Make your own free website on Tripod.com

 

 

The  Silence  and  the  Phosphorescence

By

Alexandra Porter, Ph. D.

 

Conference

May 24, 2004

 

            Good evening everyone!  Let us commence this conference with a prayer.  

            Our Father, who art in heaven, we give thanks for life.  We ask that you grant us the safety of your presence.  It is God’s will and God’s desire for us to be here.  And, as the speaker, I give thanks for the privilege of working, one more day, in the fulfillment of thy degree.  Please join me, now,  in the Lord’s Prayer.  Our Father, who art in heaven   Thank you.

            This conference is presented here in order that its content can serve as a testimony for the images we perceive.  Having said that, please, let us begin.

             Some people often say, “I know that thing exists because I see it.”  Other people may be more emphatic in their convictions of the existence of something and say, “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck; it is a duck.”  These statements are so cliché that we seem to accept them at their face value. 

                    Have you ever wondered what these statements mean?  

      Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a critical question and wondered if the duck you saw, and             the duck you heard quacking, was truly a duck?

              If you were to recall your early childhood, many of you would agree with what I am about to say.  Some of us have been taught that we should judge the world only from our objective impressions of it.  We must agree that either by the experiences we have witnessed in our lives, or by word of mouth, we have been trained to think, of the reality of something, from a material point of view.  In some cases, it has been ingrained in our minds that unless we actually see a thing, or feel, taste, hear or smell it; we have no significant evidence to believe that the thing exists.  In fact, sometimes we even base decisions on our ability to mentally weigh what we perceive.  Thus, it is not overstating the case to say that we may have become potential slaves to the material of things.

               This brings to mind Democritus, a 4th century mystical philosopher, who lived on the Balkan Peninsula of southeastern Europe .  Democritus explained how the mind operated by stating the following:  “Particles of mind or soul were distributed throughout the body and were continually escaping, owing to their subtle nature; but, as they escaped, their places were taken by other particles inhaled in the breath.  When breathing ceased there was nothing to recruit the living particles, and death speedily followed.  Every mental impression was of the mental of touch, and was caused by either actual contact with atoms as in the case of taste and hearing, or by images thrown off from bodies external to us, and entering through our pores.  These images were a kind of film consisting of the surface atoms which were continually floating off from all bodies without any disturbance of their mutual order, and were, so to speak, a sample of the object from which they were detached.”

                 Democritus words lead me to the understanding of a very important lesson.  I believe he was saying that all matter is in a state of vibration.  He was telling us that what we know is not the matter itself.  The implication was that we only know the vibrations that impinge themselves upon our consciousness through our sensory nervous system. 

                 To further expand on the usage of words and to make us more consciously aware of what we are implying, let me explain it thusly.  When we say, “I see it,” we tend to mean, “My consciousness sees it.”  The word “see” means that there is a picture in the consciousness.  So, when we use the word “see” in this manner, the implication is that our baseline data stems from that picture in our consciousness.  Further research of this topic tells me that there does exist in space certain higher vibratory frequencies that can be easily picked up as sound or as pictures.

                 At this juncture, the philosophical question arises: When we fall asleep and dream, do we not see things in our consciousness?  Even when we are wide-awake, we are apt to see vivid pictures in the consciousness.  In either case, awake or sleeping, it is not the thing itself that our inner consciousness perceives, but a picture of it.

                 Now, in order to explain to you what I learned about the general nature of this discussion, please permit me to relate a personal story, along with personal interpretation and misconception. 

                 I was in my home study, working on a nursing curriculum, when my daughter reminded me that she was going to retire.  I bid her good night and told her that I was also going to bed.  It was, then, 8:30 PM and I suddenly realized that the day had been long and filled with long-standing problems.  In my daily routine, I had included the revision of a nursing course curriculum.  The Registered Nursing Board of the State of California had made changes that were to be implemented by the Nursing Department of our college that year.  As a consequence, our entire nursing course curriculum was being revised and I was a member of the revision committee.

                       When I left my home office that night, I was still thinking of all the hours I had worked that day.  I went to bed thinking that my nursing students, indeed, were blessed.  I lay in bed, said my prayers and thanked God for the course curriculum.  Then I began to do my retrospection exercises and slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

                    That night I dreamt of a pond or lake covered with algae-like substance.  The pond covered all the visible space within my vision.  Upon a close observation, I saw a blanket of dark green and black matter.  It appeared iridescent in certain areas, phosphorescent over some areas, and a flat matte texture in other areas.  Underneath this matter there appeared to be something or someone moving very gently or wandering about.  I tried to clear my vision and replace what I perceived but was unsuccessful.  After what appeared to be numerous attempts, I became strangely restless.

                     At this time, in the dream, the telephone rang.  The sound of a telephone ringing made me shift the awareness from the phosphorescent blanket to a definite realization that my telephone was ringing clearly and sharply in its normally distinct manner.  Although I was visibly removed from the actual telephone or a picture of its replica, in the dream, I was convinced that the bell of a material telephone was emitting the ringing.  With this frame of mind, the most logical reaction to take, then, was to answer the telephone.  When I did, there were no signs of anyone being on the telephone line.  The silence I experienced, while listening on the telephone, intensified the restlessness I felt.  I realized, then, that I was alone in this dream.  This meant that I could not count on human assistance if needed.  To test my hypothesis I screamed.  I waited for what appeared to be a long period of time and no one came. 

                        I found myself searching my mind for descriptive word; but the phosphorescent blanket covering my entire panoramic view was very difficult to describe.  I saw an encompassing force field created by emanations that flowed outward from the material form and vibrated to the rhythm of that form.  I noticed that there were no shadows; there was no sensation of cold and no sensation of heat.  There was only a gentle, summer, breeze and a soft radiance that was magically and mysteriously blending with the light of its own body.  From my vantage point the characteristics of this self-luminescence, phosphorescent blanket were:

A. A ponderable body – The phosphorescent blanket had mass.  I felt it had a state or quality about it that I could mentally weigh.

B. Imponderable elements – I could not decipher its basic contents or function.

C. An imperceptible emanation – There were no recognizable sensations. 

                         As I began to scream louder and louder, I felt my heart palpitating in my own throat.  I was conscious of my rapid noisy breathing.  These bodily sensations intensified the dead silence as well as the restlessness I was experiencing. 

                         Shifting my gaze, and my focus, to the phosphorescent blanket I did not see anyone engulfed in the dark green matter.  I did not feel the matter creeping anywhere.  It appeared as if I was in no danger, at all.  Yet, I felt restless by the site and the silence.  So I screamed . . . screamed . . . and screamed. 

                         Then I heard a voice say, "Mom, are you OK?"

                      It was my daughter, who had been awakened by my scream.

                      I opened my eyes . . . and replied, "Yes.”

                      With my eyes opened, I continued to see the green matter.  I did not see the light in my room, even though my daughter had turned it on.

                        I closed my eyes again and waited for the image to disappear.  Then I heard my daughter say, “You were screaming in your sleep.  It was just a dream.” 

                       After a few seconds, the image disappeared.  Then I looked at my daughter and said, "I'm fine.  Someone once said that dreams are the royal roads to the knowledge of the images of the mind,” I continued. 

                        “Yes!  Sigmund Freud said that," she replied.

                        She waited quietly in my room and after a few minutes she asked again, "Mom, are you OK now?" 

                        I said, "I'm fine!  I was screaming because I was alone and could not hear anyone speaking." 

She replied, "Well, don’t forget that a man must go into silence or else he cannot hear God      speak.” 

                         Then she added, “I'm going to my room now, call me if you need me."

                          I said, "OK, good night Julie.”  She then turned my bedroom light off and left. 

                          For the next few minutes, my recollection was vivid.  Nevertheless, for a brief moment, my mind shifted to Macbeth, a very famous play I had read many times before.  In the Shakespearean Tragedy, Macbeth, there is a gripping scene at a dinner party.  A man, who was murdered by Macbeth, appeared to him in ghostly form.  With the exception of Macbeth, no one else at the dinner party was able to see the figure of this man.  As Macbeth tries desperately to get others to see the figure, his wife, Lady Macbeth, is slowly becoming more and more irritated.  Then, in a furious tone of voice, she whispered to her husband, “This is the very painting of your fear . . . when all’s done you look but on a stool.”  In desperation, Macbeth viciously replies: “If I stand here, I saw him!”

                               The strange sensation I had experienced in the dream was still with me. 

                                 So, I asked myself, “What is the truth?” 

                                 “Is this dream similar to Macbeth’s fear,” I continued.

           As I reviewed the dream in my mind, once again, I realized that there was nothing causing me harm.  Within myself, I felt the dead silence and the phosphorescent blanket.  For me, the silence was a sign of trouble.  For unknown reasons, I felt that trouble was there.  Anyone being aware could respond to the trouble, but I could see no one around me and I felt alone, restless and vulnerable.

           Then, in this retrospection, I felt a thirst sensation.  I turned my head to my right and saw a small night table.  I turned the night lamp on and saw where I had placed a pitcher of water before I went to bed that night.  On the same table was a copy of an article entitled “What is Truth.”  The article was an address given by Max Heindel on March 26, 1911.  It said in part, “In the exercises of the Rosicrucian Fellowship we have been given a splendid means of coming into touch with truth.  Our motto says, and the same was said by Plato and John, ‘God is Light.’  If we go to one of the great observatories and with the best telescope made look into space, we see that there is no boundary to light.  It is everywhere.  With the symbol of light there expressed comes the idea of the omnipresence and magnitude of the God whom we worship.  John, with mystic intuition, says in the first five verses of his gospel (which some use in the exercises of the Rosicrucian Fellowship), ‘In the beginning was the Word.’  Therein we have a marvelous solution of the problem, for which we are seeking, because when we go back to the beginning, we are in the realm of truth.

         “At the present time we have sunk into matter, and are incapable of coming into contact with truth directly; but when we go back in thought to the beginning of things, then we are in thought with God and more capable of recognizing truth.  For that reason the probationer in the Rosicrucian Fellowship is taught to go back in thought to that time.

           ‘And what about the darkness;’ some one asks, ‘is that evil?’  No, there is nothing evil in God’s universe.  During the day we perceive by the light of the sun the glories of this little earth that swings in space.  Perhaps if there were only sunlight we should perceive nothing beyond this earth and remain ignorant that there is more than sun and moon.  But when night comes and the glories of the day have faded, when the sun no longer illumines the sky, we can realize to a certain extent at least the immensity of space; we can see worlds millions and millions of miles away.  The soul is thereby stimulated to wonderful devotion as we dwell upon the truth that God is all in all.”

            By the use of retrospection, I was led to the realization that the retrospection exercise, itself, had brought me to the truth behind the dream.  I analyzed the above quote and I realized that, in the dream, I had been too quick to judge the silence and the phosphorescent blanket and had failed to see the entire picture.  Then I returned to the retrospection exercise, I fell asleep again and continued the dream exactly as above.  This time, however, I did not scream.  I simply said to myself that I had nothing to fear and I slept until the following morning, obviously without fear. 

           The next morning the dream was still vivid in my mind.  Along with the recollection was a sense of peace.  That peace reminded me that solid matters must become ideas before man’s sixth sense, intuition, can perceive them.  Then, in order to be comprehended by his seventh sense, which is pure wisdom, it must dissolve into spirit.  Perhaps this is the reason why most of us appear to be very intelligent in hindsight.  At this time, I was convinced that the dream had the characteristics of enlightenment. 

            To appreciate the changes that took place within me, in the dream, let me entertain the most basic idea of this topic. 

            On page 123 of The Web of Destiny, we are told that, “God is Light, and not even the greatest of modern telescopes which reach many millions of miles into space have found the boundaries of light.  But we know that unless we have eyes wherewith to perceive the light, and ears which register the vibrations of sound, we walk the earth in eternal darkness and silence; similarly, to perceive the Divine Light which alone can illuminate our spiritual darkness, and to hear the voice of the silence which alone can guide us, we must cultivate our spiritual eyes and ears; prayer, true scientific prayer, is one of the most powerful and efficacious methods of finding favor before the face of our Father, and receiving the immersion in spiritual light which alchemically transforms the sinner to the saint and places around him the golden wedding garment of Light, the luminous soul body.” 

           To understand the role a dream of this type plays in our lives, we must commence by giving value to the questions generated by the dream.  There is a famous saying which states that "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder."  In the silence, I saw only trouble.  Yet, in retrospect, the silence was a sign of peace.  The silence of the telephone caller represented my peaceful life.  There was peace within and around me.  As the beholder, I needed to see that the silence represented peace.  How interesting, to have peace come out of a restless situation. 

             In his book, The Rosicrucian Mysteries, Max Heindel said, “Sound from a vacuum cannot be heard in the Physical World, but the harmony which proceeds from the vacuous cavity of a celestial archetype is ‘the voice of the silence,’ and it becomes audible when all earthly sounds have ceased.  Elijah heard it not while the storm was raging; nor was it in evidence during the turbulence of the earthquake, nor in the crackling and roaring fire, but when the destructive and inharmonious sounds of this world had melted into silence, ‘the still small voice’ issued its commands to save Elijah’s life.”  [p. 71]

             The phosphorescent blanket covered a life gently moving about.  That life was giving off light without noticeable heat or combustion.  I was that life.  Atoms shining like phosphorous that float out into the atmosphere, enter into, and help to create the substance of that other world.  This peculiar personalized emanation is an atomic essence and it rises and continually ascends from all humans.  In esoteric relationships, solid matter and man’s body can meet through the sense of touch.  However, solid matter must be expanded to the fluid state before it is appropriate to man’s sense of taste.  It must become vapor before our olfactory glands can detect it, decode it and smell it.  Following along these lines, it must become ether before it can be heard.  The eyes do not behold the ethereal waves of sound.  They are attuned only to the sense of hearing.  Moreover, solid matter must become essence before our eyes can capture its image, focus upon it and ultimately see it.  

              The great German mystic and theologian, Meister Johannes Eckhart once said: “The knower and the known are one.  God and I are one in knowledge . . . there is no distinction between us.”  The phosphorescent blanket was my exterior.  From underneath the blanket the life was not aware of the peace it was radiating to others.  Each degree of substance is real in relation to the world to which it belongs.  Matter in the material world and spiritual substance in the spiritual world.

               In conclusion, this dream experience taught me that the “Mastery of disharmony is in the silence and in the expectation that the restlessness will bring enlightenment.  

 

 

–Alexandra Porter

 

 

 

HOME

LECTURES

PHOTOS

LINKS

 

 Living with Christ

Edited by Alexandra Porter

aum_morrar@netzero.net

This Website is hosted for free by Tripod.  We are not responsible by the banners at the top of our webpages.