Thee Enmasque by Mike Kay

You were born into the only family you ever knew, learning to function embodied. You didn’t originally know what it is, to experience this manifestation. You came from a place of vibrant colour, a place where bright orange and luminous green can be together, intimate, yet never loose their essential character, or become lost in each other, even as such distinctions were never a cause for separation.

You were marked early, despite your kin trying to hide you. There is an unsettling side to this place, and those who sail upon it occupy all levels. You do appreciate, that family who tried to keep you safe, beyond the notice of the Others, but they couldn’t really understand anything like will or destiny.

The flash, that uncomfortable moment when you were psychically seen, naked before it, it went through you like a light, and you knew without anyone telling you that you had just been discovered. You sensed directly who did the looking. You knew they were male, of a different people, and as they realized they could not hide from you, they broke the link immediately.

That particular event changed nothing, while changing everything. From that moment events veered away from the soft black soil of life, to the raw forces of devouring. You would come to know them well, even to the end of your incarnation.

To the casual observer this might be described as a series of shocks and recoiling horrors, the issue coalescing into a question of whose life it is anyway, but you never had the luxury of debating such implacable destiny, because when those Others came for you there wasn’t any choice involved.

Deep, deep where there is no thought, hardly anything most would recognize as identity, you feel the current, the eddies, the ripples, the impossibly huge Cosmic Spiral, which is the irresistible force of everything. There is desire, and beyond her, a genuine reflection upon the flow or the direction for all of manifestation. Sensed simply is this recognition of a kind of wisdom, an activity without action, a vibrant harmony to ally with the will, into unfathomable mystery.

Those Others took you to an unknown place. Remarkably, the Others could be a presence in that eternal flow with you. The woman who held your tiny infant form, she with the deepest green eyes who would look into yours unblinking, you could understand her, sense her glowing. You were so small yet there were no words, only the gazing.

What was amazing, was watching together with her, so many people arise from the flow to imagine themselves as being something completely different. You sensed them creating impressions in the fabric of existence, built upon a brief embodied time, only to tumble back again so very quickly, exhausted into the eternal, all the while utterly unknowing. You saw the rising and falling as will and expression, one beyond any ordinary kind of meaning, no thriving sense to imbue every single action with a great purpose or significance. You did note, however that aside from the fact there was no fairness, no compensation, nor anything obvious in the actionless activity, there was in fact a kind of exploration. It was as if the action was the growing of a great tree, of a size beyond comprehension, where only the smallest possible glimpse was allowed. You were shown branches and roots extending deep into the Undiscovered, simply because they were so fully Enmasqued.

You never lost this vision, really, despite all you went through in your incarnation. When the burdens of this life became unbearable, and the tears flowed on their own, you always had that haunting notion that it was simply branches exploring, deep into the unknown.

The unmistakable stamp of this growing wasn’t really the changes as you went from small to a more substantial size. The oddest aspect of all was the mimicry. It felt so awkward, and so out of place to no longer know, but to struggle to attain based upon someone else’s constructions. This was your first lesson, that this world of manifestation had its own unspoken rules.

You were aware as you grew that others who stood in actionless activity observed you, quietly guiding your development. They let you discover, offering almost enough encouragement and assistance for you to formulate your direction, and test it upon the canvas of experience.

It was a memory that accompanied your every step.

*

The structure, the building was made of a material that followed its own tendencies. Around the open courtyard, the covered halls extended in natural expressions. You remember looking up into the open air, being held, small as you were, as an aged presence moved into view.

The quiet was shining through the woman’s deep green eyes. She turned as the master entered the room, his simple robes worn through to the weave in places. You could see the structure of the cloth whispering, flowing.

“He has been here before, Master. This much is quite clear. What is harder to discover is what he has returned for in this cycle.”

The Master nodded, his eyes upon you, as if sensing a colour he couldn’t quite read. It was how you lived this life, forever an expression of that which is never fully committed to memory.

You allowed yourself to be guided, to go to the place where the Nightland was the strongest, as you grew into adulthood. You would throw yourself upon the rich soil you once knew, gazing silently upwards to the heavens. The stars were huge, an immense luminosity, again so small as to be microscopic. You felt them pull. You stared in wonder, unsuspecting that this world would tumble, within such a very short time to forget them.

*

Doubtless much of the success of Star Wars was due to its lack of focus upon the deeper moving forces in the galaxy, it was effortless, keeping the mystical wrapped in the arms of mystery. Questions regarding life, purpose and existence were intentionally left open in order to appeal to an audience hungry for action and weapons technologies. Somehow, this boyish sense of being, clearly led by the great and almost imperceptible Force resonated with the audience of the late 1970s.

It was the correct move for widespread success. Mr. Lucas never explained, only claimed to tell his story. Obscure his purpose was in distilling ancient traditions, creating the Jedi out of Samurai and Templari, making them in a sense, expressions of divinity. Dr. Wilhelm Reich’s Orgone energy, Chi, Prana, Ondd, all different terms for the life energy, rendered simply by Mr. Lucas as The Force. Nor did he need to explain anything, since his vast audience was content to understand The Force simply as a feature of the galaxy.

On the surface, Star Wars is a great swashbuckling story, with a bit of afternoon soap opera tragedy thrown in. Yet the notion that there is this forgotten and demeaned group of people who tapped into the very flow of the galaxy, only to become a distant memory, is a very real echoe of the truth of these modern times.

The initial storytelling did not require a deep explanation for the Jedi, the Sith, or the Force. The obvious manipulative power wielded, being enough to demonstrate their reality. However, as the narrative grew more complex, it was clear there had to be a reason for the devotees of the Force to be so universally hated and rejected that they faced genocide, erasure. That reason arrived with the microscopic life forms that are the incarnate master of the galaxy, the Midi-Chlorians.

Here we arrive at perhaps the most controversial and suppressed perspective of modern times, that complex biology is not what dominates and achieves a unique and exalted status, it is the tiniest, the microscopic that is truly in charge. The argument that invisibly small organisms exert a god like control of more complex species has been covered by Jack Heart and Orage in their “Blood of Christ” series. It was posited by Dr Wilhelm Reich as a spontaneous manifestation of Orgone, his pre-WW2 experiments that revealed the Bion. It was first codified into philosophy thousands of years previous through the use of the word “Atom.” The microscopic is currently being studied by Cliff Carnicom as the entry point, the intentional introduction of synthetic biology into our living organic world.

*

The reaction, a visceral repulsion to the unveiling of Midi-Chlorians was swift and out of proportion to what it posited. It was a visceral rejection, based upon cherished notions vanishing forever into the abyss, replaced by a view that is universally condemned as horrible, a sort of National Socialism of World Views. Suddenly the Force was not something one understood purely via study. It was not some fancy predilection developed through dedication. The ability to perceive and utilize the Force was due to the concentration of microscopic organisms in one’s very cells, Midi-Chlorians.

Yet this terrible unholy proposition has many a foundation in the fragments of tradition that have travelled through time and insanity to echoe today, for those who have ears to listen. Should one travel through the halls of forbidden history, there is this hushed notion, one that is often referenced, concerning the idea that spiritual power is embodied. The spirit awakens within manifestation, not in some arcane dimension of space, but in the blood that courses, and the flesh itself.

Ancient rituals of cannibalism, as a means to absorb the victim’s personal power are recorded in the Americas as the final act after defeating an opponent, the Kakaram of the Jivaro, for example. Drinking the blood of Christ and eating his body is celebrated in Christianity; a vague recollection of similar practices throughout the region, where the very juices of the spiritual ones were offered with their flesh as a form of communion, such as with the Ophites. Ritual cannibalism clearly was a phenomenon across cultures and geographies, largely hidden from carefully cultivated modern sensibilities.

Such practices are quite old, dating back to the first gods of agriculture, if not even earlier, where Dionysus for example, was torn apart and devoured by the Titans. It has deep roots with the Corn God of the Maya, and the human sacrifice tradition of the Olmec who preceded them, where sustenance itself was aspected to divinity.

Thus it should come as no surprise that the mysterious bridge to the ever unfolding eternity, the Flow, the Tao is found not in the mind, certainly not in the rational, but in that quantum world of magic and possibility, incredibly tiny, yet immensely significant. The Gods of incarnation are Chthonic, as are the ancestors, the dead, and even the great will of creation, not to mention the negative entities of possession and slavery. It is what Dr. Reich was observing, when Orgone would create Bions spontaneously, quite outside of mathematical possibility.

This is the point where it probably becomes necessary to point out that devouring other people does not guarantee that one achieves anything other than a deserved reputation as a problem. It is never pointed out, for example, the kind of hideous projection that such individuals with these proclivities become in that finer light that isn’t usually directly visible. One will never own innocence by killing, consuming it, quite the opposite, actually. The empty ghosts of cannibals are not truly living, they are exocosmic, and will vanish into the vastness without awareness or identity.

This fate awaits many in these modern times, which is one reason why those who indulge in such appetites are becoming so vicious. They know they have traded everything for the temporary rush, as this fills them with a twisted blackness. Monsters do exist, really. They have an incurable illness.

However, we are not attempting to present a horror story. Our purpose is to arrive at a pre-abrahamic understanding for the rise and beingness of the very universe. The current understanding is the mathematical and language based theory that relies on certain repeatable laws, which then create suitable conditions. This view is widespread throughout modernity, from building Baseball stadiums, to religious theory. It is not limited to cosmology.

However, as unknown as it is, there is the experience of the living cosmos, a living universe, where there is a will and a definite direction to the complex question of incarnation, manifestation, and it is to this experience that the Midi-Chlorian relates.

What is the important takeaway here? The ancient and widespread belief that one’s body can become holy, like a Saint buried in a catacomb beneath a church, its continued existence exhudes a kind of aura upon the physical status of the building. Thus, the Bion, the Midi-Chlorian speaks of a complex relationship between the dead and the living.

In an organic cosmos, there is no protocol of entropy, as chaos is merely a feature, no stronger or lesser than order. Nor is there a great final extinction event, a fatal cooling that results in a purposeless, nihilistic ending. The microscopic universe is immediate, continually self generating. Time itself is a metamorphosis of the cyclic, which begets cycle upon cycle progressing and weaving within each other, with time informing the structure of manifestation. The organic cosmos is neither mathematic, nor language related. It is in fact, the continuing living manifestation of the bedrock of reality-that which can only be experienced, never described.

Mr. Lucas, either consciously, or intuitively revived this notion, which was to be his magnum opus, until Disney silenced him and forced his vision into some forgotten margin. Midi-Chlorians partake of a world view that is anything but monotheist. Microscopic control cannot belong to a centralized egotist consciousness, where the identity of the self that owns and creates its very own unique thoughts is so incredibly powerful that only One Thing can possibly be imagined to be greater, an even more mighty disembodied thinking ego, utterly free from the constraints of any body. That God then must be an anthropomorphic entity of massive size and scope, existing in some gaseous place with clouds and harps and wings.

Midi-Chlorians then, are very much like Bions, microorganisms which arise spontaneously out of the Cosmic Force to follow its will to express itself in the changing image of life. They glow with Cosmic Energy, and as directly emergent living beings they are sentient. A crude analogy might be Legos, those small bricks that when constructed correctly can make myriad complex forms. Yet unlike the Legos, Bions, Midi-Chlorians, are living organisms.

The view of the Organic Cosmos is one completely unavailable in the modern monotheistic tyranny. It is one where nuance and subtlety unlock shades and degrees of reality that are supra-significant, and fundamental to the navigation of that Cosmos. The mystic is within the mundane, and the mundane is informed through the mystic. It is a holistic, magnificent expression, congruent with the universe of fire described by Heraclitus. Midi-Chlorians, Bions, thus create a universe where the ultimate source of the manifest expression is fully held within it.

The dynamic then, is not linear, or even geometric, it is transformative. From the raw force, the Bion, the Midi-Chlorian spontaneously arises, aware, alive, a microscopic entity which binds with itself to fashion complex life. Every living form is ultimately an expression of life force. The living primal field, from which every being arises, call it the energy if one wishes, can influence all around it, an essential telepathy that conveys the unmanifest will.

The living field thus must offer its own return, its own manifestation, its gift back into the eternity simply as a feature of its own existence, a transformation that completes a circuit. In order for this circuit to be complete, for Ouroborous to devour itself, there must be the quality of awareness.

The awareness is born complete on the microscopic level, the essential expression is the awareness itself. Yet with the construction of complexity and its replication, the levels of perception naturally solidify at specific plateaus. The Bion, the Midi-Chlorian thus in concentration is the spontaneous living jungle that simply understands the force of creation, and through transformation both encompasses and transcends any possible plateau.

Thus the telegraph lines were plotted by dowsers who read the currents of energy.

Thus regions of dynamic living systems become the organs by which toxins are broken down and digested.

Thus to the rulers, the forests must be destroyed, because their living energy dampens and dead ends the beaming of waves that today are used for everything.

Thus alien intelligence has an immediate venue for influence.

Thus the living energy completing the circuit with the cosmic explains the phenomenon of egregore quite nicely.

You knew when you had arrived at the end of your incarnation. It wasn’t a matter of numbers, or the press of the years, it was in fact a very deep understanding that the role you had played was almost complete. Therefore, there was no rejection, or an attempt to hide from the weight of reality. The only question of any significance was if you were to manifest after death.

Honestly, you had not yet truly answered that question. You wrestled with it almost daily, as it arose with ever greater intensity. It wasn’t that it worried you, about completely disappearing. On a certain level you longed for the release from breathing.

Yet at the same time as the challenges and the petty vengeances of living were extremely tiring, they also provided an essential tension. It was almost certain that the overwhelming press of living at the end of a great cycling of time provided the ultimate measure for finding and honing the connection with the flow of the Cosmic Mystery.

Thus, you worked without reward or sense of profit to discover if indeed you could arrive at new, undreamed of places, and when you discovered them you paused in wonder, where the cascade of answers were the shining keys to deeper mysteries.

Cover Picture: Star Wars Brings Back Midichlorians And Makes Them Essential To Disney-Era Canon