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February 3, 2009 at 06:44:35     Permalink The Real Matrix Diary Entry by Richard Volaar (about the author)

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Listen carefully to your children...or someone else's.

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My first confrontation with the Matrix took place before I ever had a chance to fight back, or to even realize the nature of my predicament.

There seem to exist layers of awareness.  Stacked atop each other, they have taught me that time is not a horizontal continuum upon which the past, present and future have been continguously laid, but a sinkhole into which we have all been dropped.  Falling towards a bottomless pit, each of us eventually slows down enough to recognize that falling towards darkness represents certain annihilation, climbing up towards light oddly attractive.

And so we begin our quest, most of us unconscious as to the nature of what drives us to find our greatest happiness, like moths to a porchlight.

Yes, there is a matrix that some believe they control as they watch the sleeping masses walk into the grinding gears they believe they set in motion.  In time, the gears they purchased at great price will become clogged with the remains of the brothers and sisters they have treated like so much refuse, so much excess biota.  And while we turn over our power to their grand constructions and machinations, they will continue to be attractive to our fellows.

I do, and I do not, know why we behave no better than lemmings to the sea.  It is the light given off by our brothers and sisters than draws us in towards a gigantic detour.  What I do know, for certain, is that those who believe they control this gigantic detour on the road to the Great Undoing are among the darkest, most cynical fellows among us.  They have no respect for the vehicle that drives them, and everyone, upward and to the place where time is no longer necessary.

The peace we all seek rests in the light where the only time is Now.  But the peace we seek and the joy that is its engine we can not have while we want it not.  We cannot push away from the truth and still esteem its value.  There are impossibilities in existence, wrinkles in time and space that serve as detours, and we all have a choice to indulge or to move onward and upward.

All is well, even though the most cynically nihilistic among us believe they can rip and tear at the fabric of time and space, detouring life's progression towards its greatest joy in the here and now.  If pain and drama is what you desire, there must always be a choice with which you can be amused.  But it is for your amusement only that these choices exist, not for validation of the reality of darkness and shadows.  Darkness and shadows exist because there is light in the first place, not the other way around.

Our greatest fear is not that we are impotent in the face of the misery we empower to distract and detour us, but that we are powerful beyond all measure. 

Together, we can pull taut the wrinkles that do not serve us.  Alone we achieve only the destruction of what was never really present in the first place.

I have knowledge of some truths, today, yet I still fear death and still loath the pain of awakening.  I prefer joy, as most of us do, yet I am surprised by the effects of the choices I make when they finally manifest before me.

Could the choice for joy be so simple that I fear I could fail to make it properly?  Am I so entangled in the hallucination I call, "reality," that I equate my escape from its grasp with annihilation?

For the moment this seems to be so.  Yet to know what must be is to rest in a certainty that transcends time and space, to rest in a place which is beyond belief because no doubt of mine, no subtle insanity I cherish, can disturb its wholeness.  And while I know I wish this to be so, I still fear my ability to shatter my own sense of wholeness and retain the split in my mind.

Sickness is health, up is down, light is dark and sadness, joy.  Two wrongs don't make a right, but three lefts do.

Laughter is as close as one can come in this life to the true understanding of our predicament.  So very dis-eased, yet it is only for the relief that comes from the laughter on the other side of our trifles.  All the tearing at the flesh of children, all the spilling of the blood, just to prove that laughter is impossible to sustain. 

Behold, the nightmare that passes with the coming a new day.  Children were made into compost by those who know that values in a dream are a matter of personal choice, not an absolute reality.  Absolute reality has already been decided upon and we had no part in its creation.  For that reason we are safe from harm, if we so choose.

There is only one reason the nightmare seems to persist and only one choice to be made to begin its undoing for everyone, for all time.  It is the Final Choice and it is the same one we have had before us since the beginning of time.

Do you rest at peace with only your own conscious judgment to work with and through, or do you crave a more stable and certain choicemaking ability?  If so, why?  If not, why not?

Therein lies the Last Judgment whose nature has never changed and in whose truth our beliefs have had no impact, ever.

 

Award winning poet, writer and refugee from the educational testing industry. Richard agitates, supports and motivates activists of all kinds, the most well-known being Cindy Sheehan. Web developer and designer by day, writer by night, Richard has (more...)
 

 

 
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