Quantum Enlightenment: First Contact

Hello? Hello?
Hello there? Is anyone at all there?
Is anybody out there
thinking, acting, being, saying,
planning, living, loving, caring,
savouring each moment
as if it was forever?

Or is it all,
perhaps,
happening as we speak,
and Reality breaks
through the Illusion.
Aum.

A Toast for Autumn

It was cool on the verandah this morning. I had on my Commissionaire’s Three-Season jacket, so I was cool, in my own way. The autumn sun was shining through the haze down the harbour, and reflected in a harbour of burnished silver. The wind was northwest, and had a lot to say to the jackpines, who acted just a little giddy. Ranger sat on the eastern step of the verandah, overlooking the cove, and the place where the Torii will be: his devotion to the concept is inspiring. It was a perfect autumn day, wild, different, ever-changing. I saluted the season, and my Canada, with half a glass of Merlot.

May the autumn of my years
be like the autumn on my Shore:
headstrong and proud,
      tempestuous,
but sometimes
      possessed
of a strange
      triumphant
           beauty

.....and a period of
      perfect calm......

and then do it all over,
      yet differently,
      each and every
           Time.

Aum.

A Morning Walk in Late Summer, and a Lesson Taught

Walking with my dog this morning,
with fluffy cumulus clouds
scudding in the cool southeast breeze,
a lesson was given.

I wanted to stride,
to cover road,
to increase my pulse,
but the beagle insisted,
again and again,
that we take the time
to appreciate each fresh smell,
each clump of autumn vegetation,
and enjoy our Now.

Getting further down the road
was not being on our walk:
here and now was where we were,
and he was adamant
that I understand
the concept
of Being,
fully,
in this moment.

The day became more perfect
as I gradually understood
the importance of the lesson:
colours brightened,
the breeze became more sensual,
the texture of the road
showed myriad complex patterns,
and the morning stood still.

Thank you, Sensei,
lesson well taken,
...and well taught.

Late Summer Morning, and Other Dimensions

The dog had been feeling his age,
and curled up at the man’s feet,
feeling the heat of the shrinking sun.

The early morning light
had that brazen quality to it
that seems typical
of early autumn,
or the flames of Natraj’s Circle.

The fog shimmered down the harbour,
granting a lover’s caress
to the willing shore.

The dog thought of dinner time,
and favourite scents,
and pack.

The old man thought of the different dimensions
vibrating at the quanta level,
making us tenants
in Realities that we cannot yet see.

Echoes in the Fog

Driving over Lighthouse Hill
the fog awaited like a long-lost friend.
The old road by Betty’s Cove,
cloaked with alders,
whispered remembered sighs
of lovers’ trysts,
now long past.

Roll Burke’s garage shimmered,
just at the edge of memory,
with a remembered scent of gasoline,
and the heady teenaged joy
of pin-up calendar girls.

Marion’s Whatnot Shop sang its siren song
of China-made curios
for the infrequent tourists,
and the exciting birthday purchases
of children, spending hoarded
nickles and dimes.

At Wilfred’s Store long-dead giants
sat on nail kegs,
and discussed politics and weather,
haloed by the smoke from hand rolled Zigzag tobacco,
sweetened by the odd “tailor-made”
of the more affluent fishermen.
Penny candy, a cheddar wheel,
overhead cone of string
for tying brown paper wrapped packages,
bags of chips, and chocolate bars,
gave forth a psychedelic glow
in the minds of the children
picking up packages for Shirley,
Aunt Maude, or Grandmother Lottie.

Down the hill, the ghost of Gammon’s Store,
with weather-worn orange shingles,
gave forth remembered smells
of handline, Leckie’s boots,
and oilskins.
A small boy rowed happily across the cove,
to tie up expertly at the end of the wharf,
speaking to Syd Burke,
and exchanging greetings with Jim Henderson.

The cove was full of boats,
and ringed with wharves,
each with its own unique boatshed,
and a constant miasma 
of creosote and barrels of lobster bait.
The trap boats flanked the fishplant jetty,
and adventuring boys clambered over them,
examining sea eggs,
and other exotica.

The lobster factory steamed its way
into our collective history,
with noisy bustle
and a fragrant cloud of boiling lobster.
The wooden breakwater was sturdy,
safely sheltering the industrious cove,
and the good people working there.

Off through the fog, the sharp sound
of a “one-lunger” single piston fishing boat
disturbed the gulls
preaching on the fishplant roof.

A sudden ray of sunlight
pierced the fog,
bringing me back to the present,
and the depleted village
that made all of us,
in very large part,
who we are today. 

The Nature of Reality

I have recently read "The Dancing Wu Li Masters (An Overview of the New Physics)" by Gary Zukav, an incredible book that presents an overview of quantum mechanics in layman's terms. It is an eye-opener that affirms some of what I have been trying to say with my work "Jim's Guide to Enlightenment: The Complete Sutras", e.g. there appears to be a strong connection between portions of some Eastern religions and quantum physics.
For example: Sutra 3: See your reality for what it is, not for what you think it is: this is the first step to making your reality what you wish it to be.

Sutra 52: Multiple realities are a fact. A different reality exists for each of us. I am not the same in your reality as I am in mine.

Sutra 93: Do not speak to me of Reality: it is a personal concept that varies with the Observer.

Imagine my joy, then, upon reading the following passage:
"The languages of eastern mystics and western physicists are becoming very similar.
Newtonian physics and quantum mechanics are partners in a double irony. Newtonian physics is based upon the idea of laws which govern phenomena and the power inherent in understanding them, but it leads to impotence in the face of a Great Machine which is the universe. Quantum mechanics is based upon the idea of minimal knowledge of future phenomena (we are limited to knowing probabilities) but it leads to the possibility that our reality is what we choose to make it." (Bolded italics are mine)

It is a joyous occasion when one discovers that conclusions that are reached after a lifetime of reading and observation have simultaneously and separately been reached by others. 

Peace, and

Namaste

Wizard, Walking His Dog

The morning transformed us:
the path through the pines
became a glowing portal,
and we were gone.

The Wizard was alert:
the Dog sensed it
and voiced his concern.
The Path led through
shaded glades,
with just a hint of strange movement
within the shifting shadows.

Dog bristled,
stern warnings in his throat,
prompting the Wizard
to chant an arcane, but powerful,
spell to counter Chaos.
Waves roughened the darkening cove,
obscene shapes showing
through the foaming crests.

     Suddenly a sharp crack...
     the smell of ozone.

We picked up the Thursday flyers
from the foot of the driveway,
and, as the dog was exhausted,
sat on the verandah
     for a Time.

An Echo of the Sixties

The vibration of the Third Eye Chakra
gave a shimmering orange neon edge
     to the Reality of
     the quiet hill.

The jackpines meditated,
     and focussed
on the gentle sigh of their breathing;
the South Wind whispering
     tropical secrets
          of moonlight romance.

The shadows skipped
               forward
          and
      back,
as though we were stuck
     in a time loop:
an Escher mobiüs strip
     of Eternity.

Truth beckoned,
just an illusion away,
as Cosmic meaning
was revealed.

     This.

     Now.

Brane Storm

A Brief Introduction to Brane Theory

The central idea is that the visible, three-dimensional universe is restricted to a brane inside a higher-dimensional space, called the "bulk" (also known as "hyperspace"). If the additional dimensions are compact, then the observed universe contains the extra dimensions, and then no reference to the bulk is appropriate. In the bulk model, at least some of the extra dimensions are extensive (possibly infinite), and other branes may be moving through this bulk. Interactions with the bulk, and possibly with other branes, can influence our brane and thus introduce effects not seen in more standard cosmological models. ~Wikipedia

Brane Storm

A slight brushing sound,
and the jackpine was surrounded
with a crackling 
                          ferocious 
                                          blue electric aura:
sentient, living, feeling,
it communicated with its peers
in the small grove
on a sacred Hill.

Their light pulsed with wild appreciation
as they exchanged stories
with a visible orange breeze
that smelled of lime,
and spoke 
with a wind-chime voice.

A heavy grey luminescence
cloaked boulders in the garden,
enabling the earth to speak
with deep
               with resounding
                                         with echoing
voice,  
reflecting an inner joy,
communicated 
                        by 
                            harmonic 
                                   vibration.

All of this then,
only a brush away,
a brane away,
and only partly aware
of the old man,
and his dog,
watching, enchanted,
from the Reality
next Door.

Entanglement As Instruction

In this Reality
it was a foggy day,
     with misty droplets
     shimmering...   luminous
in the morning air.

My beagle pondered
entanglement theory
as we listened,
     enchanted,
to the infinite
names of Truth
     sighing through the pines.

Other Realities pulsed,
just beyond sight:
an ambulance screams
     across a cove so tranquil
that the sole loon is embarrassed
     by his laugh.

...and a small blue-green bubble
floated,
invisible,
through a cosmos too vast
to be called
     god.