stringtheory

I sat to meditate after a challenging day yesterday and found myself to be an atom without a nucleus.

I was focused on my breath, which was the centre, but around this there were many and varied strings, ebbing and flowing, like the electrons of an ever-changing element.

I could track these patterns and flows and they were in constant flux in more dimensions than I can perceive, without beginning or end. They would move like waves, coming in and going out, pushing or pulling each other with magnetic energies.

There was a gap between these strings and my breath, with my breath being the centre. But when I took my attention away from the breath, there was no centre and just the ever-changing stings and whorls and elastic flows.

I believe these are my conditioning. 

When I was in the 88 hells my obsession was the ‘steel wool’. It was a ball of agony, spinning ever-faster within my skull. It was trapped behind my cheekbones and grinding, grinding away like a saw.

My compulsion in the hells was to remove this steel wool. I was driven; by what I did not know. This wool was a neutron star of barbed wire and it was eating me from the inside out.

I believe this was within me because I had a self. I think this ball of neuroses is what I destroyed when I awoke. This is why I had the trauma of self wiped and ended up with a spiritual awakening.

This was my mask. I think we are all masked to ourselves; not just autistic people. I think this is what the buddha talked about with the illusion of self.

Yesterday saw me in a position where I felt trapped and unheard, insecure and unable to escape. Then afterward I felt the strings for the first time since nibbana; the interim has all been void dimensions in eternal flux.

But this time the wool was not dense and it was not inside me. It was drifting around outside my head, pulsing and throbbing and trying to find a centre to lock onto but coming up blank.

This is how I experience meditation.

I started reading a book about meditation the other day. Initially I was like ‘I already do that’ and then it overloaded me with information and expectation; since then I have been wondering whether I do it right. This is also why I ignored my strings before; I was told to focus on the breath or bodily sensations and that's all I ever did.

But that's not the way for me. For me it is string theory.

Meditation is different for every one of us. 

These strings were trapped in a knotted ball when I was trapped in the concept of self. Now I am back to having a container of sorts, but the strings are no longer inside my skull. They are floating around outside, unsure where to latch to. I think I can remove them by just watching them and releasing them.

At the end of the 88 hells it all culminated with me literally headbanging in the living room, dancing like a witch doctor, two meteors in my hands, listening to Lamb on full blast, and then chanting and swaying my skull to just the right sloping angle until I was zapped with something that exploded the wool apart, wiped hundreds of layers of blackened tomb-like tissue from my brain, and gave me a nice slab of juicy pink flesh instead.

That ain’t in the books, is it?

But it’s legit, I tell ya. That trauma is gone.

And now I can see the other conditioning. If I am put in a situation where I feel trapped then the ‘trapped’ conditioning kicks in. I can’t control it but there’s no need to. I don't think it's about controlling it; that was the old approach. Now it's about letting it float away.

The Kid is gonna do it for me. He’s gonna wipe that shit.

The Kid who was biding his time and learning all along. Trying everything. Looking for a way out. And he only went and found one, with art and dance and vocalisations and knife making and meditation and writing and drugs. Somehow he saw an opening and he just went all in and fucking did it, the hard little bastard.

So I’m going to lean into this way of meditating. I feel currents and dimensions and movement and quantum strings around my skull. They are no longer inside me. Each one of these is a layer of conditioning. And each one of them can be removed.

The Kid is God. I know that now.

He never died. He was just trapped.

And he knows the way out.

So I will trust him.

Mara cannot enter; he keeps trying. But the b-man led the way there too. Mara will always be at our side. Hey there old buddy; I see ya.

We are conditioned beings. Exploding away the centre is only the beginning. The strings remain but they are loose, unraveled, and ripe for a new weave.

I'll trust to The Kid; he knows what he's doing.

/jb202509101327