The Soul-Reality and James Joyce: Consciousness as the Chalice of the Sat-Chit-Ananda Experience Permeating Poetry of Life/ “Priest of the Eternal Imagination”

James Joyce circa 1902 Dublin Ireland

James Joyce circa 1902 Dublin Ireland

“His soul was swooning into some new world, fantastic, dim, uncertain as under sea, traversed by cloudy shapes and beings. A world, a glimmer or a flower? Glimmering and trembling and unfolding, a breaking light, an opening flower, it spread in endless succession to itself, breaking in full crimson and unfolding and fading to palest rose, leaf by leaf and wave of light by wave of light, flooding all the heavens with its soft flushes, every flush deeper than the other”.

–         A Portrait of the Artist as a Youngman, James Joyce, 1916

… I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.-  James Joyce

 In 1963, when I assigned the name “quark” to the fundamental constituents of the nucleon, I had the sound first, without the spelling, which could have been “kwork”. Then, in one of my occasional perusals of Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce, I came across the word “quark” in the phrase “Three quarks for Muster Mark”. Since “quark” (meaning, for one thing, the cry of the gull) was clearly intended to rhyme with “Mark”, as well as “bark” and other such words…

– The Quark and the Jaguar, Murray Gell-Man, American Physicist, Noble Prize Winner for Theory of Elementary Particles, 1969.

 

“Consciousness is a fundamental thing, the fundamental thing in
existence   it is the energy, the motion, the movement of
consciousness that creates the universe and all that is in it   not
only the macrocosm but the microcosm is nothing but consciousness
arranging itself”. – — Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine

“I regard consciousness as fundamental. I regard matter as
derivative from consciousness. We cannot get behind consciousness.
Everything that we talk about, everything that we regard as existing,
postulates consciousness”.- Max Planck, Quantum Physicist and Noble
Prize Winner and Founder of Quantum Theory, Observer 25th Jan 1931

 

                                     

The Sun has blossomed on my iris                    

An American Prayer, Jim Morrison

An American Prayer, Jim Morrison

A thin veil of clouds have lifted the lid of the sky

The smoke and mist have moved away

The din of the castle walls and the corners of the street

Acquire a new way of deciphering the meaning

Life is pointless points of soul-acquisition

My boots stand for my existence

My feet for my liberation

And my words for the whole human race

Nothing contradicts my will

Far beyond the present reality

Above the mind, the true hidden source is found

That is the artist’s divine quest       

For neither time nor eternity can toil like the words

And forge something absolute out of that inane nothing

To create what was not there by the sole action of your choice

We live in multitude and on a point of poise our hearts tied to one consciousness

Being of time where the saviour laid his head 

Sprung like a child trying to unknot the mysteries of life

A brilliant flash of light creates the patterns as a revelation

Seabirds crawl into that cradle of stars appearing as thoughts

Fashioned by the poetry of a higher mind

Stillness, silence the vibratory sequences of this multiverse

Can trigger the marvellous journey through the doors

Into the place of virgin oneness

That must exist or nothing else can

A pen on a piece of paper makes a diagram

It starts from this revelatory point

And the mind that directs this cinema of the worlds

Measures each sequence step by step

His observation is the cult of this worship of arts

Without which the pen or the paper are only void that cannot speak

Existence is multiple points from one singularity as consciousness choose them to be

Unknown to man a giant seabird leaped into his soul

And he looked straight into the sun

That gave him the vision of the everlasting light

–         A promise of liberation and the soul substance of fire *tapas/jyoti

– J

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Micro-Genetics of the Consciousness within the Geometric Circles Regenerating Vortex for Transmission of Codons for New Supramental Life-Force

 

The First Principle Is That You Must Not Fool Yourself- And You Are The Easiest Person To Fool. 

– Richard Feynman, 1974

 

Micro-Genetics of the Consciousness within the Geometric Circles Regenerating Vortex for Transmission of Codons for New Supramental Life-Force

creation (6-6) alpha-alpha

creation (4-4) zeta-zeta

creation (8-8) pi-pi

orb vectors triangular brahman —vigrahaman 

The Flower of Life and the Tree of Life within it

The Flower of Life and the Tree of Life within it

A point originates from the vast navel of four thoughts

Thought was not there but a will-force

Will was not there but just an intuition of things

There was just this ‘feeling’

A small regular spark of the irregular void

That within itself

A strange supra-giant entity, the serpent of Ishtar

The Ionicixa, the Razder, the Mazuvont

The aboriginal fire in the lap of sacred tetrahedron

Dreamt the zero of the pure spirit

It incarnated as the vesica piscis

Enfolding the flower of the beautiful rhythm

From future came unwinding time herself

The clocks started ticking within radiometric circles

Thoughts became condensed to a point of singularity

Machu Micchu -Rediscovering The Lost  City of the Incas, Peru

Machu Micchu -Rediscovering The Lost City of the Incas, Peru

And consciousness the mother in the womb

Gave birth to a flame of desire

Something out of the vast harvest of random uncertainties

Expression was the true source of the tree of life

Gradually building the light body merkaba

For existence to become possible from the mathematical possibilities

Reality was a paragon of the known unknown

Dolphins and birds

The sea and the octahedral mountains

Felt the wind as fire on the edges of these points

Octave to octave

The sun was the shaman who nestled in the void

Playing the flute of darkness and light

The dawn came as a chalice of blood offering itself to the creational owner

Laboured earned the stars, death the vision

Uniform non-locality in the immobile spheres

Each interface inter-changing dimensions

Electromagnetic oscillation of the triad of destiny

Red alphabets

And the golden Benu

Saw the eternal emerald skies filled with light

The arc danced

Splinters of coal etched a rainbow of rivers.

 

– Joy Roy Choudhury