Immortally Now

I don't believe in personal immortality because I don't believe in personal continuity.  In other words, I don't believe in continuity of Form (i.e. in continuity of body or continuity of mind; after all, even in this life, body is constantly changing and so is mind). But I do, personally, believe in continuity (and, thus, immortality) of Essence (i.e. proto-substance, the "wax" of it all).  Seen as such, the question of personal immortality becomes a function of identification. 

An entity that identifies itself with essence, by this line of thought, may - if it "needs" to or chooses to - believe in personal continuity and thus immortality. 

An entity that identifies itself with its forms (with its body, with its mind) has no such option as much as it might desire it. 

While the logic affords me a choice of believing in personal continuity (as a function of identification with essence), at the moment, I file this option away into the fleeting and ever updating archives of my mind-forms. 

In the meantime, I simply am, residing in the present continuity of change. 

Immortally now.

post-scriptum:

Personal continuity - i.e. continuity of self - is continuity of information.  All information passes.  There's never been a thought or a feeling or a sensation that didn't go away.  Information is Form.  You are not in-formation.  You are that which is in [the process of] formation.  Life itself, not the life-form that you are.  Life-forms vanish but life - neither yours nor mine but its own - continues.  Identification with form (with body-forms or mind-forms) is like identification with a wave.  All waves pass. 

Identification with essence - i.e. with life itself - is like identification with water: whether it crystallizes into ice or evaporates via steam or re-condenses through a rain, it (water) in essence (not in form) remains the same.  If you want immortality, choose your identification carefully. 

Or choose Now - an immortality of a permanent kind.

Rascal Grin of the Original Face

I am a rascal grinning at myself in a mirror. (C. Jung, Red Book, p. 241)

Speaking dichotomously, there's form, there's essence, but (speaking non-dichotomously) there's no difference between these two sides of oneness.  Essence = substrate/consciousness.  Form = configuration/informationa/material manifestation.  Form is essence objectified.  Essence is subjectivity of a given form.  When essence sees itself in the mirror of reality (which is itself!) it sees a distortion: the Original Face of Consciousness meets the Rascal Grin of Form.

Of course, none of this is ultimately expressable: as I try to untangle what feels like an intuitive understanding of this dialectic, word-forms grin at the very meaning-essence I am trying to lay out.  No biggie: mind is a leg, it itches for a stroll, so I took it out for a spin around the block (which remains uncarved).

Countdown to Same Dynamic Stillness That Always Is

In you
the essence of reality distorts its own form.
In you
the essence of reality corrects it.
Infinitely...

10...9...8...7... 6...
you know how it ends: either in 1 or 0.
Same digital oneness.
After all, essence is still dynamically form, and form is still always essence...

proof-reading is moot: I'll never read this as if I had never written it.
Reality is unedited...
and so are you... and so are you me...

Who am I? Who are you?
5 stanzas - one Un-punctuated space of consciousness in between

Ellipses is but a punctuation symbol that reminds us of the emptiness that eclipses us...