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Appendix XIV:

WHAT'S THE COSMIC JOKE?

"Beyond the sphere of understanding" is an expression I use in the book to communicate that mysterious notion developed before language, which advanced language, and is now able to go beyond language, as we knew it. It has been uncomfortable using such a phrase until I recently read Lex Hixon's meditations on the great Buddhist text: "The Prajnaparamita Sutra."  

That text itself says its understanding is the "understanding by way of nonunderstanding," its attainment "attained by not attaining," and so on. I would add: If one has already left behind the mis-understanding of "ego" as an entity, replacing it with the understanding of ego as merely "action," soon it is realized that "action" can be transcended or gone beyond.

By any definition: beyond understanding, reason fails; yet a "metadefinition" of understanding allows an understanding that is not as reasonable as you "think." With reasonable thinking, we presume an awareness that is limited, separable, and separative, yet without reasonable thinking, but thinking nevertheless, we can presume an awareness that is beyond and inseparable from our own.

If a Consciousness beyond ego were to reveal its nature or structure, how do you "think" it would go about it? Or, more significantly how would it make you "feel"? If both mind and heart are realms of reflexive observation, then "feeling-observation" (a phrase used in the book): is a way of expressing a reasonable and at the same time, sentient understanding or feeling-observation .

In my experience, the consequence of feeling-observation of an all-encompassing connection was bliss. While the thinking-observation consequence of being one was panic. Why panic you ask? Imagine you are thinking... "I am the only one in existence", and the paradox of observing "other" is absorbed into [y]our very "self", is this a game you think ... a play, a cosmic joke?

Of course one observes others in the play and that is the paradox and dilemma: Is that "otherness" dependent on you figuring it all out somehow? Atlas bore a mere feather on his shoulders compared to the weight "I" "imagined." Later with tacit plea to the cosmos ..."what am 'I' supposed to do"? The answer never came, and thankfully fears subsided into bliss and "I" moved on.

Next Appendix (#15)