Of Ill-Conceived Fantasies

          It had not been my intention to write another script on the illusions of life. I thought I had said, if not all, then enough on the subject. This journey through the 'dark night', that seems to describe my current experience, appears to be offering me the gift of recollection from which I may make some progress, whatever that is, towards reality. And this gift must be exercised using my own experiences, my own hard-won truths, for I cannot touch reality through the eyes of another, unless that other is my own Higher Self. What follows is an extract from my current diaries, looking at the nature of my experience of the world around and within me, which in so many ways is the same thing. It is perhaps the nearest I can get at this time, to speaking from the heart rather than the head.
          I look at the world around me, the universe around me, the inner psycho-spiritual country within me, but what do I see? I see an incompleteness, limited by my own physicality, my own sensing organs. Even with the use of scientific instruments I do not see a complete universe because there is always the view of the universe in terms of quantum mechanics that lies forever beyond me. Even if I should gain total seeing, it would always be against the backdrop of my intellectual understanding, and that would colour everything I see. I would not be seeing the universe through the eyes of an innocent.
          Putting all that to one side, I see what I see with an emotionally and historically coloured backdrop. I never get to see the world as it may truly be. I have no true vision. It is like a dream in that I can experience delights and nightmares, and those are my judgements on the world. Thus that world can have no real meaning for me until I actually get to 'see' it. One cannot truly see until one stops sleeping and dreaming and becomes awake and aware. It is also from this illusory standpoint that I observe the actions of others, draw conclusions, and take actions. Not only do I see all that through my own veil of ill-conceived fantasies, but also seemingly unaware that those whom I observe are also operating through their own fantasies. There can be no truth here so long as I sleep. And in the past, those experiences have been extremely damaging, so much so that I have been forced into a state of awakening. But how often have I dozed, or fallen asleep, since then?
          Another way of looking at the same condition is that what I see as my interactions with the world around me is nothing more than my own inner projections, and the human race is very good at blindly projecting itself onto its environment. Yet it is these projections that I seek to understand without realising that because they are projections and not reality, they can have no meaning, except that which I impose on them at my convenience. At no time is reality actually confronted until I, through painful experience, am forced to look hard and in a wakeful state for my own psycho-spiritual survival. Until that moment of spiritual awakening comes, I struggle to maintain my projected fictions as truth. Thus when I get hurt, I blame something/someone 'out there' rather than the projecting of myself, my ego. There is a little nugget of wisdom that says that blaming others is a sign of psychological denial. But those 'others' are not real; they are my projections, even though I struggle to the limit of my strength to persuade myself that my egoistic illusions are in fact realities. What a strange and foolish world it is that allows projections, illusions, to interact with one another rather than realities. Isn't life difficult enough already?
          Thus these conclusions, drawn from the memories of my own experience, lead me to the point where I yearn to see the world, that psycho-spiritual inner country that I inhabit, through the eyes of my Higher Self, the closest I can conceive to a state of wakeful reality, for I believe that by its very nature the Higher Self never sleeps. It is always aware, above all, of the power and energy of the divine life force that flows through it.

"............This is the use of memory:
For liberation - not less of love but expanding
Of love beyond desire, and so liberation
From the future as well as the past. Thus love of a country
Begins as attachment to our own field of action
And comes to find that action of little importance
Though never indifferent. History may be servitude,
History may be freedom. See, now they vanish,
The faces and places, with the self which, as it could, loved them,
To become renewed, transfigured, in another pattern."

(T.S.Eliot: Little Gidding - Four Quartets)