What is known

What is known is only of any use as a vehicle to take me to what I don’t know. We all know this, but somehow conveniently forget this primary reason for existence – to come to know.

If politicians were to enter a debate truly not knowing what is to come out of that debate, then the result would be better than either side of a polemic. The result of a debate appears in the middle ground of the opposing views. This result may appear to favour one side of an argument, more cathode than anode, however the ode is more than either.

It is of little use criticising the way existence appears to Mankind. The created can’t create a dung eating fly exnihilo, let alone a Universe. We can take it apart and analyse it, but ‘creation’ is a wholly singular enterprise.

A view of the last century is of civilisations being clashed together with great force in a Hadron styled war and conflict collider, that then left a residue that has industrialised global economic activity, created the model of the UK National Health Service, made the UN, put men on the moon, tested out Communism, ran Capitalism to destruction.

What is to happen now then? Is this clashing of materials known as Man the only way for Consciousness to reflect upon Itself?

There either is a Source Code, or there isn’t. There either is a link to Abrahamic prophecy, Moses, Christ and Muhammad (sa) as they meet The Buddha, the Sikhs and Krishna, or there is not.

My personal experience states that there is a Source Code and that there is a Universal Linkage across globally known Messengers of Spirit. There are many people in this time who know that there is a connection across cultures of spiritual expression, they can lecture about Sufis, saints, sinners and celebrants of every faith manager that’s ever been.

So, what does that make me? Am I something really special? Am I threatening to upend religions by claiming to be Jesus Christ returned? Am I the hidden Imam? Am I to be seen as Maitreya? Am I the eventual Messiah of the Jews? Am I the Sufi who is perennially known as the Madman of God? 

Or, do I take what I know of myself and approach what I do not know, the same as everyone else on this planet? What does my experience in this life of mine make me? I don’t know – and neither do you.

So, there is the possibility of a dialogue, a conversation, a meeting in a place of our not knowing.

I approach any such possibility of a meeting bringing only my direct personal experience. After having attended such meetings before where people who seemed to me to imply more from their own moot points of academic reference, that I couldn’t, indeed shouldn’t be saying things that they definitely wouldn’t say, I confess to having some sense of why should I bother myself again?

Destiny …. they said that they would help me; perhaps I was simply a little early.

I am prepared to be anything that Consciousness wishes Itself to be within the mortal constraint of my conscience. The preparatory cost to myself and others of that place of conscience and the precious Love that defines its stretch, is all that I know of myself biographically. This biographical knowledge and the identity jigsaw attached to it, though perhaps of seeming importance to a celebrity infected culture, is actually of little real importance compared to what can practically be done.

Whether I am of any use to anyone, whether anything can actually be done, is however utterly unknown to me. 

If not now, when? If not me, who?

www.drt.global/corporate

About Andrew Dettman

Counsellor, poet, cabbie, diction worker. Ministrant.
This entry was posted in General and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s