Sacred Uproar

(excerpted from the revised and expanded edition of
Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia)

Pronoia is closer than your breath and older than death.
It dreams like a mountain, laughs like a river,
prays like the sun, and sings like the aurora borealis.
It's always as fresh as the beginning of time.

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Life is a vast and intricate conspiracy designed to keep us
well supplied with blessings. What kind of blessings?
Ten million dollars, a gorgeous physique, a perfect marriage,
a luxurious home, and high status? Maybe.
But just as likely: interesting surprises, dizzying adventures,
gifts you hardly know what to do with,
and conundrums that dare you to get smarter.
Novelist William Vollman referred to the latter types of blessings
when he said that "the most important and enjoyable thing in life
is doing something that's a complicated, tricky problem
for you that you don't know how to solve."

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The Christian writer C. S. Lewis once said:
"I thank God that He hasn't given me all the things I've prayed for,
because as I look back now I realize it would have been disastrous
to have received some of them."
Pronoia provides the boons and prods your soul needs,
not necessarily those your ego craves.

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Pronoia doesn't promise uninterrupted progress forever.
It's not a slick commercial for a perfect summer day
that never ends.
Grace emerges in the ebb and flow, not just the flow.
The waning reveals a different kind of blessing
than the waxing.
But whether it's our time to ferment in the valley of shadows
or rise up singing in the sun-splashed meadow,
fresh power to transform ourselves is always on the way.
Our suffering won't last, nor will our triumph.
Without fail, life will deliver the creative energy we need
to change into the new thing we must become.

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Pronoia works because there is a Divine Being
who comprises the entire universe.
When I say, "Life is a conspiracy to shower us with blessings,"
I understand that this Divine Being
is the Chief Architect, Builder, and Manager of the conspiracy.
She oversees the evolution of 500 billion galaxies
and every single thing in them,
yet is also available as an intimate companion
and daily advisor to each one of us humans.

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Some lovers of pronoia don't like this part of my rap.
They want pronoia to be free of anything that smacks of God.
Atheism works better for them. That's OK with me.
No hard feelings.
Other lovers of pronoia don't appreciate me
referring to the Creator as "She."
They either want to stick with the pronoun
that has been used for hundreds of years, or else
don't want any gender associations whatsoever.
That's OK with me. No hard feelings.

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The Maker of the conspiracy constantly tinkers,
always keeping the big, 14-billion-year-long picture in mind
and moving in the direction of ultimate blessings
for all concerned.
But the Maker also loves getting help from us.
To the degree that we co-conspire,
the inevitable blessings ripen
more lyrically and in greater fullness.

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Pronoia asks us to be awake to the shifting conditions
of the Wild Divine's ever-fresh creation.
It encourages us to be quite happy about regularly divesting ourselves
of the beliefs and theories that guided us yesterday
so that we can see clearly what's right in front of us today.

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As much as we might be dismayed
by the actions of our political leaders,
pronoia says that toppling any particular junta, clique, or elite
is irrelevant unless we overthrow
the sour, puckered mass hallucination
that is mistakenly called "reality"
including the part of that hallucination we foster in ourselves.
The revolution begins at home.
If you overthrow yourself again and again,
you might earn the right to help overthrow the rest of us.

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Pronoia will change your past if you let it.
It's the language you study at night in your dreams,
the open secret of how to live forever,
the Last Judgment transformed into a daily gift.

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Pronoia is a gnostic art:
Everyone is potentially a visionary
capable of revealing more of its mysteries.
The Beauty and Truth Lab is not the final authority on the subject.