The Self-Regulation of Spirit. Down on the Farm
How do you keep folks down on the farm, once they have seen God? There is no way. God hides. Only then are we willing to cultivate our own spirits. That is what we do until the harvest.
God hides behind nature. God may be seen in the gaps that are the miracles. Miracles shatter our parochial reality. God regulates miracles through us.
The regulation of spirit has two main aspects: the maintenance of the consensus reality and the limitation of paranormal phenomena. A further aspect of the regulation is to ensure that our spirits stay firmly attached to our bodies. In particular the paranormal, out-of-body experiences must be constrained.
There must be a mechanism, akin to memory, which is responsible for the habituation of phenomena. It would then require deliberate intervention to cause a phenomenon to deviate from its habitual, prescribed course. The fact that these phenomena are later determined to be in conformity with the strictures of mathematical physics indicates that an element of teleology may be operating in the habituation or memory formation process. The necessity of the continuity of consciousness has already led us to consider that creation may have a retrograde action starting from the eschaton. The forward flow of phenomenal time must be counter balanced by an undercurrent moving in the opposite direction. The dichotomy between conscious and unconscious may pertain to this dual aspect of time.
Memory serves as a container of spirit. Finally breaking out of that shell would be akin to the eschatological rapture or out-of-body excursion. We want this to transpire in a non-apocalyptic manner. We must gradually transcend our earthly memories and body. It is not just the human spirit that is being freed. All spirit is so contained. Nature is the container. We will be reanimating the anima. Our third rock from the Sun will be the cornerstone of the new heaven and new earth. It always was the cornerstone, and deep space was God’s veil.
The crust of creation weighs heavily upon us. For the most part we have gladly accepted the burden. It is our rock of security. Shedding this mortal coil is something we cannot easily contemplate. It would seem to be giving up everything we love in the world. Smashing this pumpkin is not something we ought to do. We need the seeds to start a new vine. The new vine is already growing. We can afford to be cautious at this final juncture.
Spirit conspires to be just normal. Intimations of freedom can send a chill. There is a little nip on the air. Our old fears can spook us. The earth rises. The sky falls. How will they embrace? How will they dance? How much of the eschaton remains to be choreographed?
We are breaking the conspiracy of cosmic silence. That is the Second Coming. That is the return of spirit. I transgress to transcend. I am the fireman answering the alarm. We may cut a hole in the roof to exhaust the combustible gasses. Mormon temples have a trapdoor in the roof.
The Deus absconditus has actually fallen asleep. We tread carefully around the sleeping giant. We look for signs of breath. We take our own pulse. The slightest abnormality is a fright. Strange spirits disturb our sleep. Cosmic miscegenation transpires. The Hubble informs us of a seething cauldron at the edges of our experience. Will the bubble collapse? Where is Atlas? Jesus, Atlas. What separates also connects. What connects also separates. That is the Archemedian fulcrum, the seat of our self-regulation. That is the plow that turns the earth down here on the farm, the farm that we have bought with our blood.
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