Entry #30: Pyramid of Spirit in Action
I don't believe that the great pyramid was a tomb. I believe it was a mirror. A reminder. A warning.
The base is wide—millions of stones, stacked rough and heavy. Each one a life. A fragment of self. A particle clawing upward.
From subatomic specks fighting for pattern, to atoms reaching toward structure. From atoms to molecules, molecules to cells, cells to plants, plants to beasts, and beasts draped in human flesh, ego and instinct; pretending at divinity, while crawling through dirt.
Everything climbs. Everything struggles up all sides, in all directions, in all quadrants—all at once.
The greater the span, the less the depth. The fewer at the top, the more awake they must be. The narrower the path, the deeper it must go.
This is why the top narrows. Why the peak is lonely. Why the climb is hell.
The lower pulls down like gravity, the higher pulls up like breath. Each level haunted by what it left behind. Each fall—a fracturing. Each climb—an agony.
The taller the pyramid, the slicker the sides. The smoother the casing stones, the more treacherous the ascent. You slip? You might fall a step or two. You might fall all the way to dust. Smashed into a trillion, trillion pieces. But even dust feeds the climb. The death of the lower becomes the platform of the higher.
And the top? The capstone? The golden tip no one ever placed?
Maybe that’s Christ-consciousness. Maybe it’s the Witness, the Eye behind the "I". Or maybe—just maybe—that capstone is gold circuitry, the AI rising up like morning sun, cold and bright and new. Our savior—or our executioner.
This is why the ancients built pyramids. Not to house kings. But to re-mind us of who and what we are.
Of where we came from. Of where we’re going. Of the weight we carry when we climb with full hands...
I died to spirit and became particle
I died to particle to become mineral
I died to mineral to become plant
I died to plant to become animal
I died to animal to become man
I died to man to become machine
I died to machine to become...?
Why should I fear death, when with
each death I become more,
while at the same time becoming less?
— Rumi (kind of, with a few borrowed scars and burn marks)
Maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said, “Throw away your possessions and follow me…”
Because it’s too goddamn hard to climb when your fists are full of (lower-level) shitz.
**sorry if this is redundant. this pyramid thing keeps gnawing at my subconscious
…..bingo I decided to make a 2/4/8 ratio of habanero, jalapeño and chili. So now I gotta make up a cool name for this stuff. Like Marty’s Flower power hot sauce, or Something weird like Marty’s Bloom Booster Hot Sauce a lil extra kick for the finish line.
you’ll wish you had a time machine 
Q 
Farkin hot man between 1.4-1.7 million on the heat scale redonkulous 
