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The Unfoldment- The Organic Path of Clarity, Power, And Transformation PDF

207 Pages·2012·0.92 MB·English
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THE UNFOLDMENT The Organic Path to Clarity, Power, and Transformation By Neil Kramer Copyright © 2012 by Neil Kramer All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher, The Career Press. THE UNFOLDMENT EDITED BY JODI BRANDON TYPESET BY DIANA GHAZZAWI Cover design by Howard Grossman/12E Design Printed in the U.S.A. To order this title, please call toll-free 1-800-CAREER-1 (NJ and Canada: 201- 848-0310) to order using VISA or MasterCard, or for further information on books from Career Press. The Career Press, Inc. 220 West Parkway, Unit 12 Pompton Plains, NJ 07444 www.careerpress.com www.newpagebooks.com CIP Available Upon Request Acknowledgments I would like to express my heartfelt thanks and appreciation to the following people: David, for sharing so many adventures with so much heart. Lynda, for her love and integrity. Ronen, for the best conversations on the East Coast. Kevin, for his tremendous courage. Nate, for his honorable spirit. My folks, for their love and understanding. Mikael and Brent, for greasing the wheels. John and Arthur, for their inspiration. Thanks to all the fine souls I’ve met at conferences, workshops, and conscious gatherings, for their support and insight. Thanks to everyone behind the scenes at Trident Media and New Page Books for helping to turn this into a finished product. Finally, infinite gratitude to Maren for being an ever-luminous flame in my life. Contents Introduction: Spiritual Insurgence Chapter 1: True Deeds Chapter 2: Covenant of Amnesia Chapter 3: Breaching the Narrative Chapter 4: Holding Feathers Chapter 5: Russian Dolls Chapter 6: Knowing the Field Chapter 7: Imperial Secrets Chapter 8: The Distortion Chapter 9: Silent Consent Chapter 10: Touchstones Chapter 11: School Bus of Selves Chapter 12: Word Bondage Chapter 13: Projected Images Chapter 14: Cult Indulgences Chapter 15: Glad Tidings Chapter 16: Input, Output Chapter 17: Ogres Bearing Gifts Chapter 18: Paradox Chapter 19: Something From Nothing Chapter 20: Sublime Flux Chapter 21: Undoing Woundedness Chapter 22: Mystical Utterances Chapter 23: Within and Without Resurgence Index About the Author Introduction Spiritual Insurgence When we pull ourselves away from the hypnotic allure of the material world and stand back from the clamor and collusion of it all, we come to the realm of philosophy. Philosophy invites us to rise above the route map of our own life and take a broader view. It is the gateway to experiences of meaning, insight, and truth. It can recalibrate the mind for contact with something of a higher order than everyday human consciousness. When approached genuinely and openly—and quite regardless of our familiarity with it—philosophy never ceases to reinvigorate our relationship with life, charging it with a vitality and a sense of adventure that many have not felt for years. The word philosophy comes from the Greek philosophia: philo “love” and sophia “wisdom”—“love of wisdom.” Considered in this light, it is a rather more natural impulse than we have been led to believe. Though scholars and academics appear to have laid claim to it from the ancient days of Babylonia, Egypt, and Greece onward, philosophy is really an abiding and essential component of everyone’s life. We all know that wherever we are and whatever we are doing, the more wisdom we hold, the more fulfilling our life path. Throughout the many journeys and realizations that have shaped my consciousness over the last few decades, I have always sought to distill my own thoughts into the most honest and lucid terms possible. This has been largely for practical purposes, so I can better understand myself, my fellow humans, and the extraordinary world in which we live. Many revelations, intrigues, and awakenings have been encountered along the way, all of them somehow interconnected at the deepest level. Though the wisdom I have come upon feels very personal and unique, I understand that, at its core, it is not. When the singular colors and textures that describe my journey are set aside, what is left is universal. It is transpersonal, open, and immutable. There are seven billions paths to it—one for each of us—but the original knowing is always the same. We all feel the truth of it. My path began with puzzlement—puzzlement at why it was that most people’s lives followed a single fated formula: work, rest, eat, sleep, repeat. It was a deceptively vicious gravitation and it seemed to eventually pull everyone in. Though there were plenty of diversions available to take the edge off it, such as sport, vacations, culture, church, and parties, none of these things offered too as sport, vacations, culture, church, and parties, none of these things offered too much inspiration or insight. In a way, they made it worse. There was precious little time for anyone to think about the deeper questions and mysteries of existence. In fact, any sort of pondering on any subject was considered a rare luxury. From all walks of life, the talk that I overhead was habitually focused on very mundane matters and was conspicuously un-magical. People shared their stories, their wishes, and their woes, but no one seemed to be really getting to the heart of things. They didn’t want to talk about it. Even the most intelligent people seemed resigned to contracting the formula, as it if were a disease—quietly accepting that it would shape their lives from one year to the next. It felt wrong. I realized that unless I took it upon myself to do things differently, I, too, would most likely fall into the same routine. I vowed that I would do my best to create my own patterns and spend as much time as I could on the things that I felt were meaningful and real. I stopped focusing on the particulars of life and instead started going to the roots. This immediately required me to regard my life as a kind of experimental art project. What I did, what I thought, and even who I was, would be painted onto a perfectly blank canvas, with absolutely no rules or restrictions. As long as I did no harm to myself or others, it was all good. For a while, I chose to adopt the formula like everyone else. I worked, paid the bills, put bread on the table, and conducted myself in a relatively orderly manner. In parallel, I also immersed myself in the study of philosophy, spirituality, and mysticism. These seemed to be the subjects and disciplines that were best suited to the enterprise of discovery. Though they had each fallen unaccountably out of fashion, to me, there was nothing more exhilarating and consequential. I studied deeply and comprehensively. I read everything that I pulled from the shelves: the classical and the obscure, the deep and the divine, the arcane and the enigmatic. I soon realized that the wisdom our forefathers had left for us could not be absorbed in a single lifetime; perhaps not even 10. So I chose as judiciously and intuitively as I could. I put forth whatever effort was necessary to optimize my time with those texts. I read them with a great sense of pleasure and privilege. Nevertheless, such presumptuous independence meant that I was occasionally suspected of not taking life seriously enough. I found this odd, as that was exactly the opposite of what I was trying to do. It was suggested to me that it would be better to do away with the frivolities of philosophical contemplation and instead turn my attentions to the somber responsibilities of adulthood. There were also times when I was reproached for taking it all far too seriously, accompanied by bizarre attempts to coerce me into spending my time on more accompanied by bizarre attempts to coerce me into spending my time on more acceptable leisure pursuits like football, golf, and reading spy novels. Because I chose to pursue my studies in a non-academic fashion— instead, consciously selecting the path of the autodidact (one who is self-taught)—it had the effect of making matters even more flammable. Without a degree or a job in any of my areas of interest, it seemed that all my efforts were apparently fruitless. What I was doing was unproductive, insubstantial, and without practical value. I had embarked upon an irrational and perhaps even dangerous path. Regardless, I just got on with it and kept my nose clean, as they say. I kept my game so sharp that, despite the underlying ideological conflict, there were no real grounds for complaint. I could not point the finger at any specific opponents, saboteurs, or individuals. My friends and family were pretty open-minded and tolerant, thank goodness. My colleagues and employers knew little or nothing of my interests. The adversity emanated from the system of social conditioning itself. All of its embedded messages, doctrines, and axioms were aimed at amplifying the old inevitable formula. Because I was rejecting that at a philosophical level, I was perpetually swimming against the tide. What was supposed to bring me pleasure did not. What was supposed to scare me did not. Yet the inertia of the whole setup weighed heavily upon me. At every turn, I was presented with solid reasons and tempting excuses to discard my conscious growth and do something else instead. Another decade passed before I completely grasped why real philosophical and spiritual inquiry is frowned upon in the mainstream. The purpose and mechanisms of this peculiar containment are fully explored in due course. For now, let me say that the revelatory shock that ripped through my being, served only to strengthen my resolve to embrace my own sacred sovereignty as a way of life. As I went about my studies and practices, I kept my eyes and ears open to what was happening around me. What occurred in the offices, corridors, and meeting rooms of the commercial world proved just as illuminating as the 19th- century German philosophy I was devouring in the evenings. Sometimes they even mirrored each other, if you can believe such a thing. I realized that laboring in the heart of the machine was affording me intimate knowledge of a world that I was beginning to actively deconstruct. It would be of little worth for me to sit in a comfortable study somewhere and merely speculate about the plight of the unfortunate proletariat. Before I could speak with any real passion or wisdom, I, too, had to be up to my neck in it. And I was.

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Most books are stored in the elastic cloud where traffic is expensive. For this reason, we have a limit on daily download.