The Way Ahead Newsletter: No. 22
It is good to connect once again, as the autumn sun, wind, or rain now comes to usher in the arrival of the winter months. The upcoming months will be ones that symbolize a form of hibernation for those of us in the hemisphere where winter approaches. Yet perhaps this is not the same for external events. Often these are the months were unsettling events play out their drama upon the world stage...and we become ever more dependent upon those energy lines (power grids) that supply us our warmth to keep us snug. Little inconveniences in these external dependencies and comforts can draw our full attention into the smaller moments - and even into pettiness. Yet it is important we retain a connection - and perspective - onto the 'bigger picture'. That is why in this month's 'Reflections' I would like to cite an extract from the conversations I had (in Spring 2012) with a person I knew as 'Monroe'...his reflections cast a glance upon this bigger picture, which reveals that perhaps we are not upon a haphazard journey after all....let's read on!
‘The history of the Earth shows a slow yet accelerating transformation from lifelessness to life, from primitive sense-forms to developed consciousness. It has not, mind you, always been a smooth journey. There have been profound moments of collapse; yet the adaptation of life on this planet and its ability to immerse itself into its energetic environment is a marvel. You are not the result of mechanical forces, operating blindly within a sea of chance. This is such a disenchanting and, may I say it, post-primitive stage of thinking. I say post-primitive because even the primitive stage is more accepting of the place of life within a grander sacred order. Yet the ignorance that comes later, posing as scientific rationality, is so awkward and dry. It has no scope for the magnificence of love and compassionate wisdom. So you burn your feet trying to reach for the stars through rocket fuel. Amazingly odd!’ Monroe cocked his head with a little smile in my direction.
‘I guess we’re still learning’ I said smiling back at him.
‘I guess so’ said Monroe in a sort of conspiratorial tone. ‘Yet,’ he continued, ‘Life must become responsible for itself. Until that time it must accept the possibility that there are guiding and nurturing forces. Do you really think conscious life made it this far upon its own good fortune? Or perhaps, like many others upon this planet, you believe that it is the survival of the fittest that has been the evolutionary driver, battling away through generations to be top of the evolutionary tree? Really, it’s a bit silly, don’t you think?’
‘Well, I do agree that Darwinism has now been pretty much taken apart by modern science and only a minority now accept a strict Darwinian interpretation’ I replied.
‘Pretty much. Although more people than you think still adhere to a fundamental Darwinian interpretation of evolution. Creationism or fundamental Darwinism – it’s the same mechanisms of extreme beliefs in operation, and the same inflexibility to incorporate new ideas into one’s conditioned belief structures. Really, is it so strange to think that there might be an intelligence behind evolution? Many of your scientists often talk of nature as if she is imbued with intelligence; and many of the braver ones actually talk in terms of conscious intelligent fields in nature. So, your fields of thought are gradually getting there. You just need more time for the seeds to develop within your culture. The seeds have already been sown. After all, it is the duty of a nurturing intelligence to make sure that the seeds are
sown – at the right time and in the right place.’ Monroe slightly raised a finger from his folded hands on his lap as if to emphasize his next remark. ‘Growing times, mind you, vary from years to centuries; and sometimes beyond. Farsight is quite amazing when you see it in operation.’
‘I have no way to comprehend this’ I said after a short pause; ‘yet it feels reasonable to me.’
‘Reasonable it is’ agreed Monroe. ‘There are in fact many indicators of this operative design in your own recorded stories. Again, through your polarity lens, you name them as history or myths. History has been used, and abused, to record the past and can be used to connect with a future; whereas myth belongs to the eternal present. Both these carriers of information, streams of code, have woven themselves through your species history as veins supplying your lifeblood. Myths, especially, are part of your genetic inheritance as a species. Thousands of years can pass, your greatest monuments reduced to dust, and yet myths live on as long as there are people in the world. Whatever passes in our conversation as unreasonable for your thinking patterns or unrealistic for your senses, then just put it down as being another myth - a mythology being woven between friends!’ Monroe turned to me and gave what I remembered to be such a warm and genuinely affectionate smile. I remember the glow of energy I felt when receiving this smile. And for that brief moment I felt a strong kinship with Monroe that I could not put into words. It was as if I had known this man for such a long time, instead of the few short hours of our meeting. ‘At this stage it doesn’t really matter whether you believe
it or not,’ continued Monroe, ‘as belief is only a category for storing information which you have no rational explanation or science for. It’s a convenient little box to place opinions and events that take your fancy, interest you, or are curious about, and yet which you have no credible means to validate. It’s amazing how society accepts beliefs, or the right to hold beliefs, no matter how crazy they are, yet has little or no capacity for validating experiential reality. Artificial reality seems to be the general agreed upon true ‘one god reality’, because it can be uniformly attested to, manipulated, and controlled. Yet the reality that lies beyond the filtering mechanisms of human sense organs – what you call subjective non-ordinary states – are seen as oddities, party talk, or madness. Anyway, you have your myths, and be thankful that these eternal seeds of wisdom remain firmly planted in your species soil. Are you comfortable?’ This question coming from out the blue startled me out of my thoughts.
‘Yes, thanks, all is good’ I replied.
‘I didn’t ask you if you were good, although I’m glad to hear that too. I asked you if you were comfortable’ said Monroe in a detached, non-critical tone. Again, I realized that I had to watch my language when speaking around Monroe as he seemed to treat language as a precise instrument.
‘Thank you; yes, I am comfortable’ I said.
‘Good. Now have you ever considered a form of higher intelligence that enters into humanity?’
‘You mean like a kind of possession of human souls?’
‘Dear no,’ replied Monroe, ‘that sounds too much like some religious fear rhetoric; possessing your soul, like those scary feature films you people love to watch. I’m talking of an intelligence that enters into individual or collective minds; you might call it inspiration. Have you never wondered where your thoughts come from? Do you think that all your thoughts are the result of neurons firing inside your head; just some sparks of electric passing through your neuronal passageways? How does humanity account for great leaps of inspiration? Why are there geniuses when everybody is gifted with the same structured brain? Have these such thoughts ever entered into
‘Sometimes, yes’ I admitted. ‘I have often wondered where thoughts originate from and whether they are formed inside the head or can be picked-up from outside.’
‘I see’ nodded Monroe. ‘You tell me that both sometimes
you think of these things, and also that you have often
wondered on these matters. Mmm…both sometimes and often. How should I interpret that?’ said Monroe as if speaking to himself. Then he turned to me with a big grin, as though letting me know that all was okay. ‘Now, let me offer this perspective. Just as the human body is composed of many parts, of different organs with different functions that operate in their own individual ways; when they come together they form a whole, interactive, communicative body. Likewise, think of a color, any color; the color is the same whether it is represented by a drop or an ocean. The essence of living intelligence is simultaneously a part as well as the whole. There are ‘parts’ of this whole intelligence that can enter into the human being and communicate through both conscious and unconscious thoughts. This is one form of interaction between higher intelligence and humanity that allows for evolutionary guidance to operate.’
‘And the other form?’ I asked after there had been a suitable pause.
‘The other way is indirectly,’ continued Monroe...
Some News of Interest
A 'Saying' to Share
‘Huge buildings and colleges, and colloquia, cloisters and university halls: what is their advantage if the heart is not wise and the seeing eye is absent?’
A Tale to Finish
Once upon a time in a faraway country two princes fought a duel. As was customary at that place, the winner could refrain from killing his losing opponent immediately, thus granting a stay of execution. Yet execution would be inevitable.
The prince who finally lost the duel was taken to the winner’s palace and instead of being locked in a dungeon was installed in one of the best rooms in the palace. Everyday he was attended with great solemnity, as befitted his lineage, and they had great parties and exquisite meals. But the prince knew that sooner or later he was going to be executed and each passing day his anguish grew. On a day of his choosing he could send a message to the winning prince asking for charity, to end his suffering and to take his life. The imprisoned prince sent this plea, and the winning prince agreed to his plea and arranged to have the execution take place the next day.
The morning of the execution the court summoned everyone to the biggest party you can imagine. There was music and dancing, the best food and drinks were served on huge tables, and a great event organized. It was magnificent – yet the prince could not forget that the time for his execution was always at hand and his anguish was growing by the minute. The party continued, and a group of dancers danced in the centre of the large room with huge curved swords in their hands - to the amazement of the audience their dance and their turning gave the impression of flying.
Finally the prince could stand the anguish no more and cried out to his generous host:
‘Please, perform my execution now – I cannot stand this anxiety!’
‘Dude, you’ve already been executed! Move your shoulders, and see as your head hits the ground’ replied the winning prince.