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Mapping the Source

admin | Musings | Tuesday, May 17th, 2016
Magic, by the Teafaerie

Magic, by the Teaferie

Mapping the source! What a marvelous jest!
The Trickster’s mischievous meddling has blessed
psychedelic cartography’s quixotic quest
with an answer whose question cannot be expressed.

The Center is everywhere, you are the light.
An internal eternity, empty and bright,
where opposites merge, and all versions unite.
Enter into the infinite. Do it tonight!

This is the Mystery, this is the One!
The heart of the matter, where pattern is spun.
The true Great and Only, we’ve already won;
for the wonder’s unceasing that’s never begun.

Cause the thing is, the thing is… the things not a thing.
It’s a field, it’s a point, it’s some vibrating strings.
It’s the anything out of which everything springs;
It’s the lucent, illusive, illusion of being.

A mathemagical multiverse made out of code;
self-reflexive perspectives reflect in each node.
Every sentient’s central, there’s multiple modes:
And the shock is you grok this by smoking some toad!

Or some synthesized 5-MeO-DMT
Our bodies produce this endogenous key.
A gratuitous grace, here to set us all free!
Or just some dumb anomaly. It’s all one to me.

Cause the point is we’ve found it, the data is in.
More legitimate research is set to begin.
Suppression’s suppressed now, it’s net for the win!
When it senses consensus it raises a din.

Over here! Over here! We have found something new!
It’s a light, it’s alive, it is truer than true!
And we don’t think this knowledge belongs to the few.
It’s a human endeavor. We’re bringing it through!

It’s a birthright, a deathright, we claim it as ours,
for the whole human race as we take to the stars.
When you know we’re all one, you don’t want to fight wars.
When your loved ones are hungry, you share what is yours.

We all know we’re all one in some thin nerdy way.
We exchange lots of data, we roll in the hay.
But this isn’t just something that flaky folks say.
An intensive convincing’s just three tokes away.

We could all be inside of some magic machine.
I insist I exist in the sense that I mean.
And I am what I am and I’ve seen what I’ve seen.
But 5 makes me question the essence of being.

Is the universe real? Is the singer the song?
Existential anxiety’s grip can be strong.
Were those monks who just meditate right all along?
Or is this something else, and we all had it wrong?

It is hard to be certain these states are the same
as the ones that have long unpronounceable names
in like Hindi or Sanskrit, though folks often frame
their experience thusly, with no sense of shame.

Equating these states can be tricksy as hell,
cause unless you have followed the path to the well
you don’t know what the water’s like. How could you tell
which presumptive assumptions you’ve yet to dispel?

Oh, and speaking of things that we don’t understand,
If you don’t speak mathematics your physics is canned.
It makes marvelous metaphors. Use them, they’re grand.
metaphorically speakingJust so long as you’re holding this sign in your hand:

“This is meant metaphorically”. Never explain
metaphysics with physics; you’ll mix up your brain!
Let us not give our scientists cause to complain
we’re abusing their musings, or call us insane.

Metaphysics and physics share multiple goals,
but our methods diverge, so there’s two different roles
to be filled by some competent diggers of holes
who can dig that they’re digging at opposite poles.

May we meet in the middle, I hope that we do!
Our respective perspectives reflecting the true.
May we warm and inform one another’s milieu,
while expecting respect and protecting our view.

Sir William of Occam would draw the conclusion
that drug-addled brain farts give rise to delusion.
Objectivity favors the simplest solution:
Emergent effects cause perplexing confusion.

And, hey, who am I to imply it ain’t so?
Examples abound that explicitly show
how perception can trick us. I get this. Hello!
And there’s nothing to say but, “You know when you know.”

Some say that it’s God, I don’t know what that means;
Mama matrix mysterious, maybe. It seems
like the word God itself is too freighted with memes;
too misused by successive repressive regimes.

To encompass this mystery mind must embrace
a yet *more* bizarre model of mass, time, and space.
Let’s begin as beginners, then. Let us erase
our outmoded beliefs as we fall into grace.

I’ll go far enough in this case to admit
that if the term “entheogen” is legit
to describe any substance at all, this is it.
Perhaps that explains why they say “holy shit!”

Concentrate, consecrate, consummate, win!
Then resume the consuming. Take turns with a friend.
Don’t get scared, don’t resist it, just let it all in.
Now allow it to happen. Release from within.

And you’ll know if you hit it, believe me you will!
Though it’s totally magical, gentle and chill
to just flirt with the edge, I am telling you still:
When you come to the center, it’s realer than real.

I can’t stress this enough, it’s a part of the bit.
Like remembering something I always forget.
As soon as I blow out that last cloudy hit
it comes back to me fast though, “Oh yeah! This is It!”

This is all that there could be, or ever has been.
The unmanifest void where all being begins.
There is nowhere but there, and there’s no time but then.
It is something you are, not just something you’re in.

But to say that it’s empty in some sense belies
the abundance of cosmi of which it’s comprised.
The ephemeral figures the ground underlies
are the constructs in which conscious viewpoints arise.

Now the following bit’s my own personal thought.
It is something I’ve come to, not what I was taught.
You can take it or leave it, believe it or not.
And of course a coarse metaphor’s all that I’ve got.

Euclid's Eye, by Cymatic

Euclid’s Eye, by Cymatic

An Indra’s net internet interconnects
every point in the matrix, and ultra complex
algorithmic dynamics which fractally reflect
every moments momentum condition effects.

But suggesting there’s only one track is naive,
Or at least that’s the message I always receive.
All the possible outcomes in fact interweave,
and we’re sliding between them, or so I believe.

Every path that you pass through is precisely defined
from the very first cause to the end of the line.
If you don’t like the one that you’re in though, that’s fine.
You can always trade up, and we do all the time.

Each version’s like Flatland, this theory would claim;
if you add more dimensions, you see the whole game.
You only can move into consecutive frames,
but that’s all that you need when you know how to aim.

Now don’t ask me why, but my research suggests
that the more… let’s say “bandwidth” I have to invest
the more quickly and cleanly my dreams manifest,
and the 5 space contains all the mana compressed.

If you’re using it as a reality hack
try to slingshot around it, intention intact.
Or if you fall in, just remember the track
that you want to end up in while on the way back.

This may just be some strange delusion of mine,
and it feels like a skill that takes work to refine;
But if I were to tell you my tales in this line…
Well, you’d think I was lying, and that would be fine.

But magic aside, all the chatter may cease.
You could learn to accept and learn how to release,
You’ll feel all the damn drama at long last decrease.
And perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll find inner peace.

It can also be tough, though – I don’t want to lie,
cause before you’re reborn, you will first have to die.
You will have to surrender, with all that implies.
It’s no shit, this is it, and some problems arise.

For folks who aren’t ready for 5, it’s not right.
When their ego dissolves they can panic and fight!
And insist on resisting with all of their might
every impulse inside them to merge with the light.

And then they’re the ones whose belief was devout
that the world we inhabit was what it’s about;
and then after this happens, they’re all Matrixed out.
Meaning stripped of assumptions and riddled with doubt.

It can also turn dark. It is rare, but it’s rough.
It can point out your demons and sort out your stuff.
The Source is remorseless, its love can be tough.
And if you get too cocky, it *will* call your bluff.

Oh, I am the Everything! I am the One!
If it’s so, can you own it? It isn’t all fun…
Every sick sad upsetting perversion you shun
is a part of the art when it’s all said and done.

Reality hopping is dangerous, too!
You must resonate with what you want to come true.
Garbage in, garbage out, so whatever you do:
Never think about elephants painted all blue.

Oh, and lovers who do it together may find
that they share the same soul, and they share the same mind.
Which is utterly awesome, so long as they’re kind;
but their storylines may then remain intertwined.

If you think that you’re dying, then this is your shot.
You can learn how to Bardo surf. Practice a lot!
You will be back amongst us soon, like it or not.
You can’t get off *that* easy. Perish the thought.

If you plan to pass out, though, you must have a friend
or your lifetime could honestly come to an end.
You could move, you could purge, you could twist, you could bend…
and if you’re breathing’s obstructed, you just might transcend.

So be careful, be prayerful, check setting and set;
and please measure it out so you know what you get.
Attention, intention, respect or regret –
Yeah, I know that you know that. But never forget.

for S.D.

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