Toltec on Safari

Quetzaltepec Volcano, Solstice 2010

With your anticipated baktun shift 585 days away, the penultimate peak of summer before the 5,125 year baktun period terminates obtains the significance of being, in the hot rainy June of the tropics, the last tropical torrents before the last wash of the cycle of the current baktun. This is no more than an organizational scheme, like Monday to Sunday and then again to another Monday, but the meaning of the baktun to a space traveler is much greater than the meaning of a Monday. They might ask, for example, what does Monday mean on Mars?

The passenger of light, returning from an ancient trip, having left from Earth or elsewhere, would find that time had happened more rapidly for those not traveling at the speed of light. Younger than the stars at the time at which they departed, they would have left Earth or elsewhere to find that in a few hours, several histories had gone in and out of vogue. Somewhere along the way, they might have even heard something like the following:

That God had stopped mid sentence to practice an injustice.

That in the injustice, many Gods had turned on each other, in a series of cosmic interrogations pending prosecution.

And that a select few had continued with their faith in the unjust God, because he might be here and not elsewhere, or elsewhere and not here.

But the celestial traveler would have already seen that there is no somewhere that is not also a burst of the original substance become volume in the expansion of the universe. And having had to account for the strange fact that they had traveled less far than their speed would have taken them if space had remained stationary while they zipped across, the traveler might start to ask their own self if this thing called the real isnt so real after all. And there he would have pierced the first of all fibrous essences with a principle:

That what was called God could be no more than a placeholder for an understanding of the movement that occurs when days do not have names. Anything else would be more like mosquitoes to the mind, supplying nothing but irritations.

You could not, for example, be guided across the sky even by the stars because precession would shift things and, in other ways, the whole thing would continue to be pulled apart. Elsewhere, the traveler might have heard something they found much more satisfying. Something like:

O Celestial Traveler………..may my soul be a garden……….in which……..you delight, O…………Celestial, you………are more you………..who are more………….old than, O.