Saturday, March 22, 2008

The library of stones

The chakra system is by its very nature not only three dimensional, but infinitely dimensional. For every layer of self-referral that comes into the field, another layer pops out, just like tiled windows in a computer. The subtle vision keeps looking back on itself, mirroring awareness, and bringing out a new layer of the field. In the process of doing that, you’re thickening the field. It’s not only a matter of looking at the field. As vision returns back to the self, it compacts, it compresses information. Each tile is a whole package of information. When vision looks back at itself, it pushes the tiles together so that you get more and more of a tight fit.

One of the things that came to me was when I was watching a documentary about Macchu Pichu. One of the remarkable things about the temple structure is how the stones are so perfectly fit together. When I was in a different state, something happened to me while I was looking at the pictures. I had the realization that the temple was representing this self-referencing, infinite awareness and the stacks of information in the way the stones were piled on top of one another in this beautiful, retrofitted self-referencing expression.

The stones are a library. Ancient people had a remarkable ability to communicate with nature in a way that we’ve lost, and it’s hard for us even to understand. When you see hieroglyphs in a cave, we always think the communication is the writing, because we’re involved with writing. But I realized that it’s the stones themselves that are communicating. The stones were like computer chips. Ancient people could communicate with the stones and imprint them with information. I don’t know why this happened, but I have these experiences sometimes. When I looked at the whole framework of the temple, it lit up for me. I realized that all the stones were carrying information, which was meant to be carried into the future. They knew that this structure was going to last a long time. There are ancient sites like this all over the world. I’ve personally been to Stonehenge, and of course there are the pyramids, and many others. Everybody gets the idea that sacred information is locked into those structures. But when I was looking at the temple of Macchu Pichu, I realized that the sacred information is literally locked into the structures. The actual structures are conduits for holding information.

The reasons the ancients could do this is that they realized that our bodies are conduits for information. They could probably see the subtle bodies and they saw how beautifully all the layers of information in the data card of our being fits together. They were able to transmit that information into the stone, and the stone could transmit information back. It was a two way street. It’s a living database. It has organic intelligence. It’s alive. I realized that probably all the sacred sites on this planet have this in common because ancient people were able to communicate this way. Probably, just like now, some people were better at this than others. Not everybody was talking to the stones. But the ones who could communicate this way knew that in order to make a particular type of database they would need to impregnate the stone with a particular type of energy and that energy would have to come back.

We’re about at the right time on the planet where I feel that these sites are more available for translation. They’re ready to do their job. They’ve been sitting there all this time and now they’re going to talk. But how are we going to talk to them and how are we going to access their information? One of the things I realized is that in order to access information out of material objects in this way, they don’t have to be sacred sites. It could be the chair in your living room. The difference between the chair and the sacred site is that the information that is meant to be gained from them is of major, infinite, cosmic proportions.

1 comment:

John Lentz said...

A fellowship of words: Once when I was riding with a friend, a special piece of the Catholic mass came up on her CD. Knowing she was Catholic, I asked her what it meant. Her response was so articulate and filled with such feeling, I thought a priest would have envied her expression. Then she asked me what I thought it was about. I told her I thought the song was singing about itself. Her astonishment was so great that her mind dissolved, releasing its energy above her head into the unknown. Quickly, however, her mind reformed and she scrambled into references to Christ. She was home again. Self and thought were once more the same.