Our own existence is implied therefore in everyone else’s and theirs is implied in us.
Languages gain their meaning largely from the pauses and hesitations between sounds. They obviously gain their meaning also because of the sounds not used, so that any one language also implies the existence of all others. To that extent, all other languages reside silently within any given spoken language. The same applies to language written upon a page. The written characters make sense because of their arrangement, and precisely because they are chosen over other characters that do not appear. In the same kind of manner, our focused existence is dependent upon all other existences that are not us presently. We are a part of them. We ride upon their existences, though we are primarily us and no other.
The same applies, however, to every other person. Each of them becomes a primarily focus or identity within which all others are implied. In Ordinary terms, we do not “make ourselves.” We are like a living language spoken by someone who did not originate it — the language was there for us to use. The language in this case is a molecular one that speaks our physical being. The components of that language or the earth elements that form the body were already created when we were born, as the alphabet of our particular language was waiting to be used.
Our very physical life, then, implies a “source,” a life out of which the physical one emerges, — the implied, unspoken, immaterialized, unsounded vitality that supplied the ingredients for the physical, bodily, molecular “alphabet.” Our physical life therefore implies a non-physical one. We take our particular “language” so for granted, and use it so effortlessly, that we give no thought at all to the fact that it implies other languages also, or that it gains its meaning because of inner assumptions that are never spoken, or by the use of pauses in which no sounds are made. We live our lives in the same fashion.
There are many languages, though most people speak one, or two, or three at most. Languages also have accents, each somewhat different while still maintaining the original integrity of any given language. To some extent we can learn to speak oneself with an accent, so to speak, in which case, still being oneself, we allow ourselves to take on some of the attributes of another “language.”
We can read the world in a different way, while still maintaining our own identity, or we can move into a different country of oneself that speaks our native language but with a different slant. We do this to some extent or another whenever we tune in to broadcasts to which we usually pay no attention. The news is slightly foreign, while it is still interpreted through the language that we know. We are getting a translation of reality.
The psyche, always in a state of becoming, obviously has no precise boundaries. The existence of one, implies the existence of all, and so any one given psyche comes into prominence also because of the existence of the others upon which its reality rides. One television station exists in the same manner, for if one could not be tuned into, theoretically speaking, none could.
These inner communications, reach outward in all directions. Each identity has eternal validity within the psyche’s greater reality. At one level, any person contacting his or her own psyche can theoretically contact any other psyche. Life implies death, and death implies life — that is, in the terms of our world. In those terms life is a spoken element, while death is the unspoken but still-present element “beneath,” upon which life rides. Both are equally present.
To obtain knowledge consciously other than usually available, we pay attention to the pauses, to the implied elements in language, to any felt or sensed quality upon which the recognizable experiences of life reside. There are all kind of information available to us, but it must be perceived through our own focus or identity.
All events occur at once — a difficult statement to understand. All identities occur at once also. Each event changes every other. Present ones alter past ones. Any one event implies the existence of probable events which do not “emerge,” which are not “spoken.” Physical world events therefore rest upon the existence of implied probable events. Different languages use sounds in their own peculiar manners, with their own rhythms, one emphasizing what another ignores. Other probabilities, therefore, emphasize events that are only implied in our reality, so that our physical events become the implied probable ones upon which other worlds reside.