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THE QUANTUM PILGRIMAGE

Isaac R. Betanzos

THE QUANTUM PILGRIMAGE:

An Existential Quest to the Quantum Self

By Isaac R. Betanzos

First Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, visit:

theinvisiblebookofquantumpsychology.com

Front & back covers by Zdzisław Beksiński. All illustrations sourced from wikimedia.org

ISBN: 9781087237824

For an enhanced introspection, read it in a quiet place with background instrumental music.

“To those embracing and pursuing the abstract essence of existence.”

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Zdzisław Beksiński. Sanok Museum

PROLOGUE

In certain key existential conjunctions we encounter, the only way to find your true nature as being is by losing everything first; by skinning your bare soul until it’s down to its narrow essence; by giving up all that you assume ‘being you’ involves. It is then, when you dislodge yourself from all the biological roar and clamour, when the thunderous clarity will hammer your reality. Because to admire the inherited nature of a rainbow, you must first undress it from all its deceiving colours.

Expect the unexpected, disbelieve in the goal, fear the wish, cherish the journey. Wisdom and transcendence are not awaiting at the end of that tortuous and devious passage; but guilefully veiling in the crevices within your soul and the trail itself.

As an answer can only be found after formulating the right question; and, then, be ready to tremble and crumb in the presence of that sought truth. Each stroll will only make your quest harder; but for everything worth a memory, and for everything left behind after we perish, effortless is not in range.

Time is just the wind carrying whispers: from the past to our survival-obsessed brain; from the future to our deaf higher-self mind. The present is the solid voice balancing in that thin and shaking thin rope. It is down to our basic and intrinsic self-conviction to discern between both, and whisper back as an echo that re-defines the established status-quo.

Space is the trap and illusion that cages our instinctive nature, guarded by our bodies and biological limitations. Courage and awareness are the key to bend and slip through our mental jail bars. Because for the aspects of existence that truly matter, distance is not a question of physical separation, but of spiritual affiliation and languageless understanding.

As the moment you truly figure out the angle where you stand within your network of meaningful connections, it is also the instant where you no longer have sight of the reality being unfolded in front of you.

Because it is only when you are ultimately and deeply lost, when you will be gifted with the opportunity to redefine everything you are to this world, in a moment of pure conviction. Allow terror and demons to own you, so that you can dazzle them with the shine gleamed from your bravery and determination.

Ignite and revere that brightness no matter the consequences, as it is the only reverie separating us from ultimate darkness…

Zdzisław Beksiński. Sanok Museum

PHASE 1: Ascension

The blinding warm light penetrates through my eyelids, driving a feeling of unstoppable fulfilment across my veins. Suddenly, the space and matter that confine my body expand to make enough room for the flowing of my overwhelming and blooming energy. Finally, my eyes open. In front of me, the paradise irradiated from my soul unfolds. For an impetuous moment, the sunlight, yellow and magnanimous, collapses my senses until all the colours of reality find their place one by one.

I am both above and below, and everything that it was, is or will be. I float governed by my own will, overseeing everything that is beautiful and worth existing for. Up there, at my back, an open blue sky full of possibilities and promises. Down there, under me, a multisensory and endless field, where each one of the pigments and shades transpire all the positive sentiments ever conceived. Where I am now, time is just the wind snuggling me as I drift through it, moving it forwards and backwards with no set destination or purpose: I am the impenetrable castle of my own kingdom.

The green grass and the infinite flowers welcome me with grace as I overfly them. They grant me with their crisp smell transported by the breeze and charged with bracing humidity. The sound becomes a sweet and soft frolic merriment to me, shaped at my will like if I was engraving the everlasting grandeur envolving me. With a gesture from my hand, the fulfilled and reassuring Sun in front of me responds to my wishes, coordinating the multidimensional orchestra I’m witnessing.

There is everything I need in here, since I no longer need anything at all. In the horizon, I perceive and master the forest, trees and every single leaf or strand of glass; the clouds dance to the rhythm of my own thoughts; each colour is impregnated with the scent of a promise to grow and reach newgrounds; the silence is filled with a solemn melody that bends with the landscape, blurring the frontier between the sky and the mountains, too far away to stand confrontation with the projection of their shadow.

There is too much gleeful light and beauty tamed by my yearning to allow anything to be impossible in my realm… As I fly in that powerful and magnificent eternity, the boundaries of my body, mind and soul weld together, forgiving their confines. I am both individuality restrained within and a plurality flourished from my ecosystem.

And, up there, far beyond everything that is known or devised, a star emerges: the brightest star the sky has ever hosted. I am blinded by its beauty and the promise of splendor. My whole kingdom becomes magnetised by that solitaire, unique, shimmering star in the distant amplitude. Suddenly, the entire world unveiled in front of me points towards that secluded and endless brightness, calling me on everything I am as a being. Everything that is beautiful and worth down here must be shared with that yonder blaze up there. Suddenly, my human condition becomes corporeal again, embracing me into a quest to pursuit the allure that announces a new reality. No matter the price required, this bond and urge that I feel inside is unbreakable.

I fly higher, faster, sharper while tunnelling all my contained beauty and power towards the promised eternal exhilaration by my star. It is the motorway of my fate from which I choose not to scape. I stretch my arm, hand and fingers, eager to reach that star isolated in the eternal sky: for an instant I’m getting so close that I can scent a whole new palette of colours approaching; everything that I have experienced up until then feels grey and superfluous.

For just an imperishable moment, I am connected to that wildly tamed star with an invisible strength that defies all logic: for an invaluable moment, I am the star and the star is I. And everything becomes purposeful. As we redefine together all the wisdom of existence, she whispers me the major truth of reality that there is: words that shall forever be adhered to my soul with recurring twinge and laceration.

All the sudden, my legs start to weight. The ground, far underneath, calls and demands me for trial because of my audacity. As I begin to fall, the clouds gather and start to conspire against me, interrupting the sight with my star: they will be the accusation witnesses during my trial. However, as fools they fail to insulate us apart, as the moment we shared was woeful and transcended the physical futilities of reality or perception.

The Sun, now engulfed with an impetuous red colour and filled with a silent rage of disbelief for my daring, raises back up as the solemn judge of this nonsense. I fall swiftly and undoubtedly to the ground, where a multicolour jury will dictate my fate. Everything that once belonged to the kingdom of my own will has rebelled against me as the necessary price to pay to thrive towards real delight and purpose.

I hit the ground hard, deafening all my senses, and the slap of the mundane and physical reality tastes like a nightmare from which I cannot find the way out. My hands try to grip to all the colours and strands of green grass to desperately hold onto any kind of comfort. Instead, realism wins another battle against my mind, showing me that it was just brown and pestilent mud down here all along. No further trace of the flowers and infinite colours that I confounded myself with. As I lean on my knees, they plunge deep and cold in the sludge, penetrating every pore of my skin and spirit. I try to scream, but no sound comes out of my throat; my ears sharpen to discern the whispers carried by my old ally the wind: they have turned into ceaseless echoes that torment my overwhelmed soul, replicating the ravaging reality disclosed.

Everything is brown, wet and fickle from where I stand, and as I am swallowed by the muck, I also lose control and will over my body and confused mind. I am a fatality of the very same reality that I created. No colours, no

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