The IWALLK Essays - 2. Upon the Eve of Uncertainty

I was born three months, three weeks, and three days after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., on a hot Sunday in July of 1968.

My very earliest memory is of standing in my parents' bedroom while they slept and watching the sun come up over the trees across the driveway. Apparently, I had gotten out of my little bed on my own. I probably had done it a bunch of times before around that age of five, but this time there was something special about this morning—special enough to allow its memory to last right up to this day. I literally heard the melody for “Down by the Station” dance in the air around my parents' room as the Yarmouth train whistle tooted in the distance. The magic mind of a child.

From then on, the noises of my small town became the soundtrack of my childhood. Each night there was the far away but constant moaning cry of the highway. Even in the 1970's that road was turning into a major artery, running through the town, and along with the cargo trains, it supplied us, and the whole DownEast coast of Maine north of us, with everything that kept the state growing into the mature and important New England hub it is today.

These memories from childhood are centermost in my mind as I pass through the contorting hours of an evening that feels like my own personal Gethsemane, here emotionally naked and figuratively lying prostrate on the ground; before the hardest thing I have ever faced takes place. 

Nursery rhymes fill my mind. Then I hear the whispers of past girlfriends; the singing of past bandmates; the joys of parties and festivals; the solemn goodbyes to departed friends; the long lasting heartbreaks along with the fleeting echoes of brief triumphs... 

Here with my eyes closed, they all pass through me like a parade crossing over from another street that came from nowhere and is headed back there. 

In my heart I ride my bike again around the innocent streets of my old neighborhood, buy candy at Frosty's, explore the intricate tidal marshes and sweet-smelling wood trails of the Bayview Street peninsula. My young heart is still there, somewhere inside my old one. 

In the last few weeks I have been learning to separate myself from the world that I've so blithely taken for granted and wallked so far across. I have instead become more aware of the epochs and phenomena involved within the ages that passed by our solar system long before there was an earth or any kind of life crawling out of its protected, warm, shallow-water bays. These ancient images (which have nothing to do with any kind of reincarnation) are brought forth and donated to my consciousness by the generosity (or perhaps charity?) of the Spark at this time—like a gift, from the places and times from whence it once participated. They are far too foggy for me to clearly observe and far too complex for my simple human mind to comprehend, yet. Still, I sit as a witness, awed by Universe events more profound than any that have ever taken place on this planet, as if preparing...for something...just to come. 

The Spark (which is NOT God, nor is it a person, but rather a perfect entity that wants desperately to spiritually fuse with its human host—me, thereby attaining personhood, and by reciprocation, share all of its past eternal experience) tells me that it had already experienced the full lifetimes of several material, human-animal beings on other worlds well-before it's indwelling of my mind. Perhaps it arrived during that first bright morning memory, as I stood by my snoring parents, announced by a train whistle. 

The Sparks – for each of us possesses one – plan out our lives for us long before we are born. They trace our genealogy and well-understand our ancestral lines, as their someday-hosts. They encompass the masterful calculus of all of our possible, but somewhat limited, future, free-will decisions—good and evil. Although they have probably never been on this particular world before, they descend into our minds, holding the vast knowledge about all past eternity. They do not make mistakes. That is up to us.

For the many of us who – through spiritual insight – have been shown these kinds of things about ourselves in one way or another (no matter what terminology we might use to describe it), the temptation is to assume that the Spark looks out at the world through our eyes. 

But a bit of further contemplation eventually reveals that it is the opposite way around. ALL that we see in the world around us is the mixed presentational melody of our personal Spark as we see through it, combined with the Sparks of the people who participate in our life songs, and completed by the collective consciousness of the grand symphony of all other minds (human and otherwise) in our world—from the insects, even up through the countless orders of non-material and spirit beings who share our Cosmos. There is no other outside world. It is ONE thing.

The most surprising thing I have glimpsed of late (something I never suspected until being so close to the potential reality of my own death), is that – in cooperation with the Spark's original plans for me – I have literally co-created this world, with the Spark. Not just my world, but THE world—even all the starry realms above and around the world. For, I am already fused with the Spark somewhere in the future. I am remembering myself as an earthling. Funny huh?

Amazingly, each of us has done this, and is doing this right now for ourselves! Our lives are just as happy, desperate, painful, and hopeful as we personally need them to be, in order to achieve oneness with our Sparks. 

I have found that so many of the things I prayed for as a child have happened in the world (despite the apparently very recent global setbacks that are currently driving us all crazy), besides just having them happen in my personal life. There are SO many, in fact, that I can no longer write them off as a coincidence. Yes, the influence of other minds has made an effect as well, and the over-mind of collective consciousness has laid down the parameters that my single will, alone, cannot override, it will take all of our efforts. Yet, this is MY world and YOURS, created by consciously or unconsciously aligning our Wills with the Spark's plan for human evolution. And now I have verified it (at least for myself) within the future memory of my own Soul.

Somehow, the Spark (with my own superconscious agreement) ordered up a life that was to be so challenging and difficult as to forge a hardened spiritual steel, enduring enough to build an indestructible and eternal self-identity (my Soul). 

I barely made it through to the halfway mark of the standard human lifetime and now have the wonderful gift of anticipating the clearest of points; one where I might actually be liberated from the animal flesh I have used as a life vehicle. In this way, I am confident that I have built a Soul that will be able to survive as a non-material, solid energy manifestation, fully prepared for a new existence and all the adventures that will entail.

Some folks cannot stand the idea that there are ever-higher levels of adventure above this one, and I can honestly relate. They will say that I'm wrong and there is no new beginning. And, that is okay! I am not sure what this limitation means for them—from the perspective of the cosmology I have described above. However, thankfully, it is not for me to say, nor to judge, in the same way that I must avoid the temptation of finding their premature judgement of my belief system to be brutish and primitive. 

We must all make leaps of faith. Everlasting ascension and experiential perfection is one leap. And materialist humanism is another leap. There is no difference in the act of leaping, only in the destination it leads to.

If there is no overlying meaning to our living existence, then it seems to me that there is nothing frightening at all about the sweet, brown, if suffocating, peace of death and thence dying nonexistence. It is simply the allowance for ZERO. Materialism is a real comfort for millions of people in the drowsy, lowering of the light at the end of the life movie—satisfying and perfect, I suppose, in its own way.

When I become New and prove to myself that the future was meant to include me, will you join me there? Could it be here on earth? Could it be as a team in the next existence? I genuinely think it is a simple yes or no decision. Maybe you can see from my experience just how necessary YOU are to OUR New beginning? Maybe not.

I'm done writing the song of life on this very night. And I have finally come to peace with its imperfections. Only the time lag makes me like Schrodinger's cat, a super-positional, quantum waveform in space time—both alive and dead in your future observation of me by late tomorrow afternoon. 

I choose to believe that because I can surmise such a situation at all—knowing full well that time is an illusion, I WILL indeed live, whether you continue to see me here or not.

So, it is with exceeding happiness and confidence that I attempt to heal this broken heart! 

I do very much surrender myself entirely to my destiny whatever it may be, and submit my Soul to the final Will of the Infinite Parents who once cast the Sparks out into the darkness of experiential time and space. 

One of those Sparks now has my eternal promise to merge with it and become a New Being. I will also complete the promise I made to my friends here.

I will wear my Soul on the outside. 

And if it is okay with the Creator to wake up back in the flesh, it will be as a new kind man, one who has been allowed to reenter the world with a final and sanctioned mission.

Then, I believe, something separate but very special, will soon arrive to help us wake up our whole world...

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LOVE is the Light of the Spark