The End of Time(s)

One night last summer, I was bidden by a conscious thought to step outside the house on the działka. It was a starry night; as soon as I was outside, looking up to the heavens I received this intuition, directly to my consciousness: {{ Everyone who seeks God shall find God in their own way. }}

Our subjective conscious experience in life is our own; it is deeply personal. No one can peer into it, examine it, hold a microscope to it, judge it. Our experience of the numinous, the transcendental, the mystical, the supernatural, the metaphysical, takes a myriad different forms.

Some will see glowing orbs in the sky, some await the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ, some expect Nirvana; for me it is confirmation of the upward spiral of biological death and reincarnation of an ego-free consciousness, evolving spiritually from one life to the next. These past few sunny days, I have had flashbacks occurring with blissful frequency, which tend to reinforce my belief. 

Science has no clear answer as to how the Universe (this Universe?) will end. In a Big Crunch (galaxies collapsing into their black holes which then go on to swallow one another)? Or in Heat Death - galaxies flung further and further apart by dark energy at an ever-accelerating pace, over time losing all contact with each other, and then, one by one, their stars go out? 

And when will this all happen? Sometime around 10¹²⁰ years from now, so no immediate worry. But will the end of the Universe (however it happens) mean the beginning of a new one? Or is that it? Or is space-time merely an emergent phenomenon created by - for - consciousness? In which case, what happens to Consciousness (formerly known as the Soul) when space-time runs out?

Most religions have their eschatology - the study of the end of things. How will this look from the spiritual perspective? Most eschatologies see things ending in an ultimate bliss - a bliss of knowing, of fulfillment, of arrival, of unity, of love. How the journey there is accomplished is for the individual to find their own path. Some through communion with the church, others through countless incarnations. But while paths are many, the destination is one.

Below: this is not America. No. Not the rural/small-town  U.S.A. of the '40s and '50s that feel so familiar to me, but Mazovia, today. My soul has found itself a place that feels familiar. That's where I'll make my stand.

This time last year:
Going round in circles

This time two years ago:
Between wakefulness and sleep 

This time five years ago:

Hammersmith, on Thames

This time eight years ago:
In search of quintessential English countryside

This time nine years ago:
Behold and See - short story, Pt III

This time 12 years ago:
Another return to Penrhos