CONVERSATIONS
WITH THE COSMOS
A journal from the edge of seeing
02. October 26th
Walking into
Silence...
Before the descent, there was silence. And a Light I did not want to lose.
Name 7: DNA of the Soul
Aleph Kaf Aleph – Restoring the Original Light
Work-in-progress
The three letters of Aleph Kaf Aleph add up to twenty-two, the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet. Together, those twenty-two letters form the DNA of the soul, the original pattern we can return to any time life feels fragmented or we have lost touch with who we truly are.
It started with the Light
The colours chose themselves, leaping out from their places on the table. I squeezed cadmium yellow in a thick, wavy line and drew a window squeegee across the horizon. The colour moved through my body, settling in my heart with a serene joy. Next came cadmium orange and red, swept across the canvas in broad brushstrokes.
It felt like pure beauty, the first layer. And I did not want to touch it.
But I already knew these paintings do what they want, and this beginning was destined for utter obliteration.
At first I resisted, and painted bright colours over that base layer, following the original marks, believing I could hold off the inevitable. But the fluorescent pink, bright purple, pale blue, and sap green were the wrong frequency. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I accepted that the pure innocence had been covered over by niceties.
Hello, ego.
Work-in-progress — The descent into the ten curtains
Behind the curtain
What happens next depends less on my will than on what the canvas asks of me: to leave the Light behind, enter the darkness, and embrace the unknown.
Walking into silence meant walking into the very fabric of our making, into the DNA of the Soul. I did not take this journey alone. A dear friend, who is also my guide, held me in prayer as I travelled through the realms, through the ten curtains, the ten dimensions, each a little darker than the last.
The following layers went on gently, almost apologetically, still resistant to covering the original Light. Thin layers of white washes danced across the canvas. And as the layers thickened, grief remained my close companion, honouring what was becoming invisible.
One truth steadied me. The first layer holds the whole. Those first brushstrokes carried the intention of the Name. Whatever I covered, they were still underneath, doing their work without me.
The homeopath in me was certain of the task ahead: to hold the purity of light, even in the darkness.
Work-in-progress — The diminishing Light
Ten curtains deep
I closed my eyes and exhaled. Allowed the letters to enter my soul and continued painting. As I journeyed deeper, through the curtains, the marks on the canvas changed. Criss-crossed lines of black acrylic pen deepened my surrender. Washes of Mars black that hurt my heart to apply. Blocks of colour to anchor the painting's increasing depth.
I painted each night for months, and as the layers accumulated, the first Light disappeared beneath them. And with it, any sense of what was going to happen next.
Work-in-progress — Journeying through the dimensions
Into the silence
Silence can be terrifying. It is not stillness, but a quiet waiting of everything, and it calmly dissolves the stories we thought were us. Maybe that is why we seldom walk into it.
Even as I write this, the words don’t come easily; they come the way the painting came, by descent, one layer at a time, by surrender.
I was sinking deeper into silence. But it was not still. It was the chaos of the universe forming, dismantling, and reforming, the world itself coming into being. Life was breathing itself into form, and I was breathing with it.
The portal of unknowing
My inner universe expanded as the Name spread across the canvas. I was entering the portal of unknowing. My certainties fell away, and my understanding of reality came undone.
I had read that the Name was used for protection, and that it was a garment for the Divine. What did such a garment conceal, and what did it reveal? As my own familiar coverings fell away, I wondered what in me needed protecting, and what I was being asked to surrender.
The questions chased me through the silence. None were answered. I kept painting.
The depths of darkness
As the painting darkened, I felt I had stepped out of this world and, at the same time, more fully into it. I had entered chaos, the birthplace of everything.
The canvas, now thick with layers of colour and black, no longer let the Light shine through. The darkness was impenetrable; nothing came back. The first layer lay buried beneath the ten curtains, the shadow of the ego’s mistaken idea of itself.
I had no understanding of the ten curtains. I turned to the physicists to draw myself a map. If I got lost in a deeper layer, I needed to know the way back to this one. Most of what I read made no sense. There was no way back written down.
Work-in-progress — The depths of darkness
“Put Light on ASAP!” came the message from my guide at 7.35 am. She is not one to raise alarm, and the urgency made me nervous.
Light cannot be applied quickly; it builds, layer by layer. I had only hours before my day job. Time was against me...