Thoughts Arise

A God separate to the universe seems impossible. Consider the universe; a flat, possibly boundless, plane. If there is a separate God, It exists outside this spacetime. So for the moment imagine God existing on another plane. On this plane, which predates space and time, there can be nothing but God. It cannot be an entity inside a bubble of spacetime, because then the bubble would have to exist first. Now consider God creating the universe. When the universe is created it would be inside God, or rather not outside , as there is nothing else where a bubble of spacetime can be created. And what would this universe be created from, but the essence of God? Yet how could the essence of a single indivisible sentience create separate things, both sentient and non-sentient? But separation has emerged. So perhaps there is no God. Or this separation is an illusion; everything is and exists within God; the Mind at Large . In either case, a God separate to everything else seems impossible. We are

Today at the beach I closed my eyes and listened. For a few minutes the sound of the waves was almost all there was. I heard the rumbling roar of the crests, followed by the fizzling hum of the foam, and this duet filled my mind to the brim. The sound grew louder and the crescendo enveloped me till the waves seemed to crash over my head, toying with my sense of direction. There was a sense of unfathomable power, yet also deep calm, both spread over some immense distance. It was the sea announcing itself in the realm of my mind. Later in the day, during a more traditional meditation, I felt a similarity in the nature of sounds and thoughts. Sounds arise spontaneously. I have no control other than the level of concentration applied to the sound, and even that is hardly a conscious choice. Sounds are one way in which the natural processes of the world become known to us. Thoughts are really the same. I have no control over my next thought; it arises as mysteriously as a sound. Even concep

I went for a run while repeating this pointer. I could soon feel myself brushing the world in the wondrous hues of spring. Colours point out how the world we see is not simply perceived as it is, but being modelled by our minds. And this can be felt rather than just understood. Trees, birds and flowers. When I named something "out there", I felt these labels existed in the world rather than in my head. And so naming became more intimate; connecting to these entities, rather than simply observing from a distance. As I came upon a person from behind, I recognised my expectations influencing perception. It was as if I imagined eyes in the back of their head, pointed at me and converging at some focal point behind my face. A while later, I heard a cyclist coming up from behind me, and this time the sensation was of their eyes boring into the back of my head. Is the felt location of the self simply a mental algorithm? Isn’t my heart as much a part of me as my brain? Pondering this