The Psychoactive Temple of Flesh and Fire

"How lover and beloved touch is familiar and courteous, but there is a strange impulse in that to create a form that will dissolve all other shapes. Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you."- Rumi

How many mysteries does the body contain? How many miles of blood pumps throughout your body right now? How many times does the DNA strand wrap around the planet again? How many particles does it take operate one blink? Can we ever truly come up with a pragmatic and quantitative figure for these questions? Probably not, but let's keep digging. Pondering the inexplicable pulls us into the murky depths of the synaptic cleft, a place where thought entwines with silence, a crossroads where the past and future collide.

The body is not onerous if we view it as a psychoactive temple, or as a domicile for ecstasy. If we watch what we consume, think, and feel, the body opens itself to the world in unprecedented ways. The senses become more alive. The organs function for the stability and betterment of the whole organism. The blood turns into divine love-fire. Each thought becomes an edifice for rhapsody. If we keep the house clean, the house itself becomes enlightened. Zen seeps into the bones. "Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you."

Each one of us is a psychoactive temple. When we change one molecular ring in the neural matrix, the experiencer internally changes what is experienced. The more we think about this, the more mind-boggling and oracular it becomes. Changing the neural chemistry is a lot like turning channels on a TV---sometimes we get white noise and other times we get a signal. The best of signals transmit revelations. The worst of them impart detritus. As we learn to work with the channels, we slowly learn about the multiverse and its innumerable domains and expressions. As William Blake once said, "When the doors of perception are cleansed, all will appear to man as it is: infinite."