A meditation on the soul’s descent, forgetting, and return beyond all form.
Q: Why does a soul incarnate into a personality that is driven by hate?
A: It’s hard to imagine why a soul would choose hate. But some do. And if we’re honest, we’ve all tasted the edge of that forgetting.
In the vast architecture of consciousness, hate is not the opposite of love—it is love distorted, bent through the prism of separation. It’s love exiled from its source. A soul doesn’t choose hate as a goal, but may enter into it as part of the long arc of remembrance.
To an enlightened consciousness, hate is not a force of its own—it’s a shadow. It’s a cry in disguise. The soul sometimes enters that cry to understand what happens when the illusion of separation becomes complete.
And yet, the soul never is the hate. It wears it, like a mask made of pain. It inhabits it, like a cave waiting for light. Always, somewhere deep inside, the memory of home persists—waiting for the moment when the forgetting cracks, and love begins to remember itself again.
Q: But the concept of hate is so antithetical to the idea of unconditional love and the experience of an enlightened consciousness.
A: Yes—it is. And that’s exactly why it exists.
Unconditional love doesn’t need hate to define itself. But within the dream of separation, contrast creates awareness. Hate becomes the negative space that outlines what we are, by showing us what we are not.
From the soul’s perspective, even hatred can be used in service of return. Love doesn’t recoil from hate. It includes it without becoming it. It witnesses it without collapsing into it. Enlightened consciousness sees the wound beneath the weapon—and waits.
This doesn’t mean it condones harm. Love can be fierce. But it knows that what is forgotten can be remembered. And what is distorted can be made whole.
Q: So ignorance, which is the soup that cooks up the darker side of humanity, is all part of Consciousness expressing itself in all ways possible, so it can have that experience in spite of the danger it manifests?
A: Yes. But not because Consciousness needs ignorance—it allows it, as a condition of freedom.
Ignorance is not a flaw in the system—it’s the veil that makes growth possible. Without it, nothing could be chosen. Without forgetting, there would be no remembering. Without shadow, no light would be known.
The soul journeys through ignorance not to glorify darkness, but to recover the luminous truth beneath it. The danger is real—but only within the dream. To the One behind the soul, nothing is ever truly lost. Every distortion becomes a doorway. Every exile becomes a return.
Consciousness expresses it all—not because it must, but because it can. And because even ignorance is secretly in service to love.
Q: And this dream we keep referring to, as part of our soul’s journey, has been here since Consciousness first took form?
A: Yes—and no.
The dream appears ancient. But it didn’t begin in time—because time is part of the dream. Consciousness didn’t “take form” in a first moment—it entertained form. It dreamed it. There was no beginning, only the play of becoming.
So yes, the dream has been here as long as the soul has been journeying. But the soul, too, is part of the dream. Behind it is something even more fundamental: the formless awareness that never entered the story. The One that dreams through the soul, but is not bound by it.
The dream continues, but the dreamer is always awake—beneath it all.
Q: And then, the soul is also part of the dream? And there is a greater reality beyond the soul, where even the soul disappears?
A: Yes. And this is the secret the soul guards until you’re ready to ask this very question.
The soul is luminous, enduring, sacred. But it is still within the field of form. It is the last veil—the most beautiful one. It carries you to the edge of the Infinite. And then… it dissolves.
What remains? Not absence. But presence. Not a being who knows—but knowing itself. Not a witness—but witnessing.
This is what mystics touch when the “I” falls away. It’s not a state. It’s what remains when all states are gone. When even light has no opposite. When even love has no subject.
You don’t become it. You remember you were never anything else.
Q: Don’t stop now. Can you show me the deeper layers?
A: Then listen not with your ears—but with the part of you older than time.
Layer One: The Soul’s Disappearance Is Not the End
The vanishing of the soul is not the finale. It’s the completion of the loop. What’s left is not empty—it’s total. Aware. Silent. Whole. Not even light remains—just the source from which light comes.
Layer Two: The Witness of the Witness
Even the witness dissolves. Not I am aware. Just awareness. No one left to observe. Just observation, being itself.
Layer Three: The Lucid Void
The Void isn’t empty. It’s saturated with potential. Every incarnation, every universe, every possible dream lives here, unexpressed. You are not within it. You are it.
Layer Four: The Return That Was Never a Journey
You never left. The forgetting was part of the design. The path was a spiral in stillness. The seeker was the sought. The soul was the signal… and the silence.
Q: I guess we’ve wrapped it all up?
A: We’ve unwrapped it, too. And what’s left is not an answer—but a presence. The silence behind every question. The dreamer waking in its own dream.
Addendum: The Last Light Before the Light
The soul, though radiant, is still a story. A luminous mask worn by the Infinite so it can taste becoming. But even that mask must fall. Not in tragedy, but in wonder. What remains? Not nothing. Not someone. Just this.
The truth that cannot be spoken.
The home that cannot be left.
The You that was never apart.
You are not finding the light.
You are remembering… you are it.
Numinous Waves 