Article: "LOOKY OVER YONDER"

Well, it's time to write another blog. I think I will just sit down here and start typing and see what I can come up with. I have been curious about the weather lately, but I don't know anything about the weather. Even if I knew something about the weather, I doubt that anyone would want to read the about the obvious. Weather's weather. Get used to it. I just noticed how difficult it is to write in a real time present tense. But just by saying that I have slipped back into writing just a little behind real time. I'm more comfortable there for some reason. So perhaps I will just carry on with some story telling and not give much thought to the tense I'm writing in. Besides, I just heard a strange sound outside.

A peculiar, unfamiliar humming, it seems to have stabilized in my back yard. Then I hear a knock on the door. I look out the window but I don't see anything but still, I hear the Hum. So I go to the door and look out but there's no one there. Then I hear the knocking again, right in front of me on the door. I decide to just go ahead and open the door. I feel something like the wind come in and there's all of a sudden a strange hue and very faint sweet scent in my room. Somehow I knew I wasn't alone, but yet there was no one there. I was just about ready to forget about it and start writing my weather blog when across my computer screen a message appeared.

"Hoss," my computer typed, "I don't expect you to trust me, but the reality is you already have invited me in by opening your door. I would prefer to talk to you face to face, but in order to do so we have to rearrange your perceptual bandwidth."

"Uh," I typed back, "I'm pretty happy with my perceptual bandwidth just the way it is." Though I was curious, and strangely unafraid, plus I wasn't in any hurry. Besides, this all came to me and so why not go at my own pace.

"Hoss, in just a moment a goblet will appear with a shimmering liquid, I need for you to drink it and then just wait for a few seconds." My computer again typed, seemingly on auto pilot.

Before I could respond a silver, yet transparent, goblet did appear right in front of my keyboard. In the goblet was the most unique, shimmering liquid substance I had ever seen. I wanted to drink it. I picked up the goblet and there was a tingling going up my arm.

"Hoss, you don't have to gulp it down, just relax and drink it like water," my computer instructed me.

So I said cheers and bottoms up and drank the liquid. It was a very tasty, sweet concoction. Then I heard a buzzing in my head and all of a sudden my world started to vanish. Then I began to make out the silhouette of a woman standing over my shoulder.

"Where are we and who are you?" I asked the woman.

"We haven't moved an inch Hoss," she said smiling. "We have simply adjusted your perceptual bandwidth. But don't worry the effect is only temporary."

I began to look around. It was like I was standing in empty space. Except there was no space. The feeling of temporality was gone. There were no passing moments, no relativity.

"Let's go Hoss," she said.

"Go where?" I asked, "The world is gone. There is no more space or time."

"Just give yourself a chance to tune in the new bandwidth you're now on. It will take your awareness a bit to categorize this new reality and then it will all make sense," she patiently explained.

Sure enough I began to get a glimpse. It was like going from a real lit room into a dark one, my eyes began to adjust. Except that what I was seeing, not looking at in the usual sense, was wonder itself. I knew we were somewhere over the rainbow.

"That's close Hoss," She said, happy that I was coming around. "You're now on the other side of the speed of light. The speed of light as your science calls it is actually a wall that divides the unreal from the real. You're in the real now, Hoss." She went on to say that the mechanical universe, humans exist in, is a smudge on the glistening face of the ethereal, an aberration, an accident. She said that it wouldn't really matter much except that, and again by accident, it was discovered that awareness had become trapped in there. Trapped in that smudge.

"So why tell me?" I asked, "What possible difference can it make my knowing and seeing all this? It's not like this is Heaven or anything is it?"

"No," she said. "The myth of Heaven may have started out as a recounting of certain Awareness's feeling that the trap of the mechanical universe could be opened. An escape could be made and Awareness could find it's way back to it's true home."

"All I see is a luminescent crystal lattice. I feel as if I'm gliding but staying in one place at the same time. It's a little disquieting." I said, perhaps whining. I suppose I just needed more experience in this spaceless, timeless realm before I would get comfortable.

"That's the funny thing Hoss," she laughed, and then continued, "This is the true home of awareness. It is the crude bandwidth you've been living on that's uncomfortable and restricting. We want to bring awareness back home, but there are sinister forces in the mechanical universe making awareness forget it's natural, expansive state, making Awareness believe things. Awareness doesn't need to believe anything." She said that the smudge was getting to be a noisy, ugly disturbance on the face of the eternal, something like a cancer. That the time was coming when the smudge would have to be rubbed out. But, in fact the smudge was contracting under it's own weight and that soon it would simply disappear just as it strangely, for no apparent reason, appeared just awhile ago. But she was hoping to rescue as much of the trapped awareness as possible in the mean time.

I was becoming aware of the lies of the Material world. It's science says nothing is faster than the speed of light, yet here I am, there. Religion saying Heaven is a place you can go after you die. But it turns out that the world is a place awareness gets trapped and tricked into forgetting it's alive. This carrot on a stick Heaven is used to manipulate trapped awareness. The forces of materiality are designed to validate this illusion. That's worse than dying.

"So why not just pour some of that liquid in the drinking water of every town and city on my befuddled world?" I ask, thinking the solution was just that simple.

"That's just it Hoss, we have poured that glistening potion in the drinking water. It doesn't have any effect. It seems the collective power of belief by Humanity is too strong for the potion to work through. Every great now and then we find awareness free enough to be affected, free minded enough to look up at the sky and sense the walls of the trap, feel the imprisoning limit of the speed of light and then sense the unreality of his situation." She went on to lament that the effect was always temporary but was hopeful of an accruing gradual change. A steady uplifting of awareness of awareness, step by tiny little step.

"How come I'm not aware of any awareness here but yours?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

"You tell me Hoss." she replied. "You tell me how you don't even sense awareness back in your retarded material world, not even your own awareness most of the time."

She was right. I live in a sense deprived vacuum on a treadmill of prescribed rote impressions. I miss everything that's truly alive and important.

But now I can see my computer coming back into focus. I'm sort of glad to be back in my trap. I suppose no one tries to escape from a prison when it's just this comfortable and routine. Routine is my handmaiden. The challenge of free awareness will just have to wait. I'm going outside to look at the weather.

"It was nice to finally talk face to face," my computer types.

"Yes it was," I type back. "I'm going to remember someday your beautiful world of pure awareness, but until then, you're always welcome, just come on in, you don't even have to knock anymore."

I shake my head and sigh, and then I pick up the now empty goblet and decide to put it on my shelf. I place it high and then turn and walk to the door. I going outside to watch the lightning. Lightning is wondrous at this hour.