MappingMeaning: Akara - Judith Blum
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MappingMeaning: Akara




A Creation Story (1)

The Image

All creation stories begin at the beginning, before everything, when there is only mystery from which all life flows. They occur before time, in space not known, or not yet delineated, in a paradigm we cannot think or bind by any words. Nevertheless, creation spins and spirals, and engages, and turns. Somehow. Always. Every era, every decade, every millisecond. Creation is creating.


Imagine a place – or a not-a -place (both are true) – into which everything is gathered. The All is collapsed into itself in an unimaginable density and the Void fills into a nothing that has resulted, and the being of everything is of a very minuscule intensity, and the non-being of everything is occupied everywhere as nowhere and, as these are at their most extreme they don’t know one another at all but are held one against the other as two extremes separated and isolated.

In these extremes, the consciousness(2)of each believes itself to be the absolute. Absolute All and absolute Void. Yet when each discovers the border of its self, it recognizes an urge to expand and this becomes a malaise that is elusive and ill defined at first, but one which creates an intense pressure that pushes against the limits of each, the one as dense and the other as non-dense. In so doing, sets itself up against its own borders.

The polarities of each become more obvious to each as this longing grows to self awareness. And in this self awareness, both as a limit and as an opportunity for expanding beyond the limit, each looks beyond their limits. Suddenly the limits are known, and the source of the malaise becomes a longing to grow to a clarity that seeks Other. That loves Other.

It is like a person who, alone, senses that there is more to life than this one self-ness. And when it finds Other, remarkable mate, it knows something whole that was not before. It was whole before Other as a singularity, but it is whole again with Other as a duality. These are both true.

There’s a sound that happens at creation. Immediately after the longing is recognized, a movement occurs and it sets up a vibration that sings. I listen intently and it is of angels, a choir, a high sweet sound like rain on a parched ground if we could hear the trees singing and sighing, like moon falling on a frozen pond igniting flames in the suspended crystals, a resonance of glory that speaks of light turned to sound. There are no words for these things. We speak of form. It is not informed, so words cannot serve, will not serve.

Creation is a vibration, and it makes sound.

The spark that ignites a sudden burst of energy from being to non-being is mystery. The One rises into the Other and the Other rises into the One. This is paradox. The One (which is one or the other) rises to other and in this duality there is a third. Two rising into Other is an expression of the potential of One. Some of us call it love as a way of identifying the magical things that allow for creation. Longing is part of that. Portal. Devotion. Ability to seek outside one’s limits. Expansion.

Once the being and the non-being have fully expanded into one another, the lines between each are blurred. They merge and the difference between being and non-being is completely lost as both are neither one nor the other absolutely, but are both. In this expansion and embrace, their boundaries are erased. But at that same instant, at the apex of this mergence, a contraction occurs as each seek to re-establish their identity. They begin to redefine, to escape the liminal blurring of their beings.

This is the breath of creation. It happens at all levels of reality. It occurs in the astronomically magnificent in which light years does not begin to measure the inhalation and the exhalation of All and Void, in which a single explosion creates a universe. Meanwhile, here in this room, my cells are enacting a similar dance, as they enter and exit the world of form, the world of being and non-being. It happens in world history, it happens across galaxies, it happens for artists, it happens for a table. We blink into reality like strobes.

One into Other, and back again, singing out of my intention to be an identity, and then falling into non-being. My form sings itself into creation, over and again, so that I make the world with my intention and my longing.

Shift in and out of any paradigm, and there you will find this breath, the expansion and the contraction, all of it fuelled by longing for Other, in love and in intention of conscious experiencing.

Just before the beginning there is mystery, a great unknown. Just before the beginning, nothing is known and may never be known. The matter of the All has merged into a density of being that is whole and unified, in a pressure and longing of itself as a brilliant light against a void of darkness. The power of longing, to be other, the longing to merge in Other, to be brilliant light in the darkness, to be the darkness in the light, is like a bridge through which matter passes, back and forth, singing itself of its love for Other in this dance, rhythmic and seductive. Light calls in the dark. Dark calls in the light. The passage from one to the other is barely noticeable, but in a blink we go from one to the other and back again. The breathing of this movement is everywhere happening. It is creation not as a single event, but as a birthing in astronomical persistence and grandeur. A birthing that never ceases to rise and never ceases to contract, breathing. In the Universe and galaxies, in the lungs, in the cells. Energy blinks in and out of creation, forming and re-forming itself.


(1) This is a creation story that was generated in a workshop with Claude Poncelet. His book is an excellent introduction to Shamanic Practice. See bibliography for more.
(2) Perhaps consciousness is a word that is misleading. Is a magnet conscious of its polar opposite, its attraction from a negative to a positive pole? But let us assume a consciousness in all energy, in all states of being, and that any movement – no matter how abstract it may seem – has a consciousness, an urge, a reaction to something that is both a part of it and outside it.

Loving comments are encouraged. 

What is your experience reading this story? Are you left with questions?  Do you desire clarification?  Have you resonated with the author’s views?

Please share your comments below. 

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