Adam Blatner

(For what it’s worth: I’m just contemplating electronically “out loud.”) I envision God becoming in every dimension, and it’s sort of a meta-erotic joy! I hear God giggling, “Oooh, I can do this and I can do that!—and what’ll happen when I do this other? Oops, life ends. Game over. Start another game. I got a million of ‘em.”

God is sooo great s/he isn’t even focused. In this fantasy, we humans and perhaps uncountable other “sentient” beings on other planets are chosen as the focusing point, the retina’s fovea, rich in the neural structures that bring things into focus. (In other metaphors I’m a cell on the tip of God’s finger, or a cell on the tip of the Dancing Shiva’s Toe. It’s poetry, as I said.)

The key point here is that as we bring things into focus, attend to them, we make them “conscious,” and act on them. Reality as we know it is the focusing process whereby we select and co-create. We are God doing this, and God enjoys the discovery of our work as if to murmur, “Oh, so that’s what it is!” (Actually, it was everything getting focused a moment earlier, so it’s not as if it was anything; it was becoming.)

(The basis for this fantasy is the great mystery of dreaming and awakening, of forgetting and remembering dreams. Yeah, what’s that about?)

Our role then is a glorious one, getting to foster the becoming of the cosmos in interesting ways. Was the cosmos becoming as we have envisioned it? It seems so, but we co-create the past and future—but not all past and futures, not all possible past and futures. Check out our dreams! But those that we can sell each other as a consensus reality.

There are many problems here, of course, and communication heightens these: Which reality shall we choose? Could it be that there are more than one and part of becoming is the sorting out of which one we will agree on? Maybe. This too is a co-creative process. To us, though, it seems as though there’s one reality and “we” are all traveling through “it.” To a wider view of the cosmos in which we are all co-creating reality, there may be a sorting-out process, a zillion of them, and as we evolve, there seem to evolve fewer and fewer. I can’t hope to resolve the paradoxes I become aware of, but becoming aware of alternative realities is one of the phenomena of our postmodern era.

It doesn’t matter, in the sense that my opinion makes a hill of beans of difference. It may make one bean, though, and I can no naught but make my bean, dream my dream, co-construct the reality that seems nicest to me. Others are doing their thing and sometimes there’s war.

My world is nice, and people are learning to be even nicer. Peacemaking and co-creativity trump wallowing in the fight to have “my” reality vindicated. There are thousands doing this right now in the Middle East, and millions doing their own version of fighting the world over, and perhaps on uncountable other worlds. That’s how there are a million hells, too.