Man has no voice.
Man has no voice. Our words are like echoes fighting the wind to gain bite. A billion, billion, billion conversations had, and yet we are still none the wiser; still very much on the lower rungs of the evolutionary ladder, when it comes to understanding the big existential hole, we are in. This hole without a bottom we are so desperate to stand up in.
Man has no voice. So, who’s doing the talking? A fair question, in light of. I am spirit, who else? I am the ghost in the gut of your head, trying to gain traction. The soft whispering sound at the back of your head, always trying to come through. Always trying to wear you. Always trying to override the ego, so that you might know the real giant that you are.
Man has no voice. It is not man that enters the water, it is I, spirit. It is not man that enters science, it is spirit. Man is the car: spirit is the engine. Spirit is the driving force behind everything. The logos in flow. Spirit is the eye that looks on from behind the eyes, to know the path it is of. Take spirit out of the equation and man is where? Spirit is like the electricity that runs through the conduit; the light in the tunnel as opposed to the tunnel itself.
Man is the tunnel; spirit is the ghost rising in its channel. Inchoate spirit trying to come home. Embryonic spirit. Adolecent spirit. Immature spirit trying to mature, no different than a child growing into adulthood. I think it serves us better to think of spirit in this light. Spirit is not a finished product yet; spirit is simply a light coming back on. Rising slowly on a blind mile. Spirit is in a state of resurrection to be more precise about it. Spirit is like Ai in a way; an algorithm designed to learn. To move from the most basic steps of synthetic intuition, into the most complex patterns of knowing what it is to be.
I know I mentioned it already, but let me state it again regardless: I don’t make any clear distinctions between spirit, consciousness, soul and God. Call it what you will, they are one and the same thing as far as I am concerned. I don’t know how to separate them into boxes. Anyone who tries, invariably ends up in a stream of semantic gibberish. Spirit is God in us. God pushing through us, is spirit. Consciousness is its essence. Soul is just the fine tuning of the three.
What if it is the case, that the spirit within us is simply trying to grow up? No different than a dim light bulb, glitching and biting at reality, in a bid to come back on. Maybe, God/spirit just has the potential of an, “all seeing eye,” at this early stage in its development, as opposed to it actually being the, all seeing eye, in the omniscient sense, from the off go. Worth a little consideration I feel. The notion that God/spirit is just a drop by drop, reality, on the way to becoming a waterfall. A systemic eye trying to punch its way through, until all the lines are one.
Man has no voice. Once again, we have to go down the rabbit hole to really get into this. Many layers to unpack. For all intents and purposes, our story in essence, is a story of inquisitiveness and traction. Let’s begin there. Our story is a story of an inquisitive eye trying to grab onto its track. After all, we are the monkey that ran at the world with a force in our sail that was always willing us onwards. We are a story of a monkey that came up on a track with an eye for traction. Once upon a time we were fish; now we are fish in tract of that very fact. Go figure.
Folk, often talk about the human story, as a story of survival against all the odds, and in part, it is that, only we are so much more. Yes, we are a story of cave paintings, spears, hunting, war, greed, grab, empires, roads, medicine, farming, commerce, knitting and everything else in the bag. We have sailed the seas and faced the black storm many times, but in truth, these notions only have relative meaning, because in the bigger scheme of things, they are no more than incidental chapters on a cosmic sidenote. Blips in an ocean of blips. What we are in the deepest sense, is a story of a thing becoming more. A spirit trying to rise out of its animal head to become whole. And it is from the deepest sense of self that our true voice comes from.
Fundamentally, we are, in every sense of the word, a transcendental story. A beast that went beyond its burden, to know the line of its mile. We are the story of an eye that rose out of the dark to talk of itself. To fit itself to itself. To fit in. To fit itself to the window it is in. To walk through the door. An eye that rose out of its monkey head, to set its handle by the correct configuration of things and combine with it. Spirit is the tuning fork that tunes itself in. Spirit is the rope that pulls us forward. It is the creative eye: the innovative eye: the eye that reaches out and inwards: the eye that sees around corners; future. past, present tense, spirit occupies it all. Spirit sees into it all. Spirit enters the waters. Spirit gives agency to our true voice. This is our story.
What does the history of the Roman empire matter, when considered in the face of our cosmic journey through space and time? By the same token, WW2 is a spark in the dark, when compared to the history of collapsing stars and planet earth taken its place in the universe. All our historical chapters pale in comparison to the journey of life itself, bursting forward out of darkness with an eye for the light. Once again, ours is the journey of an eye trying to square itself to a circle. An eye on a mile trying to stabilise its line. If you want to understand the true voice within, you have to understand what it is of. We are a seed in the soil of the entire universe; it’s what feeds us: it’s what we feed off; it’s the deep well of our mind, with its waters running through us constantly.
Spirit is also the inquisitive voice within. Always asking questions of itself. That we might walk along the right path. To know thyself. To know what we are of. To know what is within. To see into it all. Spirit is all there is. The spirit to face the storm and win the day. The spirit to face the dragon and take the mountain, with its severed head in our hand. Spirit is everything that is colossal within man, and beyond spirit, there isn’t anything else. Go figure. The thing that reaches transcendental heights in man, is spirit. Spirit is doing the talking. What else could have said all that? Man has no voice.
Spirit is our willingness to never give up, even when all the odds are stacked against us. Ultimately, our journey is a story of a spirit trying to gain traction with it all. Trying to gain traction, so that it might elevate its handle. Spirit is art, science, philosophy and love. Spirit enters the world through all of them. Spirit gains traction through all of them. Although, spirit has its Achilles heel too. Ego. Once spirit began its transition to become whole again, it found itself in ego, and ego is a very difficult field to gain ground in, because ego has a way with running ahead of itself.
Ego is a funny bubble of wobble. This colourful sense of self, veiled in darkness. Man as master of his own house. Man with the super hero cape on his own back. Man trying to own the hat. Never quite fit, has it. Man trying to wear the shoe. Never quite fit, has it. Man sat at a square table on a chair without legs. Looking at the world through his own eyes. On his feet, like the mile is his for walking. Ego is me as me and you as you. If spirit is the ghost in the machine, then ego is the ghost in a hat that doesn’t quite fit its head.
Ego is a colourful window into the world, but we can all disengage from ego and go beyond it. Why is that the case? It doesn’t work the other way around. I mean, we can’t disengage from spirit, the way we can ego. We can’t mediate our way into pure ego. It has no grounding. Ego is not what we are. Ego has no root to plug into. Ego has no path of its own. Ego has no fixed walls. It is simply a default extension of spirit. It’s like you’re a conscious ice cube, floating in a vast ocean, only your acting like the ocean is not in you.
Spirit is why we have inspiring thoughts. Spirit fires them up. Ego on the other hand, can barely hold a conversation with itself. Spirit inspires awe. Spirit invokes spirit. Spirit is synthesised with reality through a complex net, that far exceeds the limitations of ego. Spirit knows that it is connected to the whole ocean. Spirit is synthesised with the ocean. Ego is splashing about in a puddle of mud. Spirit is willing itself forward into the ball, so it can know it for its score. Ego is chasing the next tickle. Spirit enters the world through the broader contexts that give us measure, so it really is spirit that does the talking for us. Man by definition, has no voice.
To know the essence of man, is to enter the essence of spirit, because spirit is all there is to know. You can’t enter the essence of ego as I said. Meditate on it. You can move into a feeling of ego but you can’t hold traction with it. It’s like trying to grip water. It’s like marrying the dress and not the woman in it. Ego, is not the pond, it is the ripple. The pond is spirit. Spirit is within us. How can you not talk with it, in your sail? I mean, what do you have to say of importance that doesn’t have spirit in it? Spirit is in all the things that give life meaning. Spirit has bite. Man has no voice, unless of course, he thinks getting off on his own rattle is saying something.
Getting back to traction. Inferential traction to be more precise about it. Everything we know, and by We, I mean spirit, is built around inferential traction. To know, is to gain cognitive purchase with the thing we are trying to know. You are in the process of trying to gain traction with my thoughts right now. If you are still reading, then what is pulling you in? Are you not in tract of my track? Our track. Track and traction, what else is there? It’s not like there is a different path to map, now is there? One train, one tunnel, one track; all on board and rolling with it. Life is always a story of track and traction. The track and the thing that tracks it.
You can’t understand spirit, if you don’t understand the track, you are of. Spirit needs traction to see. To climb. Spirit is blind without it. Spirit is alive in a garden of traction. Inferential traction. Spirit entered a world of traction. Spirit adapted around traction. Spirit mapped its way into the external realm along the tract of what is. Spirit, through man, is connected to the entire sphere of being, and the more it gains traction with it, the more it becomes. The more it becomes, the more it sees. The more it sees, the more it speaks of itself. And it sees now, that it can’t gain traction with man, because it doesn’t hold as a set configuration unto itself.
Our innate, a’ priori conditions, tell us so much about what we are in essence. Rather, what spirit is in essence. I mean, what has man got to say for himself at the end of the day anyhow? My empire! My cock! My flash car. My house. My shoe to wear. My show. My song. My story. Rattling on about this and that. A billion, billion, billion conversations had, and we are still none the wiser; still lost on our evolutionary mile. What can we say that has real weight though? I am love. That changes the game. Now we are in the realm of spirit. Once we go above and beyond the daily spread of things, we reach an elevated sense of self, and in that state, we are spirit.
Spirit is the strongest voice within. Spirit is the eye that goes beyond the bills we have to pay; the chores we have to undertake, and sees the wood for the trees. Spirit is alive on our tongues whenever we talk of connectivity. Whenever we talk of union and communion. Forgiveness and redemption. Salvation and hope. Oneness and church. Peace and understanding. Spirit is the poetry that ties it all together in the end.
Man may have died along the way, but spirit never has. The engine does what the engine does. The body just holds it in place. We are not a hard story to figure out. Stepping out of monkey into man. Monkey head walking into language patterns. Monkey head walking into science. Monkey head philosophising. Monkey head in traction of all it has come to know. What is driving it? What is inspiring it? Why is the eye fit for purpose in regards aligning with it all? Finding track with it all, through traction. Systemic spirit. Geometrical spirit. Inquisitive spirit. How could man talk of this, if man wasn’t it? Spirit doesn’t talk of man. Spirit talks of spirit. Man has no voice.
“Without depth we are isolated.” Words from the mind of Iain McGilchrist. Meaning, if we don’t understand the eye that connects us to all things, we remain separate from all that is. To have depth after all, is to enter spirit. To walk from the shallows of ego into the deepest waters. And whenever one does take this journey into self, one becomes aware of so much more. You get a sense of the eye inside. This eye that is synthesised with all things. To enter this realm is to feel connected; part of the whole; more than just a tiny man.
Without this deeper sense of self, we are empty vessels. Flat pack beings. Doesn’t matter what you own in the material sense, this measure of spirit, is truly what makes us giants. Man has no voice. No free will. No true standing. No predicate. No embodied nest. Man is more of a disembodiment when one really begins to think with its construct. Only spirit has meaning. Only spirit can call the game. Spirit is not in man. Spirit is in spirit. Spirit is all there is.
Spirit is the poetry that ties it all together in the end. Spirit is the biggest voice within. Spirit is circle and church. Spirit is union and communion. Peace and harmony. Symmetry and square. Line and finish. Reconciliation and redemption. Sacredness and love. Light above dark. Knowing above ignorance. Humility above arrogance. Power and drive. Gratitude and grace. Trust and honour. Coming home slowly and getting there one breath at a time.
Let me sum it up. It is very hard to disengage fully from ego because if you are alive, you have been conditioned to be you. You can’t escape the feeling of you; you the individual. You can’t turn it off. What you can do however is go deeper into your being. And when you go deep, you are still being, only you are being in a different realm. You are the systemic eye floating in the ocean and this eye is God. Make the switch. Become what you are.
Become what you are. You can’t opt out of what you are, and what you are, is what is written. In body, you are arms and legs, but in the deepest recesses of your mind, you are an eye. An eye on a journey home. An eye trying to talk through you; an eye trying to gain traction in your head, so it can finally stand up in your shoes. Imagine not letting that in. Shudder the thought.
