By Dave Oshana & Jasun Horsley
As the above credit line suggests, today’s blogpost is another new departure. It attempts to take one step closer to synthesizing two sensibilities and perspectives, light and dark, enlightened and unenlightened, or perhaps, sensory and cognitive. This week, I have used notes from the last Oshana online event, “Paradise Lost, Eden Regained: The Disassociation and Return of Human Empathy,” as a crystal matrix out of which to grow my own essay. The piece is also a launchpad for the next online live Liminalist meet-up event, probably for Mon 27th April at 1 pm PT, 4 pm ET, 9 pm UK time, and 6 am Tuesday, Oz time. Contact me directly if you are interested.
The nature of the enterprise at Auticulture is to discover and implement new and efficient ways of being. If we are to make it aboard the Starship Enterprise, we must be willing to let our senses boldly go where our cognitive faculties have never gone before. That’s the first job requirement. That is the prime directive.
Agencies of Discord
From a sensory perspective, our bodies are made up of bags of liquid. When we hear sound, it shakes our skulls and massages our brains. People go to rock concerts for an extreme version of what is really the most mundane and constant experience: to hear a voice vibrating inside of us.
What does Hell look like from the outside? This is where all of the mapping has led us. We have been fascinated for months, maybe years, maybe decades, with the contours of our cosmic jail cell, the mind’s conception of infinity that imprisons us. So what about the view from the outside? Are we ready for that?
The nature of trauma-based mind control is to combine extreme shocks to the nervous system with spoken language to reconfigure the neurons within the body, and turn it into a “program”: a carrier for originary trauma-sound waves. This turns us into replicators (and/or replicants) of trauma, reproducing it in and as forms of behavior that are deemed useful to agencies of discord.
There is a large spectrum of sound which the human body in its natural state is capable of receiving. For most of us, this natural state is something we only experience as babies, if then. When we experience some of those wavelengths in tandem with a traumatic experience—pain—we start to associate that “octave” with the trauma, and block it from our awareness. We erect amnesia barriers and our psyche becomes fragmented, giving rise to “alters.”
We become victims of “mind control.”
Yet this perception of fragmentation is itself the perspective of the fragment. The Map of Hell is the territory we call “hell.” Outside of mapping, there is no such thing as Hell; consciousness is by its nature a continuum that cannot be “mapped,” fragmented, or mind-controlled.
We are tricked into self-isolation and lockdown by the idea of a “virus” called original sin.
If as infants or young children we hear a particular tone of voice coming from someone who traumatized us, we will thereafter associate that tone with trauma. Whenever we hear a similar voice, our body goes into a fight-or-flight-or-freeze-or-faint reaction. We dissociate, tune out the voice, and supplant it with our own interior voice to drown out the discordant sound.
This is a way for abusers to fuse their voice with our internal voice and so “possess” us—to install their consciousness, like a viral program, inside us. This is something I became aware had happened to me with my brother: I had internalized his critical voice. Seeing this was the second turning point for me as a writer, with Paper Tiger, followed by “How Am I Not Myself?” (a long piece on Philip K. Dick), and finally, Seen & Not Seen. The first turning point, looking back, was in the period between meeting Dave Oshana and meeting my wife, in early 2008. This was when I was working on “Thru a Fractured Glass, Darkly,” a long analysis of Whitley Strieber. The piece was sparked by the cognitive dissonance of first hearing Strieber’s voice, the discord I felt between his writing and speaking voice.
At the same time, while Strieber’s voice repulsed me, and hence alerted me that something was wrong, it also fascinated me, hypnotized me. I listened to countless hours of Strieber over the subsequent years, as my investigation proceeded, eventually culminating with Prisoner of Infinity. This was not only for research, but because I found his weirdly unnatural, faintly hysterical tone of voice deeply relaxing—something that was and remains a mystery to me. Somehow, though at a conscious level I find Strieber’s voice repellent, my nervous system has positive associations with those particular tones and rhythms.
The Thing We Are Missing
The thing that we are missing is when we lost the treasure.
What if enlightenment is not, as I used to believe, awareness of the vast cosmos out there, but of the smallest, almost infinitesimal impressions of the body, such as the movement of liquid between the vertebrae of the spine? What if I have been seeking in all the wrong places? This is why, when I first met Dave, he did not measure up to my ideas about enlightenment: because I had my own cosmically inflated quasi-experiences of “galactic consciousness,” and Dave was embodying something immeasurably subtler and more grounded, something found in and through the senses, not the mind.
The mind is really the easiest thing to expand, as contrasted with an expanded heart or expanded senses. In fact, these deeper expansions may be even harder to achieve, once the mind has flown off into an imaginary infinity.
Not all experiences are encoded in language. Anyone who has ever tried to write a novel knows that some of the simplest, tiniest movements, of the face and body say, or unique features of a landscape, often refuse to submit to language. Things we experience daily and yet lack the language to describe. These things can take an enormous amount of verbiage, clumsily arranged, to even begin to capture. Even the best novelist depends on the reader’s visualization skills, and looks for simple phrases that will stimulate them, so the reader’s imag-ination does most of the heavy lifting.
This is also how cult indoctrination and “mind control” work. The matrix is generated via a combination of our life force with our sleeping imagination.
Words will not get us into the zone (out of the prison pods). The only thing that will get us into the zone is going back to the early learning and perceptual capacities we had as babies. This is the treasure that was trained out of us. As children, we knew how to make ourselves heavy when we didn’t want to be picked up, or wanted to make the experience more enjoyable. We knew how to be in our bodies and redistribute our consciousness so as to alter our wieldiness, and even our weight.
These are not “siddhis”; this is not sorcery. This is simply a matter of sensory openness that allows us to receive wave forms, a receptivity that determines the quality of our lives. Every particle is also a wave.
When babies are placed away from their mothers after birth, they reach out and find their mothers gone and their bodies go into shock. In a similar way, when we are grieving, we may awake and remember that a loved one is gone forever, and feel that shock of remembrance in our bodies. We are split into two: in one life we are connected to the loved one, as if they are still with us; in another, we feel only their absence.
This kind of dis-integration of consciousness from the life force occurs early, and it leaves us with the perennial unease of knowing we have lost something, yet not knowing where it is or how to find it—or even what we have lost.
So it is that a Map of Hell (the trauma imprint that causes alienation from the senses) becomes a living Hell.
On Facebook, No One Can Hear You Scream
As a child, Dave remembers feeling progressively less and less happy as he grew older, wondering where it would end. I remember the same. I even recall the very moment in which the full weight of existential unhappiness landed on me. It occurred in a moment of intense happiness. I was on my way to Hull fair, filled with excitement, when the realization hit that soon, we would be returning and it would all be over. An awareness of the future destroyed the joy of the present moment. I realized, in that moment, that nothing was real.
As humans, we have undergone a breakdown in empathy. For a baby, empathy means simply connecting to what is good and necessary. The problem appears when something unwholesome happens that causes us to shut down, after which we enter into a world of inner narratives.
It only takes one bad note to create an echo that ripples through our subsequent lives, until we are constantly hearing that same discordant sound. It is like a finger up our butthole that we have tightened the sphincter around so it can’t withdraw itself. But the finger, as they say, is not the moon.
It is—or will be—a shocking moment when we no longer have contact with the body. It is also shocking to consider that moment as an unavoidable one in our future: the moment when we go, boldly or not, into the unknown, where our physical senses can no longer follow.
At the same time, we experience separation from our body when our consciousness is shocked and withdraws from the physical. So here is Blake’s fearful symmetry at work: shock separates consciousness from the body, and the experience of being separated from the body is shocking to consciousness. This potentially creates an exponentially discordant feedback loop of shock and awe.
When human bodies are shocked at early ages, and/or in the womb, it prevents consciousness from entering all the way into the body. Our awareness gets only as far as our heads, creating “people” who live inside a fantasy bubble and who are unable to perceive existence through their senses. The world is now full of bodies that have been shocked into separating from consciousness—or prevented from ever possessing it—all trying to pull others into their isolate fantasy worlds.
These become active agents of influence, and of discord.
Dark & Light & the Babel Effect
As an example of such disembodied head-centrics, uninterested in full-body connections, Dave mentioned some of the commenters at this blog. This has also been my recent experience here, with one or two commenters. Such “heady” commentaries are more common at YouTube, however, such as the following, posted after my recent live talk about life in Hope in the time of covid-19:
Inte Dinensak 1 day ago (edited): Oh, Don’t go towards the light, it’s a trap! He who sits in the dark is the bringer of light. Light is something you bring in, not go towards. And the virus is very much real. It was released on purpose and it was allowed to spread world wide. So it’s not either or, it is both. Armageddon / Yawm al-Qiyāmah might be internal, But the apocalypse is external. The rest I agree with. Brace for impact! The crash has not even happened yet, this is just the beginning of the ushering.
I had to look up the Arabic phrase:
According to Islamic tradition, Yawm al-Qiyāmah (“the Day of Judgement”) is believed to be God’s (Allāh) final assessment of humanity. The sequence of events (according to the most commonly held belief) is the annihilation of all creatures, resurrection of the body, and the judgement of all sentient creatures. It is a time where everyone would be shown his or her deeds and actions with justice.
This “ID” came in headfirst and concepts-waving. When they speak of light and dark, Armageddon and apocalypse, assuming they are not enlightened, they are speaking not experientially but conceptually. They are talking not just with but about words. By light, for example, they don’t mean it literally (I am pretty sure this person doesn’t sit in perpetual darkness and shun the sunlight, though we can’t rule it out entirely). Nor, presumably, do they mean it the way I mean it, in metaphorical human terms, equating with wholeness, health, benevolence, kindness, compassion, love, and life, since I imagine it’s even less likely that they conscientiously avoid these things than that they avoid sunlight. What they mean by “light” and “darkness,” then, is something that has no correspondence in physical reality or in human experience, but is meaningful only as a metaphysical concept.
The basis of their connecting—words that refer only to concepts—is itself disconnected from reality. Even to try and address their points, as I did at first, before I cast my own efforts into the outer darkness of footnotes), is to become lost in a maze of unmeaning. This was also my experience with the commenter at this blog who I rather rudely “banished” recently, like Cain.
Language that refers to concepts is like printed money with no gold behind it—or a tower that aims to reach heaven. It’s a recipe for collapse.
The Pursuit of Memory
For our consciousness to fully incarnate depends on healthy conception, healthy gestation (womb-life), a natural birth, and a loving and nurturing infancy and childhood. It’s safe to say that no one currently alive enjoyed such a smooth entry to this planet. All of us here left much of ourselves behind; and many have arrived here with next to nothing.
The extent to which any of these stages of incarnation are compromised reduces the opening for consciousness to descend through and into form. What we are, as consciousness, gets diminished with each contraction of the nervous system; each narrowing of that perceptual bandwidth shuts down the senses by which we are able to perceive and connect to reality, contracting the musical scale on which our souls can harmonize. The further we are reduced, the more confined we are to the tiny head-space behind our eyes, the greater our sense grows of a lost treasure or garden of earthly delights.
The mind interprets experience always through reference to the old—maps that describe the territory—making everything a repeat of what came before, that we evaluate according to how well it measures up to our expectations and desires. We are constantly trying to get something from existence. Whether by fantasy or reenactment, or both, we are seeking to stir a memory that is locked inside our nervous systems. When we have sex, we conjure image-memories or previous delights and then try to repeat them. Addicts get hooked on drugs because they are a way to return, again and again, to the same feelings and sensations.
Our addiction to second-hand memories of experiences we once had but cannot recreate goes all the way back to the memory of the womb. Being in the womb was as close as most of us ever got to being in conscious harmony with existence while still having a body. Naturally, we are seeking to get back to that lost paradise (even if it wasn’t that great, as in my case): eating comfort food and watching Netflix; getting shitfaced; smoking marijuana; taking heroin or fentanyl; trying to lose ourselves in porn, or in mechanical, compulsive sex. Whatever shuts down our creativity, provides relief from the abyss of the infinite unknown that our senses, once fully open, open onto. The urge to merge with our mother’s body (return to the womb) is the flip side of the death wish. Thanatos, meet Eros.
Am I looking to relive memories, or am I looking to leave all memories behind and enter into an unknown infinity? Can I relinquish the memories that define me? How seriously do I take myself? How much weight is there on the words “I,” “me,” and “mine” when I speak about myself as if I were real? Do I believe it? Do you?
If it sometimes seems that Dave has no interest in affirming things he has said when people repeat them back to him, it is because he has no desire to reward anyone for regurgitating things they have heard in the past. Anything that our minds are saying about ourselves, any belief, is a hypnotic statement. It is a set of sounds, a programmed sequence, an echo of a traumatic affect.
Love Fields & Shit Streams
Psychic fragmentation due to trauma corresponds closely with the dis-integration of the life force within the body, by which our separate parts become “balkanized,” like independent nation states with tightly controlled borders. Since our consciousness never makes it into our bodies, we may never fully recognize this, in ourselves or in others.
What if every part of someone’s body has a mind of its own? What if, when we interact with others, our different body parts are also interacting so that, like Forrest Gump’s chocolate box, we never know who we are going to get? What we are experiencing is discordance: the impossibility of agreement, because no one can even agree on what they believe, because they have no integrity, no coherence, within themselves.
The only solution to this is connection. If we are able to connect to a body’s life force, however little of it there may be, we can amplify it and kick start the soul back into motion. Bringing our consciousness to what a person truly is, brings their consciousness to it also, so they can have a new experience of themselves. This requires us to see past the discordance, past the trauma, to the potential. Love is a field that draws the best of a person out of them.
On the other hand, it also draws their toxins out, since, for a person to be at their best, they have to be clear of all toxins, all discordance. When a body’s love field is working, it draws in whatever that body needs. When it’s not, the person becomes harder to love and they don’t draw in the help they need. They appear as increasingly unlovable. Many of my customers in the thrift store fit this bill, and it often feels like a heroic task for me to love them just enough to allow them to be the way they are, and not chase them away with a broom.
Most humans are shutting down each other’s love fields rather than amplifying them, because the toxins coming off are too overwhelming. The shit of the other that gets stirred up by our attention is too much for us to swallow, so we shut down before the love can start to flow. We end up with nothing but shit, with our eyes and mouths tightly sealed, sitting downstream from a seemingly endless ancestral line of arseholes.
The Final Convergence
Though everyone has, or once had, a love field around them, the more the different parts of our being enter into disharmony, the more the love field around human bodies disintegrates and becomes discordant. This is why, or how, the human race is dying: through the retraction of the human spirit, like how a limb dies and falls off once blood no longer goes to it.
In 2020 we have 7.8 billion bodies, emptied of consciousness, drained of juice. We have people running around that are really programmed automatons, a system running inside the body in place of conscious life force energy. (This is Dave’s enlightened version of what I once attempted to formulate as Aeolus Kephas, in the final Stormy Weather episode in March 2009: “The Sorcerers’ Revelation.” I attempted again recently while talking with Cedomir for The Liminalist.)
What’s the solution? What is required is a mutually incremental process of boldly going where we have not gone before, past our conceptual boundaries, into new and creative ways of being. Others can, and naturally do, follow suit.
What existed before the pain body was the love body. All sickness is the body’s attempt to regain health. If “love is pain” (and “the light is a trap!”), it’s only because nothing hurts so much as a love that’s betrayed, and nothing causes us to shut down our love field so effectively as pain. Hence we have a trauma-based world. Dave has said that his presence makes us aware of our pain; it is that pain that leads us back to the love body, the pain of awakening.
We can’t solve ten thousand years of history-as-nightmare. We can’t redeem endless darkness or map Hell forever. At some point, we have to trust our senses and start moving towards the light of the exit. Can we move collectively forward into a “harmonic convergence” of mutual love and respect? First, all our senses have to be open—this much is non-negotiable—until we have no more discordance within ourselves. The next harmony is between individual souls—neurons in the collective body of humankind. The third convergence is with Nature. The fourth and final convergence is with the Infinite.
To try and skip any of these stages is to try to reconnect to the divine while bypassing our bodies, our interdependency with one another, and our inseparability from Nature. It is to seek an expanded mind while staying out of the unmapped expanses of heart, body, and soul. It means to take the discordant traumatic implant of identity into eternity, and become a prisoner of infinity.
Do we really want to live and languish indefinitely on a dog-eared, coffee-stained old map called hell, when heaven is all around us?
 They are referring to a map (Hell) and not the territory (the Garden). Hence the light is “a trap” and the darkness is the thing to head towards in order to bring light into it. If we were to stay at the head-level of philosophical concepts, I would agree with this person (and such “agreement” is the basis, even the condition, of their connecting), since they are echoing my own views from ten or twenty years ago. And their comment is meaningful in one sense: it underlines why some of my readers or listeners have been suspicions of Dave Oshana and of my turn towards “the light” (enlightenment). They see this new departure as a trap, but what they fail to consider is that the greatest trick of the dwellers of darkness is to convince us that, since fake light has been so widely disseminated, all that resembles light is fake, and that the darkness is where truth is found. They have tricked themselves into dwelling in endless darkness. Funnily enough, in a certain sense, they are right: the light is found in the apparent darkness of the body, where consciousness has not yet gone to. But the juxtapositioning of light and darkness is itself a mental conceptualization of something that, until it becomes experiential, condemns us to the darkness of a hungry arsehole and/or to the fake light of an inflated/expanded ego-mind.
The next online Oshana event is “Access Heaven, Unite Humanity,” on Sunday 26th April.
A Live Liminalist meet-up to delve deeper into the subject matter of today’s blogpost is currently scheduled for Monday 27th. Contact me directly if you are interested. This event will be by donation.