The Story of the Cosmic Imagination

All of creation is a sea of frequencies. The existence of all living beings tell a story, or a collection of interconnected stories. Everything that happens happens because the creator of all wished it to be so, although the creator gave the creations free will. All of these metaphors say more or less the same thing in a different way. The is the world, and there is a guiding principle behind it. Whether you call the guiding principle God, the laws of nature, random chance, Infinite Consciousness or the Tao does not matter.

The movie The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus had a scene where a group of monks, in Tibet I believe, were telling a story. They believed the world will cease to exist if they stop reciting the story. (This idea has been presented elsewhere as well, but the movie is the best example I remember.) However, the devil, or some bad guy (it’s been a few years since I saw it so everything is a bit fuzzy) killed them or somehow prevented the monks from telling the story, but the world didn’t end. One of the monks realized it’s not them who are telling the story, but someone else. That is basically how I interpret the meaning of life to be: a story. Each individual’s life is supposed to be a story, the same goes for every town, nation, planet and universe. A story is supposed to be interesting. That is basically it. Being interesting means different things to different people. It might require action, romance, mystery, political intrigue, shifting of vast geological masses over the course of millennia, entering astral worlds and so on. All of creation is a story in the cosmic imagination, or the mind of God.

What is creation? How does one create? The way I see it creation is not about expanding possibilities but limiting them. Let me explain. Take a blank piece of paper. Look at it. It is empty; meaning infinite possibility. When you draw or write something on it, you give it meaning, but you also limit the infinite. You, in a way, cut pieces of the infinite into finite pieces, yet hoping to make something beautiful. Take the blank slate and draw a stick figure on it. You are telling a story. There is a person. You add a red bow tie it. Now it’s a girl. You draw mountains, lakes and animals around the girl. A small hut next to her. You have created something, a character and her surrounding, but the paper is no longer blank. It no longer signifies infinite possibility. The infinite possibility has not become non-existent, though. The infinite cannot be made finite, it has been only obscured by form.

This is how, according to my understanding, the world is structured. In the beginning, or before there was such a concept as a beginning, there was only infinite possibility. Then somehow the possibility gave birth to form, be they geometrical forms, though forms or other kinds of forms in another question. Eventually the forms started forming bigger clusters of meaning. Mind became a form. The Australian Aborigine Dreamtime probably fits in here somewhere. In the course of time matter came to be and so on.

We, as human beings, exist in one tiny spot in this cosmic story, a living myth, in the sea of frequencies. And we tend to like what we are and how we live, or at least prefer it to other unknown possibilities that we cannot quite fathom. Our minds cannot fathom things that are outside of the frequency/story we live in. Or if we are forced to face it, we react with fear or hostility. I’ve heard the expression “like likes like” relating to physics or something. If we consider ourselves material secular Christian Western flesh and blood human beings, and someone tells us it’s just an interpretation of what we are we have to dismiss them as crazy or dangerous in order to keep being, as like likes like. We like being what we like and like being with other who like what we like. However, if we experience that we are something other than the flesh and blood humans, then we become one of the dangerous ones, as to most of us reality is either what we experience or what we are told we experience. Something that tells another story is a grievous threat.

I drew a picture ( a beautiful work of art) illustrating our place in the sea of frequencies. Earth is in the bottom left corner, with things alien, yet somehow fathomable to us around it. There are ghosts, spirits, aliens and gods around it. We don’t quite understand what they are, yet we can at least ask the question what they are, or are they real. Beyond that are things our minds cannot even begin to decode for us.


Perhaps this sounds nonsensical. Lets look at it another way. Most of us flesh and blood human being live on a certain physical level above ground which is an X number of meters/yards above sea level. If we go deep down into the sea the pressure changes which is harmful for us. If we dive down there too fast we can even die from the change in pressure. If we go high up in the air, the air is thin. If we go higher there is the stratosphere and those things preventing us from leaving the planet. In space we cannot even breathe. We are sort of designed to live on a single level, physically, spiritually, socially and mentally. However, ingenious and creative people have come up with ways of circumventing these limitations. People can dive deep in the oceans and go into space, even though it’s dangerous. Yet the more we do it, the easier it eventually becomes. Which is what, I believe, we should be doing. We should be pushing the boundaries.

In our society it is normal to push the boundaries of our physical capabilities by inventing new technological gadgets. Therefore we are not really pushing the boundaries anymore, since it’s become commonplace to do it. For us, it is important to push the boundaries of our spiritual understanding, the boundaries of social habits and our mental capabilities. That is where we are stagnant. We have an innate desire to remain where we feel comfortable, but hopefully the inner yearning for spiritual development is stronger. When you are in the center of your little world, you feel safe and satiated, yet we want to venture out. To boldly go where no-one has gone before and all that. I find it somehow telling that the greatest tension on a flame in space on the boundaries, not the center.

Space flame:


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