Fractals, Time, Circular Thought, Galactic Cosmos: An Exercise in Tantric Consciousness (November 2009)

Abstraction A: Fractals

This is a visual mapping of a fractal set. It is also clearly a mandala. Let us think about this. The seed syllable of the deity is the originating point of the essence of the mandala. If the seed syllable could be imagined as the starting point of the fractal, the endless repetition of the starting point becomes the emanation of the principle deity outward from the center. From this pattern of emanation arises the structure of the mandala palace, in which the deity abides. In this way, this image and the images of fractals below are visual representations of the mathematics of cosmic vibration, the cosmic ratios of space. This provides an argument in favor of Tantric metaphysics which argue that the mandala is inherent in the fabric of the cosmos, that paintings of mandalas are not created images, but revealed. It also supports the necessity of accurate proportions in the portrayal of mandalas. Fractals are not approximate, they are precise patterns based on exact calculations, as are mandalas.

Abstraction B: Circular Thought (Finding the Center)

Crop circles are geometrical patterns constructed in fields of crops. Their origin is mysterious. Some say they are made by extraterrestrials, or inter-dimensional beings, or they're fixed energy patterns known to the ancients but long forgotten, or that they're merely hoaxes, created by crafty human hands and nothing more. Where they come from, however, is not what's important. Rather, it is how the human mind attempts to make sense of mystery and symbol, and how human minds seek out and ascribe meaning to symbols.

How do we make the vastness of the universe tangible? By creating it in space, visually.

The universe is evolving in my mind. I seek to learn the language everyone understands. To cultivate the subtle sense faculties.

What would 17th century philosopher Benedict de Spinoza say about crop circles? That they are nothing more and nothing less than natural phenomena, the causes of which surpass our faculty of understanding. He completely refutes any possibility of miracles (which Hume borrowed without recognition in 'Of Miracles'). Spinoza's conception of nature is as all encompassing as and identical to God. God is Nature. It is a simple fact of reason. The power of God surpasses our conceptual faculties, therefore the power of Nature surpasses our conceptual faculties. That is why there are natural marvels of mysterious origin throughout the planet. Crop circles are only one example.

The fabric of the universe is a vibrating frequency of light which shifts in an out of different patterns, creating and undoing ceaselessly. Order into chaos. Order out of chaos. It is merely shifting patterns. Galaxies are nothing less than this. Their basic patterns are the elements, which give off a color, which is an energy frequency. These energy frequencies encounter each other and create change and balance. Change is, in fact, simply a constantly shifting system attempting to balance itself.

Crop circles are an encounter with the unexplained. When human beings encounter the unexplained, their minds, confronted with their own ignorance, instinctively attempt to explain it. That is the marvel of human intellect: to recognize the limits of one's consciousness, and have reason reveal that this is part of the pattern.

Every moment is an experiment in consciousness. Every experience is an experiment in emptiness. Every moment must count. Every moment is right now. Everything is always happening all at once. Without everything nothing could be. Everything is real, but nothing can be without everything else. One thing necessitates all things. From one, all. A circle is one, but it is infinitely expanding. A circle can always get bigger. The depth of human thought expands with our knowledge of the cosmos.

As I sit here I ponder a nebula. That nebula exists in the same universe as I do, as I sit here on this chair in this room on this floor in this building on this block in this city in this country on this continent on this circle... the circle we walk in everyday. No matter where we walk, we are always walking in a circle. From the moment we rise to our feet to the moment we rest on our backs, we never stop moving in a circle. Sure, it's not a perfect circle, but that's hardly the point. Our orbit around the Sun is an elliptical path, so it is like this: we are moving on a circular trajectory, the center of which is always being moved. The pattern is always being slightly offset by some force. It's being pushed, challenged. Despite the push, the pattern never falters. It is consistent. The zero-point of the continuum establishes balance with the ceaseless re-centering of this trajectory.

It is a fact that the conceptual mind experiences material reality in three dimensions. But within those three dimensions there are infinitely occurring interpenetrating dimensions. It's fractals, simply put.

This image of fractal patterning appears to me to be a range of buddha fields, all intersecting and merging, not unlike the collision of galaxies. The point is not where the circle is but the fact that the circle is always centered. Always.

The center does not exist externally from us, but in the mind. That is how visualization mediation produces realization. By creating an enlightened space the entire architecture of which is united with your mind, you become the center of the universe. you are the singular zero-point, the placeless center from which the universe is created in every moment. There are no dead ends.

Everyone deserves a beautiful life. And Buddha helped give it to others.

Sometimes I feel like a pratyeka buddha... like I have experience true, all encompassing enlightenment. I have experienced the depth of emptiness. I discovered a gem in indra's net on the platform of a subway in Brooklyn. It was a circle... an empty circle. On an earring. By gazing through it's center, I saw reflected all the dimensions of the underlying, interpenetrating cosmic reality. I recently lost a similar earring, to find it a month later sitting innocently atop a pile of dirt beneath a bench I sat on every day. A few days later I lost the other one. And another earring a few days after that... one two one one. one two one one. one two one one. one two one one. one two one one. 5.

This is the reality of my conceptual process, which is circular. Time is not linear. The universe is not linear. Even light bends. My mind is made of light, so it bends with the light. Plants bend with the light. Crop circles possess their power as the center of bent light. That light is energy, and the pattern, whatever its source, even produced in a ritual manner by humans (hoax circles), is in that respect entirely analogous to a mandala. Mandalas are not defined by the image so much as its function. Certainly the pattern is important, but only with regard to how it coalesces the existing light in a visually approximate way. The ground is only the point of departure. There are dimensions radiating outward from every point in space. And there are infinite points in space. And every point is a center. Finding the center is a matter of knowing where a circle begins. And it begins at the center and moves outward in a circular motion. Like a fractal. Like some crop circles. Like mandalas. Like stupas. Like an orbit. Like a thought. The center is constantly moving and constantly remains the same.

Crop circles could be anywhere. They're hardly different from any other pattern found in nature. There are faces, figures, shapes, everything stamped on the surface of this planet. Just because we don't see it doesn't mean its not there. Guru Padmasambhava understood this. That is how he conquered the volatile natural forces of Tibet. Knowledge is limitlessly attainable in every moment. There is no good and there is no bad. Tantra allows all, because all is full of emptiness. With nothing there is the possibility of everything. In the empty space of a field appears a circle. It is mysterious, and we contemplate it. In the empty space of a piece of paper, words appear. We discover our own mysteries and we discover our own truths. Truth is freedom and mysteries free our minds from the confines of conventional thinking.

Abstraction C: Time Does Not Exist

Time is circular. A wall clock is round, a circle. Around and around it goes. The line from the center to the periphery is the present moment. Everything falls within its trajectory at the exact same moment. Time is infinite clocks all measuring the same infinite moment. And yet the mind is always happening in the moment, the eternal present, the perfect center. It is as the Dalai Lama said: we are all the center of the universe in our minds. But what does it mean to stand in the center of one's mind, the cosmic clock? Time does not exist linearly, but in circles, always moving around. Yet the measurement of time begins in the center. When you stand in the center of the clock, time exists only in the eternality of the moment where you stand in relation to it. In that way, you are the center of time, the determining factor in the experience of the moment.

Dream: April 30, 2008 (From the archives)

I was a young woman, approximately the same age I am now, perhaps a little older. I was still a student living in the city. My brother lived in another city. In that city there lived a man with whom I was in love. The young man was in love with me, too, but our love lay dormant because of the distance separating us. My brother knew of my beloved, but did not know him. My beloved was a religious man and was, like I, committed to a religious education. He covered his head and appeared to be devoutly Jewish. Secretly I was collecting tokens which reminded me of my beloved. In my room I had collected a small mass of blue, red, and gold items that appeared to be various takes on the Superman insignia.


Quite suddenly an imminent danger appeared on the horizon and was descending upon the cities quite fast. I had no choice but to make haste to my beloved to warn him. We had no time to savor the sweetness of being reunited because of the danger which followed after me. I plucked the outward signs of faith from his appearance and we fled. First we fled through the dark streets, seemingly deserted of all friendly faces, danger lurking. I was guiding him to safety though I didn't know exactly where we would find it. We had no defense except for the swiftness to outrun our enemies. We escaped to a train where we hid from and narrowly escaped our enemies, who would have shot us on sight. From the train we escaped to a house. We ran from the front of the house through towards the back, and as we reached the rear of the house, we could find no way out. Our enemies had just entered through the front and would find us soon if we did not discover an exit. With moments to spare, there appeared the woman who lived in the house. She was large, vibrant, warm, and her skin was honey and olive. She showed us a door on the other side of a mirror, and we escaped through it to the back yard.


Once we crossed the threshhold into the yard, it became my yard and my house. I was older now and there were friends in the house. I stood just outside the house and I held a branch full of cherry blossoms in my right hand. In the middle of the yard between two cherry blossom trees sat a little girl about three years old. She was my daughter, and she sat with a woman and was painting her face with blue, red, and gold paint. As I watched them, my daughter finished painting the other woman's face. But the woman was unhappy. She didn't like the way my daughter had painted on her. I found it very beautiful though, red and blue and gold paint sparkling on her face and a glob of gold dripping through her hair. But the other woman was in fact also me, before I had wanted my daughter, and her discomfort with children had been my own. The other woman left when I approached my daughter because she had never really been there. I gave her the branch which was from her father, my beloved, who was away for important reasons. He had asked me to give it to our daughter to make a bed of flowers. She set the branch down and layed across it. We were happy and in love.