So I just remembered, tying in with these . .
– Brahman is the silence that surrounds the Om, the sea of holy nothingness which has given rise to Being and on which Being dances
– the bright and clear void
– God is love
– that, per the very last line of the Comedy, God is “the love that moves the sun and other stars”
– Aristotle says it is love that makes fire rise and stone sink–that love is what drives all motion in the physical world
– I, a mind, formless, stare up out of my pupil, an emptiness, into your pupil, an emptiness, behind which you, a mind, formless, reside; and love is a resonance between I the formless pattern and you the formless pattern.
– that everything is one
– that there’s no difference between anything
– that the physical universe is one single “thing,” an infinitely complex wave of foam in which probability, matterenergy, and spacetime are all one
– “[I was told,] ‘Go ask the Holy Ghost,’ / so I took sacrament, and this He spoke: // ‘The possibility is you are Me, / a junkie with his nose all caked with grace; / that Nothingness shot maybe in his vein, / and then old nonexistence went insane, // and “One line more! One more!” began to pray.’” — that is, the fancy that we/God/cosmos was/were woken from the sleep of unbeing by the feeblest possibility of the existence of something, and having been drawn from that sleep by the craving for this possible thing, could not stop having indulged once.
– that matter is not real, and that on closer inspection matter is but part of the wave of energy/probability that has become knotted–or perhaps in some way given friction (“The whole process of creation and of spiritual unfoldment shows that the spirit, which is life and which in life represents the divine, has wrapped itself in numberless folds, and has thus so to speak descended from heaven to earth.”)
– that neither everything nor nothing are truly real or actual (and that neither actions nor things [re] are true), but that everything IS nothing; and all the different possible and actual things fit seamlessly together into a oneness that is not different from nothingness/the void and not different from the spirit/ghost/love that bends/stretches/twists/refracts the void into being
– that “the trick of intelligence is that there is no trick”–that “the power of intelligence stems from our vast diversity, not from any single, perfect principle”
– a single structure (maybe this one or this one or this one or this one), as complicated as infinity, which, without moving and with no moving parts, using something like the Casimir effect, generates motion; and this structure as fractally/holographically self-similar from the infinitely small to the infinitely large
– that “If you are desirous for the truly immovable, / The immovable is in the moving itself, / And this immovable is the truly immovable one.”
– that “all that is made seems planless to the darkened mind, because there are more plans than it looked for. So with the Great Dance. Set your eyes on one movement and it will lead you through all patterns and it will seem to you the master movement. But the seeming will be true. Let no mouth open to gainsay it. There seems no plan because it is all plan: there seems no center because it is all center.”
– that “love is a state of resonance between absence from and nearness to the beloved, a vibratory, harmonized resonance between being two and being one.”
– and especially that Dante’s physical universe is a sphere whose center is Hell and whose outer circumference, the Empyrean, consists of angels, flying at the very edge of it as fast as it is possible to go–as close as they can to God, whom they seek and love, beyond it; and that Dante sees, at the topmost of Heaven and deepest into God, the human form.
. . is potentially this:
Something about “where” each of us “are”: behind the pupil (which is empty-full), and how incredibly good we are at reading the tiny dilations and contractions of the pupil and following all the tiny muscle movements of the lids and brow, the whole face, and all the rest of the body to discern something about that, formless, which is at its center or root.