The Mind as a Stargate

The human mind is a stargate.  In fact, it is probably the only real stargate there is.  We don’t realize that because from the time we become aware as children, we are told that we live in a tiny box called earth.  Within that tiny box the mind inhabits another even tinier box called the human body.  From these two boxes, there can be no escape but death, which is not really an escape from the box, but the moment the mind and its personality enters an eternal oblivion.   Many people actually believe this and some of them have the audacity to call me a buzzkill.

I used to believe what people told me.  I believed my brain held my personality and kept it within the confines of my skull. I thought my heart is what kept everything alive. My soul was some nebulous thing that also existed. I just wasn’t sure where it was located.  The problem I had, of course, is that throughout my life I had been receiving messages and subtle clues from people that were not like me.  These people didn’t seem to always use bodies or to live by the same rules that I did.  Some of these clues were unimaginably terrifying, but perhaps only because I was so grounded to the world I was told to believe in, a world whose reality has begun to fall away to some extent.

Part of my problem was that I was a a devotee of my own anger and resentment.  I used these as far as I could take them as an outlet to work through the dross I had both made through my own actions as well as what I inherited from my family lines.   The more I was able to pull down the veil of my inward imperfections and shortcoming, the more the light was beginning to shine through.  First as a tiny glimmer and then as a blazing sun.

What I witnessed did not terrify me, but for the first time allowed a clean break with the well-ordered world I had belonged to and believed in for so long.  The old world was a world of laws and scientific explanations.  In that world both meaning and mystique were crowded out by endless explanations that sapped the meaning out of things.  Wonder was becoming eroded by unsatisfying ideas, each one new and innovative, yet wholly dead.  If we couldn’t see, hear, touch, taste, or smell a thing it didn’t exist.  The newly elected priests of the modern world explained everything away with science.  The  sun, moon, and stars had no significance.  They were dead celestial bodies floating in space.   Everything had an explanation, and if it didn’t have one somebody somewhere was hard at work on one. The modern world, sadly, has travelled an outward path away from what is real and therefore science becomes increasingly superficial.  Instead of giving fulfilling answers, it can only give us explanations that may or may not be true.

While the intellect taken to its logical conclusion can deliver a person to the door of the real, it cannot nudge them through it.  There comes a point where reason and intellection become a curse that anchors one to the world of death’s reign.  If the imagination does not take over, the journey dies utterly.  But it is not enough to merely imagine, one must literally exit the unreal by entering the doorway that has always remained open for us. The difficulty of that feat depends on how much we have come to believe in the world we were told to believe in.   Ultimately, the depths of the mind must be plumbed to the point of finality, which is really the beginning point of the real world.

To open that door to the real world, the reasoning mind must be kept absolutely still, it must put the world as we believe it to death. This doesn’t come with effort, but rather in the absence of effort.  It doesn’t come by struggling to create landscapes and characters in the mind.  It arrives, strangely, when the mind no longer puts forth any effort whatsoever.  In a word, the mind literally surrenders any idea of knowledge upon realizing that the real world doesn’t require wisdom or knowledge, but spontaneity and being.  It must simply become what it was before it was forged by the experiences of life, both good and bad.  The ”reality” we see everyday is only one part of a much greater world that is unseen, but always present in the eternal now.

This world beyond is really the world we live in right now, minus the box we attempt to place it in.  Death, no matter how you look at it, removes that box exposing us to the real world.  Those that seek to keep that box in place, the box that leads to all pain and suffering, experience the worst of the postmortem states.  They attempt to retain the piece because they cannot face the whole truth of what they are.  For that reason alone a kind of pseudo-physical world is often entered upon death.  I have seen it many times, I have spoken to those living there, and I have seen strange things that could not possibly come from me or the use of my imagination alone.  These postmortem worlds run the gamut of ugliness and beauty.

“At some point I found that even though I was a single piece, a veritable illusion, that stars were growing in my mind.  Slowly my identity was expanding into a completion that had no further need of growth or evolution.  This is who I really was.  I was becoming all while still remaining “me.”  This was death and I was very happy.  This was a happiness I had never known in life. ”