The mystical practice is… a practice.
It takes work.
By that I mean, the mystical path is a constant and alternately harrowing, alienating, hilarious and deeply moving application of faith.
It is work that necessarily, eventually, means entering into a kind of schizophrenia which is the hallmark of a breach of the consensual reality (ie the Cave). Once you do that, and you survive it, you’re really on your own.
There are no more systems or gurus or philosophies.
When I try to explain my understanding of ‘reality’ as something that is not static, or deterministic… but sentient and conscious and awakened… I always get people telling me stuff like this: (from an exchange with a good friend last night)
People need to frame it that way because: to actively take on board the idea that the Earth is ensouled…
[by which I mean: ‘coded’ with a layer of mystical User Interface that allows the seeker to access a ‘hidden’ realm of experience and insight, which are as observable and deciperable as the state of microgravity in space… and for them to accept that these observable factors have very practical value for overcoming the oppressive system that dominates our spacetime reality]
…would require them to change much of their way of seeing, if not their way of living.
As much as the people in Copernicus’ time were forced to revise theirs. But most people are neither prepared, nor have the tools, to authentically do that. So it gets put back on the mystic seeker… that this is just their ‘experience’. Subjective, nonsensical, non-valuable.
So eventually you stop caring whether people ‘get it’ or not. And beautifully, this is just another stage of the mystical journey out of the Cave. You need to not fucking care at all what the others think.
And the degree to which you no longer have the desire to stand up in front of people and tell them about your spiritual journey and how meaningful it is… is proportionate to the distance which you are down that hallowed path toward ‘awakening’. It’s one of the first tests the masters put their students through, to assess just where they are on Jacob’s Ladder.
One of the most rewarding and yet also isolating stages of the journey are the materialization of non-binary reality-shifting experiences (ie not those which are the result of psychedelics or medicines). These typically result from the performance of ‘daring’ actions that force the material realm (which is assumed to be non-sentient, non-awake) to blink and shift for us.
Once you experience that, there’s no coming back.
You’re now beyond ‘theory’. Beyond ;’philosophy.’ Beyond ‘religion’. This is the realm of spiritual adventurism. Which, despite its name, is a very practical observational thing.
No different than space or underwater exploration.
Here the initiate comes to know and see forces and factors that exert themselves in the environmental texture of that ‘place’ – ie the stage of their conscious awakening – even though it is not discoverable on any current map of the world.
And those very same forces and factors exhibit a systemic infrastructure that can be talked about precisely.
And which are remarkably, and starkly, beyond the acceptable, conventional. discussable parameters of the system-norms of ‘reality’ that most people think is:
(and nothing but the the truth)
There is one experience, specifically, which elaborates this kind of reality-shift that I can share:
I won’t go too deep into here because it needs far more contextualization (in terms of how I got to the place – geographically, psychologically, and spiritually) to really understand it as part of my story.
So I’ll just say here that in 1998, I embarked on an aimless but spirit-directed hitch-hiking journey that had taken me from the woods of British Columbia down to the frontier of McAllen Texas where I jumped on a few planes and ended up in Cuba. After hitching down the spine of that deeply evocative landscape and its children-of-Martí populace, I ran out of money and clothes.
Guided, finally and mercifully, to the Sierra Maestre where I heard ‘voices’ that challenged me to truly honor my belief in the brotherhood of man…
Put as simply as I can: for one ‘person’ to be born in one place where they can not leave the island and another to be ‘born’ into another place where they can travel the world freely, is a crime against the soul of humanity. It is a dividing edict that is the antithesis of an authentically spiritual order. It is the law of a system that places humans in a caste system of the most pernicious and arbitrary degree and leaves them to fight it out between themselves within the illusion of a plane that is finite and deterministic.
I knew this even at that young age. I knew it and I believed it. So, to benefit from the identity document that I was given merely because of the GPS co-odinate of my birth, and to move like some gilded giraffe around the world as I had (I think my country count was over 50 at that point) was simply wrong.
So I heard the voices say.
So I destroyed all of those things. Meaning I tore my passport up with my teeth and dirty fingers until it was in shreds and disintegrated into the bushes and trees. And then attacked my credit cards and drivers license until there was nothing left. All at a time when you could not go to the bathroom in Cuba without showing your papers.
I happened to do that at a time when I also had spent all my money, was cut off from my family and friends, and had given most of my clothes away.
Well, that journey out of the mountains, into the cities, and back to Canada, as I will one day explain… was the most amazing and horrifying and revelatory thing I have ever experienced.
Mind shatteringly difficult on a psychological level…
(I remember with the most vivid emotions my desire to cut out that part of my bicameral brain that had instructed me to so gallantly and foolishly to destroy my identity and expose my self to the most mind-bending of outcomes)
…and very ‘hard’ physically.
But also one in which I witnessed the world blink at me and my action, suddenly materializing in front of me a hero’s journey that might as well have been constructed from yellow bricks and emerald facets. Each person who I encountered – now crazed and barefoot and free of all my terrestrial identity – came before me as a savior and a prophet. Every river and every tree and every star… became a signaling object conjured by the spirit of the depths her self. In short, my soul ejected itself from my body and projected itself onto the entire fabric of ‘reality’, turning the Cuban cities and her humble but proud people into caretakers of a theme park of my soul’s journey.
The things I saw. The truths I was told. The secrets that were revealed. Have taken me 20 years to understand. And they are the very nectar of a (r)evolutionary consciousness that places the power of reality-creation within each of us. For we are not living on some dead rock of a planet in which one’s fate is determined by gender, color, name, or zip code of birth or otherwise.
Nor that ‘magic’ is only to be experienced in a book or via some practiced illusion… or because you are part of the 3%.
What I know now, as the mystics before me for millennia have known since ‘time’ began, is that
we are the generators of our reality
But we have become locked into a system which denies that power at its fundamental algorithmic level by asserting in every narrative and counter-narrative that prevails that we are dependent on the external, material world and its most loyal ambassadors for our lives and our dreams.
And we have bought into that. And so, all of our creative energy is harnessed in the support of that lie/
And so we have created a world in which our power is actively disabled.