Aims to be ostensibly less dirty than The Red Book by Jung. Yet inspired by it also.
Links:
1
That blue properties might be the opposite of the property of blue (another example: sublime blue the opposite of blue sublime): categoric system the opposite of system category: 'broken' in the analytic.
Singular the index of vertical relation. Independent the index of alternate correlation.
This suggests, however, that we cannot see beyond our abstracted 'shoe-shapes'.
A possibility is that receptiveness is the opposite of realization: receptiveness being receptiveness to realization, and realization being the ultimate receptiveness.
This is a frustrating duality, but it seems to say the key to nothing is everything, and the key to everything nothing.
Yet, what is between them?
You see, a texture which is one part maximization extends itself through derivation. Needless to say, the texture which begins by derivation, extends itself through maximization. Thus we get everything and nothing, as textures.
It is a strange rule, which says that we must add something in proportion to the 'way it is explained'...
In this way, unity is achieved, like the shapes of the continents, a mixture of correlation and relation.
2
The aperture is the world, and what we find with it.
Just like the aperture is the 'thing' which we call whatever it is.
Out of the 'thing' comes the idea of the world, but out of the 'world' comes whatever.
The dualisma of whatever-it-is (like texture, or color) and the apertura of sensesation is the or a realization of the sensation of unity, or a gestalt.
Yet the concept gestalt is death, if we do not understand it, or if we do not know its exact 'ego'.
Out of the fuming darkness is the strangeness of this 'sense'.
An emptiness abides in the complex and the simple.
The obviousness of intelligence in all mindful things.
The sensesation of the pride with the business of the world.
We open our eyes to this pride, and it's permutations. We live with it's fiber.
In this we know our ego. An empty unity, a flavor of space. A passing of time. A magic vine.
3
We have questions which chip at the contour of the world. Timelessly, like a glass of water.
These questions may change us, equally we respond with a feeling of newness.
This is a threshold of nothingness, yet surrounding it is a territory of supreme imagination.
Outside the polished mirror lies texture and color. Inside the mirror is the newness.
This is the birth of something like the world or the imagination.
We can imagine thought, like a bird, floating somewhere in this mirror-sky.
Symbols are like symbols here, but terrible is not as terrible.
So, the average transformation takes place when we call it transformation.
The mystery is but a name, a name without mystery. There is mystery yet.
We usually find a tree which reflects our desire.
It is up to us to find it's meaning.
Over time, it may lose it's promise.
The world has many touchstones, which are much like the tree.
We may find meaning, or a barking dog.
The goal of life is forgiveness.
But anything we attain, we must keep traveling.
We gather pieces of the One Tree, but we rarely find it's meaning.
When we find it, we often lose it.
There are many Natures, but they are passing.
In this I do not profess wisdom.
4
So we know, but we do not Know (as that).
We must forgive the unforgivable.
We must eat what cannot be bitten.
The shape of things that come before and after.
We must cast our seeds through the nets of impossibility.
The dangerous song of 'a new sense'.
The treasured throne of the alchemist.
5
Emergence. The focal concept at any level.
The spitting dragon.
The loose stone, the diatonic sound.
Opening the ends.
...
6
Paradise is possibly solved by arcologies on the principle of over-unity. The old problem was merely guilt over authenticity.
Tractatus of Lifetimes
No comments:
Post a Comment