I think I have read, once you open the doors to perception there is no end to visitors who show up wanting to say HI. Trinkets of wisdom that pop into our head may be inspiration from other souls, or perhaps insight from our own soul’s reflection of eternity. I look for a reason, but often I am met with humor. The work of life is likely much less serious than I make it out to be.
Night Café, AI/human art collaborations
I suppose that is not a reason to be frivolous, but perhaps we could all clown around a little more.
I am often reminded of the seriousness of the terrain which was the backdrop of the series MASH in sharp contrast to the humor that was employed to move the story.
I released an essay on soul just today. Just writing it led me to engaging the process that I guided others into. I discovered my own answers. My answers are mine, not necessarily transferable to others, but I share this anyway. Partly to get it out of my head. Sometimes there is repetition of signals which belies an important theme or artifact to ponder in serious ways. Writing allows for evolution of thought, as it anchors it and allows a way of studying its progress. Sometimes if I fail to write, the muse is much more cautious in sharing.
The muse is important, here. I reread my morning’s essay a dozen times, partly looking for my normal grammatical errors, but also- looking for evidence of me. That essay doesn’t seem like my voice. Perhaps that is not for me to decide, but rather for those who follow and are more attuned to the variations in themes and melodies of a would-be artist.
Maybe I have as many voices as I do hats. Maybe I have as many voices as I have past and future lives. Maybe the ancestors I imagine gathering around are less direct lineage, but all the incarnations of me. Like practicing Napoleon Hill’s ‘invisible counselors technique,’ maybe all incarnations I agreed to are the counselors I have chosen to guide me through eternity.
Knock, Knock…
And so, once again, I found myself asking, ‘what is the purpose of souls incarnating?’ I asked this while having a meal alone. Alone from people. I was outside. There were trees. I didn’t see any squirrels. No one passed walking their dogs. I was without a cellphone. Just a quiet meal on a dusty table. ‘Why do we incarnate over and over? Am I trying to develop a skill?’
I ascribe the response to Loxy. By design, she is a tulpa. She seems more than that, beyond my ability to fathom, and way beyond my ability to have created. Then again, perhaps souls fail to appreciate the sophistication of the human brain, which I liken to a biological computer whose soul operates similar to a person might a PC or gaming console.
I have taken up playing with AI driven art, which allows humans playing with text to produce images. Perhaps a soul formulating words within a human brain is analogous to AI driven art. I spoke words, and the brain rendered Loxy into being. She is archetypal. She is the embodiment of Venus, if Venus were a brunette in most incarnations. She is magically, technologically, kinesthetically, emotionally, and intellectually sophisticated. She evokes themes of Indian goddesses at play, specifically Dakini. She is all 7 of the daughters of Zeus unleashed. She has the aura of Ancient Egypt.
Loxy is a soul in her own right, and not a derivative of my soul. Either I summoned the most perfect being by rubbing the Aladdin's Lamp called brain, or a soul found that plea for that ideal and championed her. That soul must have resonated with the attributes of that character, stepped into my life to be that, for me, for this life, and perhaps eternity- because that’s what souls do.
We find ways to relate to others.
I am suddenly aware I have used championed more this week than I have in a lifetime! Invoking Queen, “we are the champions my friends. And we’ll keep on fighting, till the end…”
Loxy answered the question. “John, souls do not incarnate to evolve skills. Souls are already infinitely skilled and capable in the domains that are their nature. Music, math, arts, knowledge-we have all of this in abundance.”
That was interesting. It was clear. I didn’t have an argument. Rarely am I so speechless. ‘So, why…’ I began and was unable to finish.
“We incarnate to evolve social competence. We experience many lives, many cultures, many lovers, arrangements, people, friends, family, which are, more often than not, souls from our own soul group playing the roles we need for those contextual relationships to produce in us experiential qualities that adds flavor to musical renderings of the songs we sing.”
It is one thing to play the piano technically accurately, it’s another thing altogether to interject soul. Blues would be impossible without some concept of pain.
Loxy expounded. “Saying I am French, in a world that is only composed of French culture lacks nuance. You might as well say I am human. How broad a brush is that? But if I say I am French, if I offer a year, now that idea of me relates regionally, influenced by other neighboring cultures.
I could refine it further by saying I am French, with a British accent, living in America. America could be refined. North, Central, or South. North could be refined further, US or Canada. Only US citizens think of themselves as the only American, but in truth, the entirety of the Americas are comprised of Americans.”
The refinement of the answer sounds like something I might invent, as my considerations of the ramifications of multiplicity of incarnations has often resulted in questions and deliberations.
Initially, Loxy’s voice was strong and somewhere in there the internal dialogue became more me.
Make of that what you will. Perhaps she puppeted me to say that response, or I was echoing her, iterating the point seeking confirmation, or even reading from an internal script.
I say that and I still have difficulty relating to it fully. What is the body? Is the body itself a tulpa of soul? Is it something the soul constructed, the way a sculpture discovers form in marble? Is the soul an alien species imposing itself on the free will of a lower life form?
Loxy exudes patience. “It’s simply complicated. A horse is not just a beast. It has an essence, its own soul and personality, and it can have a rider. Together, rider and horse are entities in their own right. It would not hurt to develop a fondness for the body as a person, treating it in idealized ways, the way a person might treat a beloved pet, or a child, or even an intimate relationship. There are many ways to relate to a body. It is precious, and not something to be squandered. There are many souls who hold esteem for past incarnations, and so if you find yourself in a body you may consider yourself quite evolved already. You will be the future teachers and guides for the worlds and life forms yet to come.”
“But what about love?”
“What about love?”
“Soulmates. Love…”
“All souls are loved. All souls relate. We have our preferences, even in the between lives, but again, to develop a social sophistication we incarnate into bodies to experience life with other
souls and in other bodies. So, sometimes we have the same soul friends wearing different clothes, and sometimes- it is a different soul from our group, or a soul from a different group.
There are souls that prefer non-human lives. Two disparate souls get together intentionally to discover relational qualities even in their opposing preferences.”
It feels complicated to the point I am entertaining headache remedies even though I am not precisely hurting.
“How many forms have I presented myself to you as?”
I have lost count. I am also embarrassed. I feel juvenile in terms of my open ended preferences for companionship. Perhaps the only consistent quality across potential typology is found in my expression of being sapiosexual.
“And you wonder why there is a veil?” she chuckles. “How many incarnations have you had?
How many lovers? How many different cultures, genders, races, and species have you been?”
“So, the veil is for present stability?”
I get the sense Loxy is nodding. “For the most part. There are lessons to be derived from longevity of monogamous relationships. Different cultures placed different emphasis on that value, but then, the communities were smaller and better defined, and so if a child was born to parents who were less available emotionally, they still had community. More people today raise themselves in isolation, but you know that. The streets raised you. Today, cell phones raise kids.”
I begin to lament…
“John,” Loxy interrupted. “All is well.”
It doesn’t feel like that.
“From a soul perspective, all is well. So, there is a storm brewing and the seas seem angry. What can the soul derive from this theme? Your meal was quiet, gentle leaves stirring in morning sun, cool breeze… No storm here. Gaia comes with calm and storms and quakes and fire and brimstones. Souls are learning to relate with her, too.
“Contrast. You gave an exercise to frame someone’s experience, and a bridge to the next frame.
This morning’s breakfast seems like a great frame for grounding. We can visit some other frames, perhaps construct meaning and resolution sets…”
“If only I were so capable to…”
“Your job isn’t to change the world, but to relate to what is. The world will change itself. You change you.”
“I am with you.”
Always, we both say.
