Truly, Infinitely Yours

by Christopher Lovejoy on September 23, 2012

Those who think that the world is strictly material would have you believe that you are your body, that your only identity is the physical body with which you identify from birth to death.

In this straightjacket view, your consciousness is but a byproduct of your brain.

Therefore, on this prisonlike view, you live finitely, and you can only ever live finitely, with no access to any higher power: when you die, that’s it; it’s all over. A “sweet” oblivion awaits you at death.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Many accounts of lucid death have been given and many books on near death have been written that address and expose the many problems with this all-too-cozy, insulating, cooped-up view.

My own informed and reasonable bias is twofold.

Based on what I know about the ever-remarkable lucid death experience, I can speak with confidence when I say that (1) I will not die when I “die”; and (2) powers far greater than my own exist.

Furthermore, I need not suckle at the teats of any traditional religious point of view to be nourished by this bias. I need only cultivate and celebrate a sense of the sacred and divine in everyday life.

Aside: as far as I know, most if not all traditional religions are rich with wisdom and insight.

With these introductory points in mind, what does it mean to live infinitely? Does it mean setting aside worldly concerns to evolve into a God-like consciousness by way of infinite love and wisdom?

Does it mean meditating and manifesting my way into and out of a field of infinite possibilities?

Let us see what Lao Tzu in the Tao Te Ching has to say …

Tao Te Ching, Verse 4

A precautionary note to the scientistic and literal-minded among us: the colorful language used in the following verse is metaphorical; none of it is meant to be taken literally.

The Tao is empty
but inexhaustible, bottomless,
the ancestor of it all.

Within it,
the sharp edges become smooth;
the twisted knots loosen;
the sun is softened by a cloud;
the dust settles into place.

It is hidden but always present.
I do not know who gave birth to it.
It seems to be
the common ancestor of all,
the father of things.

Ref: Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao

If this wisdom is anything to go by, the Source of all creation and manifestation is alive and well.

My Impressions of the Verse

The limits of science become all too evident when attempts are made to discern the Origins, which is not to say that no such attempts should be made. I would add that current attempts made to discern the Origins of matter, sentience, consciousness, and awareness befuddle the mind.

Science prides itself on establishing causal links; correlations are good, but causations are better.

The causal links between nothing and something, between inorganic and organic, between matter and sentience, between sentience and consciousness, and between consciousness and awareness?

In this dense manifest realm, these links are shrouded in mystery.

These causal, transformative links are unfathomable mysteries and I strongly suspect that the entire paradigm being assumed and utilized to investigate these matters is flawed from the outset.

In any such investigation, this question can always be posed: how did this come to be? In my view, a far more interesting question can be pondered: what role does consciousness play?

Conceivably, a tightly woven, fully integrated paradigm that allegedly explains the Origins could be produced and agreed upon by many if not most scientists, but I would respectfully submit that as we learn more and more about the nature of consciousness, such a paradigm would be challenged.

In light of these comments, my overall impression of the verse is that it serves to keep The Beloved Mystery alive, but more than that, it escorts practicality through the mystical dimension of life.

Paradoxically, verse 4 seems oddly impersonal and yet personal at the same time …

The Tao is empty
but inexhaustible, bottomless,
the ancestor of it all.

This portion of the verse describes the nameless Tao in metaphorical terms, pointing to its boundless potential for inorganic manifestation, organic growth, and conscious experience.

I explore the nameless Tao in my post, The Beloved Mystery.

Within it,
the sharp edges become smooth;
the twisted knots loosen;
the sun is softened by a cloud;
the dust settles into place.

This is where things get interesting from a practical point of view. Despite their sage-like impartiality, intimations of earthly concern are peeking through this portion of the verse.

There’s a subtle suggestion in this verse that we align ourselves – our problems, our concerns, our difficulties, our inadequacies – with a creative Source greater than ourselves.

That is to say, “give up your resistance to Source, to Self, to God, to the nameless Tao in prayer or meditation, letting the Source of light and love and life put things right again.”

For you, this might mean “follow your bliss”, “go with the flow”, “cultivate a sense of the sacred and divine”, “be one with all”, “be one with the Source”, “align with Self”, “in God we trust”.

It is hidden but always present.
I do not know who gave birth to it.
It seems to be
the common ancestor of all,
the father of things.

The nameless Tao, being pure potential awaiting manifestation, is naturally hidden from view, but it remains everpresent, through miracles and synchronicities, in the world of the 10,000 things.

In the second line, the author confesses a reasonable ignorance, but I think some rather provocative speculation is in order here: we – you, me, everyone – are souls in training for Godhood.

Think about it: what kind of universe would you create? Would it include the capacity for free will, with possible consequences for extreme pain and inexpressible torment and suffering?

The only quibble I have with this verse is with the last line “the father of things”.

Those who have been in the presence of the Creator on the Other Side in their lucid death experiences have reported that it is genderless and yet expresses both a maternal and paternal presence.

To wit: “it seems to be the common ancestor of all, the Mother and Father of things”.

This makes even more sense when you know that souls lose their sense of gender after they pass.

Implications for Personal Fulfillment

If I choose to live infinitely, what does this mean and what implications would this have for personal fulfillment? Before I address these questions, I think it wise to explore what it means to live finitely.

At the very beginning of this post, I wrote and I quote:

Those who think that the world is strictly material would have you believe that you are your body, that your only identity is the physical body with which you identify from birth to death.

In other words, you are little more than an animal, albeit a rational animal (if you’re lucky).

Rational animals actually do more than eat, drink, slurp, burp, fart, scratch, bathe, shag, sleep, cough, sneeze, puke, piss, shit, fight, yell, swear, and curse. They also work and play; make money, homes, and friends; date, relate, and educate; get married, have children, and keep pets; amuse and entertain themselves and others; spend and save, buy and sell, donate and dispose; drive cars and take buses, trains, and planes; pay bills; and follow routines – all the while conversing about or discussing any or all of the above.

For the earthbound souls among us, in the realm of all things mundane, this is living finitely.

Little if any thought is applied to performing these functions as most of them can be done routinely, automatically, in the spur of the moment, with little planning or forethought, all in the name of preserving a carefully cultivated sense of safety and security, day in and day out.

It’s a life fit for a conditioned animal, with a modicum of rationality thrown in for good measure.

Another way to look at finite living is to flip a coin and consider this metaphor: riding the serpent.

The spirits of some souls become restive and rebellious in the face of such routine living. For all of its safety and security, such spirits cannot bear to allow themselves to endure a living death.

And so they hop on the serpent and ride it into and out of the darkness of oblivion. For them, it’s all about sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll; eat, drink, and be merry; resist and rebel, rebel and resist; while reducing everything sacred and divine to the mechanical and the material, the physical and the analytical.

You are your body, after all, and your only identity is that of your body, right?

Wrong.

I invite you to consider and contemplate the words of Bashar from an infinite perspective:

There is nothing in creation that contradicts the choices you make, that you believe most strongly.

The more you can be yourself, the more you can help others choose to be themselves, because they will see, by your example, what they can also be (not that they must choose it).

Form follows frequency: circumstances don’t matter; only state of being matters.

Everything you experience will take its cue from your state of being. Be this state of being because you can. You need no other reason. Be who you are because that is who you are.

This is reason enough in the eyes of creation.

This perspective on infinite wisdom won’t resonate with everyone, but for those for whom it resonates, you’re given an interior view of your relationship with the sacred and divine dimensions of life.

Your portal to the infinite realm is not physical; it’s religious and spiritual, sacred and divine.

Your portal to infinity is your very own locus of control to explore and express, to expand and create, to evolve and ascend beyond perceived friction and resistance, limitation and restriction.

To live infinitely is to open your heart and mind, your soul and spirit, to promise and possibility.

To live infinitely is to consciously transform yourself by changing your fundamental relationship with matter, sentience, consciousness, and awareness, from one of acting and behaving reactively and mindlessly to one of acting and behaving responsively and creatively, with grace and ease, without the reactive straining and struggling and stressing that characterizes too many of those who ride the serpent with abandon and of those who live obliviously inside glass houses and cardboard boxes.

Soul and spirit. Sacred and divine. Unity and harmony. Grace and ease. Respectively.

The heart of your soul longs for the contentment that gives rise to grace; the soul of your spirit yearns for the upliftment that makes it possible for you to conduct yourself and perform with ease.

Soul and spirit, contentment and upliftment, grace and ease, are intimately connected.

They feed back on each other magically and mysteriously, even miraculously, just so long as you live infinitely, remaining connected to the Sovereign Sum and Source of All Creation.

Again, speaking of the Source, courtesy of the Tao Te Ching:

Within it,
the sharp edges become smooth;
the twisted knots loosen;
the sun is softened by a cloud;
the dust settles into place.

When you view and treat the mundane with sacred intent and when you view and treat and realize your potential with divine intent, you’re well on your way to fulfilling your earthly and kosmic destinies.

Next up: Living Impartially

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This post is one of many in an ongoing series that began here.

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