At some point in this inner journey, at some stage in the shifting of poses that present themselves as personalities in the play-acting of our incarnational dramas, maybe even now as we turn to acknowledge that fly on our dinner plate or that lying skunk on the tv screen, we suddenly see the illusion of it all, and our foolishness in believing that the dream was somehow real.  The bubble that you took for granted has burst.

     The shock can amuse us or throw us for a loop, depending on our mood of the moment.  Bemused chuckles or a belief system crash.  Either way, we have shifted sideways and can see our lives as charming puppets, playfully dangled from a dimension above by some being of spirit we may call ‘soul’.

     We already know we arrived from elsewhere, by way of fetus, womb and birth, into a world others trained us to understand:  behaviours and parameters, actions, reactions, freedoms and restrictions.  Understanding something of our source, if not all of its particulars, we know we are learning from all those bumps and bruises, and we have arrived at a stage where those bruises are welcomed as badges of progress, as signs of accomplishment.  We are moving along a timeline, which, even if it only leads to another timeline, retains a sense of direction and a feeling of purpose.  We are growing towards a greater understanding: our place in this mysterious multiverse, even if it is only a niche on some ledge from which we shall have to leap into more unknowns.

     Do we need this assurance of position and purpose, do we require the security of some mission unfolding?  I would say Yes, we do, as it gives us some balance in these wobbly uncertainties that characterize the drift from the solid, reliable physical to the shifting sands of the astral and mental, where all is malleable, made and remade to the whims and breezes of the moment.  It certainly gives us the quiet confidence to relay that balance to others, who may be more than shaky in their resolve.

     Can we advance from our partial understanding of our place in the mysteries, this planet with its myriads of sentient beings, its humans and angels, its elementals and masters, its living and dead, to something more complete, something which relieves us of the stupidity of ignorance, of saying maybe this, maybe that or maybe something else, and allows us more than a glimpse of the real state of affairs?  Again I would say yes.

     That Higher Self, that Source Self or Monad we’ve all heard of and would like to know more of, that is our link to the enigma of consciousness, that is the key to the lock on our door.  Once opened, though revelation or meditation, sudden insight or sustained surrender, this source can show us how we are in fact, it.  Not merely the puppet but also the puppet master.  We are that spark from the divine fire, but we are also the fire.  That we are exploring the depths of dark sluggish matter in order to lighten its load, and that playfulness and gaiety will give it the lift it’s looking for.  That we, as Monads, helped to create this many leveled mystery in the first place, to challenge ourselves with a trickier maze than ever before, one that would take millennia to move through, casting out, quite callously, the many failed experiments along the way, that we might gnaw on the bones and absorb the energy of their tragedies for some ultimate graduation that will only leave us grinning at the sneaky brilliance of our plans.

     Oh, how clever we were to fool ourselves with all that struggle and suffering, civilization and savagery, ignorance and knowledge, oppression and freedom, heavens and hells, arguments and agreements, and now here we are, all polished diamonds ready to sparkle and show the way!