It can seem otherworldly or extraordinary to communicate in silence or with “less conscious” living things, or even with objects perceived as inanimate. And yet, what seems supernatural is in reality a return to the natural—the result of tuning into a specific carrier wave that exists in all things. It can be overwhelming to realize our entire lives are a conversation and everyone and everything is in communication. In fact, it is a stage of “turning on” our consciousness that opens the mind to hearing these communications.
There is suddenly no tuning the world out. As we awaken, we realize everything around us has been awake all along.
We realize our loneliness and isolation is a result of blocking out the abundance of love and attention happening below the surface. We may be humbled to realize the ignored and dismissed have always been there, waiting for our ability to perceive them. The scarcity mind sees scarcity, but when it’s allowed to perceive even the slightest bit more, it becomes clear it has focused so narrowly it has missed the profusion of life all around it. We have simply been closed off, operating with too small and too reactive an aperture to take it all in.
The alternative is living in a world where our fate is sealed by the blind and deaf who only know how to enforce the construct of sets and subsets where belonging to one set means you must necessarily also agree to belong to a corresponding subset. The most challenging step is the first: to allow for the possibility of a world alive and animated within this world.
It’s an entire nonverbal language we can become fluent in, and requires—more than a learning—a lack of denial, because it’s already always happening.
We have trained the rational mind to override these feelings or have allowed the din of daily life and internal narrative to play over them. Yet we still sense there is something that knows. As we begin to tune into and nurture it, our attention and belief will allow it to emerge.
Be prepared for the flood. It can occur as a sensory overload. It can be something like a climax in consciousness and appear as a psychological break. There is the sense of simply too much information flooding in, and the boundaries between things—good and bad, right and wrong, real and not real—dissolve. We may be challenged to find our bearings here.
With proper procedures, such an experience self-resolves, but it is a challenging initiation.
Many freeze in this place and are considered “crazy,” or they medicate for life, or they turn back to the appearance-based life, grasping for some semblance of control.
Everything from the surprise occurrences to the capacity to tune our attention into another through time and space—and know what is happening in a more immediate way than if we were next to them—can have meaning. In fact, this knowing does not even recognize time or space. It doesn’t concede to the “recognized” domains of consciousness. Nothing is off-limits to be in communication with.
We then begin to develop various available streams of communication: the noticing, taking in, and placing salient features of a moment or synchronous aspects into ambient attention. We listen to the interior communications that come in intimations and we foster—rather than override—them. We anchor our attention into this place and allow the information to flow down the line.
As we begin to develop facility in hearing and seeing with the interior faculties, we find the carrier signal gets stronger and the white noise—the meaningless chatter—falls away.
It’s not that we develop discernment per se, but rather, the true signal gets stronger and it becomes self-evident what is intended for our consciousness and what is not. It self-sorts. From this place, all that is confused on the surface resolves. There is a cellular level of unassailable knowing. The artificial power of the rational world holds no sway, even when the truths being accessed are different from the world of appearances. Elegance, then, boils down to the signal. Everything else is just noise.
Eros asks, Can we live that close to the signal and allow it to reach and move us regardless of its instructions? If this is our aspiration, we will need to have converted the stale energy within us to something that could move with the dynamism and agility needed to answer such a call. Otherwise, the signal will be like a messenger stuck in traffic, desperately taking alternative routes to deliver its package. Each time the signal hits the traffic jam of our crusty, stagnant identity, it will be told a series of “buts”—but it’s too much work; but it doesn’t fit our worldview; but we’d have to change; but we’d have to let go of resentment; but we’d have to face judgment. The list goes on.
Power, then, is the ability to see truth and act on what you see. Power spent well is a compounding investment with an increasing and self-perpetuating cycle of converting delusion into truth.
