The Myth of Matter

Dotted around The Warren are bits of paper with words hurriedly scrawled on them. They are in books, behind plants, in my make-up bag, on the mantlepiece and all sorts of other places-though not yet in the food cupboard or the fridge. I’m not that dotty. Yet.

Sometimes the scrawl is just a shopping list, quickly discarded into the recycling basket but sometimes the words make my heart skip a beat. Like the ones that surfaced this morning, for example.  “If ever there was a word that has been polluted by time, it is the word God. It describes a power that is both digital and fractal and is within each of us at this moment. If you ever wonder what’s going on in the world today, look no further than the utilisation and the understanding of the digital and the fractal. For the power of which I speak is both of these and we are growing closer every day.” I have no recollection of writing these words or any idea where they might have come from. I suspect from the slightly clumsy wording that they are ‘my own’, or at least they came through me. When this happens, it is usually for a reason. Something to do with my spiritual development; my connection with the numinous, my desire to connect with you.

We live within a bleak, secular, existential world view in the West. Religions have lost their symbolic power and fundamentalism has developed as the final thrashing of an almost spent force. Death is seen as a nothingness and there is an absence of the idea of salvation in all we see around us. Mircea Eliade points out that the creators and keepers of the new mythology of matter are scientists. In their adventures in exploring the magical topography of life, the scientists have much in common with the shaman. But their investigations of matter do not take us into the collective unconscious , the creative matrix of all there is and will ever be. What is missing from the new mythology is the transcendent, sacred mode of being. No wonder that depression is so rife. What is the point without connection? Living trapped in historical time , we have lost what our ancesters had to comfort them in a world more physically difficult than the world that most of us live in today. What they had was a physical connection with the unity of the Cosmos. What we are encouraged to have is a physical connection with the shopping mall.

I refuse to live like this. I live in a world I have created out of gossamer and hope and what ifs. It is with poetry and philosophy that I create a warp and weft. Within it I weave a world in which we humans each have to make a decision. Is it to be the X factor and the world according to Cowell? Or is it to be according to the will of the Tao, a human weaving of divine possibilities? A digital, fractal vision of worlds within worlds and the possibility of a new and deeper sublimity, if only we can grow enough to realise it? With every moment that passes we are collectively deciding. Everything that happens on the surface comes from a place we do not yet understand. Even so we are responsible. Is it to be death and nothingness? Or sacred and everlasting bliss? You choose.


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