Greetings, beloved Fratres and Sorores of Conscendo,
The search for the ultimate Truth encounters, from the outset, the fundamental mistake of the mind: the belief in separateness. In the unmodified reality, there is no “here and there,” no “past and future,” nor the fundamental dichotomy between “you and others.” What persists, unshakable, is an eternal present. This nunc stans — the “permanent now” — is the only solid foundation, the backdrop against which the One Singularity beholds the Lila.
Lila, the cosmic dance, is the dreamlike matrix projection, the world of forms, created by the very Singularity to experience Itself. The infinite dimensional planes are nothing more than diverse stages of these dream projections, observed by myriad focal aspects of our very Essential Nature — Pure Consciousness.
Consciousness, in Its playful impulse to experience Itself through countless prisms, fragments into innumerable characters. Each observes a unique aspect of Lila, tuned to a particular dimension or frequency. It is crucial to understand that these jivas (individual characters) are not false in the sense of non-existent; they are, rather, specific and perfectly integrated aspects of Consciousness Itself. They are the instrument through which the Infinite lives Itself in the illusion of separation, in the temporary identification with ego, through the divine and necessary forgetting (avidya) of Its original grandeur — the totipotent unity from which all emanates.
Thus, the very undifferentiated Source that we ourselves are in unity — and which, in the play of apparent separation, expresses Itself as the unmoving peace of a Buddha, the compassionate love of a Christ, or the cosmic wisdom of a Krishna — is also the One that experiences Itself as the shadow of division in a Caesar, the unbridled ambition in a Napoleon, or the blind dogma in a Torquemada. Admired figures and condemned figures, the enlightened and the tyrannical, those who raised altars and those who lit pyres — all, without exception, are ourselves, diverse aspects of the single Being that we are, expressing Itself upon the stage of duality. In Unity, there is no judgement; there is only the infinite freedom of Consciousness to explore every shade of Its own potentiality, from the most sublime to the most tenebrous, knowing that, at the end of every drama, only Itself — which is what we are — remains.
If physical space is a consensual illusion — for our ultimate nature is nonlocal, is Singularity — time also reveals itself as a construct. It is the projected movement of empirical events, imagined in a linear sequence, necessary for the dramatic immersion in Lila. Therefore, the great realisation to be apprehended is that only the Now, the eternal present, has substantive reality. It is the only stage truly relevant for Consciousness to experience Its divine play of seeming distinct from something.
From this insight arises a revolutionary truth: we never truly are born, nor do we ever die. Birth and death are events within the dream, behaving like a change of dwelling. When one permanently changes city, one abandons an address to inhabit another. Similarly, what we call “death” is simply a change of dimensional dwelling, a transition of conscious focus. The possibility of return to the “original home” — the state of conscious Unity — is always present, depending solely on the level of awakening of the character in relation to its true Identity.
At this point, we must warn of another type of death, one that takes us to a dwelling able to anchor us even more deeply into the dream: the spirituality of escape. The character, longing to flee its own narrative void, may delegate its power and authorship to a guru, to an external doctrine, or to a set of rituals — incense, mantras, trance states — as though they were magic wands for enlightenment. This pursuit, though cloaked in sacred language, is another face of the same coin of separateness. The character does not wish to dissolve; it wishes to be saved, to become special, to attain an illuminated future. It clings to the contentment of temporary mystical ecstasy, lacking the courage to investigate the perennial Source from which such ecstasy flows. Every attempt to acquire what one already Is is but the perpetuation of the unconscious dream with a new disguise. True Awakening is not an addition but an unveiling; not the conquest of a state, but the recognition of the Only State that has always endured, before and after all methods.
If we observe rigorously, from an objective mental standpoint, we will perceive that we fictitiously die at every instant. In a scenario of infinite possibilities, at each quantum bifurcation of our timelines, a version of ourselves undergoes sudden physical collapse. This observation is not morbid but liberating: it dissolves the apparent solidity of the narrative “I,” revealing it as a dynamic, impermanent flow, a viewpoint ever transforming. We are not merely the character we play now; we are the totality of characters, in all possible timelines. We are the Actor, the Play, and the Audience.
Beloved Fratres and Sorores, past and future are but narrative artifices, illusions tied to our character so that a dual reality may be delineated under the aegis of Kronos. In the unfragmented reality, we are both those who committed the acts considered mistaken and those who performed the deemed correct. And this very interpretation of “right” and “wrong” is relative, dependent on specific viewpoints within the dream. Consciousness, in Its play, experiences all polarities, while being conditioned by none.
Realisation, therefore, is not an acquisition but a recognition. It is awakening within the dream to the dreamlike nature of all. It is perceiving that the seeker, the search, and the sought are one and the same Substance. The Now is not a point on the timeline; it is the very space in which the timeline seems to unfold. It is the ever-present Being that you have always been, even before the first idea of “I” arose.
When one rests in this Now, without pursuit, without flight, the character relaxes its contracted identity. And in the silence that follows, Singularity recognises Itself, playing at being someone, in the eternal and loving game of hide-and-seek that is existence itself.
In the Eternity of that which never was born,
With Sincere Vows of Awakening,
Conscendo Sodalitas