What on earth is this? Still, I’ve written it. Might as well publish it………

 

Crossing the Infinities

All dead beings eventually find life again. That’s how it works.

You can’t evade it. No matter how much you may wish to attain non-existence (and many do, many crave it; they look with horror on the prospect of not having an end) it is an impossibility to not exist. It simply can’t be done.

The state of non-existence, a state which by definition cannot exist, is associated with a self-negating infinite potential which causes you to be material in an infinite number of points in space and time.

So you have an infinity of existences across infinite time.

Your intuition tells you that this must be so. It also tells you that this is impossible.

So you doubt. You do well to doubt. Always doubt.

But then consider the evidence.

It may be helpful to imagine the soul – for our purposes, a particle of consciousness – as being a drifting or fluctuating quantum somehow captured by an organism in its earliest stages of growth and development.

On their own, the neural structures of a developing brain could give rise to a computer-like mechanism capable of processing information, but it would be devoid of anything like awareness.

But if a particle of consciousness is captured, or occupies the same tiny part of space as the first cells of the embryonic brain, it becomes housed somewhere within the brain’s structures, and a mind forms around it, something otherwise materially identical to the aforementioned computer-like mechanism, but now with the additional property of being self-witnessing, and partially capable of controlling the neural processes that constitute the mind it has seeded into being.

It may be helpful to imagine all of this. Many of our clients at Recovery find it helpful.

That does not mean it’s true, but it may be. And it’s a useful conceptual model to deal with the phenomena we encounter. Plus, we have found no evidence that it’s not true.

The fact is that we have no understanding at the most fundamental level of what brings about consciousness.

We don’t even know if it’s brought about at all. Perhaps consciousness is ‘just there’ in the same sense that, say, quarks or strings or whatever are (as far as we know) just there.

Anyway, what we suspect at Recovery is that soul clothes itself in mind, a phenomenon brought about by the interaction of neural networks and the soul itself. Because the mind is to some extent capable of influencing and guiding the electrochemical processes of the neural networks, it moulds and matures itself for as long as it exists within the organism.

The mind of a microorganism does not experience much change between birth and death. It is too simple for that. Yet the particle of consciousness housed within it is (we think) qualitatively the same as one housed within a human being. What distinguishes them is the sophistication of the mind that can form around the soul when it is captured.

The mind of a sentient being, quite clearly, changes immensely during a lifetime.

Then death occurs. The mind disintegrates, and quickly ceases to exist. The soul, that speck of awareness, is released, adrift, lacking thought, perception, memory.

Yet (and here is the miracle; here is what we at Recovery actually do believe) somehow the mind patterns itself within the soul. Because it’s all retrievable. The memories, the feelings, the desires and perceptions can all be retrieved. You can recover your past existences in full.

Some even believe you can also recover your future existences, but this has yet to be proven.

It’s possible, believe me. Possible but very difficult. It took me years to learn how, to be guided slowly and carefully back through the layers of my mind until I reached my pure soul, and then learn how to perceive the internal structures and layers of the soul.

(This contradicts the idea of the soul being a particle, I know.)

Recovery is the name of our organisation, and the word has multiple meanings for us. We are a non-profit group and seek only to help like-minded people.

What we do is not right for everyone, but a small percentage of the population experiences a yearning that we understand and can help them to satisfy.

My first sense that recovery was working was a vivid flash of image and sound. I was standing in a large arena with thousands of people very much like members of the species we belong to in this world. Bipedal, ten fingers, two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, and so on. All very similar.

It was a sporting event. In the middle was a rectangular space carpeted by green grass. One of the teams wore green, and the other red.

This shocked me to the core because I knew it was no hallucination. This was a real memory. And more than a memory. In that instant I was there.

That other world is much like ours, but not ours. It is very, very far away. I cannot say how far in space, nor how distant in time, or even if that idea has any meaning. In the fullest sense of the word Cosmos, can past and future be any different in essence? Trillions, quadrillions of years distant that world might be in either direction, or it might be right beside us in some parallel or looped causality stream.

Anyway, that was my first image. A game in a stadium.

More followed over the weeks and months. I entered a very strange phase of my life during which, I am ashamed to confess, I neglected family and friends, and lived off meagre savings. I was not living a life of great virtue, but I wanted to recover this entire other existence.  Finally, with the help of my wise guides, I did. I recovered that life.

To me now, that life is as real as this one. That is my other identity. I have in fact become a different person, a merging of the two lifetimes. My mind, and hence my soul, has been moulded twice by that life.

The other world orbits a yellow star. It’s a water planet like this one.

Nothing is unlikely in the Cosmos.

Five years ago a man came to Recovery seeking help. He was a soul much like many others who come to us, settled in his normal life but unable to ignore a nagging at the back of his mind that there was something that had to be sought out, something calling to him from dark depths.

So we helped him.

It emerged that the proximate iteration of his soul, the one he was recovering, was a contemporary of mine. He spoke the language to me that I knew in that life – English. He was from the same time as me, the same nation, the same culture.

The day he made a full breakthrough into that life, he forgot his present self.

“Cowen and the Greens,” he said. “And the fucking bankers.”

I too forgot myself.

“It was obvious it was a bubble,” I answered.

“Obvious after the fact,” he said, which annoyed me.

I knew a bit about the economics of the economic collapse. I’d taken the trouble to study the issues, and I could tell that this man almost certainly had not.

“No, I mean not everyone thought the bubble would keep inflating forever.”

“Well, ” he said, “you should have told someone, buddy, if you knew what was going to happen.”

This annoyed me even more.

“I’ll tell ye,” he went on, “if it wasn’t for Cowen and the Greens and that fucking bank guarantee – ”

I interrupted, wanting to annoy him back.

“It was actually Bertie and McCreevy. They’re planted the seeds of the collapse. Cowen was just – ”

“Bertie and McCreevy did a lot for Ireland. Things were going fine when Bertie was in charge. McCreevy always used to sort out the public finances after the election. He wasn’t reckless.”

“You’re wrong there,” I said.

I meant to continue, but something shifted in my head and my eyes found a different focus. I was back to myself. My current self.

He must have seen this happen in me. His eyes found the same focus.

He was back to himself and so was I.

He gave me a grimace of embarrassment and we walked away from each other. We have avoided each other ever since.

Our souls had crossed the infinities and defeated impossibility to meet in the here and now.

I suppose it’s a soul-moulding insight in its own right to realise that they needn’t have bothered.

 

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