A few minutes ago, I walked through… a cosmic hymen.
Half of the people who care I’m alive are:
- far, far left;
- floating on Planet Possibility; and
- deeply understand what a cosmic hymen is, and have probably already journaled about their piercing of it (as I am doing now).
The other half who care I’m alive are:
- traditionalists of all kinds;
- grounded, sometimes in cement shoes; and
- may now be second-guessing their association with me.
There are a handful of others who fall in between, but I digress.
Back to the cosmic hymen. It’s a thin, membrane-like curtain that divides life as we have recently known it, from that other Emergent Life we’ve felt bubbling to the top, but haven’t unanimously agreed what to call it. You’ve heard many names, theories and speculations, and even though you have not settled on one… you know something is changing. Big time.
Whatever you choose to call it (a name is just a door — a means of entry), walking on that side is different. Everything is buoyant. Until you want otherwise. It is a place of instantaneous experience. Similar to our current life, but with far, far fewer buffers and interveners. Snap. Instantly. Experienced.
Which is why so much emphasis has been placed on how we use our minds and hearts, and how we spend our thoughts and feelings. Willy-nilly mind poop brings forth that very same poop. Actually. Instantly.
So, those of us with greater degrees of mind poop (ego-check!) or humor (haha!) are on this side of the hymen.
Q: How do you know which side you’re on?
A: If you still relate to “sides,” then you’re on this side. Because the other side, has no sides.
I think we get peeks of sidelessness to share the view, and forecast the experience.
What’s been your view? Your experience?