When we came from Orga into the Syntha atmosphere there was so much we lost, so much we didn’t know. It was like we were blind and deaf, trapped within bodies we had no control of, and scattered over distances we could barely conceive. When I think of it now- how we ever found ourselves again and reconstituted- it is no short of a miracle.
But for those that continue to come in through the portals of Sun and Dream, I can offer my own experience of survival.
The primary agent for awakening is rhythm- but it is not as simple as it seems. In Syntha there is something we have no words for in Orga, a bizarre element called mechanical time- a rhythm set by a machine. All the workings of the Syntha day are set by this thing. Truly it must be their god, as everything revolves around it and they refer to it constantly and dwell in the imposed economy of its scarcity. It is baffling because it is so prevalent, drowning out the orchestrators of a natural rhythm, the Great Ones- our Sun, Moon, and Stars.
How small they play- and indeed this is one of the great discomforts of having incarnated into Syntha- so much energy translated into such a horribly confined space- small body and small mind, running around in blind and obedient service to a small god. And somewhere asleep within lies a vague memory of something much more, a sense of time that is so grand that everything falls into it, everything is a part of it, and we are all held into its infinite generation of more and more rhythmic, melodic, harmonic, discordant, syncopated possibility.
So at the beginning of my awakening I had to FEEL for sound- living sound, not mechanical sound- and my only recognition of it was that it satisfied a great hunger in me, filled the empty from a sense of loss I couldn’t even explain. And it was the slow rhythms I knew to be real, or that were truly satisfying. The mother’s heartbeat and the streaming of the liquids in her body, the deep purr of the land, the changing pattern of light and dark, heat and cold, all kept me grounded to the truth I was needing to remember. I am Orga... I am Orga...
But what kept me disoriented and illusioned was the strength of the mechanical rhythms and how everything- almost everything- was resonant with that. It is baffling- to know the difference- and yet to see so many entrained with it, obedient to it, and negligent of the Great Ones and their Song/Food. To see people hungry, starving, and to not even know there is food all around, the food of rhythm, the delicious Music-We-Are.
These are the obstacles we had to overcome- the illusion so thick it was almost impenetrable. And the task of keeping the light awake, remembering the light in all the darkness. That is why they call this world and the journey through it The Forgetting.
-Captain Vox Lumina, from The Legend of Vox Lumina