Ultimately, yes - well of course every psychedelic trip offers this space but not each trippant is capable of living, being there. Most get ‘bad trips’ at first – the two approaches to truth and power which form that logical dichotomy and mystical whole can be seen as two doorways that enter the same space (that which is thus beyond both truth and power, uniting them) and have to be entered at once in order to enter the, um, dragon.
And then of course I read Bruce Lee
for sure. What are your thoughts of the Lacanian Real on this, is it related to that mass which subjects by its irrational vitality which cant be penetrated by truth, which cant be employed? Is this connected to deep layers of the mind, theta wave, massive interpersonal conjectures and echo’s of that which is known as truth?
Truth is like a gong that makes the cave known to itself as a space. It is not the sound, but the gong itself. The sound is released by truth and we can follow the sound to the gong. But it is not easy as the cave has many chambers which all resound the gong as if they hold its presence, some even more powerfully than the home of the gong itself.
The hidden chamber.
It turns out as you approach te gong you find a kid with an arrow in his shoulder, lying there unconsciously pale with fever. He is dreaming all of what you’re doing. He struck the gong.
Yes, as deterrents as much as reminders, scarecrows which become godlike figures of their own, evoking the fear is as much as evoking the god in the sense of “gaud”, that which can be evoked, in the non mystical, purely psychological sense, in the sense that doesn’t expect to be understood. Much of life’s art is just reminding ourselves of the god - the suggestion is plenty to trigger the immanent into bursts of transcendence which can be sensed in terms of the light sense of power, subtle electricity, tingling health; the utmost crest of nature is the full explication of the suggestion into dance, in a whirl of playful denial of truth itself; allowing truth to keep seducing us as we are replenished every Planck tick by our autonomy before truth, our power to take it or leave it.
This power is not truth. It’s not even will, it’s consciousness of consciousness, it’s not the void and it’s not god, it’s man, more precisely, woman.