^Back To Top
Get Adobe Flash player

Login Form

Decent Into Identity

Just how much of identity is mutable? How long will it be, before I learn that growth includes all aspects and all walks. It’s not that I didn’t know this to begin with, just that my scope of the situation was different. Moving to a new city, there were many different things that were going to have to happen. Much as they had in most every other city…from Lost Angeles to Atlanta, Orlando to Seattle. I was going to go through a period of time when I didn’t know anyone…and they didn’t know me. It’s in this period of transition that I am finding myself lost without words…at the sheer awe of the potential and capabilities. The unimaginable numbers of different options that arise for the continuation of what I consider my Identity. An identity that until late was pretty solid and well known. Understood and perfected.

Then I moved from my home…which is what my identity at the time was based around. It is in this period of transition in which I have noticed the powers of rebirth, and creation stirring…the ability to make myself anyone in the world that I want…anyone that may be different than me…and I find myself constantly asking myself if I would want to change anything.
At the core are my principles: Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity and Personal Courage…which are at this point beyond questioning. These were part of my core army training…and as a result, are unquestionably set in my mind being a soldier to this day.

However, these principles are hardly the personality that makes up who and what I am. For that is where my questions arise. I find myself changing…doing and becoming things that I thought would never happen. Things I was sure I didn’t want to do ever again. Jogging, going back to school…generally becoming more things that I thought I had sworn off years ago.

It never fails to amaze me how the layers peel back and reveal only more layers. I notice deeper and deeper connections between myself, and the cycles that continue to present themselves, in cycles, with, to, from and for me. The more that I realize about myself (among other things), the more I am reminded that I know nothing. My identity has apparently shifted…quite without my consent. I find myself realigning with something else. A presence of something bigger, yet strangely familiar, like I’ve done this all before. This is what I am wondering about. This identity that seems to supersede the one I had in New Orleans. Oddly enough, it’s whether or not a city has its own identity that makes it worth living in…at least to me. New Orleans had its own identity, and I refer quite often to the “handpicked” of New Orleans…those whom she seems to hire, or find…or kidnap. And that’s what I looked for here in Seattle. I’m beginning to learn about this spirit here…this identity…as well as learn much more about identity in and of itself. What it is, and where it may come from.

Over the last five years, I have come to know something of myself that I call my “infinite self.” This is the existential consequence of becoming aware of the infinite self in an existence made up of mostly independent realities.

“In an objective and subjective multiverse, every decision that you make creates its opposite decision in a parallel existence, where each branch creates an infinite web of vibrating energy that sings the song of existence that is perceived as reality.” This is where the microcosm/macrocosm became even clearer to me, and I applied the same picture in my head, of an infinite number of exponential iterations of possibilities stretching out before me, to the consciousness…and its existence within each of those mostly independent parallel existences. This is what I refer to as becoming aware of your infinite self…as if you put the color red to “not aware” and blue to “aware,” you would see a great coalescing shape of red…begin slowly, from a point…to grow within the infinity that encompasses that consciousness in each of the infinite versions of existence. I look at it as an infection…just as a diagram…or a chain reaction. Each of the new versions of reality that you encounter through quantum entanglement now contain a piece of your consciousness that is aware of it’s self in other realities…past, present and future. You begin to watch and understand the absence of time when looking at things from this angle. How there is no past, and no future. Just the present. One unending moment in a state of progression. As a single aware consciousness spawns it’s own infinite number of progeny.

Now that you have a more physical representation of how I perceive this collective consciousness, and it’s interactions with itself…you may be able to see a little bit further into what just may be influencing me and my identity. My progression through the “archetypes.” The dramatic changes to who and what I am, when finally I needed more growth and less stagnation. I needed a fresh start. A chance to become myself all over again…only adding to my already large collection of friends and family, loved and lost. A chance to become better than I am.

Once you are familiar with the infinite self…and the potential that it has to communicate with itself, potentially across entanglement, you become familiar with the possibility that in another version of existence, I had already become a doctor…and being a part of my collective consciousness, now had access to some of the information that version of my consciousness contributed to the entire collective. It creates strange phenomena like remembering things that haven’t happened yet…and random spouts of insight and information coming from seemingly short bursts of intellectual revelation. Small loopholes, that when developed by intentional focus, can become like a fountain of information…though as far as I have found, seem to be on an “as needed” basis. At least that is when I seem to experience them. Not so much when I am concentrating or trying, but when I’m just kinda listening to the conversations that my consciousness is having with itself over it’s own little infinite space and time.

While playing close attention to this…let us for a moment, return back to this “shape” of consciousness that I have described for you. Let us for a moment, give it the shape and size of the earth…tied to it by location and experience. Now, let us look deeper into the collective identity that each place shares. Look at the similarities between types of people who end up in a single place…or another. They always say, “birds of a feather.” So while in New Orleans for instance, I would be surrounded by the pervading atmosphere of an almost silent yet perpetual spirit that seemed to be guiding the city. I would watch it in the daily workings of the buggy drivers and the nightly wanderings of the homeless and destitute. I was reminded of it time and time again before, during and after Katrina…when I had an argument with the nurses in the hospital who were convinced that we would not be having Mardi Gras, six months to the day later. Four days after the storm, the Southern Decadence parade marched through the French Quarter. Four months later, when I returned…those who had come home, began the daunting task of picking up the pieces and getting on with life…as the city had surely taught us to do time and time again. To this date, that is the only work that is being done in the city, by those who truly call it home, and hope to see it flourish again one day. And that became my identity. The strong proponent of the city herself…speaking with an authority that seemed to have been granted and learned from some “other place.” Once I moved however…that’s when things began to change.

Here in Seattle, I find myself being myself still, and amazingly adding new skills and challenges to my repertoire that seem to fit this city more than they fit me. They seem to fit some alien identity that only makes sense if I see it as “one possible version of me” that may have occurred within my own little infinity. The information that I seem to be seeking is of such a stark difference to the identity that I am used to in New Orleans. The identity that I call, “My horns hold up my halo and my wings cover my tail.” I find myself in situations that remind me of the choices that I made in my life…choices that run along my core principles that were drilled into me in the Army. Do my issues spring forth from Loyalty, or Selfless service? Am I to become whatever is needed at the moment that I am existing…in this version of reality? Being a Taoist, I can not refute this one bit…as I do practice, “through non-trying, endlessly following my way.” Now, I seem to be within a pocket…created as birds of a feather, as the infinite different variations or possibilities of me that all exist in the general area of my consciousness that is tied in with the city of Seattle, physically. The local cluster, if you will. Where each of these different variations now lend their learned information to me. Still on the “as needed” basis, though that is where the crux becomes apparent. On an “as needed” basis. It generally seems that my perceived warping of reality occurs somehow entangled with this “need” factor…a factor that I plan on focusing my attention on in the future.

Just think…what may be possible, if the blue “awake” color were to become the dominant color in your consciousness. What if the majority of your collective consciousness, as a whole, was aware of itself, in all versions of existence, and had the ability to share the information of each individual conjugate with the rest of the whole. What if the singular consciousness seen in each person is only a resulting creation of the physical body in each variation choosing a time and place to make an observation of a greater wave like event that makes up the entirety of the consciousness? Am I just a hologram, only visible from certain perspective points of view? Am I just a contingent that exists due to wave-particle duality? If I am, then what is at the center? What is the event that created the wave? What is the origination of my consciousness? Hehe…do I even have time to find out?

The Smokestacks