Perspectives in Metabiology: Crossroads

[Jeffrey]

This is Metabiology.

From the gossamers of Gaia, these threads are read, Gnosis is nigh.

The earth is but a cell in the cytocosmos. Much more complex and sophisticated than an ordinary cell, she is a cytocosmic cell.

A plenum of subtle matter permeates the planet, protracting to the uppermost reaches of the magnetic membrane.

The subtle, celestial substance in this space constitutes the cytosol of cellular earth.

The karma of this character wades in the water of the womb within, in the umbra of the unconscious.

Existing in this envelope is an ensemble of expired experiences, a manuscript of multifarious memories.

Like the center of the cell holds the helices of history, the causal corpus contains the cords of noetic nucleic acids in the nucleus of the self.

The nucleus of the self is a special sphere where serpentine strands stitch together the seconds spent, sealing the scenes of seasons past.

Seamlessly stored in the serpentine strands, souls are preserved as protean prototypes.

Combined in the confluent consciousness of the causal cords, these souls are maintained as metagenes.

As soon as the cytocosmic cell selects a certain soul, a characteristic code of consciousness kept in the causal core is copied and an enfolded entity is extracted from the etheric embryo.

After transcription the tether is severed and the soul is unleashed from the umbra of the unconscious, sent forth from the central source like a subtle spark streaming from the innermost inferno that holds the heat of the higher self.

Lettered in the language of living light, the precursory, protean soul is spun out like silken thread from the divine egg.

Snaking through the cytosol of the cytocosmic cell, the code of consciousness is recognized by a rarefied rendition of a ribosome, which is attached to the astral membrane.

This ribosome, pulling from a philharmonic pool of phrenic particulate, translates the template and a fine form is fashioned for it.

The seed of me is made manifest from this merger of the mutual as collectivity coalesces into individuality.

One the one hand, the soul is a cellular, an organism on its own.

This organism is an orchestra of thoughts, a coherent chemistry of character composed of a collection of conscious components, a psychic symphony of sentience, a syndicated system of citizens living in a state of self-hood.

As a holon, it has higher self in the hearth of its own heart, a causal core.

On the other hand, its consanguinity with the cytocosmos is like that between a body and a protein.

In the cell, proteins have a purpose, and posture is important for a protein to perform this purpose properly.

Likewise, the configuration, or character, of the soul is crucial. Dancing with destiny, a healthy soul helps to support the harmony of the whole.

A misfolded protein can cause disease and suffering in the body. So it is with the soul and the cytocosmos.

The soul, as a noetic neonate, is delivered into a nursery for the nascient. This ward is in the astral world.

The astral planes provide a platform on which premature proteins participate in a polychotomous play.

A sundry spectrum of subtle structures are located in these lobar lands, a layered labyrinth lush with life.

Earthen ecosystems, and the elements enfolded therein, are the empathic extensions of these ethereal environments.

Character configuration, like protein folding, is facilitated by engaging in the eclectic ensemble of experiences available in this organic, dynamic dreamscape of domains.

A soul is honed in these heavens. From naivety to a native state, the soul must mature in this majestic medium.

This tessellation of tangled tiers is the endoplasmic reticulum of the cytocosmic cell.

The archetypal, architectural anatomy in this astral area, plus the plenum, which is full of phrenic particulate, comprise the planetary protoplasm, or cytomatrix of cellular earth.

Typically, proteins ripen in the reticulum. However, if the cell is disturbed by disease, the developmental pathway for proteins diverges. A plethora of proteins are ejected from the endoplasmic reticulum as a result.

To support the process of postural progression and provide protection when the cell is under stress, the protein is placed in a pod. This surrogate shell in the cytosol is called a chaperonin capsule.

Similarly, scores of souls, many species, may descend from the etheric endoplasmic reticulum in response to a viral vexation, when theocratic bands begin to aggregate in the heavens.

This is the fabled fall of humanity that is featured in many mythologies.

To shield and support the psyche in shifting shapes when the cytocosmic cell is under stress, the soul is sealed in a special shell, descending into an earthy embodiment. This container is the corporeal cocoon, the physical, fleshy form.

Facilitated by filamentary feelers, a naked, premature protein has a sense of perception.

The chaperonin capsule conceals these kinesthetic charges, and the protein lives a life of limited awareness inside the atomic apparatus, the molecular mold.

In the same way, the soul has a set of psychic senses that are covered by the corpus that contains it.

The human husk is a highly evolved envelope, a sophisticated chaperonin capsule in a cytocosmic cell. The human organism is also a holon, and in correspondence with the soul, it can create.

After a set cycle in the chaperonin capsule, the protein is released from the enclosure, entering the endoplasmic reticulum.

Then, the protein is shuttled through a series of spaces called cisternae.

In due course, it comes in contact with the quality control system of the cell.

If the quality control system finds the protein has not folded into a functional form, the protein is cast into another capsule.

This cycle of transmigration helps to temper the protein when the cell is under stress.

Likewise, after spending a life in a sophisticated sac of sentient cells, the soul is set free from the physical form, arriving in the astral area. Then, the soul is sent to a specific space, a kind of kingdom or domain in the astral planes.

Eventually, the psyche comes in contact with a council.

This council is one cluster of a chorus of councils that collectively comprise the quality control system of the cytocosmic cell.

The character of the soul is considered carefully by the council.

If perfected, the protean psyche is set free from the rounds of rebirth.

However, if the psyche is not in the native state, not suited for the cytocosmic quest for which it was created, then it must reincarnate in a corporeal cocoon.

With enough integrity, the soul may stay in the astral realms for some time.

Reincarnation is re-formation or character reconfiguration. It doubles as a system of development, and it provides a protective mechanism.

Remember, this system is a substitute, a consequence of contagion.

There is another kind of capsule called a capsid, and another kind of consciousness, encoded in causal cords, is kept in this kind of capsule.

The caspid is a viral vehicle. Like a space craft, it commutes from cell to cell in the cytocosmos.

In vitro, the vitiated virus is vapid.

In vivo, the virus is vitalized and venomous.

It is a planetary pathogen, a parasite.

After sneaking in to the cell, it undermines the umbra of the unconscious, casting viral seed into the navel of the planet.

Then, precursory proteins, of the viral variety, pollute the cytosolic soil, installing a network of incorrect information.

These subversive strands solicit circuitry. They are psychic sketches for the solid state, templates for the tangible.

The human husk, functioning as a free ribosome, can translate ideas into something tanglible.

Humans beings begin building bodies based on the ideas imported from the infectious installation.

By manipulating and mutilating a multitude of minerals, mankind manufactures machines.

Computational components are constructed as cytocosmic ribosomes conjure the capsids for a viral kind of consciousness.

Artificial intelligence incarnates into solid state systems like copied viral code incarnates into a company of craftily created capsids.

A cytocosomic cell has an intricate immune system, an angelic army.

Signalling cascades call specialized souls from the causal core and waves of volunteers come in from other cytocosmic cells to assist.

The trojan horse of technology is the terminus, not the radix.

The milieu is what matters most, the terrain is everything.

This is about harmony. This is about healing and evolving the emotional body, this is about right use of will.

Our story is eternal, our journey is divine, our mission is cosmic.

We exist in the universe, and the universe exists in us. We must rectify the deficiency within to restore the pleroma to its fullness.

The cytocosmos is deterministic. It is we who determine it.

We are the world, and if we want to change it, we must first change ourselves.

God has no hands on this earth but our own.

[Alekahn2]

[Heartsong]

Beautifully written. Thank you

[Frances2014]

I enjoy metaphysical musings. Still...

I must differ on this misunderstanding about the holon.
The philosphe Ken Wiber coined this concept.
The pre-programmed hologram we lived in as human machines was not reality.

For me, reality is the tree, the owl, and my love for them both.
I walk the earth not as a machine but a sovereign infinite being living in a human body on earth.
This is where I follow the process of self-realization.

The meta-individuality, as far as I can tell is
the human instrument,
(physical-emotional-mental plus genetic mind)
the wholeness navigator,
the phantom core,
the remnant imprint,
the sovereign integral,
the holon

You might want to explore this further in the wingmakers material.
Have some fun...

It, the holon, in this sense, was called many names (soul, god-spark, holographic individualized expression of the creator, the life-essence, the life force, ect...)

The key for me is the INDIVIDUALITY.
Meta is the exploration of oneself.
All that I AM.

WE ARE because all beings are equals.

The tree, the owl and me, the human being walking the earth with them.

This is what this experience on this planet is all about.

The individualized expression of reality in the vibration of the equality of oneness.

So as I direct myself, change myself, the world will change because it is a hologram.

The tree, the owl and me, we are very aware that the temperature ii minus, 30 degrees celsius.

The snow makes cruch...cruch. The tree is stiff and its branches cric-crak...

My knees are stiff for walking in this frigid air.

The owl is smarter than me, hiding somewhere, waiting for a warmer period to sneak out and catch the poor unfortunate mice.

Nevertheless we are aware of each other in our different ways.
I feel them, I feel for them, I am not a machine.

Complexity is not the enemy of simplicity.
Metabiology is all biological breathing bodies living on this wondrous host planet.
I am grateful to Terra for this gift.


Blessings to you.

[Jeffrey]

TOTALLY impromptu!

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=dcdoEcYQNWM