A core practice within Collective Alchemy is
the insistence on sourcing from the present, collectively.
What does it mean, to be continually sourcing from the present?
It means meeting the world from the inside out;
being with the reality of our embodied experience
—not our received ideas and unexamined assumptions about how things are—
and weaving our impressions into a space we can land in together
for the time we are together
then letting it go again.
Nothing is set in stone.
This is the alchemy of life:
when we are in embodied relationship with the world and the Earth
in real time
(not acting out of what we think we know and who we think we are),
‘reality’ is free to change in ways it cannot
if we are relating to it at one remove
(through what we think we know and who we think we are).
In recent weeks, we have been experiencing
a ‘golden silence’, a place of resonance.
Sometimes, when you enter a chapel or a cave,
even before you have made a sound,
you can sense the acoustics:
how everything is ready to resonate
with your own true voice.
You can almost touch that silence
that potential for resonance.
That is the place we enter now,
individually and together.
When I move the locus,
the centre of my identity into that core,
what lives there is just silence.
That place is invulnerable, because it’s not invested in any content.
But it’s not isolated:
when I’m in that space, I can feel you.
It’s not any content you might be identified with,
it’s YOU. Equally goldenly silent.
There’s a quality of togetherness,
where we’re both in the golden silence together,
where the illusions/delusions of identity just burn away, dissolve.
It’s not a particular person or identity looking back at us, affirming us…
rather, it is the togetherness that we recognise as identical to our own essence.
This integral togetherness leaves no gap
between me and my spontaneous action in the world
into which any other voices or agendas can insinuate themselves.
WHEN WE ARE IN THAT GOLDEN SILENCE TOGETHER, WHAT BECOMES AVAILABLE?
Language is problematic.
Language is there to express thought forms.
In my mind’s eye, I experience the wedge coming in
to split the circle, like an axe.
That splitting is — I think— perspectival consciousness:
that wedge is the segment of reality that we can see,
from our specific perspective in space and time,
that leaves everything else out.
That consciousness also produces
the instrumentalising thought forms
from which has flowed everything
that humanity has constructed together,
and our experience of history, civilisation…
even our own sense of identity has come
from the mirroring
of other people’s perceptions of who we are.
So, sitting in that space of golden silent togetherness,
there’s a vast sense of possibility.
It’s as if that perspectival wedge, that segmented vision
opens up all the way around.
Leaving me not just with a very narrow band
of potential actions,
depending on what falls within the range of acceptable behaviour,
or what is thought scientifically possible.
All those thought forms fall away.
All pressure falls away.
The core of myself is silent.
The essence of myself is non-action
—it’s the Wu Wei of the Tao,
the effortless doing through non-doing
that’s constantly springing up from this moment.
The golden togetherness is with whatever, whoever is around me,
and there’s a different experience in my body,
as it is truly sensing, truly intelligent,
a being imbued with mind, with thought
—not the babble of voices in the head,
but the Thought of the Cosmos.
What becomes possible from there, I have no idea.
But i’m participating in its unfolding and
I have never felt more alive.
What becomes available to me
is the space within my body.
I’m very much aware of the space in my chest.
Empty and vibrantly full of potential.
Connecting to the ‘together’,
what becomes available
is connection at multiple levels.
Starting with the heart level of reaching out.
As I expand my awareness,
I sense a strong connection
at the pelvic level, where I sense a lot of power.
The power is in the individual,
and the power is amplified by the togetherness.
Most of all, I sense that image of
together going into a chapel-like cave.
Sensing the rock surrounding us everywhere,
like I sense my chest,
and sensing what is in that cave
in that so-called emptiness
—the same space, full of potential—
Language is so restrictive!
I truly considered not saying anything,
because that would be the most accurate way of sharing.
But there’s also some expectation
of socially acceptable behaviour
that I name that.
And also a hope that I do it in such a way
that it helps our togetherness.
Language can evoke imagery
and imagery is part of our capacity as human beings.
Its power transported me with you into that chapel-like cave,
in the silence, feeling the acoustic potential of resonance with my true sound
brought me an embodied transport that felt truly shared.
It really felt like we were there together.
And it amplified my feeling of aliveness.
So this new reality that lies beyond the Era Shift
lies already in the present moment.
Both are true, because both realities
are present in the present moment,
even though they can’t co-exist in the same space
because they resonate at different frequencies.
They are two different dimensions occupying the same space-time coordinates,
that can’t be experienced simultaneously.
So what becomes available is a whole set of choices.
We can use language to reify and pin down reality,
deadening and controlling it.
Or we can use it as an art form
to evoke and enhance our experience of aliveness and beauty.
As much as I’ve missed being in this journey together,
it has allowed me to realise that there are different ways of being together.
I was quite addicted to those months and weeks
when I tried to participate in almost all our encounters,
so it did me good to let go of that
to see what else might come up.
There was a feeling of being present and silent,
alone and together with the field.
What becomes available is
this unexplainable sense of deep connectivity,
that something links us, some vibration
that makes me and us feel alive,
that nourishes my soul,
reminding me that we come from the same source of life.
And I truly enjoy the idea that these connections
cannot be mapped, measured, demonstrated,
that they defy any sense of rational logic.
They reveal what connects us
rather than supporting what keeps us apart
—those mental distractions that come in the form of language
that separates us permanently.
There’s a mythical and magical dimension that’s opening up for us.
Where the small and big egos
—individual or collective—
leaving space for the recognition that we are part of something greater
that doesn’t have to be named.
It liberates me from the pressure to achieve anything,
against nature, against other beings,
From there, comes a big sense of potential
that manifests for me as being there for others,
unconditionally, as they need me,
And the readiness to readjust instantly,
when I sense that my presence
does not contribute positively.
It’s a way of not getting lost in the ego-satisfaction
of being there for others:
there is this hidden dimension of altruism
that feeds my ego, a mental thing that
traps me into doing something at any cost,
that even where it sources from a good intention
can end in a bad result.
What seems to also become available
is an invitation to be more aware,
to meet and embrace this emptiness in each of us,
among us and between us;
those unbearable sides of thinking through the purpose of life:
why am I here?
Those big questions that don’t have immediate answers,
that make me feel truly uncomfortable,
and create a permanent temptation to avoid that void,
to want to fill that gap,
to rush away from the discomfort of silence,
to make a rational linguistic sense of what it is to be alive,
to serve that idea that everything is random,
to find behaviours, thoughts, substances
that will keep me busy,
that will give me that momentary sense of comfort,
that never answers the deeper discomfort.
So it seems to boil down to the choices,
those internal ones that do not come strictly through the brain;
where other organs come into the picture:
the heart, the lungs,
the potential for gut feelings, instinct;
leaving space for the animal self,
the non-verbal being that emits vibrations
and captures them.
It feels good to be here.
“When it comes to atoms, language can be used only as in poetry. The poet, too, is not nearly so concerned with describing facts as with creating images.” (Niels Bohr)
When we’re in the golden silence together,
what becomes available is ME.
My eyes are wet from the realization
of how much of my life I haven’t been available.
Because I’ve been trapped by a fake identity;
These days I’m spending so much more time in that inner silence.
It’s like being wide open to whatever is there,
because there’s nothing to protect.
It’s been an alchemical journey for me,
to the extent that it has transformed the past
as well as the present and the future.
Living in a community, I’ve spent a lot of time feeling unsafe:
old body trauma patterns get triggered
by certain behaviours in some of my house mates.
That no longer happens.
My body has released its trauma patterns.
For me that is like changing the past.
It allows me to be the hollow bone,
the resonant chamber that can pick up what’s available
to participate in life.
Living life as a part of nature.
The golden part of the silence
has this glow to it
—like the background cosmic radiation.
It has a joy to it that is much more tangible
when sitting in the silence.
Starting from what am I sensing here.
It started with sensing waves
—I’m sensitive to EM waves.
It was like very intense electrosmog,
as if someone is around.
I realise that it is my grandmother,
who used to occupy these rooms.
I never met her, she died before I was born.
5 generations of my family have been living in this place.
I am sorting out the memorabilia of the past,
coming to know the quirks of my ancestors,
(the club of the unkissed virgins!),
being held by my extended family.
Past, present and future are all mixed up,
trying to step into the future,
without the baggage of the past.
It’s a process of digestion:
if we uncover the past and bring it to the future,
the world becomes much wider.
At last, I’m feeling at home in my ancestral place,
I have never felt closer to my grandmother
than I have done in the silence.
The boundaries dissolve
between where I begin and end.
Time and space hardly matter,
they’re all different shades of the same.
Having learned this past year to live without traveling,
I’m just being happy with what is arising in the here and now,
in the freedom of no expectations.
Going into the golden silence
I immediately felt the connection
of all of us in the circle,
a golden ring through the shoulders.
The energy of unrestrained joy
of little creatures dancing on that ring
that connected us all.
In that moment between
when H put down the talking piece
and J picked it up…
I had this very bright light
I was viewing in my field.
I tried to source that light,
and what came up for me was
the image of a miner with a head lamp.
I laughed at myself,
because this light was not
that kind of light.
The light had the same kind of orange hue
I saw behind K before we started.
That reminds me of the light I saw
I revisited a time in my youth
when I was adjacent to my own death.
People call it a ‘near death experience’,
but for me it was an ‘adjacent death experience.’
That happened 50 years ago.
A couple of years ago I had a view from
behind myself, (rather than looking down from above)
which had an orange misty view.
I have just again had that experience
of the heavenly light.
When I put down the rock, I looked at H.
When I allowed myself to embody that orange flavour,
I flipped H.
There was a flip.
There’s another dimension,
something going on here
that my rational mind doesn’t know yet
what that is.
I was struck by
“what becomes available is me”.
It felt really good to sink into that,
to feel that.
I recently moved here, and I’m noticing
I feel a lot more ‘me’ here in this location,
a very different terrain.
There’s a lot of gold around.
There’s a golden bush that grows everywhere here,
that I treasure.
There’s the breaking of the silence
by the joy of the children playing nearby.
I feel the golden essence of that.
When I walk before sunset,
approaching the children playing in the park,
the little ones come to be recognised,
to be the me in them.
Last night, looking at the golden glow of the sun setting far into the west
Tapping into those spaces,
even as I live and breathe as this human every day,
And sharing with you as I witness that light shining from each of you.
And in the golden silence,
realms that we have yet to touch into
I am spending more time in silence these weeks,
treasuring being with me,
and all that’s around now.
What’s been here in this golden silence, together,
is a humbleness.
There’s a nakedness,
right there along with joy.
And in that, there is profound freedom.
This freedom almost rings out.
With that freedom,
there’s an unleashing.
Like the blast of water
when the dam is loosed.
I live on a busy thoroughfare.
In the silence I was aware
of the background noises
I usually don’t attend to.
It was lovely
I would never have noticed
if it weren’t for the silence.
There’s something else.
Noticing a transition,
from the beginning,
with undulations as I moved back into silence,
and then stillness.
A flip from the waviness to the stillness,
the particle-like nature of joy
My perception flows through waves and particles,
I’m noticing how my body responds to connection,
through the opening through the heart;
and how often tears come when that happens.
Seeing your faces and feeling massive bonds of affection.
Realizing that of the 9 faces in the squares on the screen,
there are 5 I have only ever seen on screen.
And yet my body knows what it feels like
to hug, smell, feel each one of you.
The really freaky thing is
not knowing our relative sizes!
Who’s bigger than me, who’s smaller than me?
It’s such a curious thing,
the way the body can create
a felt memory of such an experience.
What I’ve been finding
in the silence
are cracks, fractures
where light does pour through.
Patience for what remains wordless.
There’s a waiting.
There’s something very, very “innocent”
—and that word is insufficient.
There’s a primordially sundered heaven and hell here,
in the patient waiting.
Who showed up:
Georgios Kastrinos, Madeline Snow, David Birenbaum, Justin Frank, Kim Maynard, Sam Hinds, Judy Wallace, Ursula Hillbrand, Pieter Deceuninck, Helen Titchen Beeth