The cosmic vision is the ability to be situated far above the earthly matter, far in the infinite of the spheres. As soon as one rises sufficiently, the little quarrels, pettiness, worries, haunting, all the whims of the ego disappear. We only see unity. The cosmic point of view is unifying. Is the cosmos at peace?
When one rises enough, the most complicated questions are no more. The most thorny cases of consciousness are soluble. Serenity reigns forever. Question: why stay low?
Two men looked by the bars of their prison. One saw mud, the other saw stars. (Idries Shah)
The cosmic point of view is a position of the assemblage point located in the zone of immediate knowledge or infused science. It is an area of clear awareness where all information received is immediately intelligible. As soon as they are interpreted, all questions are answered at the very moment they are asked. Access is open to all information, on all topics.
This state of consciousness is very close to the cosmic point of view. Let’s say that the latter seems to be a variant of the immediate knowledge that I have just described. As soon as we move away from our planet, only the natural boundaries remain. The others are at the time, the whims of men. Dashed borders only exist on maps. Should we burn the cards? No, it’s enough to abolish borders. This process is underway. Patience.
The astral point of view is the best approximation from the cosmic point of view. The wizard can access it instantly, without equipment, without budget, without risking death. In astral, we see this world from afar. From far away. But in astral, know it, there is neither space nor time. You can not see anything at all. We can still wonder if the astral vision is real.
I do not ask myself that kind of question. The nature of reality is so contested by scientists, philosophers and truth seekers. I see what is this “on”? let me see. If a change of perspective allows me to see more things, or to see them differently, I jump at the chance. This explains the craze for drugs. Visions search. Increased awareness search. Looking for pleasure, because any increase in consciousness is a source of pleasure. Maybe the only source.
The immediate consciousness and the cosmic point of view are two very close positions of the assemblage point. They are located in the heart of a vast area of our brightness — Castaneda’s name for the aura. This area is a few centimeters behind our left shoulder blade. In the same direction, but a little further outside our brightness, is our death. During our life, death follows us in the limit of the aura, behind our back, on the left. The warrior is aware of this sometimes, in the most serious situations. To know how to locate one’s death is a useful precision for the warrior who is ready to take it for advice.
The astral, the flight of the warrior, the art of dreaming, the quest for vision are positions of the assemblage point, zones of consciousness. Maybe the same? There are always so many labels for a bottle! Civilizations and eras especially have the art of complicating what is simple. The art of forgetting. There was a time when I chose the motto “Je me souviens”.I remember Because all the little details of my past life came to life as soon as I moved the time slider.
Je Me Souviens
I remember. I am 17 years old. This Monday of December, dull and dirty, the night fell with the rain as in Brest remember Barbara, but here it is in Paris, in my native Passy that I cherish and I hate. Standing at the foot of an opulent building, I watch for the love of my young life, Câline, whose illuminated window tells me that she is not yet sleeping. I composed a song for her that never knew anything about it.
Against the silent wall To listen to the fall Of the rain in a ball Around the mall
Goes out your window light I have nothing at sight But my city I like All through the night
Where are the passer-by? The crowdy streets I knew? Just Mozart Avenue To say goodbye
Against the silent wall To listen to the fall Of the rain in a ball Around the wall
Since that night, Câline, I watch over your sleep as if you were my very little girl, a precious infant whose care I have.
I remember. Erquy, the beach of Bourg. I am 13 years old. On the dune, a dory is returned, hull in the air. I’m sitting on the fishing boat. Marie-Lierre sits by my side. His big black eyes devour me, soon it will be his mouth with the taste of raspberry.
An apple fell from the apple tree
On the beach a wave was bursting
Think of St. John’s Night
If daytime shorten in the fall
It lengthen in the spring
In winter when the days are too short
Think of St. John’s Night
I remember. I remember all of them as if they were experiencing our encounters again. And I rise above the landscape, above the world, above my life. And I climb again, little point of consciousness in galactic infinity. I’m a star-picker and I meet Petite Marie with her little voice and her little fancies. No Francis on the horizon. I remember. In the galactic center, I’m a black hole unblocker with my hedgehog and my old black soot hat. I sand so I wipe.
The cosmic point of view is unifying. Is the cosmos at peace? I wish you to gain control of your dreams, you will instantly gain double the time of conscious life. All those nights we waste by not remembering them! Tragic kali yuga, terrible end of the era of Pisces, sticky, glaucous as the sea depths, where we lack air, living space, life in short!
Dream control comes with all the wonders of awakening, there is no particular effort, in any case it is my experience. It suffices for a discipline which is that of the warrior, and of some preparatory exercises. Carlos Castaneda seems to have experienced years of hardship to achieve this, but it should be noted that in the practice of nagualism there is never question of awakening and the gifts that result. Which is surprising to say the least …
The cosmic point of view is much simpler to have when one has the control of the astral, that is to say when one practices the conscious dream, which I prefer to call the controlled dream, and that Castaneda calls simply to dream. This is the path I followed to get there – but I’m sure there are others. First, I diligently practiced the alpha waves, noticeable shift of the assembly point, until the fluidity is perfect. When this mechanism is well oiled, I applied it to my daily life: it is the Middle Way.
During my nocturnal walks, I visited many worlds, much more than I remember. I fought many dragons, defeated many knights of Eon, laughed in many channels, dawdled in many garrets and muse in many musettes. I wore the Portes du Temps, walked in the Marche of Brittany at the time of the three fairies Nil, girlfriends of idle kings. I drank the mist of the winds, in long strokes in the Source of the Worlds. I visited Venus, the Moon, Aldebaran. I knew fortunes. I came close to nothingness. I lived double life, double play, double time. The astral is my garden. I’m going when I come back.
These fascinating worlds, ineffable sensations, there is no time and space is unstable. Absent most often. Immaterial meetings. Charnels however. Life is a ride you have to ride in it. To stay on the edge we only learn hatred. Life is an elegant arpeggio, dressed in beige silk at the Three Merchants’ Bar.
By the way, I had a lot of fun. A youth devoted to art, to travel around the earth, to love and love. Maturity and old age dedicated to art, to astral or temporal journeys, delicious immobile journeys, and to another great love. Hallucinating inner journey by way of the senses. Decency.
I was born, yes, but when? The times are rolling, the plan is unfolding, the future is coming and my boat is sinking. Where are you Marie-Lierre? You must be grandmother. Or dead?
To the child who advances to the Land of Inside I dedicate this song
Suffering gets a start at the very first tooth It’s already in
Comrades of the Azure, you invisible friends Do pray for him
Do support his efforts Illuminate his nights Let him be in
Sad ? No. Nostalgic ? Not even. Why regret what we can relive indefinitely? Let us celebrate and give thanks. Each of our micro-lives remains forever etched in the web of Time. Let us pray. Enjoy. Gloat.