Noah’s Ark Of Consciousness “Man is now living in his most critical moment and it is a crisis of immense dimensions. Either he will die or a new man will be reborn… It is going to be a death and resurrection. Unless human consciousness changes totally man cannot survive. As he is right now he is already outdated. … During this period there will be every kind of destruction on Earth including natural catastrophes and man manufactured auto-suicidal efforts. In other words there will be floods which have never been known since the time of Noah, along with earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and everything else that is possible through nature. The Earth cannot tolerate this type of mankind any longer. There will be wars which are bound to end in nuclear explosions, hence no ordinary Noah’s ark is going to save humanity. … The Holocaust is not going to be confined to certain places, it is going to be global so no escape will be possible. You can only escape within and that’s what I teach. I do not teach worship of God or any other ritual but only a scientific way of coming to your innermost core.” (OSHO (1983)) The mother of all travails is unavoidable. There will be famines, plagues, and global disasters, whether seers have used the gift of true providence to forewarn us of signs of the end times, or have conditioned us to make the end times happen. A tribulation is coming, whether it is the end of the world or the birth pangs of a new age. The year 2012 will come and soon be forgotten in as we advance deeper into a century of revolution and upheaval. The 2010s will pass into the Roaring 2020s that will see unprecedented stress brought to bear on human civilization and Earth’s ecology. There will be wars, global warming and unrest. By the 2020s there will be billions of young people expecting a better future, but they will be disenfranchised by their own excessive numbers. They will see the job market and the world’s resources collapse. The basics for happiness in life will be denied them. They will not enjoy a good education, or a roof over their head. They will be denied food, water and hope. The young will be prime targets for the harangues and hate mongering of not one but dozens of messianic Hitlers preaching an apocalyptic solution. If only they could catch a ride on a Rapture cloud – if there were one. The more practical person might dig a survivalist’s ditch and wait out the tribulation to come, but escape may not be possible when the whole worl d is going to feel the pain of this multifaceted travail. If food runs out during a protracted global famine, the survivalists will be the first doomsday moles rooted out of their holes by the desperate who are rooting out the last of the hoarded supplies. No one will escape. You may choose to abandon the rising, flooding coastlines of California for a religiously pure and safe area like the desert town of Sedona, Arizona; but rather than drown from rising oceans, you may desiccate when the potable water in that New Age Mecca runs out. The coming decades of the early 21st century could see all of us writhing under an Internet of history’s first global emergency. No region, no nation and no person on Earth will be exempt from the effects of another person’s misuse or overuse of the planet. The next 30 years will endure floods not seen in recorded history – if not directly from weather, then from rising coastlines. Prophets foresee earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and even many scientists predict natural disasters of a scope and magnitude never before encountered. It will be as if the earth were rebelling against a humanity that chooses to remain retarded while it waits for the saviors to fix them. Nostradamus and other seers have predicted a plague of 70 wars across the world, triggered by the breakdown of water and food resources caused by rampant overpopulation. Many of these wars will end in nuclear explosions and the unleashing of biological and chemical-weapon plagues. Attempts to escape may not only be futile but also result in a missed opportunity. A major theme promoted by more renegade redeemers – those mystics who do not toe the mainstream anti-life and pro-afterlife line of the Second Coming Syndrome – is that you cannot escape from yourself. No matter how high the Rapture carries you into the clouds, no matter how many Himalayan mountains you pull over your head to escape the disasters, the problem comes along for the ride. You are the problem. And you could be the answer. The answer to averting the tribulations to come may arise out of each individual understanding and transcending the problem he or she has become. Individual salvation requires something else entirely, a totally new vector. Whole some continue to wait for rescue in the form of a new ark of a New Jerusalem to mother-ship them out of harm’s way, there are visions that act like irritating flies dancing on the nose of such deliverance dreams, disturbing their reverie. These visions buzz with images of a travail from which there’s no escape. They say that the coming disasters will force all people to stand face to face with a heartbreaking and dream-breaking reality: No saints or saviors are coming to save us from ourselves. We will have to become our own saviors. One of the renegade mystics, Osho, believes the next Noah’s ark needed to save humanity is a Noah’s Ark of Consciousness. It is not a UFO mothership of nebulous construction built for one to wait out the seven years of tribulation behind a comet’s tail. It isn’t a cave city for survivalists. It is a hideaway so secret that you’d never guess how close it nudges against where you live even at this moment. It hides right behind the source of your existence. This safe haven is a place that spiritual survivalists retreat to. It is the ark of consciousness within each of us. The pathway to this ark can be found by remaining silent and centered exactly in the middle of the cyclone of the coming times. MEDITATION: Therapy for Madhouse Earth While watching the changing world outside and the movement of thoughts and emotions within, I become more aware of a presence that doesn’t change. It is impossible to define in words what this is, but I do know that it is always the same presence; that when it comes, it is everywhere and nowhere at once; that nothing I’m thinking or feeling can connect with it; that it is so still it doesn’t exist and so subtle that at times it is too alive to bear. I remember first encountering this presence as a child. Then I lost touch with it. The losing was a gradual process called growing up. I experienced it as walling up. Gradually Pink Floyd’s bricks piled up around me, blocking out the limitless view of the innocent and unnamable wonder that a child feels by just being alive. I was taught to hold on to thoughts and possess emotional expectations; in short, I was given recipes for accepted adult behavior. I painfully learned to live in a world where beauty and the art of being alive are pushed lower and lower on life’s laundry list; I was taught to survive in a culture where cars, money, face-saving at all costs, and manipulation of others are the primary values. I had come into the world as a cosmos and it looked like I would leave the world as a spent commodity. When it got too much, I got pushed to the edge of a nervous breakthrough. There were only two alternatives: rediscover what I had lost, or lose myself. How can I tell you about this journey inward to find my self again, without tarnishing it with judgments, dialectics, words? If I ever greet you beyond the veil of these words, we might find a way to share this mystery called meditation. I will not speak of it, I will sing it to you, dance it; we will hug meditation, we will silent meditation. Our sutras will be giggles. I’d rather not use words, but this is the Kali Yuga after all — an age that uses the least adequate media to express the deepest truths. With that said, let’s stumble ahead in the darkness of print: I do not yet know who I am but meditation allows me to often see how I am. Through understanding the hows of my happiness-sadness-love-and-hate, I observe their rough-and-tumble within me with greater distance. Meditation helps me to watch the movement of my thoughts and emotions. I become more a spectator than a participant in stress, pain, and denial. Through meditation I have been able to uncover the root cause of all my misery: The fear of change, and lurking behind that, the ultimate fear — the fear of death. Meditation has helped me observe the mechanics of misery and fear. There’s a Sufi metaphor about identification. Misery doesn’t come to us, we unconsciously seek it out and hold on to it, like flinging our arms around a pillar. As we squeeze tighter we yell, “Oh, if I only could be rid of this misery and pain!” This misunderstanding is our choice. As American mystic Adi Da Samraj once remarked, we do misery, we do expectation. Hell is not a place. We do it. We do predictability. We make prophecy work because we are so damned predictable.