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Posts Tagged ‘pattern’

flawed creation

Azathrial and Marchus

It is said that the great witch Azathrial lived a thousand years or more and never knew true love until she accidentally broke the seal that bound the White Demon Marchus in his infinite prison, setting him free.

Marchus, not fooled by her many cloaks of illusion,  saw her True Self and chose to bind himself to her forever. Azathrial, perhaps recognizing a kindred spirit, allowed it.

Thus, at the end of her life, Azathrial remembered the final piece of her own personal puzzle and turned into light, joining the pantheon of stars in the night sky. Marchus, relieved of his demon form at long last, joined her.

They are up there still, two binary stars forever caught in a dance with the other. Azathrial and Marchus would not have had it any other way.

*****

Azathrial yelped in pain and shook her hands free of the matrix of power she had been building.

“Ah, Lady, are you surprised that they resist you, you who seem intent on undoing ten thousand years of human magics?”

“Why can they not be reasonable?” she asked petulantly, sucking on one particularly scorched finger.

“They fear your power but more so, they fear you because you cannot be seduced away from your quest to set the world to rights. Do you even remember why you do what you do?”

Azathrial frowned, thinking. Marchus waited. She always said the most amazing things after that look left her face.

Azathrial pulled the finger from her mouth and looked up at Marchus where he floated near the ceiling like a rogue helium balloon.

“It is silly. You will laugh,” she said.

“I would never laugh at you,” Marchus said, meaning it.

“I asked why?”

“Why?” Marchus said blankly. “Why what?”

“Hmmm,” she said distractedly, nibbling on a fingernail. Marchus thought she would stay silent, her explanation done, but eventually she met his eyes again. “This body had a human family once. Long ago.”

“I assumed as much,” Marchus nodded, “though you never speak of them.”

“Oh, they are long dead and I have lost track of their descendants. Truth be told, they forgot I existed long before they died, a thing I heartily encouraged.”

“This is why you do not like to be loved?”

“Oh, no. But I will not regale you with the folly of my many love affairs. The carnage of those times is best left forgotten. No. When I was born, this last time, I was not like other babies. I walked through the Veil whole and complete, with the memories of a thousand lifetimes, not all of them human, already tucked safely in the back of my mind. I chose my family not because they would nurture me, but because I needed them to keep me safe, keep me hidden, and to leave me in peace long enough for my body to reach adulthood. I got what I wished for. They ignored me completely.”

“I am sorry,” Marchus said. “We do not have to talk about this if it is too painful.”

Azathrail laughed. “Oh, pray, to not be sad for me, my love. It was a happy time, the memories of which I will always treasure. I was a wild child. I wore whatever happened to be at hand and half the time I never had shoes. Most days you could find me crouched in the creek bottom studying everything that caught my fancy from bugs to birds to bunny rabbits. My pockets were always full of arrow heads and fossils and seed pods. The clouds in the sky were my castles, the farm dogs my knights in shining armor, the cows my fire breathing dragons with which I did battle. I would sit for hours dissecting the scat of owls and foxes to find the tiny bones of the field mice they had eaten for dinner so that I might lay them out like an intricate puzzle. And when I had worn myself out, I would lay in the high grass and watch the hawks mate in mid-flight or listen to the meadowlark sing. Nothing escaped my notice.

Marchus sank down to her eye level, watching her face as she spoke.

“But surely you had to go inside eventually. What of the den in which your wild child slept?” he asked gently.

“I learned stillness out in the meadows. If you hold the silence of the universe inside your head, the birds will light upon you fingers, thinking you a bush. That skill held me in good stead in my parent’s house. I was invisible. This allowed me to be an observer of the minutia of the human condition, my family being my study subjects, the microcosm that was meant to  mirror the macro. I came to the conclusion early on that my parents were broken. Utterly and irreparably broken. This tragedy did not touch me, whole as I was, but it destroyed my siblings, each in their own way.”

“Broken? How so?” Marchus asked, trying hard not to feel sad for her.

“They could not love their children or each other because they could not love themselves. It surprised me, this self loathing because it was not logical.”

Marchus laughed. “Logic? They offended your sense of order?”

“You said you would not laugh at me,” Azathrial pouted.

Marchus pressed his beautiful demon lips together but the corners of his eyes still crinkled with his amusement.

“Forgive me, Lady. Please continue.”

“Logic governs all things, don’t you see? Cycles return to the beginning. Circles within circles. Chickens have eggs from which more chickens rise. Plants make seeds that make more plants. Moons orbit planets, planets orbit sun, suns orbit the massive black hole in the center of the galaxy, galaxies are caught up in the branches of the Dark Tree that connects all of space and time. Out in the meadows and cow pastures, all life lived in harmony with this pattern. But in my parents house, there was a fatal wobble in everyone’s orbit that would eventually lead to disintegration and dissolution. I did not have a family, I had a machine tearing itself apart with the forces of its very nature.

“So you began to question the nature of existence?”

“Oh, god no,” Azathrial said, amused. “I thought my family a collection of freaks. A statistical anomaly. I bided my time and left at the first opportunity and never looked back.”

Marchus looked confused. “What did your family have to do with your question then? Were they not the inspiration of the big Why?”

“It is a very long story but I will cut to the end. It became very apparent, after years of observation, that my family was not a statistical anomaly at all, but was in fact, the norm. All of humanity had the same flaw, the same wobble, the same penchant for self loathing. Despite having all the best intentions, despite having the most brilliant of inspirations, despite having an infinite amount of motivation, humans could not get anything right, ever. It was if there was a crack in the foundation of the world that was throwing all that was built upon it slightly out of whack.”

“Ah,” Marcus nodded. “Truly, this would be the big Why. Your quest is to discover the source of the wobble.”

“Oh, no, my dearest love. That became very apparent almost at once. I asked the question and the universe laid the answer at my feet.”

“So what is your quest then?” Marchus asked, confused.

“The Why of it opened the door and let the dreaded genie out of the bottle,” she said, shaking her head ruefully.

“There is a genie? You did not tell me you had another demon at your beck and call,” Marchus said, sounding hurt.

“That was a joke, Marchus. There is no genie. Or perhaps there is. I am the genie.”

“You are no genie,” Marchus said fervently. “I have met many of these demons and they are all quite vile creatures.”

Azathrial leaned over and kissed Marchus on the tip of his nose.

“No, my sweet. I am me which means I am a very complicated thing. I cannot leave any puzzle unsolved nor can I leave a mess for others to clean up, when I am the only one who can perceive its nature. The Why revealed the What which revealed the How. Now I am doomed.”

“Doomed? Never. I will save you.”

“Can you save me from myself? The length and breadth of the flaw in creation has been laid at me feet, thus revealing the nature of my quest.”

“Surely you do not mean to fix creation?” Marchus said in dismay.

“Of course I do.”

“But that is impossible,” cried Marchus.

“Why?”

“Because … ” Marchus shook his head. “Because it just is. No one has ever done it.”

“Perhaps no one has ever tried,” Azathrial said reasonably.

Marchus stared at her, at a loss for words. When you said it like that, it almost sounded sane.

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Embrace the Chaos.  As advice goes, it seems to be counter intuitive. Perhaps we need to explore the ineffable paradox that lies at its core.

On the one hand, this connotes the seemingly foolhardy act of leaping off a cliff into what appears to be an elemental cataract that will surely rip you limb from limb. Embrace your own death, it seems to imply. Do you need to be suicidal or insanely brave to follow this advice? Every gut instinct, every genetically hardwired response, every lesson learned upon the plains of the human landscape where you were pooped out of your mother’s womb ready to run from the lions that had the smell of your birth up their noses tells you that you have to fight, you have to be clever,  you have to be proactive about your own survival. Letting go of all that seems not only silly but down right stupid.

But…

On the other hand, every time you let go (OK, let’s be honest. We don’t willing let go. It usually takes someone standing on the edge of the cliff, beating on our fingers with a blunt object to work our claws out of the lip of the Void), every time we fall into the chaos and learn to cope with the apparently dissonant energies that reach out to rip the fabric of reality from our grasps, every time we fall and survive, every time we walk out of the cataract that tried to eat us,  cheating death and somehow managing to imposing our own order onto our new realities instead of the other way around, when we pause to look back we discover that what we thought as Chaos was really a very well ordered pattern, a pattern that we only can perceive in retrospect and those who played it safe in order to survive, did not survive after all and it was only those who risked everything who won the game.

So, no, embracing the chaos is not an invitation to suicide. It is not for people with a death wish. It is the act of total trust based on the unalterable belief that all that we know and all that we can only guess at and all that exists beyond the limits of even our wildest imaginings is a part of something infinite and well ordered and that that something is in the act of reinventing itself from moment to moment and that if you expect to survive, you have to keep up.  Sorta like dancing on quicksand. You will be fine as long as you don’t stop to rest. Is this not the true definition of life on Planet Earth?

Embrace the Chaos

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There is a vacuum in modern education. If we have made the left brain into the sole focus of our educational process, then the left frontal cortex is the rock star. Conversely, the right brain has become the retarded second cousin we keep locked up in the attic: throw it a bone once in a while to keep it alive, try to ignore the weird howling noises in the middle of the night, and  pretend with all your might that it does not exist when the neighbors come to visit.

When we do talk about the process of the right brain, it is hard not to fall into the language of the occult and the arcane, for the simple reason that we have ignored our retarded little second cousin for so long, the only language, the only words that exist that can even approximately describe its processes rise from our more primitive and superstitious past.

It is only now, as we begin to understand the mathematics of quantum space and time, that we begin to realize that the seemingly disjointed and ofttimes insane babble coming from the attic was in fact the learned instruction of our Uber Einstein brain, a brain that exists not only in the attic but beyond any physical wall, touching all of space/time. With it, we can turn corners into other dimensions. We can communally share information with all other lifeforms. With just a thought, we can remember all the knowledge that has ever existed and that will ever exist, being limited only by the sophistication of our ever evolving consciousness.

Call this vast extension of the right brain the Uber Library. The first trick to accessing information in this library is not to get overwhelmed by the amount of information that exists there. Do not be fooled by the apparent chaos. All things, even this, have a pattern and a direction, a point and a purpose. The second step is to understand that you already have the tools to navigate here. You just have forgotten how to use them. You were born fully connected to the Uber Library, after all.

Consider how we problem solve with the left brain. Here we find the seat of our perception of Time. A leads to B leads to C, D, E, F, G on down the line until we reach Z. If we were to solve a problem, exclusively using our left brain, we would start at A, form a hypothesis and then investigate that hypothesis, step by step until those steps led us to a conclusion. If we are lucky, that conclusion solves the original problem. Unfortunately, odds are good that the conclusion will have only told you that your original hypothesis is wrong and that you failed to ask the right question at the very beginning of your long and tedious study.

Now, let’s problem solve using our right brain. Here is the seat of our perception of infinite space. Imagine deep space. No atmosphere or gravity wells to hinder motion. Imagine that you stand at point A. All around you, in no particular order, lies a cloud of infinite possibilities, call them B through Z. A is not a problem to be solved. A is the point of existence. A just “is”. To get to point Z, one then merely lets go of all preconceived notions, imagines the existence of Z, thus establishing a link between point A and point Z and simply goes there. Free of constraints, the space between point A and point Z folds to accommodate that wish. Ta da! Problem solved.

The hardest part about the right brain problem solving process is convincing your left brain that the answer is correct. The left brain will still want to investigate all the possibilities of B through Y but the most difficult part of the process has already been done: Knowing the correct answer, one merely reverse engineers the issue to arrive at the right question.

A whole mind, a holistic mind is the perfect balance of left brain and right brain thinking.

Having a holistic mind is part of our acquired skills in the evolutionary arms race of survival. Think of it this way. Our left brain, diamond faceted, linearly logical, and clear sighted,  gives us the ability to perceive change as action or motion along a vector. Unfortunately, there are an infinite number of vectors to choose from. That is where our right brain steps in. It acts as our internal compass by pointing us in the right direction, thereby assuring that all decisions are the correct decisions, and no motion is wasted. As an added bonus it also assures us that every action is in harmony with the OnePattern since it is the OnePattern that allows us to perceive order in chaos.

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