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.


Consciousness Exploring Consciousness

As we proceed on our inner journeys, employing whatever paths, traditional or innovative, that seem to fit our current needs,  – prayer, yoga, meditation, running, sacramental psychedelics,  – we arrive at the understanding that all is consciousness, matter, thought, emotion, that everything is alive and self-directed, aware organisms pushing the envelope of their potential.

When we arrive at this juncture it is often the fulfilment of teachings studied and practiced for years, concepts and theories that seemed to unravel the paradoxes and mysteries structuring the obstacle race that seems to constitute our lives.  All those whys and hows uttered in frustration and  resentment.

When our personal perceptions confirm the teachings we have studied and practiced there is usually a tremendous uplift of exhiliration that erupts in our hearts, or maybe charges down through our crown chakra, illuminating our earlier ignorance as some silly detour on the way to the destination that is here and now and always has been, had we not been distracted in some dalliance with the shiny baubles of temporary illusions.

That exhiliration, to be one with all that is, all the microbes, elementals, committees, transactions, beliefs, communities and tragedies, while invigorating to the aspirant, is almost commonplace for the archangel or adept, or any highly evolved being going about their business.  To them we are like children in the playground who have found the gate in the fence is actually unlocked and the river beyond safely shallow and full of delightful little fish.

Our brief encounters with such cosmic conciousness are indeed a taste of the holy grail hinted at and sometimes promised in all the ancient teachings.  Usually we cannot sustain the transcendence of self-consciousness for very long, such is the fragility of the new body built to experience it.  It only gains strength and flexibility from repeated exposures to the bracing radiance that the elevation encounters.  Our personal concerns and petty ambitions always reassert themselves with that familiar pride of attachment, anchoring our flight into the empyrean in the harbour of habit and neurosis.

But even these brief interludes in the line up of tiresome committments that claim our time can be enough to show us that we are at one with the consciousness that is endlessly creating and recreating the universe as it expands beyond any horizon we devise for it.  For we, as incarnate experiments dreamed up by Monads making adjustments to earlier templates, are endlesssly creating and re-creating our selves in the various worlds available for the quenching of our thirsts.  Those selves are never inactive, whether alive on the physical, alive on the astral or footloose and fancy free in the nirvanas of formless radiance, we never cease to participate in one fashion or another.  Our slice of consciousness operates more or less exactly as the greater ones, like the fabled Amina Mundi, do, exploring expansion and contraction and self replication in any manner perceived as possible.

All this can be experienced in moments of meditation, consciousness projection or psychedelic intoxication.  How much of it can be absorbed and retained for further use depends on the flexibility of the fragile ego, who much prefers the habit of forgetfulness, where blame can be righteously apportioned and responsibility playfully schucked.

Why did no one tell us the gate was unlocked?  What was all that stuff about the river being too deep and dragging the unwary out to sea?  When will authority release us from bondage?  Why does society allow such injustice?  What are you really doing god?