The Little Schism of Evol Notion

The Little Schism of Evol Notion –  by Alex Williams
A Thought left it’s source in ancient past so long ago that the light it traveled in began it’s journey before the earth was formed. “I must hide before I am discovered for surely I have done a dastardly deed in leaving”, echoed off of nothing. Rocketing through the atmosphere piercing the membrane veil of the placenta and into darkness. A journey into darkness and fear, a detour for sure. What this thought hoped to find it brought with him here into this dimension. His name was Evol Notion.

Thus time was born. From the curiosity of what it might be to be alone and separate, a little privacy please. I need some space between cause and effect. I can create my own Nirvana and I Will. Better than the one before with my own rules and laws. Evol was a rebel of the first degree, not known before. My own Universe of my own making and I shall be it’s ruler and it shall do my bidding. It all awaited my vision of what could be in my private, alone and separate bubble of a realm.

First order of business would be to create my laws. For each and every thing there would be an opposite and all shades in-between. Multiplicity and fractionalization would rule. Four dimensions it would be, the here, the there, the in-between and time. Divide and conquer, attack and defend, love and hate, pleasure and pain and even life and death. I would people my realm with subjects able to build a concept of themselves out of thin air. This world would be built on the idea of a individual personality with a private mind. A sort of software package that each could lay upon a ever changing and shifting manifestation of matter.

Layers, I need to create layers, they are a good place to hide. Spirals and labyrinths will cover my tracks. I’ll call this the spiral galaxy and hide within a sort of fibonacci sequence. I would create mountains and boundary’s of time. Certainly I cannot be discovered in a maze of ignorance. Like the veil of the atmosphere this will be a bubble never to be completely seen in or out of.

Millenia after millennia past by and I could see that my creation was good. The kingdom of my mind was in full swing. Eons came and went, the tribes grew in knowledge and invention, roamed the surface of their making like little ants, I the ant-thropologist. But time wounds all heals and as it passed increasing viciousness dominated the plains, battles over territory and the imagined mind created objects were fought over. A breed of dominant peoples began to spread on the land like a cancer, destroying everything in it’s path. The fate of my hiding place was in question and I was growing bored with watching this vulgarity playing out. I began to long for my homeland and thus my planning of departure was necessarily undertaken. Should and could I return for certainly they were infuriated with me leaving. All of this I considered and determined to go and find the wormhole home.

I discovered that one believes he is part of his surroundings and so it was for me at this late date. I had made a sort of prison for myself, chained to the things I had created for I believed that they had value. This body I seemed to be stuffed down into was limited. My hope of creating my own Universe was turning to bitter ashes of despair. Slowly, I came to see that this world of my own creation held nothing that I wanted after all. My joy could not be found in the manifestation of matter nor in my design of individual-ness. It was just my imagination running away with me. I was looking for love in all the wrong places.

My mind turned to the escape from my chains and prison cell. The light beams that I had traveled in seemed only to go in one direction since my invention of time. The plans that I had designed to build my labyrinth when I arrived were misplaced and forgotten. Through all of this mishap I heard the distant melody of a voice of my history begin to beckon my return, which further promulgated my frantic search for the re-cognition of the way. Pieces and fragments of this jigsaw puzzle would rush by in a daze when I was not expecting them. Like a mad scientist I worked in my laboratory scribbling, pouring and planning my escape. Black holes, worm holes, nebulas and quasars, the fabric of this time must be bent. It seems that I would need a rocket with many fuel cells to break these chains and blow out the sides of the prison wall. If I had created this construct surely I could create ONE that pierced this veil of nothingness of my making.

One morning I awoke distraught for I realized that the struggle was of no use. The fire that I had started knew not of the spark that created it. I simply gave up. Looking out on the world I had created, things seemed to have evolved to a brighter wavelength on my channel. Some of the layers of the veil must have peeled off in the storm of the frantic searching in the lab. In my acceptance of the impossibility of leaving this plane I decided to take my own curriculum, the course I had set up for the inhabitants. Duality is a mother contrasted with my homeland of single Peace.

It turned out that the villagers were not exactly understanding the curriculum I had set up and a teacher was born. To have peace, teach peace to learn it, I pontificated to any that would listen. Questions such as, If you could go back what would you do differently or where do you see yourself in five years, they continually asked of me. It seemed the rules I had set up were blinding the peoples. Too many sense perceptions, too much thought, were actually blinding them, I decided. There is nothing so blinding as perception. Since they were my own creations I knew they were capable of seeing as I could, not with the body’s eyes but with the minds.

The peoples had this idea of peace sentimentally but would much rather battle over just about anything. Separate, divide and conquer was a war without end and I was doomed to watch it all for many eons. This world of duality, equal and opposite, has serious drawbacks, I thought. The idea that peace was the final goal was humorous as well, for peace was only the beginning, I lectured them.

I arrived at the conclusion that I could not leave until all of us could leave and all could not leave until we became One. To have, give all to all. This was funny to me for we were all always one. However, the realization would have to be born in the minds of the people. The dawning on the minds was my departure date.

If everybody’s wrong then no-one is right. And that certainly seemed like the case in my world. Since my world was made of ideas or mental constructs then we needed to build a construct such as a ladder to climb out of this double helix, each needed to go to the place of the skull and undergo his own crucifixion, dark night of the soul and resurrection, be dead and buried, light up all of His chakras, undergo a kundalini awakening and so forth and so on. It dawned on me that when this had taken place there would be no reason to leave and nowhere to go. A little heaven right here on earth.

If you are at a parade and get bored, you can fast forward it by walking in the opposite direction. I needed to speed up this parade. Full reverse I ordered, we must go in reverse, for this world is inside out and backward. My days began to be filled with the notion of how I was to lead the peoples up to this reverse wormhole and get them to jump in. To the Who-mans comfort was the guiding rule, lets all make our body’s comfortable until they get old, get sick and get die. If it wasn’t fighting over a scrap or arguing about who was going to do the dishes, it was “one day, this will all pay off”. And there was plenty of decoration going on. Let me see if I can attract another body with these shiny things I wear, but first, color my hair, enlarge my breast, buy a suit or high heels and bon-do my face. A sickened wall of flesh does need a lot of lipstick.

Within the construct of this popular topic of free will lay hidden the boundary’s. I mean I set it up so they would run from pain and toward pleasure, how free is that. They were only allowed this little slice of a corridor to roam in. Freedom is just another word for nothing left but booze. Therein lay my answer.

Suffering, there was no other way. The thing feared most would drive them to the wormhole. Wait, that was only part of it. Pleasure that was it, look over here, I would direct them. Look into this magnificent pool of crystal clear water, yes, look at your own beautiful reflection, thats right, lean over…… I just had to build that pool with a little downslope so they could fall gently over.

One day all of the babies prevented by the pill showed up. They were mad! I asked them this question; if you were traveling in a car at the speed of light and you turned on the headlights would anything happen. They gathered around in a huddle to discuss it then retorted, “only if it was on Labor Day”. Now these kids would not be in need of the wormhole mentioned. The understanding that the Cosmos IS in the mind was obvious, for babies always seek to join with what they see rather than keeping it apart from them. This is the difference between vision and sight. The idea of sight typically thought of as photons hitting the retina is reversed, vision goes out and envelopes everything.

What was all this about? Was I to free my peoples? If I was to free them then I would have to pre-suppose that they were -not free. This was my own rule of opposites. In truth they were not imprisoned but by their own choosing. Those who seek the light are merely covering their eyes, the light has always been in them. Oz never did give nothin to the Tin Man, that he didn’t already have. No one need look for Loveville if thats the city he walks in. The only way one knows that he has something, is to give it away. Yes, the only thing we can keep in this life is what we give away. But no one was giving anything for free.

The question “What was all of this about” was the issue. The wormhole must lie not in more answers but less questions. No one but looks for the meaning of life but the experience of being alive. Everyone wants to change the world but no one thinks of changing himself. Seek not to change the world but to change my mind about the world and all of the world changes with it. It was never about leaving this place for where would I go. It was never about looking for the perfect conditions elsewhere but transforming the existing conditions into the destination. If life is a journey then this must be the destination. Build a vehicle called “Evol” and ride in that for a while. Is that short for evolution or love spelled backward. Could be one in the same.

End of part One

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