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.


Three Cheers For Monism

Yes, all the above can be read as Three Cheers For Monism!  In the debates throughout the centuries over spirit vs. matter, both philosophical and theological, the accepted dualism served religions’ agendas well, sourcing all its good vs. evil directives that funneled the faithful into the heaven or hellbound channels.  Philosophers seemed to prefer the mind/body dualism with its current neurologists’ reboot, the mind/brain fracas.

Of course, all dualisms emerge from the One as soon as we do, leaving the radiant void, the ground of all being, to become a little being getting buffeted about by those slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  Suddenly, with a form to rally round, it’s the self and the other, the warm and the cold, the male and the female, the right and the wrong. the eat or be eaten, the good guys and the bad guys, the good and the evil. They are all as inevitable and unavoidable as sun and shadow.

Wikipedia asserts three types of monism, – priority monism, existence monism and substance monism.  Substance monism posits “that only one kind of stuff exists, although many things may be made up of this stuff”.  And although existence monism has a lot going for it (“there exists only a single thing, which can only be arbitrarily divided into many things”), aligning itself with one of my old favourites, NeoPlatonism, (“everything is derived from The One”), for me substance monism wins by a nose.

It’s becoming a new age commonplace to say that we are, by our continued efforts, spiritualizing matter, and I’d be inclined to agree.  That matter is completely malleable when directed by thought on the astral plane is obvious to experiencers and those who take the time to collate their reports and evaluate them.  And as the physical plane’s vibration is gradually raised to that of the astral, such miraculous activity will veer toward the norm, the norm that is accepted and almost forgotten, and that, my friends, is spiritualising matter.

How long that process will take to come to some kind of fruition is anyone’s guess, depending, I suspect, on how many of us will resist it, albeit unconsciously, but given the now regular occurence of trips to heaven and back, courtesy of the nde, and that benign invasion of the orbs into our visual field and that of our digital recorders, I would venture sooner rather than later.

I see the term monism was introduced by Chritisan Von Wolff in “Logic” (1728), to “designate types of philosophical thought in which the attempt was made to eliminate the dichotomy of body and mind and explain all phenomena by one unifying principle” and that monism lost popularity due to the emergence of analytic philosophy in the 20th century, and whose chief proponents ridiculed the whole question as “incoherent mysticism”.

Transcendental experience is often incoherent to those who study with a logical and analytical bent.  But to those who surrender to the experience, casting off their safety nets and crutches with glee, that apparent incoherence is transformed.  Transformed beyond a higher level of order into game playing gestures commensurate with giggling.

That’s the cosmic giggle, the one that mocks our strivings and attachments, urging us to sing and let go as we drift in the winds of life.  That’s the crazy wisdom that unhinged teachers teach.  If you meet the Buddha on the road, give him your mirror.