AT THE GYM, THE
OTHER DAY I was carrying a plastic water bottle* as I hobbled around from one
exercise machine to another. I held it in my hand like you normally hold one for drinking, and after a while I noticed the top half filled with
air was warmer than the bottom half containing water.
Gripping it as I was, the
bottle’s plastic skin registered two distinct temperature regions on my palm. Not
exactly an earth-shaking observation, but when I tried to gauge where the precise
line or boundary was on my palm, where the surface of the liquid met the air in
the bottle (such as two inches below the nose of that little guy in the
illustration), I couldn’t pinpoint it without looking; I couldn’t feel the
line where the two elements of air and water met in the bottle. That line of
demarcation, that transition point from air to water and water to air,
wasn’t apparent to me; my palm sensed only cool and warm, with a poorly-defined boundary between them.

Why do I
mention this? Well, I guess because it reminds me of a few things I’ve been reading lately,
about boundaries and barriers and states of separation, but also about
layers and transitions zones, and states of fluidity where a thing, boarded by its
opposite, can sometimes flow into it and the two intermingle, and blend into something
new and unexpected. Rachel Carson wrote about such a place—she wrote a whole
book about it!1 She describes, in evocative detail, the
shoreline of her beloved Maine, where the sea meets the land in an ancient,
liminal ecology of opposites, where the land and the sea combine into a third element, fostering
unique plant and aNimal life not found in the deeper, swifter waters of the
Atlantic, nor on the land.
ANOTHER BOOK, this
one a detective story, had something similar, suggesting an interface, not
between sea and land, but between the living and dead! It was a bit of a
choker, the novel, and I’m afraid to say a lame read, with an anemic plotline
and cardboard characters, so I won’t give the title or author—I don’t want to rain
on anyone’ s parade. It’s the kind of book we all run across where we think, “Hey,
I could write this!” In point of fact, I did not write it and
he did. He’s a first-time published author and I’m not. So, props
to him for that. However, what made his story just interesting enough to read
was the special talent of the main character (MC), who worked, IIRC, for the
FBI in an elite “tracker unit” tasked with finding hard to trace criminals and missing
persons. (They even have their own jet to get to crime scenes on the double!
Wowzers!)

THE KICKER is
that MC can see the trail a person leaves behind that he calls their “shine”,
where there's no discernible physical evidence present. He sees a kind of “psychic
trail” or residue, left from a person’s “essence” or spirit, in the form of
coloured lines or paths that he follows to track their movements. Only his closest
associates on the team are aware of his unique ability, where he’s known as the “Bloodhound”
of the unit and disguises his paranormal powers by manufacturing plausible
forensic clues to explain his unerring sense of direction trailing the baddies
and finding victims of crimes—most of whom are dead, it must be said.
At the end of
the novel, MC is with his dying suspect, a serial killer he has apprehended. In
his hospital room, the killer taunts MC and expresses no remorse for his
terrible crimes. During their conversation, MC looks up at the ceiling and sees
the “shine” of the psychopath’s victims hovering there and realizes, in death,
the killer’s rest may not be as peaceful as he imagines.
So, how exactly is this
like Carson’s book on marine biology? I guess for me, MC’s “shine” is a kind of
transition zone or layer between our world and some other, an interface, a
place of liminality like where the land meets the sea. And the traces he sees
are just that—traces of another place or dimension that apparently exists near
at hand, one we are unaware of and cannot perceive, yet are somehow
connected with. They are the traces of our ‘other selves’, our auras, spirits, souls
perhaps, things that don’t exist in our world but are found in another, and which leave behind their ectoplasmic tracks MC can follow.2
HE CAN'T SEE BEYOND the “shine”, this region
of contact, nor can he enter it but, of course, there is the suggestion that
whatever lies on the other side has somehow blended or joined or mixed
with our side in a more penetrating manner than we with theirs, and that there exists an intelligence in this
unknown realm beyond the traces of “shine".
And since I’m
writing this in the days immediately following Halloween, that gives me
goosebumps! Spooo-key, man! 3
IN A SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT VEIN, a blog post by John Michael Greer takes an expansive view on what I’ll call
inter-dimensionality. JMG is a Druid and a long-time practitioner of occult
spirituality, particularly as taught by the Hermetic Order of the Golden
Dawn. He takes the human condition, along with the myriad other life forms
on our planet, as being on the path of a very long evolution. That’s not
controversial; we’re evolving, changing, albeit slowly, aren’t we? (Opposable
thumbs and all.) But, more interestingly, he says our physical being, our bodies, and
their maturation, are just part of the picture. In fact, they’re what he terms the
“lowest and most dense” level of existence. He posits other, higher levels
existing in separate dimensions or planes, layered atop one another. “Each of us has a distinct part of
ourselves on each of the [four] planes.” (Care)
First comes our material, physical
bodies. Next, in ascending order are the planes where exist our etheric
and then our astral bodies. Think of a hand organ or concertina with ribs along the bellows representing the different planes, all expanding and
contracting in concert. That’s kind of like us, with each rib a separate plane of
existence having different characteristics and operations, but all are connected and
interpenetrating one another.4 For example, the “aura” that is said to be
visible from time to time surrounding someone, is a function of our etheric
body and represents what JMG calls our “lifeforce”.
“The etheric plane is the plane
of life force; the astral plane is the plane of concrete consciousness; and the
mental plane is the plane of abstract consciousness.” (Care)
I WON'T GO FURTHER INTO THE WEEDS here about the characteristics and functions of the
various planes—JMG 'splains it so much better than I can! —save to say it’s
a fascinating “mind experiment” (at the very least) to see ourselves as more
than physical, as having other components or dimensions to our existence
that are beyond our perceptions. At least for now. And this, for me, is another
example of that sense of fluidity, of barriers dissolving and unseen
connections revealed that comes to mind, especially now around Halloween when the
dark comes so early, and ghosts walk the streets.
Cheers, Jake.
______________________________________
* Definitely, my bad (even though I'm reusing it until it dissolves). But check out this short vid
about plastic pollution.
1 The Edge of the Sea, by Rachel
Carson. 1955.
2 Another way of understanding MC’s “shine” is to
think of a person completely enveloped in a balloon. The ‘balloon’ is an
undetectable sheath of another plane surrounding them. As they walk,
the balloon leaves ectoplasmic traces on the ground that are visible to someone
like MC. Or perhaps, since it’s around dinner time, maybe people
are like meaty lasagnas, with multiple layers of existence, separate yet blended , each layer filled with different, tasty bits, all held
together with a rich and spicy cosmic sauce.
[Sorry for the clumsy analogies—Jake is not at his best with those. Ed.]
3 And for a spooky and rather grim prognostication on
how the rest of the year and near-future will go, check out James Howard
Kunstler’s recent blog post, here.
4 There are seven planes altogether: the material,
etheric, astral, mental, spiritual, causal, and divine planes. (The last three are above humanity's reach.)JMG suggests we are currently involved with the first three planes, though in our evolution, we are miles away from reaching and utilizing the fourth, “mental” plane.
So not to make us feel too
bad about our stunted evolution, he points out that it took a heck of a long
time to go from single-celled amoebas to blue whales. And he does say to
reach the “mental” plane, which blends all four together into a
(hopefully) harmonious whole, may be somewhat easier than our first evolutionary passage on the material plane. So,
there’s that at least, my fellow plodders!
The Edge of the Sea, by Rachel
Carson. 1955. Houghton Mifflin Company. 1959.
Greer, John Michael. “The Care of the Mind.” Ecosophia,
Nov.4, 2021. https://www.ecosophia.net/the-care-of-the-mind/
.