He or she is simply their creator, and he or her creates because he or she does not attempt to control.
When we try to control power or people, we always copy. To some extent the world copies itself, in that there are patterns. Those patterns are always changed to one extent or another, so that no object is ever a copy of another–though it may appear to be the same.
In our terms, the world is intensely different from one moment to another, with each smallest portion of consciousness choosing its reality from a field of infinite probabilities. Immense calculations, far beyond our conscious decisions as we think of them, are probable only because of the unutterable freedom that resides within minute worlds inside our skull– patterns of interrelationships, counterparts so cunningly woven that each is unique, freewheeling, and involved in an infinite cooperative venture so powerful that the atoms stay in certain forms, and the same stars shine in the sky.
The familiar and strange are intimately connected in our most obvious, our simplest utterance. We are surrounded by miracles. Why, then, does the world so often seem dour and cruel? Why do our fellow beings, sometimes seem like unfeeling monsters–Frankenstein not of body but of mind, spiritual idiots, ignorant of any heritage of love or truth or even graceful beast-hood? Why does it seem to many of us that the race, the species, is doomed? Why do some of us feel, in our quiet moments, such a sentence just?
We make our own reality.
We do not understand the of properties the soul or body, yet the body was given to us so that we could learn from it. The properties of the physical and the earth are meant to lead us into the nature of the soul. We create physical reality, yet without knowing how we do , so that the wondrous structure of the earth itself is meant to lead us to question our own source. Nature as we understand it is meant to be our teacher. We are not its master.
To some extent we realize that the world has physical contents, existing at one time yet varying in their characteristics. In those terms, the world is composed of its physical ingredients. That “package” is the only part of the picture that we see, however.
Psychically, our world is composed of the contents of its consciousness. We have maps or continents and oceans, and in the entire view each portion is like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, all fitting together perfectly, smoothly flowing into the natural structure of the world. So at any given time there is a world consciousness, a perfect jigsaw of awareness in which each identity, however large or small, has its part.
There are earthquakes that erupt physically, and tracings are made of them. There are also inner earthquakes of consciousness from which the physical ones emerge–storms of mind or being,eruptions in which one segment of the world consciousness, repressed in one area , explodes in another.
If we could orbit our planet in a different kind of craft, we could view the psychic content of the world, seeing the world consciousness shining far more brilliantly than any lighted city. We could spot the point of intense activity, see the birth of new myths and the death of old ones as certainly as we might be able to see a mountain slide or a tidal wave. The physical portions of the earth are all related. So does consciousness form its own kind of inner structures from which, the physical ones emerge. We are indeed counterparts, then, each of the other. Yet as there is great variety to physical form, so counterparts follow a still more expansive inner freedom that finds an even greater diversity of characteristics.
I am not telling you that each if us do not have a soul to call our own. We are a part of our soul. It belongs to you, and you to it.
Memories exist as patterns. In this life, each of us come together and part, come together and part again, forming a counterpart relationship when it suits our purposes, as streams of consciousness mix and merge, and then separate.
These counterparts are psychic, relationships, formations that in the deepest terms flow into historic time and out of it. Some, in our terms, last a lifetime. Others represent psychic encounters that happens between two individuals at several points, say, but are not continuous. They may be no less intense, however.