The Remembering

I took on this flesh, this personality in order to struggle against its boundaries and revel in its senses. I put myself in this place-time to be thrown against these experiences, to evolve. To remember. I bring my gifts and my memory of the original song that resonates in each of us. In human form we come together, as we have always been, traveling companions, coworkers, and for each other living embodiments of the love and beauty we come from and are returning to.

We take on human form to bridge the void between potential and being. In projecting an infinite self into so very finite a space, our power is barred, our memory obscured. Over the eons we have learned to moderate between our souls and our personalities so that these limitations are transcended. Our personalities have called this mediation "religious experience," the intrusion of the sacred into the ordinary reality of their finite existence.

Human history is reaching a critical point. This is not the first time that we have had the opportunity to for once and for all integrate Dreaming and Being. These things come in cycles, and each time all the right conditions are present, we enflesh. Our incarnations as instruments, we sound the original song, the Dream-Reality that we yearn to return to.

Each time, the resonance tunes reality, and miracles occur, great evolution takes place. But we have not yet restored the unity of the spirit and the solid. And each failure brings yet another cycle of growth, which is beautiful in itself, but prolongs the pain, gives more time for the Life to bleed out of the worlds.

This time is critical not only because of the ancient spirits so full of memory that have enfleshed here-now, but because of the historical moment. Critical conditions are present because of the reality we have manifested up to now.

From the beginnings of our self-awareness as incarnate beings, humans have known of the spirit and learned to attune themselves to it through shamanism and religion. In recent millenia, one group of humans bravely sacrificed most of their soul-knowledge and magickal abilities in order to develop another form of understanding. Out of the sense of loss, of confusion, and desperate longing for meaning and empowerment, these people developed in a new way. From them came a new view of the world from the senses that they created to compensate for their huge self-imposed loss, a new way of manifesting the world that came out of their helplessness. Great suffering was caused by this new path of development, as these lonely, unnourished beings suffered and inflicted their suffering on others.

But out of this hard journey has come new understanding of the material, finite world. We have extended this knowledge to such a limit that science has brushed the infinite. The lost ones have glimpsed their home, and their yearning is powerful, but dangerous in its ignorance, in the habits that grow out of struggle for power.

We are the synthesis, the Fifth Race hybrid children of magick and science, nature and technology, divinity and humanity. All history has built up to now. All our lives have been in preparation for this time. It is not the end. It is a new beginning. Again.

Take nothing that I say as true unless it resonates with your own soul's memory. It is 3am and my poor human self needs to log off and go to bed.

In the beginning...

In the beginning there was only the light. In the beginning there was only dark. In the beginning the light and the dark were one substance, unmanifest.

And we were the light. And we were the darkness. And all was potential, unspoken, undifferentiated.

And then we changed. Out of the seething nothingness became everything, every possibility expressing itself.

Unity exploded into infinity. Light was torn out of the darkness and the myriad fragments were flung outward, shattered rainbows hurtling through the frigid dark.

We are the fragments, seeking in the cold, blind in the dark but carrying our own light, the light from the original source, the memory of warmth.

We are the shards of rainbows, the manifest dreams of a lonely oneness. For creation was the sundering of Void, and in the ecstasy of becoming entered something not of the dream.

All change is risk. All creation means death. For one thing to be, there must be another. For two things to be, there must be separation. And in the separation is loss.

Loss of energy, loss of memory. A slowing, a cooling. A sad depression, a loss of hope, apathy.

Propelled by the deathforce of our creation, we scatter farther and farther from our source, increasing the distance between us. Our ties to light and life become ever more tenuous.

Scientists call this the heat-death.

It can not win, but it is by no means certain that it will be defeated.

No fragment is ever lost, but with each moment, the pieces must reach across a wider and wider chasm to share and nourish. The elusive memory of joy fills us with yearning for beauty, for each other, for further glimpses of the truth we must return to. We touch across the vast cold between us, sharing the passion and love that fuel us, sharing tingles of memory.

Each of us contains the entirety of the divinity we come from. Each of us resonates to the echo of the original song.

The enemy is the Undreamed, the uninvited intruder into creation. It is emptiness, ignorance, cold. It is the not-life in the fracture of reality. Herein is the key to our victory over the Undreamed, the heat-death.

Set the worlds on fire if they are cold. Fill them with your love if they are empty. Sing out all your knowledge, your passion, your yearning, and the web of remembered truth and beauty will stretch across the long silences and bring us all home.