The Cleverest Conspiracy Of All


We live in an age of conspiracies and rumours of conspiracies.  Even those who mock and deny their existence feel the need to talk about them in a disparaging manner.  Governments, corporations and intelligence services all thrive on their production, implementation and cover-up.  Educated populations, now mostly freed from the threats of eternal damnation, loosened with ever increasing leisure, and armoured as never before with access to information, demand ever more sophisticated cover-ups and plausible denials delivered with assurance and aplomb.  Children with considerably more than spare change, we now require sophistry on the level of myth, complete with the the panoply of dramatis personae we have come to expect down through the storytelling ages.

Some ancient battle between darkness and light, truth and deception, seems to be continuously reenacted on the world stage.  It is a drama of operatic dimensions that could easily grow a religion or two about it.  Who will save us from the lying demagogues of democracy, the chorus asks.  Who shall deliver us from the seductive pit of propaganda?  The answer is perhaps obvious: us.  Us and only us.  We the people, who are so much more than concerned citizens, but who have forgotten their divine origins and are dwarfed by those who would manipulate our ignorance into endless dependence.  We need not wait for all the Pinocchios to grow long noses.

All the political shenanigans, all the crafted assassinations, all the bombings with their stage managed radicals, all the wars over natural resources spin doctored into evil dragon slaying, all the drugs so carefully designed, all the spiritual wickedness in high places, it’s merely the play of Maya, illusions prancing their hour upon the stage.  It need not detain us, although it can and does, our fascination with baubles and blood being what it is.  But for those of us on our way to graduation, a not insignificant number I might add, the cleverest conspiracy of all is that of the Higher Self.

The Higher Self conspires, unfortunately with our full cooperation, to denude us of all cosmic consciousness, so that our delivery onto the physical plane through the medium of our mother’s womb is accomplished with such a narrowing of the psyche that the phrase blank slate is the most accurate for our tiny embodiment of life.  So although we are emanations from a virtually omniscient Monad (group soul, Higher Self), by the time we descend through the planes to arrive here almost emptied of our previous divinity, and proceed, through many trials and tribulations, to recover our heritage shorn of the illusions of ego and society, we are essentially starting out once again from the basement of consciousness to explore not only the house above but the many mansions which it magically contains.

And we essay these explorations as dim witted but boisterous children, eager for adventure but easily cowed by frights and cuts.  As personalities we grow with our family and society imposed definitions, all of which are useful within the parameters laid out before us, becoming independent and educated adults.  But as spirits in the material world these definitions become ties which keep us in bondage, too timid to explore the unknown and unseen.  And when, out of frustration or giddiness, we do reach out a seeking beam, they remind us to doubt and distrust, to return to the basement where being rendered stupid with safety is the community standard.

In our ignorance as state sanctioned citizens with rights and responsibilities we often remain, assured that we are contributing in an accountable and civilized manner.  But as citizens thus defined we remain ignorant of our greater selves, our original share of divinity, and we quietly assume our tiny spots in history, the subject of forces beyond our control, when in fact we have picked a life path of challenges suited to our needs, and only appear to be buffeted by the fates of disease, lousy weather and political repression.  Whether we have chosen wisely or been rushed by the prospect of thrills is another matter, but the metaphysical fact is that we have picked and are partaking.

But our ego based illusions about our limited and isolated selves conspire to keep us in our place, while attributes such as gravity and debt assure us we have made the smart choice.  Inside our separated selves, our much valued individuality, we look to sources of power outside us.  Whether natural, as in earthquakes or floods, or man made, such as banking or government, we feel dominated, threatened, conspired against, that there is a hidden order which executes plans in the shadows, regardless of our requirements or well being.  There are hidden orders conspiring contemptuously in the shadows, but they operate at the level of ego and ego gratification, and as such, live in even more illusion than yourself, the seeker and would-be disciple of the mysteries.

The cleverest and most cunning conspiracy of them all is the one you delude yourself with, that we all delude ourselves with: that no matter what your station in life, your race or gender, your degree of freedom or repression, you are in essence an unbounded being of light, a conscious contributing emblem of divinity, who is only pretending to be daft and lost and limited.


The Endless Opportunities Of Incarnation


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Many of us experience what I might call a “temporary residence in enlightenment” where everything seems in balance, and those perpetually arguing polarities are becalmed into harmony, the doer and the done combined into one, the perceiver and perceived one landscape of interaction, the bliss of unity so obvious it’s almost laughable, but at some point our cruising altitude is lowered and we are buffeted once again by the chilly breezes of frustration, irritation and anger. Our personhood once again becomes an elaborate performance, to please the audiences and other actors, a calculated response to pressures and imperfections.

And as the disappointment sinks in we wonder how we might retain that former glory in the heavenly state that is surely the mirror of the harmony of that real heaven hovering elsewhere. And so we resort to techniques, rituals, attitudes and teachers, and within those systems and processes discover that unity consciousness, where the one dissolves in the One, while sometimes attainable through effort, is actually only to be inhabited by surrendering. Surrendering one’s ambitions, fears, superstitions and doubts, and then accepting exactly ‘what is’, both in oneself and the world.

And ‘what is’, of course, is always mired in imperfections, – clumsiness, rudeness and nastiness – but the willing submission to all that stupidity, and loving it for what it is, not what it might become, given the corrective measures do-gooders insist on, there lies the heaven on earth you’ve heard about in various hints and mysterious suggestions.

The world is perfect as it is, all the ambitions and angers locking together immaculately, all locks with their accompanying keys, all the situations we thought needed fixed, all that crap that requires correction, it exists in perfect harmony with all the players caught up in the matrix.

And when those players renounce their attachments and graduate from those losing propositions, other souls arrive, right on schedule from central casting, who need the experience to fill out their cv.  Every situation, however corrupted by ruthless disregard for the rights of others, all those victors/victims, oppressors/oppressed, are ideal templates for the next generation of incoming acolytes.

As the saying goes, ‘there’s a sucker born every minute’, but each one of those suckers finally moves up, stage by painful stage, to the supreme consciousness, leaving a niche for the next politician, CEO, celebrity, housewife, peasant, plumber, hitman or fraudster. And living, for however long your wounded ego can handle it, in that blissful consciousness of unity, can show you this. You the victim, you the lover, you the athlete, you the experiencer at one with your experience.