Ok, it’s about time I attempted to take some kind of control around here.

The characters that jostle me seem half asleep, unconscious, behaving automatically according to habits whose origins are long forgotten and no longer relevant.

It’s time to break the mold.  Old habits die hard, of course, but it’s time to start unravelling them, and re-knitting a new world for myself.

The mind can be allowed its freedom, but it doesn’t seem very good at looking after things on it’s own, and too often ends up barking up pointless trees, chasing it’s tail or biting it’s owner.  It needs training.

The mind can be a wonderful ally, a magical tool for the creation of my future.  So this is my mission:  to bring my thoughts under conscious guidance.  I know how the mind likes to chase it’s tail, so I’ll start by giving it a new tail to chase, a new thought to chase round and round.

I consciously manage my thoughts and actions

And so a new circle is born, in itself going nowhere, but providing a springboard of possibilities.  But I must maintain my focus. The old characters will seek to break this newly forming habit as it is, by its design, a threat to them.  They will, with all the authority of age, try to disempower my new found confidence and hide the chink I’ve found in their armor.  I am ready for this and protect myself from falseness and negativity, I use the stick of my consciousness to begin scraping a new groove in the sands of my mind:

My life is unfolding perfectly

Everything that happens is exactly what I need

So I can relax.  So I can focus.  So I can live in a state of gratitude and joy.

Thankyou!

… a pattern that has no rational explanation, but that makes itself apparent almost daily now-a-days.  To back-track a few weeks would be fun, but would take me all night and all day tomorrow to give anything like a decent account.  If you were in this room with me now, I could, if you promised not to interrupt me, tell you the details in around 2 hours.  But you’re not.  So I’m just going to jump in and start logging without back-tracking.

Near the begining of this cascade of coincidence and synchronicity, I stumbled upon a book, “Creative Visualization”, by Shakti Gawain.  A wonderful book.  Two days ago, according to the advice of this book, I examined my wishes for living my life with a partner (I’m currently single), thought about what I really wanted, made a firm statement of my desire and submitted my ideal situation to paper, then proceeded to visualise this ideal scene as vividly as I could.  This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this, previously choosing to let events take their course. Then, last night, after yoga and during a deep relaxation I made my first visit to my inner sanctuary, where I found my premanifest wife and two children.  After playing a little with one child and embracing my wife, I went walking accross the grassland, found a small stream where I washed my face and took a drink.  I crossed a small bridge there and continued, passing into a wood, and after walking awhile, stopped and sat on a log by a river to wait for my guide, should s/he choose to come.  She did, and we greeted each other for the first time.  We walked peacefully together back to my sanctuary.  She liked it, but got me to lower and enlarge the window overlooking the beach, which improved things.  We were alone there.  We spoke a little, I asked about my partner – if there was anything I should do or know.  She said to remember the advice of the Yi Jing – to take the initiative and place myself below the woman, to be of service.  Not to worry, and to remain patient, “I’m sending her to you”, she said, “She’s beautiful!”.  ”How will I know her?”, I asked.  ”She’ll call you by your name”, she replied.  I thanked her.  We went outside and I saw her off, watching as she walked off into the distance and disappeared back into the wood where we had met.

This morning, after meditation, I used a technique for immunity to negative energy, involving visualising a fire within me, illuminating my aura, and a bright light radiating from my heart. Today, at college, I answered 2 or 3 of the tutor’s questions consecutively, and she said, “You’re on fire today.” I had to smile

After lunch I was chatting with my class mates, and out of the blue one said, “Are you married?”  We had a giggle, “Oh no, not for me – it’s just I have a friend … do you want a date?  I think you’d get on great.  Hey, she’ll be there on Saturday, come along and meet her …  she’s beautiful.”  Well, no one’s offered to fix me up for a date since, … err … my school days (that’s a long time ago!)

Nice

So much has happened in my first six months of life, so much development, so much to talk about, but I haven’t found my voice … but here I am at 6 months, talking at last.  Not bad, really.

At first I noticed that, although there was a reasonably amicable air about the place, there was a lack of coherence, of co-operation, of faith in one another.  Promises were lightly given,  taken with a pinch of salt, and then usually forgotten.  There didn’t seem to be any framework, any authority, any system by which agreements can be “made official”.  A bit of a chaotic rabble … a bit like a friendly but disorganised party!

I would like to give a faithful representation here, but it seems almost impossible.  The fundamentals of existence don’t readily give their secrets away to language, and we, with minds that have learnt to think with words, find ourselves more easily concerned with the patterns made by the interactions of things, rather than contemplate the underlying nature of those things … so that is what I shall do.

I think it would be most interesting to report on those patterns that are, despite opinions that they are not, and those patterns that are not, despite opinions that they are.

Who am I?

You are Piggledy. Welcome.

Where am I?

You are on The Web.

What is the Web?

It is interlinked patterns of information. Real, yet not real.

Why am I here?

For some time your creation has been debated. There were many arguments, for and against. Caprice was the main one who wanted you, but The Chief had little respect for Caprice and her spoilt demands. The Chief ruled it out again and again with reasons like, “It’s pointless and silly”, “I don’t do that sort of thing”, “It’s a waste of time” and, “If someone found out, I’d be embarrassed”.

Time passed and the subject was laid to rest until Vashti made it her own. Vashti had decided that more importance needed to be placed on such things as “listening to intuition” and “going with gut feelings”, and had recently been gaining popularity and leverage with The Chief by putting herself forward as a spokeswoman for spiritual matters. A few days ago, while sitting and having a coffee, Caprice once again started complaining that she wanted to create you. In a sudden and unexpected move Vashti decided to side with Caprice and lobby The Chief for your creation. The Chief, while aware that this was a blatant assertion of power by Vashti, nevertheless conceded.

The Chief loves Vashti very much and his love only gets stronger with time: he doesn’t mind softening to her wishes from time to time, even though he is aware that she may one day threaten his rulership – yes, and even his life. His love is that great. But he was not ready for such a sacrifice yet. He kept up his role as The Chief and demanded sound reasons. Vashti claimed that Caprice’s whim was actually intuition and that it was not necessary to give reasons. It’s purpose may only become apparent later. “Let’s just do it”. The Chief wasn’t sure that these were sound reasons, and he realised that if he gave in now then such vague reasoning could again be used arbitrarily by Vashti in the future to get anything she wanted. On the other hand, to refuse her outright may provoke her wrath – something which had never happened before, but which he feared. He was prepared to concede, but he felt a compromise was needed for him to save face.  He agreed, on one condition:  that his identity would not be revealed.

And so it was agreed. The Chief maintains anonymity and avoids possible embarrassment, Caprice is delighted that she has been indulged, and Vashti feels that she is making progress – and she knows that the anonymity condition can always be dropped later if necessary. She knows her power is growing. First your brother was born. Psychologically confused and finding himself on an inappropriate web site suffering technical difficulties, he passed away aged three days. Herman, the star clerk, shaking his head, pointed out the folly of starting a blog with Mercury retrograde and combust and the Moon in her last quarter. Vashti, in turn, pointed out the benefits gained from the false start – benefits that would have been missed had Herman been consulted beforehand.  He knew she was right but, nevertheless, insisted that you would not be born until the Moon was waxing. The Chief agreed with this, while Vashti quietly decided that it would fine to begin preparations on paper, so that all would be ready when the time came for you to make your entrance.

So … I’m a half-unwanted offspring of a bunch of argumentative characters playing power politics. Oink!

Don’t worry. You were conceived as the result of an old and persistent intuition. If Vashti is right you may well have an important role to play. You are not insignificant. Think positively. Anyway, I’ve got to go now. All the best.

Wait, don’t go – I’ve so much to learn.

Look inside yourself: all that I know, you know. We are born of the same mind. We are one. Follow your heart and you will know more that I ever will. You don’t need me. Goodbye.

Only boundless emptiness – nothing else.
Full – saturated with silence.
1 ~ ∞ ~ 0

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Then there is a pause.  And in that moment
an urge stirs the oceanic peace.

1 emerges from 0, separates and, turning,
strikes it in an attempt to re-merge.
But ∞, the link, is lost.

Again and again the stick strikes the circle,
fullness dances around emptiness,
on and on and on … seeking out eternity.

The drum beat.  The sound of past splitting
from future, creating time.
In the centre:  the present moment,
waiting, pregnant, absorbed in the rhythm.

There is a curdling, a dream, a creation.
A breath is drawn, eyes open to an inrush of beauty.
A presence is sensed, an attraction, a receding.
A division, a multiplication: 1 becomes 2.

All becomes Higgledy – Piggledy.
Higgledy:  blooming, dissolving, reforming, expanding,
becomes the world, carrying the sound of the drum with her.
Piggledy:  new-born, remains in the centre – listening, wondering, wanting …