinking what I am going to
      say. Also, I did quite fancy the idea of a few games of chess and
      rarely ever turned down the opportunity. Nevertheless, having said it,
      I let it ride.
      > The two youngsters were tucked up for the night and the paraphernalia
      of childhood joy was tidied up as I sat down at about 7 p.m. I had just
      placed a couple of large logs on the fire and put a record on the
      machine at random with the intent of a few minutes of peace and quiet
      before going up for a bath. If I had known in advance what was going to
      transpire over the course of the next three hours I would have employed
      a baby sitter and a witness to my own physical condition for the
      duration of that period of time.
      > Thus it was that at approximately 7 p.m. on a late winter/early
      spring evening I, a mere ignoramus of twenty-four years of age, sat down
      for a few minutes to read the paper and listen to a record prior to
      having a bath and an early night.
      > Just as I sat down in the chair in front of the fire our old cat
      jumped up on my lap. It took me by surprise for I had not seen it
      coming, and thus the thought of leaning over for the newspaper went
      right out of my mind. I made a fuss of the cat as it rolled over into
      the well of my lap with its legs pointing skyward. As I stroked its
      belly it gave out a purr that was almost as loud as a car engine revving
      and fit to rock the chair we were sitting in. I smiled and wondered how
      they did it, and why. I continued to make a fuss of the cat without any
      further thought of reading the paper. In so doing I suddenly became
      aware of the record I had put on simply for background music.
      > It turned out to be the last part of the Enigma Variations which was
      to be followed later by the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis by
      Vaughan Williams (how ironic are those two titles; fantasia and enigma
      indeed). At that time neither of those pieces were favorites of mine; it
      just happened to be the record I pulled out.
      > The music began to sound like nothing I had ever heard before or
      since. It was as though the music were trying to make me aware of IT.
      It permeated my consciousness in ways that words cannot describe. I had
      a fleeting thought, one of those unsolicited 'pop in' thoughts, which
      said, "sod the paper, listen to the music old son"; and I thought,
      "Yeah... this is good"! In today's language I suppose we would say that
      the music was reaching parts that no other largo could get to. I had
      always loved music, music of all kinds, for it all had its time, place,
      and mood; but this was more than mere music, more than mere sound. I
      relaxed back into the rocking chair with the cat still purring away like
      a traction engine on my lap, although the sound was becoming drowned
      into the distance by the beauty of the music, when suddenly, something
      very strange occurred; and the beginning of I knew not what.
      > Instead of relaxing, it was as though my concentration was becoming
      focused, so sharp; like a narrow beam of pointed conscious awareness
      focusing and concentrating like I had never done before, even in the
      midst of chess problems during a good game, and that alone is
      concentration enough, but this was more so. The music had reached a
      degree of profound beauty I had never known or thought could have
      existed. In so attaining I somehow relaxed into it, a kind of kind of
      letting go of objective observation. I gave a kind of unusual sigh and
      an outward exhalation of breath like a long AHH; and just as I did so
      everything vanished, instantaneously, just like creation being switched
      off by the throw of a switch.
      > There was no room, no cat, no sound of the fire burning or the clock
      ticking; no cat purring, no chair, no body, no weight, no mass, no heat
      or cold, no gravity, no up or down or this way or that way; there was
      just total blackness and the sound of the music, which was passing
      through my consciousness in waves. This is not a poetic description of
      my listening to the music; it is literal. At the very instant of
      'going' it was as though my ears had been turned inside out; for at one
      instant the music was objective, on the outside, and the next instant it
      was taking place all around, for there was no inside or outside as such.
      Nevertheless, it was as though the music was passing through the point
      (which I was) like waves on a pond, and each wave was of greater
      emotional charge than the one before it. It was as though each wave was
      preparing me for the next wave, and building up into... into I did not
      know what. In some respects it was like being kidnapped by divine
      music, perfection; the only thing that existed in creation was the music
      and myself. It was as though the 'AHH' was still going on but in the
      vastness of the space of the mind alone. It became a reality in which
      there was no dualistic reference between music, and myself but as though
      there was only 'I am the music' in a dance, a swoon of excitement, awe,
      and wonder.
      > After an immeasurable duration of time that piece of music ended, and
      there was a stillness and quiet that cannot be described. I did not
      question (at that point) that I had no body or existence other than
      awareness of being. Neither would I have had the time to think of such
      things, for the next piece of music began. To say that the next piece of
      music began is the understatement of all time. It did not begin, it
      flowed. It flowed out of nothingness, like... like I know not what.
      > Within a few seconds of the music emanating into my consciousness
      there came the most frightening experience I have ever known in my life,
      before or since. The passion and beauty of the sounds were such that my
      mind went... bang! I blew up, fell apart, exploded, or so it seemed.
      As I did so I could see, I had vision, I was no longer in total
      blackness listening to the music for I could see myself exploding and
      expanding. It seemed to be like the big bang itself.
      > I could still hear the music, and it was just as well that I could
      for my mind clung to the sound to try and quell the fear and panic which
      was taking place. I could see what can only be described as streaked
      out dots of light which I was expanding into and flying through like a
      supernova. It was like I did not even have time to be frightened, even
      though I was. I was somehow trying to turn the eyes, which I had, away
      from the rushing lights and the vision of this expansion and concentrate
      upon the music. But those eyes (heaven only knows with what one could
      see - but see one could) were eyes that we cannot open or close by our
      own volition; one could not switch the vision or the experience off.
      > Just as I thought I was going to expand into infinity and fade away
      into nothingness the expansion stopped. My mind gradually stopped
      expanding and I metaphorically gave a sigh of relief; but there was no
      breath or lungs with which to do it. At that point, it was as if I were
      in a kind of unbounded dome of blackness, and I consisted of nothing
      except a point of consciousness with no boundary or duration, no form;
      just consciousness. I could see what appeared to be tiny points of
      light coming into and out of existence all over the space within which I
      existed. It was much like the vision one would get with one's eyes
      nearly closed while seeing sunlight spots dancing on the surface of a
      fast-flowing river. It was like creation 'stuff' coming and going all
      the time. Throughout all this I could still hear the music. Then came
      the next shock to my system, if a system I had.
      > The dots of light that seemed to be coming into and out of existence
      as far as one could see suddenly turned into the music, which I could
      hear, and I could not only hear the music but now also see it. There
      are no words to describe such music made of light. It is a vision
      unlike other vision. It cannot be recreated by imagination within the
      mind from hindsight; it can only be seen and known at the time of the
      event. I saw the music flowing toward me. It was in colors that we
      know and some that we do not know. The essential quality of the light
      was equal to that of the sound of the music. The light itself and the
      colors were not different things, as we tend to know colored light by
      reflections or as sources of light emanating from a certain point. The
      music was the light; the color was the light. It did not flow from
      anything except uncreated into created.
      > The fear that I had experienced throughout the expansion or whatever
      it was had now gone and there was nothing but I and the music, which I
      was now within: I became the music; there was not an 'I' and an 'it.'
      As this event continued I became aware that I 'knew' the music. That is
      to say, I knew it backwards, forwards, inside out, one note at a time or
      all at once; and I could see it any way I wanted to see it. I could
      become the melody, which I did; I could become the harmony, which I did.
      I could be one note or the whole piece of the music. Reality is
      stranger than fiction; and a damn sight better.
      > Whilst this divine dance of music in unison was going on I became
      aware that I was of two natures somehow enshrined in one. There came a
      point whilst I was swimming in this light and music when I became aware
      that I was looking at myself objectively, and it did not seem strange at
      the time.
      > 'Myself' did not consist of a body but only of light, but I knew it
      was me, and I thought, "The little one is having the time of his life"
      (which indeed he was), but the other me, or the me of the personality,
      did not know this was going on; only the other bit knew that. Likewise,
      all these things were not being thought about as we do out here in the
      world of temporal forms, but somehow they were just known, and seen, and
      felt, and enjoyed.
      > I became aware at that point that there were two aspects of myself:
      one which I refer to as the person and one which I refer to as the
      personality. The latter is an extension and emanation of the former and
      thus a perceived duality, albeit a oneness in the structure of an
      interdimensional vortex of self-existence. I cannot refer to two 'I's,'
      thus I will use the terms person and personality for simplicity. It is
      not so much a case of two aspects of consciousness but more the case of
      what part of the vortex of emanation the consciousness is existing
      within at that instant. One cannot observe from both points of
      reference at the same instant, however; it is either one or the other.
      And it even gets far more complex. But let us proceed in the order of
      the unfolding events.
      > At this point, and even though one was aware of what was going on at
      the time, one was not 'bothered about it' so to speak, for I was only
      really concerned about the love of the reality itself, the music, the
      sound, the vision, the event itself, for it was indeed a divine dance of
      the spheres. It was passion and reality unimaginable; it was creation
      par excellence, by magic. The shift from one point of consciousness to
      the other is not an act of willful intent on my (the personality's)
      part; it simply occurred as far as I was aware. How long this music and
      light experience lasted is impossible to say, for although it was a
      temporal process it was a kind of temporality other than is known in
      'normal' or everyday awareness in temporal forms. Likewise, the visions
      and objects of vision were not thought of as extant things existing in
      their own right, such as a tree or a mountain, for it was known and
      understood to be being created at the time and only for its duration and
      > There came a point, however, when things changed. I suddenly had an
      entirely different vision. It was just at the point when I knew the
      music was going away, ending. My perspective of vision was such that I
      could see a being, a young boy of about twelve years of age, if
      appearances were anything to go by. He was illuminated in a brilliance
      of light and color, as the music had been, and existed in otherwise
      total darkness, but that darkness up around him was lighted like an
      aura. He was sitting on his bum (with nothing underneath him) with one
      arm wrapped around his knees, which were folded up to his chin, and
      waving good-bye to the music with the other hand. It was not a vision
      of any boy or person I had ever seen or known, but I knew that I had to
      take the vision as myself, yet not the self of the personality which I
      knew to be me. Indeed, it was the old me who was doing the observing
      and learning. Such archetypal visions are a kind of learning without
      any words. They are not reasoned or rationalized, and yet they are
      understood implicitly and without thinking about them. The experience
      is the thing itself and the knowledge and understanding is implicit and
      axiomatic. Thus, it is a dialogue without dialogue, and synetic in its
      > I could see the boy waving good-bye to the music, and I could see the
      music fading away into a distance and into nothingness, being uncreated
      just as easily as it had been created. I also implicitly knew what was
      going on inside him and how he felt. He did not want anything; he did
      not fear the music leaving him, for he loved it, and that was
      sufficient. I cannot find the words to describe the passion and
      feelings that child knew and felt; but he was perfect; and an act which
      I knew that I could not follow. As the music went further away the sound
      of it also diminished. It eventually faded away into nothingness, and
      the boy was alone in his own radiance in otherwise total blackness and
      nothingness. Then the vision disappeared, and there was nothing. I was
      alone with my boring old self, and once again able to think and
      rationalize in the usual manner and seemingly in the usual time span of
      thinking. Yet I was alone in a darkness in which I had no form other
      than conscious awareness.
      > I realized that any perception or illusion of 'otherness,' or another
      part of myself, was gone and I was alone with my normal personality of
      the outside world. Yet the world was gone; everything was gone except
      my self-consciousness and its memories. What on earth (or elsewhere),
      is going on; and why? From hindsight one would assume that in such a
      situation one would be terrified, for it was like being buried alive (a
      good analogy). However, the thought of the music, which had preceded
      this situation, must have taken the fear away, even though I felt a
      feeling of great apprehension and a degree of worry. Is one going to be
      stranded here for all time maybe? Is this death? Or am I still sitting
      in the chair with my mind having slipped out of joint somehow?
      > Have I gone insane? The thoughts that pass through one's mind are at
      times uncontrollable, and in this situation one does not know what to
      think. Surely if I just sit quiet (as if I could do anything other) and
      hang about something will happen; something must happen; I can't just
      hang about here forever; wherever 'here' is. Perhaps someone will come
      into the room soon and realize that my mind has got stuck inside and
      cart me off to a place to get it out again. It was however, the first
      chance I had to think about what the hell was going on; one minute I am
      sitting in the chair minding my own business and the next minute... zap,
      and the world has disappeared, or I from it - which is it? I knew for
      sure that I wanted out from whatever I was in but there was nothing I
      could do about it at all; for I had no control of anything. Just at
      that point, however, and before I had the chance to get really fed up,
      something did happen. I was just thinking how nice it would be to go
      into the kitchen and get a beer or a cup of coffee when something came.
      I could not see what it was for it was still total darkness, but I could
      somehow feel the presence of something I knew not what... Then I heard
      a voice!
      > To say that one heard a voice is not true in the sense that one
      normally hears a voice in objective terms across a distance, but it was
      indeed very much like it and also sounded within my mind or
      consciousness somehow. It was as though the point of origin was somehow
      objective, yet from a location from deeper down within myself somehow:
      thus, objective 'inwards,' not 'outwards,' from 'below' as opposed to
      'around' me. Something said, or gave me the understanding by way of
      perceiving a voice; "Do you want to go on?" I cannot describe how I felt
      about that. Nothing would actually shock me (I think) after what had
      transpired since the world had disappeared. Yet this 'request' was
      experienced as totally objective; it was not me that was asking the
      question; it was something else.
      > I was too stunned to even think about the meaning of the question yet
      alone where it came from; for something, even an odd sounding voice, was
      better than nothing at all, if indeed it was a voice. Without thinking
      I inwardly yelled out (for the lack of putting it into other words, and
      more in panic); "Go on what"?
      > "Go on further," came the reply or understanding.
      > I was amazed at the logic and reasoning, but I wanted nothing else
      other than normality to be re-established. I was just about to reply
      (for if you can't beat it join it), "No thanks; I have had a wonderful
      time, thank you very much, but I think it's about time that I was
      getting back to normality right now, if it's all the same to you"! (You
      might as well go out laughing, I thought).
      > As I was about to respond, however, I was suddenly washed, bathed,
      drowned in a passion, a love, a swoon of ecstasy; to which I responded
      in a way which was a kind of choice which was no choice - an offer one
      cannot refuse. (And not the kind of bath I had intended.) I replied to
      whatever, or wherever, the question emanated from... "OK, let's do it,
      let's go on further"! I did not even know what the question meant let
      alone from whence it came.
      > The next thing I was aware of was that the profound overwhelming
      emotion had gone and I was then alone again; but something was
      different... stone me, my mind is BENT... out of shape, distorting! I
      was now experiencing not 'nothing' but decidedly being inside of
      something - inside my own mind, which was being squeezed out of shape.
      Why is my mind not round? (The things one thinks at such a time.) It
      was as if I could see the edges of my own mind in a fuzzy darkness, with
      my consciousness being like a point at its center. Also, my mind was
      being squeezed out of shape, or so it seemed. It was narrower at one
      point than at the other; a bit like a pear. I underwent an experience
      of being squeezed, and I did not like it one bit. I became very
      anxious; or near on panic is more like it. I had a distinct urge to try
      to punch a hole in my collapsing mind in order to get out, escape,
      before being squashed along with it.
      > I yelled out: "Oy, there's some sod out there pulling my mind around
      and I cannot stop it." I felt real panic coming on fast. The
      restricting became worse. "If you don't pack it in I am going to be
      squashed inside it... sod off"! I was about to hurl other choice
      obscenities when all of a sudden I heard the voice again.... "Relax,
      take it smoothly"!
      > I was just about to reply 'bugger off' when I suddenly started
      moving. "Relax, he says... stone me... I'm moving... the whole bloody
      shebang is sliding away and with me inside it"! "Good grief almighty
      what the hell is happening"!? "Relax, everything is as it should be,
      keep calm and relax"! "Relax, he says, who's driving this thing
      anyway... how do I know its passed its bloody driving test? "And where
      is it going anyway... go on tell me that"? "Keep quiet, shut up and
      relax"! With that command, or suggestion, I was stunned to the core.
      "Oh yes, relax... OK, I'll relax"! Bloody liar I thought to myself, who
      the hell could relax in a situation like this... this is too ridiculous
      for words or thought... let alone happening! The moving began to
      judder; we were up against something of a resistance (me I guess)...
      "Relax"! "I am relaxing"! (Why can't I be unconscious or dead or
      something)! I tried hard to think on good things as one does in the
      dentist's chair while under diabolical pain; although there was no pain
      here, only fear.
      > "Make out nothing's happening," I thought to myself. The juddering
      felt like whatever was clogging the works was fighting a losing battle
      in some inevitable way. There was a huge tug, then a release. I zoomed
      off like a bullet from a gun; into, or out of, what I knew not.
      > I did not know it at that time, of course, but the events thus far
      were but the beginning of the act of transcendence, the stripping away
      (purgation) of the outer world. There then followed the next stage of
      purgation; the isolation, Limbo. In the dimension of assessment and the
      discrimination of the parts there will be two in that field; one will be
      taken and one will remain. But I knew nothing of these things at that
      young age. So let us continue with the unfolding events themselves as
      they were known and thought about at that time.
      > *
      > It was as though I had been ejected from a container of some kind and
      at high velocity: but I was now in a form of unseen space, a space which
      was so dark that it was almost a void of creation, but I was aware of a
      space of some kind in which I existed, and it was all about me. There
      was a long stunned silence of thought in an instantaneous recognition of
      the obvious. "Bugger me, why did I not realize it ages ago... I am
      dead... you're kicking the bucket old son"! Not expecting any answer I
      shouted out, "I am dead ain't I"!
      > A 'voice' or communication answered, much to my amazement. "Well, if
      you were dead then you would not know it would you; just think lad, how
      could you think that you were dead if you were dead"? This was in some
      ways the most relaxing comment that had come to me since the music
      episode had ended, and thus in some way it relieved the panic that
      otherwise would have ensued. I inwardly answered, "That is indeed hard
      to argue with, but from what I have seen thus far nothing would surprise
      me"! There was no answer to that, but I distinctly felt the knowledge
      of something smiling. The sensation was now of existing in a literal
      space of some kind and yet very different to the confines of what I had
      taken to be my own collapsing mind and the things which had transpired
      within it: for now my mind was definitely perceived to be in a space,
      and free.
      > I suddenly felt totally alone again, or so it was experienced to be.
      For whatever it was, the other degree of myself or otherness which
      seemed to have asked the questions was now gone again. I was alone. I
      guess I must have been fooling myself, for it is obvious that I am dead,
      or at least on the way to it, for what the hell would I be doing here
      otherwise? For a moment I wondered whether I was dreaming; perhaps I
      fell asleep in the chair and this is all a dream and I will wake up in a
      few moments. But I knew that it was no dream for it was as real as
      life, too real, albeit so different. I could still see; for that I
      knew, but there was nothing to see; there was no creation other than
      myself, my mind in nothing, Limbo.
      > It was indeed in a state of isolation, of existing in nothing
      created. It was not as though one were simply in a dark place as such,
      for it was experienced that there was no 'place' to be dark. It was
      like being stranded, left alone in nothing; separated or beyond any form
      of creation; abandoned. It was as if all creation had been switched off
      and had forgotten to take me with it. There was not even a finger to
      wobble or anything to smell or touch. I thought how much I would have
      loved to have seen a raindrop or felt the wind in my face. And how I
      perhaps took such things for granted. "Well, just when you're enjoying
      yourself, eh," I thought. One could think of this in terms of either a
      Limbo experience or 'Mind Alone,' for the effect and the experience are
      the same thing. Naturally I began to feel apprehensive, for one could
      not do anything. One could not shake oneself out of it, for there was
      nothing to shake. I began pondering on life, for I had accepted that
      this was the end of it, or the journey to the end of it. Strangely
      enough I did not seem as bothered about it as I thought I should have
      been, and even though I had been cut short in my prime, and at a time
      when I was enjoying life to the full. I guess I am going to fade out
      any minute now and there is not much I can do about that now, so why
      worry about it! But if ever anybody or anything asks me if I want to
      'go on' again then I shall certainly ascertain what they mean before
      committing myself.
      > After awhile something switched on what I instantly thought was a
      star, a tiny little pinprick of light way off in the distance. I
      suddenly wondered why I thought that this star was objective to me, for
      nothing else I had seen could really have been said to be 'objective' in
      the literal sense; but this star felt to be absolutely objective. I was
      over here and that thing was over there, and thus real in objective
      terms. I then questioned where all the other stars had gone, but
      realized, or perhaps better to say, suddenly remembered, that this was
      not 'outer space,' but an unknown inner or sub-space somewhere; and
      heaven only knows where. But if this was supposed to be heaven or
      afterlife then it was no great shakes; and give me Exmoor any day. Well,
      star or not it is damned obvious that I am not going to find my own way
      home from this place. And even if one knew the way back how the hell
      would one move in that direction? I give up!
      > I began to wonder if my existence was now solely due to my thinking
      process perhaps. That is to say, I had no body or substance observable.
      Therefore, perhaps if I stop thinking I would cease to exist. "That's
      novel," I thought, a bit like Hobson's choice. By the same token,
      however, if I were to keep thinking then perhaps I could hang about here
      forever. But my thoughts do not thrill me to that extent so I did not
      fancy that idea. So perhaps if I stop thinking then I will cease to
      exist. So I stopped thinking. Nothing happened. I was still there; in
      nothing and nowhere. Well, that's it then, so much for that experiment!
      It occurred to me that perhaps the Christians might be right after all
      and that this distant light was perhaps Dante's Inferno; Wow! Happy
      days! I didn't think that I had been that bad, however, and not that I
      believed such stuff anyway; but there you go, eh! Movement seemed to
      slowly begin. Either toward the tiny little light or else it was itself
      moving toward me; but no, I felt actual movement somehow.
      > Although I was not really thinking about it I somehow began to
      question, or at least began to think, about my past life. If this light
      which is coming toward me (or me it) is death, then I really do have
      little time to think about life. What about it? Well, it was OK I
      guess, I seemed to enjoy most of it despite the pains and the poverty,
      the war and frustration. What did I amount to? Sod all really! Was it
      fun? Fun!? I did not know it was meant to be fun; did I ask myself
      that question? What the devil is going on! Was it fun? Well, some of
      it was, but not all of it, I thought to myself. Would you do it again?
      Not the same one over again I don't think, a different one maybe.
      Different in what way? Well, a little less frustration and pain, a
      little more passion and shared enjoyment. A more meaningful existence
      somehow maybe. What is enjoyment? Well, you know, enjoyment! No, you
      tell me what enjoyment is. Well, enjoyment is to love what you are
      doing, to do what you love doing, and to share that thing and that love
      with another person, I guess. It is also the joy of taking part, the
      act of being a part of instigating and spreading that enjoyment of
      being; a harmony of body and mind in the excitement of experience with
      others, and also at times on one's own with nature. That, I guess, is
      what enjoyment is for me anyway. At that point, I felt that I would
      love to see a tree or a green field; a blade of grass or a drop of rain;
      or at least to feel a breeze of fresh air. For they were all now lost
      and gone. It occurred to me that I had not done any breathing for a
      long time; and nothing to breath with. Would I want to go on living now
      given the choice? Now that I have come this far I am not sure. It
      would have to have some meaning to it, some purpose other than mere
      pleasurable moments and sad moments which amount to nothing really. It
      would have to have something which is seen, known, to have some meaning
      to the suffering and pain which is the greater portion of life on earth
      it would seem. It would have to be worth the effort of the struggle
      > Would I really want to live again now? I am not sure now; but what I
      think does not really matter now anyway; so I do not want to think any
      more; sod the lot of it. However, life was certainly better than being
      here, and that's for sure... and wherever 'here' is... the dungeons of
      my mind it seems! But what now then? In life I had the option of
      committing suicide if I wanted or needed to; but I cannot even do that
      there-here. I wonder where those poor sods went anyway. Perhaps such
      an act is simply a short cut to where I am now, or where I am headed
      for... that light is getting bigger, quite close.... Good grief! What
      the hell... are they doing here?! I suddenly became aware that I was
      drifting past other beings somehow; hundreds of the buggers. I could
      not see them as such but I somehow knew they were there, and I could
      indeed almost see them, a kind of misty outline of some kind. I could
      somehow feel their presence. I became aware that I was somehow passing
      people; or beings of some kind anyway. What the hell are they doing
      here in my mind, or my mind's tomb or whatever or wherever?
      > It was as if I was drifting through their dimension and yet somehow I
      could feel their presence and somehow 'know' them: an empathy of some
      kind. These people, whatever they were, were so good. I do not know
      how I knew that, but I just knew it, and I wanted to be with them above
      all else. If I were on a bus then I would jump off at this stop, but I
      can't do sod all. I want to be with them! I wanted to wave at them to
      attract their attention but I had nothing to wave; yet somehow I
      understood something; a bit like a conversation by telepathy, I thought.
      I could feel them and know them, and understand them somehow. Stone
      me! - they said I cannot be with them... not now! Why not; I want to be
      with them, they are far nicer than many of the people I came across in
      life. They are different somehow; strangely different.
      > Then, without more ado or a by your leave, I suddenly shot off like
      an intergalactic bullet at terrific velocity and away from their
      dimension of existence, or their imagined existence, or whatever. And
      the light which had been a mere pin prick of light, the little star, was
      now much closer and larger. That is no star, I thought; more like a
      hole with light shining through it, or somehow rather drifting out of
      it. It was now almost upon me, or me upon it, whichever. I seemed to
      be in some kind of free fall, a descent or diminishing orbit about it;
      spiraling toward it.
      > It was as though I could feel my own movement now and almost a sense
      of rushing air passing me. Hey, this is quite fun, a good feeling. But
      I do not think it is going to last long somehow! I was no longer
      questioning whether this light was real but rather what it indeed was,
      for I was heading for it and fast. It is not a star, it looks more like
      a hole with light coming out of it from behind. Well, it would seem
      that it is perhaps the death star after all; happy days! Now is the
      time for all good men to come to the aid of Richard... some hope!
      > Well, what is going to be is now going to be, so sod the lot of it:
      for there is nothing I can do about it now. But I could go out singing
      I guess... more dignified than whining. What shall I sing then; it will
      have to be a short song: Ariva Derchi Roma? Old Langsyne? No, I think
      I fancy a bit of Bach.... that is certainly a hole... it IS a hole...
      with light shining through it somehow; what a beautiful light it is to
      be sure... radiant.... strange... this is IT, I am going into it....
      stone the bloody Crows I am falling into it.... Wow!
      > *
      > What happened next is impossible... I think! How do we describe the
      impossible? An event occurred; one event, but it was experienced twice,
      and from two different perspectives or points of reference, and thus
      appeared as two events from hindsight. Yet they could not be remembered
      during the sequence. They could not be remembered for an infinite
      duration of time; not until this whole series of events was over and
      behind me.
      > This event was in a dimension of a trinity of some kind; a trimorphic
      reality of self in some way. However, observation is always dualistic,
      the observer and the observed, it seems; but it can take place from
      three different points of reference in sequence. Is it any wonder that
      we question our sanity for awhile?
      > I will have to describe the following sequence of events just as
      though it was experienced at the time and in the sequence in which the
      events took place. However, at the time, the first sequence could not
      be remembered during the course of the second sequence and thus it was
      experienced (at the time) as if I only went into the white light once.
      But from hindsight it was experienced as going into it twice - even
      though knowing it was only once. The alternative is that two parts of
      me went through two different holes at the same time. Confusing is not
      the word! Who would ask for any of this?
      > I did not experience actually entering the white light. One instant
      I was about to enter it and the next instant I was inside or beyond it.
      If it were possible to have blinked one's eyes then I would have assumed
      that I had blinked and hence missed it. But I know well enough that you
      cannot open or close those eyes. Moreover, I had no knowledge of ever
      entering the white light; there was nothing before this event for that
      part of me in this field. I saw the figure of a Human form. It was
      tall, elegant, old; and standing on top of high precipice, like a cliff
      edge. I (this part of me) was in a location just to its left and a
      little way behind it. But I had no form as did it. I could see the
      left-hand side of its face and form and way off into a strange kind of
      distance to the front and all around it. I must have had two eyes for
      the reality was three dimensional.
      > The space all around was like an eerie white mist and yet somehow
      without being misty, for vision was crystal clear. I could see over the
      edge of the precipice where this figure was standing right near the edge
      of a high drop. However, I myself, the observer, had no form, and this
      figure, or symbolic emanation of a figure, seemed as though it were not
      aware of me watching it, whatever it was. Moreover, I had no
      remembrance of ever arriving here or of anything that had happened
      before. I did not have a clue what I was, or what I was looking at, or
      what either of us were doing here: wherever 'here' was. But it was
      calm, serene, peaceful, poignant, somehow meaningful, but eerie
      nevertheless; strange; mysterious. I had no thoughts going through me,
      no feeling, no questioning; no power to think or reason (as one can from
      hindsight, obviously), but just simply watching and taking it in: and
      not by choice. I, or this part of me, was just an observer (as far as I
      know anyway). If one was being precise then that part of myself could
      be said, from hindsight, to have been like a spare member at a wedding
      or union (Mutual Convergence). And in the true and deepest sense of
      that meaning: a mere observer in order to know!
      > The figure was looking down in toward the whiteness, which was a kind
      of enclosed but huge dome of whiteness. There was only the restriction
      of whiteness, which created the perception of an enclosure or dome of
      some kind. But whilst I was observing all this a small dark aperture in
      an otherwise total whiteness just opened up, like the lens of a camera
      shutter (the round type). The whiteness was not a blinding whiteness
      but simply an absolute pure and soft radiant whiteness: but kind of
      misty. And yet the aperture which opened up like a hole in a wall was
      absolutely round in form and clear-cut defined. But it was tiny; a
      small hole. A small dark opening in a 'non-wall' of the mysterious
      white light; and me with no form, and this form of a figure about three
      feet in front of me and to my right, just standing there watching this
      hole appear. Then, all of a sudden, a small ball of gold glowing light
      popped in through the hole; and as it did so the aperture closed up like
      magic behind it... like a self-closing door.
      > As the being looked down (it sounds like a fairy story but it is the
      literal truth of the events so help me the god of truth), this small
      gold ball of light came through the dark aperture into the white light,
      and there it just kind of hovered, remained stationary, with this figure
      watching it and me watching all of it. As I said, as the small gold
      glowing object entered into the white dome then the aperture through
      which it had come, the small black hole in the white, simply closed up
      and became nonexistent behind it; and the light (gold ball) just sat
      there stationary; a gold ball of light surrounded by a pure white light.
      And all was still... for ages it seemed. It was eerie, so quiet, yet so
      profound. There was not a sound or any further movement. All was utter
      stillness and quiet. Somehow it seemed as if the figure may have been
      an extension of myself with me having some kind of out-of-body
      experience in some strange way; for I knew what was going on in its
      thinking; I think. Yet I was observing from a slight distance away...
      and objective. The small glowing object looked much like a Ping-Pong
      ball, and its radiance was a gold glow which stood out in contrast to
      the surrounding pure and soft white light. As I watched I saw the
      figure shed one tear; one solitary tear ran down its left cheek; yet it
      was happy; so happy. I know not how I knew it, but know it I did. The
      figure was in love with the glowing object. Had I been in a position to
      think, ask questions, or rationalize during that facet of the events,
      then I do not know what I would have thought or reasoned, or understood;
      but I could not. From hindsight it is very strange being a passive
      observer. From hindsight, however, there are no questions to ask
      regarding that event as far as I am concerned; for all was understood;
      it explains itself. Nothing was said; there was not a sound; everything
      was as stationary as the grave with the exception of that teardrop
      slowly rolling down a face. No further movement took place. It was
      profound beyond words. I was not sure whether the figure I had been
      observing was another part of me or not; indeed, at this point I was not
      sure of anything, for I could not think; I was simply an observer. The
      vision then ended as instantly as it had come about, and from that point
      I had no further memory or recollection of it ever happening; or not for
      a long time yet to come. An infinite amount of time.
      > As I said... this was no star, it is a hole with light shining out of
      it, and I am damn well falling in to it.... I am going into it.... Wow!
      I did not actually experience going into the white light; I must have
      blinked or something. One instant I was about to enter it and the next
      instant I was inside of it. I was inside some kind of bubble; a bit
      like a cobweb eggshell, or one of those string lamp shades that gather
      all the dust. I was aware of myself inside this thing; like an embryo
      in an egg of some kind; or shell. It was the first time that I could
      actually see anything of myself since all this began.
      > I was somehow sitting all cramped up like a bloody chicken in an egg;
      wondering what was on the outside that was so bright; and what the hell
      was going on now. But thinking did not come easy at that point, or
      perhaps it was simply more instinctive than rational thinking. But I
      could still think somehow. Beyond this 'bubble' which I was cooped up
      in was a pure radiance of brilliant and dazzling white light. A
      blinding light. I could not seem to think in the normal mode of
      thinking, although I could indeed still think somehow. I had an
      instinctive urge of wanting to scratch my way out of this bubble or
      whatever it was, or at least to see what was outside of it. But there
      was no form to scratch at. I could not touch anything even though I
      seemed to have some kind of physical form of some kind. I think it
      simply must have been too bright and blinding to see properly. I
      suddenly realized that the light was getting brighter and even brighter
      by the second; blinding and more blinding all the time. Or perhaps more
      light was getting in through the mesh of this thing somehow. I began to
      see something - or it may be more true to say 'know' something: but what
      is it... I'm not sure... No, no no it can't be... it is... good grief
      almighty... the thing outside... it is... it is me! With that thought,
      that event, that vision and knowledge I was dead; gone; finished.
      > I saw no form of anything other than brilliant and blinding light, yet
      I knew that something outside was myself: it was obvious; axiomatic;
      absolute knowledge. My being, my consciousness, started spinning,
      swooning somehow, spinning in a giddiness like a vortex of water going
      down a bath plug hole: a vortex of self-existence diminishing into
      nothingness. I knew that my bubble was disintegrating in the light...
      and so was I... I am going... I am being damn well annihilated, melted
      down, disintegrated, burnt out, annihilated. It came to pass that
      everything ended; everything had gone; and I was gone. I and the
      universe were no more. It was the end of time.
      > * * *
      > A Unification in Resurrection
      > within the Virgin Womb of Eternity
      > For an unknown duration after my bubble or shell and I were
      annihilated there was nothing. One cannot talk about nothing, for
      nothing is the total lack of experience, oblivion; like being switched
      off, dead, gone, annihilated. But after a nonduration of time there was
      a re-emergence or resurrection of my being, an annihilation of
      annihilation as such; but the like of which could never be dreamed or
      imagined. No physical eye has ever seen that place, no hand has touched
      it, no dreaming mind has thought of it, and its reality has never
      occurred to the rational mind, which exists in temporality - other than
      through the memory of the Paradise event itself.
      > Annihilation in that mutual convergence was something like passing
      through a magic gate: a gap in the universe: a hole in creation, a gate
      which separates time and temporal things from the transcendent realm of
      a Divine Eternity, the repose of being. Such death is not a death but
      rather the ultimate in living, the ultimate in knowing, and the ultimate
      in comprehension and affirmation. Likewise is it the ultimate in love,
      passion, wisdom, and understanding. From hindsight one would initially
      ask the question as to why the nature of things comes to contain such a
      rare and precious jewel in the crown of creation which would seem to be
      so jealously guarded, and beyond the moat of annihilation itself, that
      so few people ever come to be shown it during the course of their life
      on Earth. A justified question indeed. For everyone should know this
      yet while they live their lives on Earth; or so would be my own
      judgement and that of any other human being who had come to witness this
      wonder beyond all wonders.
      > Dialogue upon the transcendent and eternal realm is not going to be
      easy for the words we use apply to temporal things and not to the
      eternal perception of the divine transcendent realm of perfection in
      which there is knowledge only of the essences of things and not the
      things themselves. Moreover, the vision of the place itself is not what
      paradise is all about, for it is about the feeling and the knowing and
      understanding, not the vision; and even though the vision itself is the
      vision to end all visions.
      > Among all other things one knows (and realizes from hindsight) is
      that we are a kind of jug, a vessel, a conduit, through which the life
      force itself flows. Without created consciousness to act as such
      vessels there could be no further creation, and no point or meaning to
      creation without us. We are the banks of the river of the flow of life;
      and this place is where the banks of the river of life meet the eternal
      riverbed. However, it is not totally impossible to talk of such
      reality, only very difficult; but such experience itself solves many
      mysteries and so-called paradoxes. To say that self-consciousness, or
      I, is resurrected after annihilation is a most fitting description of
      the experience, and the best definition of the event. One could also say
      the annihilation of annihilation; but one cannot say what is happening
      in absolute objective terms of reality; for you and I can never know
      > With regard to the 'awakening' in that realm then, one cannot make
      an analogy of going to sleep and then waking up in another place, for
      that gives the impression of a continuity; which it is not. It is a
      broken continuity of self-being. Broken by the act of annihilation.
      When we awake from sleep we are the same person that went to sleep; we
      vaguely remember going to sleep, we remember having been asleep, and
      when we awake we retain our past memories of having existed before that
      sleep: and thus a continuity of being even though we underwent an
      oblivion of consciousness during dreamless sleep. Neither are we
      actually aware of the point of falling asleep, but we sure are aware of
      being annihilated; and how. And I often wondered why. But if we did
      not come to know then we would never know the connection point between
      time and the everlasting eternal moment of being.
      > Because that place, the transcendent realm, is judged by us (or me)
      to be perfection, for simplicity I refer to it as Paradise. There are
      no names, however. It would be misleading to refer to it as 'eternity,'
      for I always thought of eternity as the sum of all created time.
      Indeed, time as we know it does not even move there. Thus it is the
      beginning of time; hence the womb of eternity. Moreover, nothing at all
      of experienced consciousness has ever known that place and dimension by
      dwelling there. So it is pristine, fresh, childlike, virgin of any
      other experience or memory; and hence my justification for referring to
      it as the 'Virgin Womb of Eternity.' There are no men or women there
      and the word virgin has no connotations of that ilk.
      > However, let us proceed with the event and the understanding of the
      eternal wisdom itself. When we awake in paradise we do not awake in the
      sense of coming out of a sleep; it is nothing like that at all. There
      is no waking up or sleeping in that realm, for when you are resurrected
      into it you have always been there; there is no before. Temporality
      does not apply there. Hence, even if we went there a million times it
      would always be 'once' from our perception of it anyway; and by virtue
      of annihilation itself. Paradise is the beginning; and the end is a
      new beginning. So it is both the beginning and the end, and then the
      beginning again. It is like the knot that joins a round piece of string
      or loop; or the weld that holds the circle of being together. It is
      home! From whence we came. It is my home; everyone's home. We are
      Twins, divine cosmic twins.
      > One does not wake up then or suddenly come into self-consciousness
      there for one has always been there and self-conscious within it.
      Naturally enough, you and I can come to question that truth as it is
      experienced by the I AM within that realm when we are in extension of
      it; and don't I know it. But you cannot whilst in there; it is
      uncontradictable. Thus, when self-consciousness is restored, shall we
      say, after annihilation, it is not the restoration of the personality
      that went in, thus it is not really a resurrection in that sense, for
      that part of ourselves which exists in that realm has always been there;
      and the part, the personality, that went into annihilation does not
      exist there; but it is still you; the real you; but the inner and depth
      eternal you that only this dimension can reveal; and hold. The part
      that is never let go of. So much depends then on the reference point
      one is talking from when using the term 'I' or 'me.' Hence we have to
      come to know our true self; that part which IS the real us, and of which
      everything else is ultimately objective; even the personality, time, and
      changing events. In that realm there is no memory of ever having
      existed before or elsewhere. There is no before or elsewhere. Thus, we
      are not talking about the personality existing in paradise but that of
      the person. The personality is washed away in annihilation. But
      nevertheless that person in paradise is 'me'... 'I am me.' It is still
      my consciousness (you in your case). But not the you of the temporal
      senses. The person and the personality are but two parts of our
      trinity; and the soul or overself is the third part; like three quarks
      in a proton or three peas in a pod. One could therefore mistakenly talk
      about the 'I am' which exists in the womb of eternal mind as being
      objective from the personality of the being in time and space; but to do
      so would be very wrong and also cause a paradox and an alienation of
      self from self, or the outer from the inner. Likewise, it is painfully
      obvious from hindsight that some, if not many (through second-hand
      dialogue and distortions no doubt) have thought this aspect of being to
      be the first cause; the unseen living mover of creation itself. But not
      so; for there is another, and even beyond that depth... beyond our self,
      and which is not us.
      > It must be remembered that the eternal paradise of the ground of our
      being is experienced to be the first created thing and place; but
      certainly not the creative source itself. Although it is known to be
      the first emanation of the creative source itself, the first act of
      creation. In the beginning man was indeed in the garden of eternal
      delight and perfection: paradise. But as I say, it would still require
      an 'act' to bring forth paradise and the minds within it. Thus it is
      also known whilst in that place that there is a deeper but uncreated
      reality. But not a deeper reality that you or I can ever get to; and
      that is a known fact whilst there. The I am which exists in that
      reality is not the first cause, and that is axiomatic at the time. It
      is the first thing 'caused.'
      > However, it was not created in time; certainly not the kind of
      space-time that you and I know out here. It is deeper down within the
      inner structure of emanation than the point where space-time becomes a
      phenomenon of extended reality; just as a river is not the riverbed, but
      without a river-bed and the banks there could be no river. It is the
      ground of being; not the creative source of all being.
      > Let us continue, however, with the exegesis as it unfolded. I was
      resurrected from non-existence, death, into a place of eternal
      perfection. In that place there is perfect vision (those who are blind
      will see). A vision which must be from two locations, I guess, because
      the vision, the place, is three dimensional: binocular vision. There
      exists width, breadth, and depth. The place or realm, goes on as far as
      one can see, and into a distance beyond sight itself, for it is
      everywhere and everything. There is up, and there is down, there is
      left and there is right, all relative to the point of vision, needless
      to say. The vision is of darkness and of infinite jewel-like glowing
      lights. The lights are like jewels, diamonds set in a sea of purple
      glowing darkness; which is not really dark at all, but somehow pulsating
      with vitality and being. The lights are small but more than mere points
      of light, and they are of various sizes and distances apart. Some are
      even kind of wispy and strung out; but most are roundish. Neither the
      darkness or the lights can be described in a way that does them justice,
      for the beauty transcends anything known or knowable. It is the
      original unadulterated essence and principle of beauty.
      > The lights in that realm are stationary, or so it seems to
      observation. Nothing moves; all is still and silent. The only thing
      that moves is I, or self-consciousness. I AM slowly drifts through that
      realm in a clockwise orbit; a slow orbit, but an orbit nevertheless.
      Initially it is like a slow drifting in a straight line. However, it is
      an orbit, a clockwise orbit, assuming the clock were lying face up on
      the floor. The orbit is of great distance and almost perceived as a
      straight line, but it is known to be an orbit about an unseen center.
      The I that exists there (us) has no perceived substance or form, it is
      just pure virgin primordial consciousness as far as we are concerned; or
      a mysterious substance that can be made conscious: a 'spirit stuff or
      energy' of some kind. But what it is made of (if anything other than
      consciousness) cannot be known. It cannot be seen or touched. It is as
      if such energy is sacrosanct.
      > There is no form to the eyes that see, for it is the consciousness or
      energy itself which can see. It can see almost all the way around
      itself, but not quite all the way around. Thus you cannot see directly
      behind you, but you can indeed see well to the left and right in greater
      vision than human vision. In one's drifting in this paradise one does
      not come into contact with the lights at all; and one does not really
      know what the lights are (one can deduce from hindsight, though). They
      are just lights, beautiful lights, and their configuration slowly alters
      with the perspective of one's movement in orbit.
      > The darkness itself is indescribable; it is like a translucent glow
      of purple soup which is somehow vibrant, vital; it is not a void and it
      is not mere space in between the lights; it is a 'something'; but more
      like a glowing soup or aura, somehow. Perhaps it is the 'stuff' that
      beings 'congeal' out of; like planets and stars in the universe. And
      one's orbit is through this divine and wondrous darkness amid the
      jewel-like lights. Thus, it is a brightness as well as a darkness.
      Like the twilight of the gods indeed. The description may make it sound
      a little bit like the physical universe with the stars amid black space;
      but it is nothing like that at all. If anything, it is more like the
      vision among a nebula in a past supernova. The lights are much bigger
      than our perception of stars, which are mere pin pricks of light, and
      there is a tint of color in them even, as I say, like diamonds; but the
      predominant aura and glow is white. They have a substance and shape,
      but there seems to be no absolute uniformity of shape; most seem to be
      round. The darkness is nothing like outer space, and it is not even
      dark at all; but darkish, like purple that is glowing. The lights are
      not as distant as the stars in space, even though they are not in
      contact; and the distances between them is many times their actual size.
      Thus, it is not like the emptiness of outer space at all. Moreover, one
      can see all this without turning one's vision, for indeed, one cannot
      turn one's vision. There is no 'Oh, I think I will look that way or
      this way'... you just see it all, all the time. But you also know that
      you are not seeing 'it all' at all, for it is infinite and everywhere.
      > However, that realm is not about the vision, it is about the magic:
      the knowing, the understanding, the passion, the reality, the knowing
      the 'all,' the love, the wisdom, the beauty, and above all else, it is
      about the purpose of creation and being. It is ineffable, really. In a
      word it is all about 'being there'; taking part in this Divine mystical
      union of creation at root beyond time. It seems that the vision itself
      is a kind of bonus perhaps: a place in which to do this knowing yet
      whilst in a repose of divine peace; the peace that passes all
      understanding, perfection, and affirmation of being. It is like an amen
      to creation; the swan song of perfection. It is like the last chord of
      the ultimate piece of perfect music; a chord that comes like an amen
      after that pregnant pause and build-up to the final chord. There could
      be nothing cleverer and wiser than to have annihilation precede this
      reality; it is like music in that sense: the last, and divine chord of
      created being when all has seemed to be done and finished.
      > Nevertheless, it is also the beginning as well as the end, for it is
      where we come from. It could be described as the cosmological waiting
      room of created consciousness before transmigration into the experience
      of time, freedom, and activity. There are no other beings perceived (or
      even known of) in paradise; one is totally alone with this truth and its
      reality. Thus the place and the knowledge is all yours, all mine, all
      beings from their point of reference and consciousness; it is the realm
      where all centres meet beyond space and time in the primordial
      Motherload of created consciousness: minds, spirits, beings, whatever
      you want to call them. 'Motherload' does not mean female either. It
      means the main seam, the core, and the original. It is pure
      consciousness; beyond time, space, and memory. It (I AM) is the alpha
      and omega of all extended minds; the beginning and the end of all
      created beings in creation; the first creation and the home that awaits
      the return of all created minds, which are but the children or progeny
      of creation. Nothing was created before I AM and paradise: and nothing
      is created after me; I am the beginning and the end of creation.
      > Thus it is that the consciousness in the repose of the eternal domain
      is the first child of creation - in the Virgin Birth of creation itself.
      The real and only Virgin Birth (and this one is not symbolic, it is the
      real thing). Before the mountains high and wide, before the seas did
      flow, before the stars gave forth their light, even then, I said, I
      know. Before my personality was, I AM. Before cave men came into
      being, I AM. Look deeper than the stones of the earth and the oceans,
      and there you will find me; I am the light which is beyond them all; I
      am the light of life and the resurrection. Know me, and you will know
      yourself; for I AM... and you are I AM. Thus, it is not metaphysics but
      PROTOPHYSICS; before physics. It is not 'after time' (although it is
      that also); it is before time moved; before changing events emanated
      forth from the center of all being and the eternal point of no duration.
      We are there at the beginning, like the observer of the first act of
      creation. Our self-consciousness in that dimension cannot think;
      thinking is a temporal process; but it is totally aware nevertheless
      (thus, knowledge before thought: thus thought depends on knowledge...
      not the other way around as many seem to assume. Earthly philosophers
      are like mere babies in Divine ignorance). It (we) is (are) not aware
      of things as we are aware of things out here, however, but it is an
      awareness of what can only be described as the essences and eternal
      principles and qualities of things; truths; depth realities; quality;
      meaning; purpose; beauty; wisdom; passion.
      > That root of our being of eternal consciousness, that part of
      ourselves which exists there at the deepest level, the first child of
      creation, is totally in absolute love, a passion beyond description. It
      is filled with the passion of being to such a degre<br/><br/>(Message over 64 KB, truncated)
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