I've been warned by one of the moderators of the Thomas group that I'm treading on a thin crust of credibility. "No shit... Ya THINK??"
I'm writing about blaspheming the spirit of God and she suggests I'm "one toke over the line, Sweet Jesus.." ? I know exactly why this Leo woman is telling me what's what. I don't particularly wanna know. I just do. She's giving me advice she should be taking herself. I keep telling the people in this e-mail group that the advice they give other people is the small, quiet voice they've been questing to hear forever and a day. They don't appear to realize they're tersely ignoring it and projecting it on to the Other, but do they listen? Why would they? No blame.
Their very act of giving advice to other people that is their small, quiet voice's final attempt to at least get them to heed the inner way before it gives up on them for being too stupid to govern. Who hasn't heard that we should let that small, quiet voice tell us how to lead our lives? It's my suspicion that many sincere people really would commit to this wisdom if they knew how to pull it off. I only learned about this through subjecting myself to sensory deprivation on a regular basis for a couple of years.
It's all about what happens when a homo sapiens crawls inside a sensory deprived situation like a cave or a cavern or a constructed situation designed to shut as much of the sensory information a human animal is subjected to through the various environments they engage or encounter, deliberately or no. Take the sense of sight, for instance. If you're in a place where all possible light is shut out, then the stimuli you might experience through your eyes is negated to the level of visible light available. Total, absolute darkness is the ideal. In total darkness, one doesn't have to ignore anything visually. There is no stimuli to spark off the visual neurons for any reason. The visual part of the brain is silent and unmoved across the waters of the deep.
The sense of hearing is under the same constraints. If the space is insulated from external sound, and total silence is produced in a totally dark environment, then soon enow you won't see or hear images that have an external source. With these two main senses divorced from external reality, then the other three senses of smell, taste, and touch are truly manageable. Throw in twelve inches of water maintained at an ambient temperature two and a half degrees below your normal body temperature with eight hundred pounds of epsom salt hanging in suspension to help you float, and the sense of feel is seriously diminished too.
The upshot of sensory deprivation to any degree is that the sensory stimuli needed to maintain conscious awareness of the external world is impeded enough to be able to start paying attention to internally inspired stimuli like the content of the dreams you have at night. In a fairly complete sensory deprived situation, when the brain (medulla oblongata) detects the physical obstructions you're shutting out the world with, it revs up the amount of consciousness you perceive the external world with in order to compensate for the deliberate obstructions. This way, by the time the brain realizes it's opened up consciousness as much as it can, and abandons it's effort to stay connected to the external world via sensory stimuli, and subsequently converts it's efforts to the dreamtime, it's ability to be conscious to the hypnogogic images of REM sleep is as opened up as it can be, and is critically focused on lucid dreaming as consciously as is possible for it.
The chances are real that IF this woman would listen to what her own rules of conscience was telling her, she would never give anybody anymore advice. She would listen to her own voice of (w)hol(e)-I-am-ness (holiness) in dreamy exclusivity until she didn't recognize her own children anymore.
The real problem with that is that she only recently got her ticket-to-ride as a preacher, and as a matriculated Leo cheerleader who was born to show her ass, I don't think she can resist the temptation to give advice from the pulpit, and thereby spit in the face of the God she admits to not knowing by projection.
I can't act like I didn't write what I wrote about blasphemy of the spirit, or quoting the pertinent Saying from the Gospel of Thomas. I can't deny that I believe my curiosity is older than God. God is only a Demiurge. Curiosity is the full monte. THE URGE. Nothing half-assed or "demi" about it.
I enjoyed writing the following comment to this ex-priest's question:
When Jesus took Lazarus into private chambers, do you think the
chambers dictated who was top and who was bottom?
As portrayed by the graven images created to distort the original, fluidic, orally conveyed campfire stories of an ancient heroic fare, Lazarus was lifted up and Jesus was taken down. The hard way. A six, with the One as a leaner.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
