playing with words and visiting the separation-moment

lesson 184: The name of God is my inheritance

We are taught how we made illusion by seemingly fragmenting wholeness and giving it names, and believing in the reality of those names.

W-pI.184.6. This is the sum of the inheritance the world bestows. 2 And everyone who learns to think that it is so accepts the signs and symbols that assert the world is real. 3 It is for this they stand.

W-pI.184.7. Such is the teaching of the world. 2 It is a phase of learning everyone who comes must go through. 3 But the sooner he perceives on what it rests, how questionable are its premises, how doubtful its results, the sooner does he question its effects. 4 Learning that stops with what the world would teach stops short of meaning. 5 In its proper place, it serves but as a starting point from which another kind of learning can begin, a new perception can be gained, and all the arbitrary names the world bestows can be withdrawn as they are raised to doubt.

W-pI.184.9. It would indeed be strange if you were asked to go beyond all symbols of the world, forgetting them forever; yet were asked to take a teaching function. 2 You have need to use the symbols of the world a while. 3 But be you not deceived by them as well. 4 They do not stand for anything at all, and in your practicing it is this thought that will release you from them. 5 They become but means by which you can communicate in ways the world can understand, but which you recognize is not the unity where true communication can be found.

I remember a game I invented with my daughter. When I did not remember the “correct” word for an object, I just chose another. Like this: “please send me the boot” instead of potatoes. She answered in the same mode: “And would you like some freckles with that?” The strange thing was that we mostly understood what we meant.It felt immensely freeing and gave some really good laughs. Now I want to think of the objects around me with different names than the usual we  have given them – just to try to think in  a more flowing way. I choose to say the new words as they present themselves, and just play with it – like this:

This is not a table – it is a book. A book is not a book – it is a friend. A friend is not a friend – it is a smile- A smile is not a smile – it is a longing- A longing is not a longing – it is a veranda. A veranda is not a veranda – it is a handkerchief. A handkerchief is not a handkerchief – it is a nebula. – And a nebula is really a table, if I look at it more closely…

Now, this took me to a state of mind where I remembered a time where I saw the essence of everything. I was standing outside my former house, looking at the apple trees in front of me. I had not slept in a week – its true! and I had drugged myself with Valium and Nitrazepan, and I still could not sleep. Now I was shown that the essence in the trees was the same as in everything else – my sneakers, the fence, the sky – and that it just took different shapes. Those shapes were not solid at all – it looked like dancing vibrating spheres. It was like a playful shape that  Existence – or Joy- took, to explore and have fun and adore Being. Absolutely no fragmentation at all. It was simplicity, and no names at all could describe it, so excuse my attempts to do so.

As I sit and do the lesson now, I am brought back to the reason for my ongoing sleeplessness. I had attended a Primal retreat, and we had group-session where 90 people lay around on the floor in the huge room and cried and screamed as they regressed, while therapists were tiptoeing around to their patients, helping. When my therapist came to me, she said she thought that the state I was in was not good for me, and took me out of the group. And that night was my first sleepless one.

Thinking back, it dawns on me that that primal group was an apt symbol for the primal fear and original shock the Son of God felt when believing in the TMI. From Love to pure hell and all-consuming terror. I saw that “sleep” for me would mean to sink into the deep unconscious level that  I had touched there in group, where all kinds of collective pain were floating around – so sleep became equated with unconsciousness and hell. Which is a good description of the world, right?

Latest this morning I had a nightmare  where what seemed as a holy mountain lost a piece of it stone which almost hit me. It felt like God attacking – so it is still the same theme that seeks a new perception from me.

No wonder that fear of sleeping is still there. But I give this perception and the memory to the H.S and ask for correction.

The first I hear is that this is how convincing and real it feels to believe in a story and call it “humanity’s.” And that believing in all the names and concepts we do here, in our ever-expanding urge to fragment more and more,lulls us ever deeper into a deep sleep. What we think is being awake, is sleep -and the sleep that I am scared of, is just a phantom I have placed between reality and me – the last barrier to Love.

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Please note that nothing written here is intended as medical advice. Readers who think that they need help with a physical or psychological condition are advised to seek a qualified opinion.

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