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CGI's Morgan: The Shrink Wrapped Shelf Zombies and the Apple in the Garden

Posted By: Susoni
Date: Friday, 15-Jul-2016 12:11:29

From CGI's Morgan:

Greetings dear friends. Perhaps I should consider an apology for the last Petri Dish. I know there are people out there who sigh and say, “I wish he wouldn't ride off into the ditch by the side of the road every now and again. It spoils the contrived image I have of him.” The thing is that I do these occasional digressions on purpose and to keep in perspective the truth that I am a work in progress and that I labor under a big burlap bag of shortcomings and I wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about me. I certainly try not to have the wrong idea about myself. I have watched many a train wreck over the years and while also perusing historical records of train wrecks, I have discovered that every time someone doesn't keep a weather eye out for the appearance of their own bombast and feverish moments of self importance, they get into trouble. Only through unqualified devotion does one come to an understanding of the true relationship between the one and the other; should there be a one and the other. Most any dog has more devotion and genuine love than we can claim heir to. So where does that leave you?

Love is a clean sharp sword to the heart
and it cuts to the quick silent center
And God alone knows cause only God goes
and we are the path that he's making.

It's important to manifest out of all the varieties of your being, so as not to deceive others about the idiosyncrasies and limitations of one's nature. I try not to become the sort of person who gazes off into invisible space with a faraway distant look of wisdom in their eyes... I seek to have an element of Coyote in my persona. You can hide what you are on first encounter and so long as that encounter does not progress into recurrences of contact, you might get away with it. Otherwise, time and circumstance will inevitably bring forth what you really are and you don't want to turn into ♫a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction, taking every wrong direction on your lonely way back home♫

The objective here is to combine honesty and inspiration on a palette of lyricism and paint the moment of being without subjective editorial hanky panky because...; it would be nice to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

We've tried to use humor in these blogs a few times and failed miserably. Every day I crack up my friend, who winds up holding the sides of the rib and saying “please stop, I'm going to have a heart attack!” However, when I come to the blogs, no one laughs. Sometimes anonymous will scream at me like he did yesterday. For some reason ...and according to mysteries beyond my ken, he has a thing for Ruth Bader/Meinhoff Ginzburg and got really pissed off that I was less than kind to her; keeping in mind that she has been radically less than kind to the rest of us. When I say that people come to resemble what they are, she would be the epic example. I take no real pleasure in banging on certain personalities but everywhere I go, people are unconscious of what is happening to them and the who that is behind it. It's not like some large percentage of the world tunes in to these blogs every day but everyone we touch touches someone else who touches someone else and it doesn't matter which of us are the source of the motivation to touch because all motivation comes like every other permutation of force does... from the same sun that draws it's own power from the invisible sun, which is the seat of consciousness from which all consciousness, at every level of expression, draws its ability to be conscious.

There is a critical impetus that justifies the pursuit of friendship with the divine, above all other interests and concerns and that is the possibility of the divine being hosted within your being, due to the divine being inclined toward that end. Once the divine is hosted within, there are no limits to the potential for expression in ANY form or focus and no limit to the results that can be obtained thereby. Without the ineffable, you have nothing of any lasting value and very little even of temporary value because without the supreme enjoyer being the one engaged in the enjoyment, there is no fulfillment or completion that can be achieved, except in some tawdry and forgettable dream state. It's like having sex with a hooker. You're not going to get what you are paying for, unless your sensitivity is expressed in insensitivity and as for Love, there is no there there. You might as well expect to encounter an ox that does ballet and quotes Shakespeare. Of course you are still dealing with a facsimile of human but the essence cannot define itself in a business transaction. You might as well cut a hole in a trampoline; at least then you are controlling both sides of the action.

Last night I did not sleep. This was the second time this week. There was such a state of alertness that sleep was in no position to assume the position. I found myself saying, over and over, “Lord, I love you,” and that would turn into a monologue, wherein I expressed all the reasons and rationale for my saying, “Lord, I love you.” I explained why it was that I was compelled to say this and the monologue turned into a dialogue, where 'the beloved' responded in kind and the whole dynamic moved from one plane of communication and understanding to another and another and another. This experience of staying up all night has happened so many times over recent years that I hardly notice the lack of sleep. At some point I find myself telling myself that I am one of the luckiest men in the world, simply because I am inspired to repeat myself in my ardor, over and over and over. There are many who would dismiss this as having no concrete return upon the investment of time but... there is a return past all telling. There is a joy that cannot be communicated to the clerk mind; to the paunchy midget that is the dictator within which creates the automatic fealty to all the dictators without; that Cromwell of the ego who brooks no competition with itself. It is that hungry bear who tramples the sensitive side of our being and makes us brutish and devoid of the graceful art of enduring control over the beast within.

I have not learned much. I have not understood as much as I should have understood, otherwise I would not repeat the same mistakes again and again, albeit with a great deal less attrition than was once the case. It seems like that might be the point, that the suffering decreases over the reach of time and the joy increases over the reach of time. It this is happening then you are on the right track. If it is not, you are on the wrong track. As complicated as many would like to make it, it is not complicated. It is quite simple. It is made complicated to conceal all those personal agendas that attempt to play both sides to different ends and anything less than a full commitment to either is going to result in failure; “So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth.” You have to be all in. You have to be utterly good or utterly evil, in order to go beyond them and in only one case is that realized. In one direction awaits an ever greater density and bondage. In the other there lies an ever greater widening of space and of liberation. A time will come when the ineffable will say to you, “good and evil no longer apply to you. You have passed beyond them.”

If all I am ever able to achieve is to be able to lay in my bed and say, “Lord, I love you.”, I will consider my life a rousing, a thundering, an unqualified success. Any other accomplishment is a shrink wrapped shelf zombie and the fruit of applied self deception. You're back to the apple in the garden. It is similar to innocence lost. Innocence must be lost or there is no drama that results to manifest all the situations and landscapes that is the everlasting movie of Paradise Lost. Surely innocence must be lost. It is the essential plot of the game of back and forth. However, innocence must be regenerated and that is the triumph of the self, in all the glory of it's recognition between the self and its reflection. “You must become as a little child.”

Lord... I love you.” This is said with a certitude; a 'blessed assurance' as the song proclaims. It possesses a resonance that expresses itself in your every thought word and deed. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” I love you, Lord and... I don't care if that goes on all night and all of the next day and for every day for as long as eternity might endure. To me that is the penultimate of the highest possibility that one can aspire to or accomplish... ever. There is no greater state that I can imagine. It is what the angels say each day as they spiral out of the sun, over and over across the endless turning of the Earth. It is what they say as they carry out their duties and confirm their commitment. It is the ever resounding echo of what makes them angels to begin with and the lack of which accounts for all of the ones who have fallen but... who are themselves merely characters in a drama. God loves us all with equal force. We do not all equally love god with the same measure. It is in the power and conviction of that response where we express the level of our intensity and whereby the almighty is permitted to respond in greater kind, though the love is as great as it is in every case. It is the degree of our awareness that accounts for what comes to us. It is our vulnerability, reliance and surrender to it that determines and identifies our station.

So... maybe I shouldn't have written that posting but... I did. With less frequency these moments come and with ever greater frequency the joy concentrates and expands. May you sooner rather than later find yourself saying, “Lord, I love you,” and meaning it with more and more sincerity and conviction until those beautiful tears come to water and nourish the heart, which is no longer a desert. So many creations now flower and flourish. In time, Eden will surround you.

http://www.visibleorigami.com/2016/07/the-shrink-wrapped-shelf-zombies-and.html





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