The (Soul) People of the Starry Blanket

As if there is a transcendental ‘tapestry’ which each moment of our lives and thoughts ‘make patterns in’. Yet these patterns are not static, or artifacts… they are, themselves, ‘more than merely alive’, and from this tapestry, souls and histories find their sources and derive their modes.

As if, with each act and gesture a secret power that lies unseen behind them. Far more than mere author-ship. Each movement of the mind ‘instructs’ the tapestry from which it emerges and to which it returns. And each stroke bears meanings (in relation) that become explosively self-expanding (over time/space). This can be thought of in a mathematical form, but its true terms are, like us, at once far more representationally simple and relationally transcendental.

As if each act is your personal abstraction of all moments of timespace and being. The spirit of the mind is as a needle that embroiders one ‘point’ into the living tapestry of eternity — which is not ‘a being’ but is perhaps Being (in beings, as Being… being).

As if this tapestry is at once eternal and alive. In the sense that any and every act at once includes and reconnotates all others. And every act becomes a living star in this tapestry. Forever. And the sum of these acts?

This is … your life as a being of relation and purpose… but not a book — because it is alive amongst all other traces and … con-stellations. It is eternal life… but nor for the needle. For the thread.

As if it were in heaven that, there are patrons, of a sort. They watch… not so much you, for you are the pattern, not the needle… but your traceries… their… patterns and intentions. And beauty there is truth of hearts, not simple styles or fashions. And from these patterns the souls of children rise to birth as angels rise to seeing — to (the opposite of) wars of seeing fire, and myriads of wonders unimaginable.

And this is what is meant by Michaelangelo’s astonishing painting in which the Son of Woman reaches skyward… as her noblest champion and voice… to touch and »share the »hand of god, where lightning dwells as adoration, thunder of awe, and explosions of reverence too ecstatic to survive, let alone represent in fictions or books.

And that is what a sage meant when it was said that all we do on Earth shall be Done in Heaven, which is not a place so much as our own memories of it as our living hearts and minds in action with and for all beings and our exquisite mothers, world, fathers, daughters… living places… waters… skies. And all our forgotten ecstasies of purpose, self and other-being. So many that one of them would forget us of all books and machines just one!

The living tapestry. The Starry Blanket of the Soul People.

We have eyes of living water. Tongues of anciently conserved intelligence. Our minds are the sounds of the unspoken words of the lips of the skies married to those of the sacred soul of our human mother and her moment of ecstasy with our fathers. We are their ladder. A word from out the mouths of every star at once. In all of time. Now.

As if each act becomes an eternal star in living time. To forge a more-than-merely-living pattern from which all souls and lives are drawn. Yet we draw each moment of our minds and lives ‘by descent’ through links and patterns in eternity’s face, which is no face at all… and is so like our night sky!

We draw down this entire sky as a blanket within us! This blanket is the mind’s true nature… and when we ‘dream’, we return to the living waters of our birthplaces.

And we draw not one blanket into our living souls… no, an impossible splendor beyond all universes are our souls. We draw … a unique and personal ‘constellation’ of the endless blankets of our ancestors… billions of ‘layers’, infinitely folded by love and mutuality beyond the most heroic of stories…into our precious and yet completely ordinary human birth.

As if, when we look into each others’ ‘eyes’ — the power we see there, is the power of the living tapestry behind them… in another universe. Where neither our science nor religion have the slightest sway or validity…

To know and be this is the greatest knowledge that one can draw into a point, and so, to begin to remember together, here, now, is my pattern-star at once in me, in you, in heaven and in eternity.

The animals and living places established the local fabric and Genesis of the blanket together with our most ancient ancestors, who are, in fact, their actual children. They were before us. We thus draw the web of insect and animal souls into the most precious and primeval assets of our own. And this is why we must revere, defend, speak for and preserve all the living places, the living waters, and the animal cultures. In fact, we are bound to assist them in all matters, not only as equals… as the parents of our bodies, minds and souls.

Now. Together.

Always.

{ And in the signal here on Earth, the skeletal remains?

Each signal whole and true is writ, in secret languages, refrains…. }

I am insatiably curious about the nature of living beings, intelligence, language, and the origins of our species.

As a cognitive activist, my dream is that my work may contribute to our ability to understand the origins of our strange situation as modern humans, and assemble effective replacements for what our modern cultures are but the broken remnants and falsified costumes of.

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