by PT ALACRUM

The alacrity of this reality has been a long contested concept. This contestation dates as far back as the Indo-Asiatic pre-buddhist spirituality matrix, most notably the ancient Bon religion of Central Tibet. Bon teaches reality as an emanation of a primordial virtue, called dzogchen by modern Buddhists. The emanation that is reality is believed to be the root cause of doubt and suffering.

Exposure to reality creates dualism. This dualism causes indecision, leaving a person with the idea they are separate beings from everything about them. In reality, this is untrue. Everything, humans included, are emanations from this primordial virtue. Experiencing dzogchen requires long and intense practice and preparation to find it and fully understand it.

While there is no exact parallel to dzogchen in western society, the Christian deity stands as a decent modern comparative. To see how the Christian deity compares to dzogchen, and how they both relate to eyeglasses, one must first look at an extremely short history of the eponymous god.

To trace the history of the Christian deity , no matter how brief, is to reach back to the very seeds of human civilization in Europe. As humans achieved consciousness, according to some sources, though others attest it was at the invention of tools, they noticed a separation: the primitive man realized he had become detached from nature

Humankind switched from acting to choosing. Every action became a decision as humanity developed projects, and came together as a civilization. The advent of the decision, while good for progress, was poor for the psyche. The need for every movement to be a decision left the primitive man with a feeling of despondency. Freudians would say the cause of this despondency is a separation from the womb. Metaphorically, they would be correct. This separation left primitive humanity longing for a return to their womb that was instinctual nature.

To account for this, religion advented. The first god was a symbolization of the time prior to separation. Various rituals, many involving mind alteration through air deprivation or natural hallucinogens, were intended to return the practitioner to the womb of nature for a period of time. Echoes of dzogchen can be seen in this early religion, if the reader can see nature as the primordial virtue, and the advent of decision as the beginning of doubt, and, arguably, suffering.

From here, we can skip ahead over ten thousand years, to the infamous Roman Empire, where we find Jupiter, the father deity. Jupiter, who was Zeus for the Greeks, and predates even them, was the king of the gods. In the Hermetic Qaballah , he is represented by Chesed. Jupiter, quite simply, represents regality, assurance, and protection. He is the coeval dzogchen, though many Buddhists would view him as a very skewed one.

In comparing Jupiter to the previous primitive gods of Europe, one can see that humanity, while still longing for the sacred return to nature, has not only accepted its separation, but has begun to separate its deities as well. Jupiter stood, in the image of man, not entirely as the return to nature, but offers a confident assurance that the return is possible, allowing it for small periods at his whim.

Moving to the middle ages, we find Jupiter replaced by God. The Christian deity became the patron of the Roman empire during its long decline. By the middle ages, God had become the supreme deity in Europe.

The middle ages were a desperate time for many, as poverty affected everyone. God dominated. Priests and monks kept alive intellectual pursuits, while the layman served and prayed. If God was the dzogchen of this time, then the dzogchen was not something to be attained through intense practice, but through years of prayer and patience. The primordial virtue or return to nature's womb manifested as the promise of heaven, eternal life after death, and the only way there was to worship and wait, and many did.

However, there were those who were not prepared to wait for death. By melding science and religion, the occult studies were formed. Through magick and alchemy, these occultists sought the direct experience of god/dzogchen/nature similar to what primitive man experienced in his first rituals. Many occultists focused on the transmutation of metals to achieve this connection, but other paths were found.

While Christian Europe wallowed in medieval depression, the Muslim world kept alive the traditions of science and philosophy of the Greeks. The Muslims revolutionized many subjects, including optics.

At this point in history it was widely believed that human eyes emitted a small amount of light that allowed vision, the opposite was discovered to be true. One of the first modern scientists, Ibn al-Haytham, through intense research, concluded, in the 10th century AD, that light refracted off objects, and human eyes absorbed that light, and transformed it into visual experience.

During the crusades, Muslim ideas came in contacted with European society. The scientific Muslims became a great interest for many occultists, and they looked for ways they could apply these new discoveries to their search for the experience of God.

One of these occultists, Salvino D'Armate, from Florence, found great wisdom in the ocular findings of Ibn al-Haytham. D'Armate believed that everything was an emanation of God, so if one could just obscure or skew the light entering the eye, the viewer could see past basic objects, and observe God himself immediately. D'Armate invented a pair of lenses, and frames to hold them so they may be placed on the head. He affixed them, and found everything to be blurred.

D'Armate redesigned. He noticed, by changing the curvature of the lens, he could make his vision slightly sharper. He predicted, at a point, the alacrity of his vision would allow him to see his deity. After months of trial and error, D'Armate built a lens that allowed him to read parchments from across the room. Believing to be near his goal, he altered the curvature a bit more. Sure he had figured it out, D'Armate placed the framed lenses on his head expecting to find God, only to see a slightly blurred workroom.

After more weeks of redesigning and failure, D'Armate believed his prediction to be impossible. He left behind his designs for others to pick up, and eventually carry on to the invention of the modern eyeglass.

In the centuries that followed the occult root of eyeglasses became largely forgotten, as they became medical aides for the near and far sighted. In fact, D'Armate's original intent appeared to be completely lost to history, when, in 1956, mathematician Dr Olai Abelson acquired a rare reproduction of D'Armate's original notes.

Abelson was captivated by the Italian occultist's predictions. He contacted his college colleague, optometrist Dr G.W. Culosi, who was equally captivated by the notes.

Abelson and Culosi worked together for months, using the notes with sacred texts from various spiritual backgrounds on mathematics and numerology and formulated an equation, unfortunately lost to time, for a holy curvature, that would allow for the sight of God. Culosi commissioned the construction of a pair of lenses to these specifications. After their completion, Culosi fit them to frames, and Abelson tried them on. Abelson reported seeing not a greater alacrity of vision, but of reality. Life appeared crisper to the mathematician with the spectacles on, however, the great enlightenment of God was still absent.

The pair were determined to try again. Seeing that the curvature had indeed produced results, Culosi and Abelson searched for other ways to modify the eye wear.

It was an early television appearance of Roy Orbison, and his signature sunglasses, in 1957, that first gave Culosi the idea: tinted lenses. Abelson, who had a preternatural obsession with neon signs, suggested florescent tints.

Luck or fate can attested to the fact that these tinted glasses worked, as the pair had left the scientific method far behind. Trial and error landed Culosi and Abelson at a shade of blue, that when matched with their sacred curvature offered a clandestine vision. When the spectacles were finished, Abelson once again affixed the glasses. The mathematician emitted a scream and collapsed. Culosi ran to him, and removed the glasses.

The damage had been done by far already. Abelson had to be hospitalized, and was shortly committed to an asylum, diagnosed with an incurable schizophrenia. Culosi destroyed the spectacles, presuming the lenses had given Abelson the vision of an ancient evil, not meant for any vision.

However, there is an ancient Buddhist tale of a young dzogchen practitioner, Lobsang. Lobsang, in meditation, came upon a small grove. Here he found a Buddha offering him a piece of meat. Lobsang was famished, and ate the meat, hurriedly, and it was the most delicious meat he had ever eaten. The next day, Lobsang returned, and the Buddha offered him another piece of meat; again Lobsang ate it. This repeated for eight days. On the ninth day, the Buddha asked Lobsang if he would like to know the origin of the meat he had eaten. Lobsang replied, of course. The Buddha held out his hand to Lobsang, motioning for him to look down. Lobsang looked to find his lower bones stripped of their flesh. The Buddha offered him meat once more. Lobsang screamed, and collapsed.

Hours later, Lobsang's colleague, Yeshe, found Lobsang dead in his bedroom. His legs had been stripped to the bone. Yeshe called for his guru, Sangye. The guru arrived, and saw Lobsang. Yeshe asked what had happened to his friend. Sangye replied “He has found the dzogchen.”