Conceptual Birth - The Mark of Separation

I once saw a beautiful child on the bus. She was about 3 years old. She was singing "Old MacDonald had a farm Ee i ee i o" on repeat for most of the 30-minute journey, and when she wasn't singing it, she was humming it. It was very cute, indeed - for the first three minutes!

At one point, the parents looked at each other, smiled and the mother said lovingly to the father, “aww… we helped her learn that” - but little did they know that this marked the child's rapid descent into the world of form; a neurotic journey through the maddening tyranny of delusion, fear, and anxiety in which spawns the Alice-In-Wonderland pseudo-reality we call the human condition. The child becomes fragmented from the world, journeying haphazardly through the sensory experience.

There's nothing wrong with this. It is the very simple observation of pure innocence. In every facet of childhood growth, the unbound appears to lose itself in its own creative abundance.

Dying into the conceptual world is probably the greatest, most exhilarating roller-coaster ride you've ever been on.

Dying out of the conceptual world is truly another ride altogether!

You just don't know it yet!