What of the Immanent Will and its designs?
It works unconsciously as heretofore,
External artistries in circumstance.
Fallen-estate, 3D consciousness is a self-reinforcing momentum. Is phantom generation is more difficult to stop than a Mack Truck or the Queen Mary. But, here’s your Real wakeup call: Engaging spiritual enlightenment doesn’t involve stopping fallen-estate momenta.
In fact, setting those artifacts up as stuff to be stopped brings them yet again to birth. You can let them die of their own accord simply by starving them. You have only to turn your back on them to nourish the divinely evolving One, instead.
Embracing alchemical ignorance of phantom life is Tibetan Radical Dzogchen’s bottom line. Every single moment opens upon an opportunity to face the infinite music: of Your Living Causal Body spheres of light. Exclusively realizing your mistaken identity’s white fire cores amounts to an omnipresent All-Seeing-Eye opening awakening from the incremental fallen estate slumber. Just this once, take that other Paul’s advice: and let it BE.
Surf the NOW cascade, hanging ten or a million phantoms, as consciousness shoots Ma’s girly, curly wave effulgence in and as the light’s ever-new birth. Ascend to Radical Dzogchen’s stepping-stone, which flicks the light switch on. Fell light’s radiant pressure creatively emanating Your Real imagery. BE the Self-urging provenance of infinite mystery. Be the One’s immanence.
The goal of Life is to unceasingly Be in and as the One, engaging Life’s instants as the Self-urging provenance of infinite mystery. Yes, yes, yes. The whole shebang IS, solely to urge Selfhood as opportunity for the One to realize Joy.
All intellectual and other sorts of formative impression deepens and refines consciousness’s color palette so long as consciousness founds its Selfhood upon infinite mystery. But, lacking Being’s primary, infinite ontology, each day in the life takes a step backward, gravely arranging tombstones in the fallen estate’s sentient cemetery. On the other hand, living immanently enhances Beauty: the Bright Energy of Alpha United To You. The “bright energy of Alpha” focuses Father God’s I AM Presence as universally empowering will. “United to you” focuses Mother God’s divinely Loving caress enjoying Your Selfhood I AM THAT I AM.
Activating Your Living Selfhood
Self-realization is a foregone conclusion. Living radiantly, immanently, activates Your infinite Individuality. It translates Your Causal Body engrams into cascading I AM THAT I AM kisses. Momentarily pronouncing God’s Name produces SUCH a smacker as to alert all Your cosmic friends that You’re ALIVE on Earth, and they’re all invited to this instant’s potluck supper. All parties to Your cascading, momentary meal complement the dish with their unique ingredients. Indeed, as in Arlo Guthrie’s song “Alice’s Restaurant,” “You can get anything you want at Alice’s—the divine feminine’s—restaurant.”
As an unwitting messenger, Guthrie describes in his song the foibles of ignorant humans bumbling about in the fallen estate. The song rambles and rambles on for over eighteen minutes, kinda like Bob Dylan’s “Talkin’ World War III Blues,” in which he counters the fallen estate’s mealy-mouthed separatism, which abrogates divine Love, with the line, “I’ll let you be in my dreams if you’ll let me be in yours.” Guthrie’s song also points up the irascible distance that ignorant humans put between themselves and divine Love.
In Guthrie’s entertaining, humorous ditty, he relates the story of he and his friend illegally depositing trash down a hill some distance from the town dump because it was closed for Thanksgiving. They were arrested the next day for littering.
That symbolism refers to each of us ignorantly engaging the separative, cell-begotten, 3D fallen estate. At that irresponsible level, consciousness dumps its detritus continually, and karmic law demands that such lackadaisical losers pay the self-storage price. Every moment that you trudge the Via Dolorosa, you must pay the fallen estate for using the relative world as your dumping ground. How much better it is to Live immanently Scot-free, leaving nothing behind to litter your mailbox with bills.