Galaxian
The Secret of Man
Prologue
From a free-floating point of God-like awareness, the barred spiral galaxy appears at first glance to be nothing more, or less, than a tiny dot of
light not bigger than a single grain of sand when viewed within the context of the entire cluster of galaxies known, on Earth, as ‘the local
group’. There are, in fact, at least as many galaxies in the entire cosmos as there are individual stars in the average spiral galaxy, numbering in
the order of two trillion (don’t listen to Earth astronomers they don’t know what they’re talking about) and if that weren’t enough, there are
more stars contained in all the Galaxies of the Heavens than there are individual grains of sand on all the beaches, and in all the deserts, on the
face of an average earth-like planet. But from our unique perspective, such considerations are irrelevant. Zeroing in, the individual Galaxy known
both on Earth as well as in Heaven (mankind being more influential in the naming of things than has been previously assumed) as “The Milky Way”,
slowly, inexorably, fills our field of awareness, the vast expanses of pure black-on-black space between the myriad of galaxies chasing away all but
one - as the great bulging disc of dust, gas, and innumerable stars, forming four distinct arm structures spiralling outward in a logarithmic swirling
seashell shape, becomes the sole object of our attention.
Moving at multiple times the speed of light (for God-like awareness all things are possible) and after a smooth but rapid magnification, we are, as we
approach the galactic disc, once again confronted with an almost incalculable number of bright points of light; any one of which, should sentient life
happen to dwell upon the surface of one or more of its planets or moons, might consider its own perspective, according to the strong anthropic
principal and the miracle of self conscious awareness, to be THE “center of the universe”, at right angles both to everything that is, and to the
nothingness from which everything has arisen and has its being. To the uninitiated or to the untrained observer in the school of all things cosmic,
however, it might appear, for the moment at least, that through some fantastic, self-referential recurrence, we have, yet again arrived where we first
started – the vast array of lights, like their galactic predecessors, so numerous in number, and so utterly vast in scope, that differentiating any
one from among the multitude, would seem an utterly pointless endeavour, or, at best, a totally random selection devoid of any meaning or purpose.
Undaunted, and for all intents and purposes, setting them all aside for the moment, except one, as if in the midst of this entire miasma of cosmic
creativity, this multidimentional, multifaceted expression of an infinite wonder, something or some where in particular, warrants our immediate
attention for reasons perhaps yet obscure - our focal point of awareness now plunges headlong into the stellar whirlpool, while layer upon layer of
globulous nebula and gaseous fogs, many laden with the building blocks of new life and new creation, hurl by our apparent location at breathtaking
speeds. Like an arrow of will and intentionality, our focal point of God-like awareness, beginning, as always, with the end in mind, slices through
the domain of boundless possibility, in favour of one and only one destination.
Emerging from the clouds of dust and gas, we enter a star studded realm of heavenly hosts, many encircled by worlds, some dead, some living, and some,
thinking, and dreaming, and we begin to feel the tug of our heart’s innermost desire and the object of our attachment at this present moment in the
grand scheme of things. With a perfect will, and with a sense of urgency unhurried by the timeless realm of all possibility, we move forth, traversing
the arc of the wispy filament of the fourth arm of the Milky Way Galaxy counter-clockwise and at right angles to its natural rotation, or, to quote a
line from Biblical prophesy “on the clouds of the heavens from East to West”, the innumerable suns now serenely gliding us by, individually and
collectively, as if we are travelling at “warp factor three” aboard the Starship Enterprise to borrow from fiction what objective reality simply
cannot express in words. At last, as we approach the sun of choice, at a location approximately midway along an errant filament in the foreshortened
outcropping of the second outer arm of the galactic disc, our free floating point of awareness is now joined by Spirit, since there can be no
awareness absent the presence of Being, and because Spirit ultimately knows everything already, including the reason for this particular journey as
well as it’s pre-destination. Sol - on the one hand isolated in so many ways by all the others due to a simple misunderstanding, and on the other,
so intrinsically at the very heart of it all.
Out of the blackness of infinite space, Earth`s sun now rises up and into our full scope of awareness. In an instant, an unfathomably deep wellspring
of love and nostalgia, and the sweet, sad melancholy of a great homecoming, swells the heart to the full, even unto overflowing, the emerging waves of
love and compassion emanating from this particular moment in space-time forever reverberating through all the spheres and eternity like a great cosmic
spiritual tsunami of the farthest reaching proportion and significance.
At last, we stop, at a distance from the sun of approximately _____, and there, from about one lunar distance away, we behold, with unimaginable love
and effection, the final object of our desire, our love, our creative impulse, and there, we weep, as Jesus once wept over the city of Jerusalem not
so long ago. There is no judgement in this weeping, and no regret, only the weeping of a pure and loving heart, the weeping of the sympathetic
sufferer. To grieve before this world is only appropriate in this instance, for here is the place of ALL places, from which have arisen and continue
to arise, like an eternal wellspring of sympathetic love, both the deepest of sorrows, and the highest of joys, either of which can easily move a
beholder to tears.
The angels, having kept their silence until now, remaining in a suspended state of wonder and awe, suddenly erupt in song, and, in a unison, and
harmony, of absolute perfection, they sing God’s praises, yet again, as they did when He was laying the very foundations of the Earth, and then
again one other time not so very long ago.
From her short (but safe) distance away, the precious bright blue pearl of Earth slowly turns, as she has since her founding. Like a bride awaiting
the bridegroom, she eagerly awaits the sound of His voice, and longs to see His smiling face when He lifts her veil of tears. But she too weeps,
through the eternally unfolding present moment on account of the continued separation from her lover, due of course, in no small part, to the curse
and fall of man. It is an unbearable sorrow and burden to carry alone (if she only knew how very close her suitor is and the extent and degree to
which she alone is His beloved). Unperturbed, the angelic singing continues to resound throughout the spheres, as if her sorrow and suffering, at one
end of the spectrum, and his unfathomable love at the other, forms the conductor’s baton or staff, with which this particular hymn is being
directed. And oh what singing it is! There are simply no words to describe it! Pure JOY set to music, sung with the spirit of the universe, the “one
song”. Truly I say there’s nothing more wonderful, either on Earth or in Heaven above. Even God finds it among the most pleasing thing to His
ears, next only, perhaps, to the first cries of a human baby at his or her birth.
___ light years away, within the hollow capstone of a giant pyramid constructed of gold and other elements, on a planet circling an infamous star very
near the galactic core (much too close for comfort in fact), the sound of the angels’ singing reverberates through the central pillar of his temple
also known as the ‘Apex’, striking absolute terror into the heart of the Enlightened One. Hurredly snatching up his own wand-like instrument,
which, in another age long gone might very well have served him as an angelic orchestra conductor, and, with two hands removing his beastly headgear
(replete with massive horns), he hastily exits the tabernacle of the Apex, or what might be thought of as the central power and processing unit of his
entire galactic empire. For him there is much to be done, and failure is simply not an option. “Damn them!” he bellows through the upper halls and
catacombs of the massive structure in a loud barratone, “God, and his planet of apes! Damn them all to HELL!” never realizing of course in the
blindness of his jealous rage and terror, the fundamental word of truth in the saying “and as ye measure out, so shall ye receive in kind”.
[edit on 18-5-2009 by OmegaPoint]