When the mind soars in pursuit of the things conceived in space…it pursues emptiness; but when man dives deep within himself, he experiences the fullness of existence.

(Meher Baba)

All collapsed in a moment sublime without explanations or angst. There were no alternate concepts. Just deepness without surface, beingness nonstop. It suffused everywhere. Music had no source and emanated from an envelope of always. The story unfolded like a mirage, suspended over forever spaces, self-contained and endless. Time was a dream unfolding, the blooming of a rose, a non-existing breeze, where all feelings were being simultaneously projected. Words were not available to describe the silence beyond silence, that for an instant of forever, dawned, absorbed, and expressed, the essence of all that was.

I am just lost in the concert awed by being alive and awake in this marvelous apparition, these songs of cicadas, this pulsation of creatures all alive competing for presence.

It starts with a rush of form and circumstance. Birth. An apparition in flesh, of a point of view, a drop of consciousness. Like a seed, it brings with it a potential, a genome, a script based on countless apparitions on stage, an unconscious history of assemblage and dual experiences at so many levels, that need to be balanced and neutralized in a gradual growth of the consciousness of being.

The collective consciousness of each stage, arising out of the contrasts experienced by every individual particle and form, in their dance with so many partners at the same level, and so many others at different levels and states, is an active process wherein love, that sublime unknown force, that enlivens everything and reflects a hidden unified field, constantly grows toward love.

An apparition, from the Latin apparere (to appear), is in its literal sense merely an appearance—a sense perception of any kind. Really speaking, everything is an apparition of Existence, at different stages of assembly, seeking the container that would encompass the capacity, to transcend the container itself and release the essence being pursued, which in reality is always there, but it plays an imaginary game of hide and seek, to experience the flow of the Love force, which is Love itself.

We are born as apparitions, within the apparition of the universe, which seen from an individual point of view, is a set of unending multifarious apparitions. A cosmic soup of energy, in constantly different states of organization, stages of development and evolution, perceiving itself with different levels of awareness, from unconsciousness to self-consciousness, depending on the particular moment of assemblage.

At the human level assemblage state, we become aware, that we are aware, of ourselves and the contents of the universe. This awareness is both of the surrounding apparitions and of the self that witnesses them. But due to the intensity of the apparitions, consciousness is overwhelmed. The initial awareness and reflection of the self is mesmerized by the outer apparitions and confuses their ephemeral and transitory nature with the timeless beholding of self-awareness, which really is the essence begetting the apparitions.

Words, thoughts, rituals, beliefs, non-beliefs, intellectuality, and religion cannot describe the nature of this essence of love. Sometimes in evanescent moments or inner flashes, we appreciate and experience glimpses of this essence. And those who are more evolved and get to be fully awake, just shine, sing about, and tell us, like elders do to little children, bedtime stories to inspire us, to fully live this sacred life, that is the apparition, that Love sets in motion to fulfill itself in Love.

We sometimes can get embraced by one who has felt that fragrance and perceive the glances of light that reflect the light and hear the song of silence that reflects that Silence. Those waves of energy that fall upon us are unknowingly surrounding us all the time, and at times surging in springtides that flood all. And inadvertently, the sway of these waves carries our drop points of view, towards that Ocean Source of the Apparition, that is within us always.

Despite the turbulence of the waves, the oscillations of our minds, the networks of thought, opinions, beliefs and imagination, the blessed Love Apparition, appears again and again, and beckons us to be who we really are, and helps us all to eventually dissolve in the Love, and find out that we are the seeker and the sought. That we are the Apparition and its source.

Words are not capable of transmitting what life is all about. Meher Baba, who minutely analyzed consciousness in his writings, stated in the conclusion of one of his books:

All that is said here and explained …to appease the intellectual convulsions of the mind of man still lacks many more words and further explanations because the truth is that the Reality must be realized. To understand the infinite, eternal Reality is not the goal of individualized beings in the Illusion of Creation, because Reality can never be understood; it is to be realized by conscious experience.

We of course go on playing our different roles, ridden with inner and outer contradictions, experiencing all kinds of attachments and desires, frustrated trying to escape them, and fully identified with our momentary’ IDs, until the moment in which that consciousness that is perceiving the apparition perceives itself. The gift of Love is to plant the seed in our hearts so we can bloom and realize that Love is us.

A whim is always in the womb of Being. A mighty white stallion called Imagination. A perpetual immaculate conception of loving essence. Nativity is always happening. Being is in constant labor, to deliver and fascinate Itself with infinite possibility, in the whoosh of creation.

Imagination gallops swiftly, through virgin never-ending cosmic plains, carpeted by magic light-dust sediments, covering fathomless oceans of nothing. As it trots, it sculpts innumerable everything, vistas, settings, and character silhouettes, in feisty and ephemeral columns of stirred-up luminous dust of nonentity. Golden moments of light expand and contract in apparition, their substance enlivened by Being’s own imagination. For a transient they surge, and live, like drops-bubbles in a mighty wave, to merge again; the enchanted mix of everything’s imagination touching its nothing shadow.

It generates a cascade of gestures, eruptions, passions, allegiances, affairs, frowns, beauty, heinous crimes, supreme love sacrifices, laughter, joy, unbearable pain, mustaches, roses and wine. Infinite shapes and plots and sub-plots, within infinite cycles of dust and possibility.

All emerges like a mirage -the majestic multidimensional tapestry divine- with every step the stallion takes, as it sprints nowhere in time. Everything is the same One Being, breathing universes through the stampede of its whim, to allow all-encompassing, unimaginable, unthinkable flows of Love, to enrapture its everything and its nothing, enabling a cosmic romance that gives meaning to beauty, the never-ending Beauty, that only and forever Is.