The Tao Of The Paranormal

We are a remarkable locus of what could be best described, an anomaly within a manifestation. You occupy two states simultaneously, one is local, visible, and traceable and the other, non local, invisible and lacking a verifiable position. Much like the paranormal we pursue with a stalking cap, we could easily be classified as the same intermediary phenomenon, that we assume is the exception to our own rules, on the board game we utilize as a cartography..

If that were not disorienting enough to dissuade us from looking from without ourselves for a demonstrable paradox, positioned between the local and non local states we wear a mask ,positioned at a third state as a intermediary organ of digestion, a persona used to turn the raw material of the senses as a seeming bracket, into this experience of being two places at once, which one could call a role, or cultural charade created with utility or practicality to make each of us identifiable, as well as to integrate us into a proverbial anthropomorphic hive of your species activities. At times this synthetic organ akin to the processing chip that allows me to type these words as well as your reading them, makes any objective, or subjective conjecture, whether they be classified facts or non facts, the subject of perennial disputes. Does the inside define the outside or does the outside define the inside?

Our biology, when viewed in this frame could be said to be an adaptation of the local to the non local or the other way round. Once this is said to be a reasonable proposition, the hierarchy of the chicken or the egg becomes a footnote, highlighted in bold face or italics, left with a note attached to it, "must return to further investigate". Over time, this note yellows, turns into a blurred, indecipherable abstraction, relegated to a dust covered box in the attic, whose main living quarters is a fourth state, which over time becomes what could politely be called, a play upon agreements, a consensus of utility of which we say, very blithely, as if in the throes of amnesia, a singular reality. Someone aptly stating that this is as if we lived our entire lives in one room of a mansion. Perhaps this is similar to living within the paradigm of a flat earth, and that to others, this singular plane,or dimension, or perhaps more explicitly, to them we appear to be stick figures.

Naturally,beyond the disputes of the subjective, we become bogged down in issues of ownership, self legislated critical assumptions, rules, borders and laws of defining the acceptable from the unacceptable, as if we could imprint a water mark on the atmosphere, or the clouds which roll past, well beyond the reach of destination signage, mile markers or any text we chose to scan. None the less, from the vantage point of a non human species, we arrive and depart, generation after regeneration, sound asleep in the arms of a persuasive dream. How would you communicate or even begin to do so, if you were not human, which calls into question or perhaps further investigation why the majority, if not all that we label the paranormal is very similar to the chimeric phenomenology of a dream in a language that corresponds to our own state and station? It cannot be so says the response, we are the lens through which reality flows. However, the rejoinder is "Which One?"

If you accept this proposition, place yourself in their shoes. What you will hear as a visualized reaction from them, as I have had, after decades of research, is the older relation tip toeing down a proverbial hallway in broad daylight, past the children's bedroom, in the midst of which is one reminding the other, "Sssssh..they are asleep..."

The Tao of A Child's Illustrated Companion

I was sitting on a rock and across from me was a spindly alien. Between us was a campfire. He was wearing a cowboy hat. "Thanks for the hat" he said.
"Did I give that to you?"
"Yes"
"I dont recall that"
"The reason you don't recall it was that I gave it back to you after you gave it to me"
"What, that doesn't make any sense"
"I wear it because you possess it"
"What?"
" This is a dream which is yours, not mine. If you had a dream that was mine, you would never comprehend my dream, and so all of this is a translation you have afforded or gifted me with, and so I return your gift to you."
" So who possesses the hat?"
" There is no hat"
"What do you mean?, its on your head."
" It's clothing, and you know what clothing is."
" Are you saying now that clothing does not exist?"
" I am saying it's only a reference point, a metaphor, once again, a dream."
" Alright, if this is a word pointing to something else, then why, if it is something else, does it have so many shapes, forms, and metaphors, because, that when you when you combine, or compare them they make no sense at all?"
" Each according to their understanding. In reality, you have no common language."
" Is this another metaphor?"
"Yes"
"Many languages are needed, the mathematician sees the dream as an equation, the metaphysician sees it as symbols, the common folk see it as magical, the physicist sees it as inter-dimensional, the religious see it as angelic or devilish, the animists see it as nature, the technological as vehicles, and so on and so on, the combinations are endless."

In the midst of this dialog I awoke with a jolting recognition that I was once again, in the local realm. In retrospect, upon gathering together a basketful of my orientations over morning coffee, I came upon a deep sense of uncertainty as to my state. I asked myself, Did I awake or did I return to yet another dream? The Paranormalist dons his disguise, or could the Paranormalist be a non human attempting to unravel the anomalies of his own realm? Good question.