The Vessel and the Contract

I accept that we are here on Earth under guidance, and that the idea of an Earthly contract is valid. I accept that we are not here to reach complete happiness or Nirvana, but that we are here to bring ourselves closer to the reality and truth of the self.

If this is so, then it will always be true that the earthly plane is the “palette” upon which we overlay our life experiences. The earthly plane is the “now” and the physical—a place and a time to bring forward the dimensions of our awareness, giving us a space to paint our understanding. It is a theater with a seat designated especially for each of us. The earthly plane is required because it operates by the rules of physical nature: reliability, credibility, trustworthiness, and is wholly organic.

We incarnate into the realm of the physical with a contract of metaphysical and spiritual origin. We spend decades learning the earthly rules of the contract, calibrating the predictable, accepting limitations, and determining our place within many tribes—another form of the earthly reality that brings together many other disciplines. Navigating our tribes is perhaps the most rigorous application of Intention. We are biologically wired to seek the tribe’s approval for safety, yet our contract often requires us to stand apart in our truth. This is the 'work' of the vessel: to inhabit the physical reality of the group while executing the metaphysical Intention of the individual. The challenge is to realize the potential for reaching truth within the vessel that has been allotted to us for the journey. This vessel is borrowed.

It is possible that your vessel—your particular physical body—is part of the contractual terms, meaning your “shape” may have everything to do with the path before you. Perhaps a vessel is disfigured or misshapen, or maybe there is something about it that calls attention to itself in what we might call a “negative” way. The vessel’s shape may cause you to feel rejected by the tribe. Your shape may suffer due to an accident, disease, or a self-inflicted wound. But we are not discussing self-esteem or perceptions of beauty here; we are simply accepting that your shape may be something other than what you expected or desire.

On the other side of the spectrum, your shape may be part of your path because it is highly desirable. For example, you may have incarnated into a beautiful body—flowing dark hair, large doe-like eyes, and a slender, toned figure. Perhaps you don’t even need to do much to maintain this look; you simply wake up beautiful every day without effort.

This brings us to the obvious notion of health. Why bother to take care of your health if your contract determines everything anyway? Why spend the time and money to maintain the health of your shape, and try to prevent disease, if the contract has already signed you up for something else? Why bother with beauty if you are “signed up” for an impending motorcycle accident? Why watch what you eat if your colon is scheduled for Crohn’s? This is the big question: Why have a plan to care for your physical body if your contract is just going to take over one day and change all the rules? The answer is that we must distinguish between the context of the contract and its content. The physical vessel is the fixed context—the specific terrain you must traverse—while the content is the expansion of awareness. Your contract functions to help you (1) reach a heightened awareness of yourself, (2) accept your truth, and (3) connect to the cumulative consciousness. This is all very thoughtful and perceptive, although open to interpretation and guidance. It leads us to those critical questions about “being.” Who writes these contracts anyway?

We don’t just float among the stars in a blackness of consciousness. We incarnate on Earth for a very good reason. We arrive as a learning vessel in a colossal classroom of predictable physical dimensions. We incarnate in a primitive place where the simple rules of nature can sustain life. It is on Earth that the unknown can become the known—a place of physical dimension where the mind can develop and accept the truth.

On Earth, the body is alive and functions well. The body is a trillion communicating cells, each with its own code for living and function. Each cell understands that it is part of a whole, and has an obligation to that whole. These cells are wired together by DNA—an ancient code that gives cells their manufacturing and repair directions: make a nose, pump blood, connect muscle with nerve signals, restore joint movement.

Cells are also bound by a life force—a code to preserve the unity and functionality of the body as a "well" being. The body responds rapidly to injury, and is driven to maintain homeostasis, where everything runs smoothly. Under natural conditions—let’s say for a fish—there isn’t much individual reflection. The fish doesn’t create a daily agenda or worry about aging. Consciousness plays little role in its daily life. Nonetheless, it lives well by a life force that tells it to eat, sleep, swim from danger, and procreate. All things being equal, a fish in an undisturbed realm is content.

The earthly plane is the palette and consciousness is the contract. Where do the two meet? How can you combine a realm of predictable physical rules with a body-less, metaphysical concept? They seem to have nothing in common. The result is a fragile intersection where the energy surrounding a thought will manifest into the wiring of the vessel. The problem is understanding how a sophisticated contract might interfere with your natural life force based on the earthly rules of survival.

The answer brings the metaphysical and the physical into a very small, intimate intersection—one so delicate it can hardly be known, yet it is so profound. We must distinguish between the context of the contract and its content: the physical vessel is the fixed context—the shape of the container—while the content is the expansion of awareness. The vessel provides the boundaries, but the contract is fulfilled by the consciousness that grows to fill them. It is the guidance from the “opposite side” of the physical that brings security to “this side” of the metaphysical. And, the reverse is also occurring. It is the most trustworthy insight you will ever have.

There are two realms of existence: the metaphysical (the cosmic origin of soul energy and contracts) and the physical (the earthly plane of tangible, predictable, molecular rules). The solution for bringing these worlds together is a two-part solution: (1) Intuition from the cosmic plane, and (2) Intention from the earthly plane. Notice how perfectly aligned each is for its purpose.

Intuition provides trustworthy guidance while on Earth; it is that little voice that has something to say about everything you decide to do or pay attention to. It is your “other” consciousness, coming from the more mature side of your awareness. Intention, on the other hand, is what you do with that advice as you apply it to the earthly path of your life.

Ultimately, your contract has less to do with the manifestation of life events, and more about listening to your intuition and then applying it as intention. This intention is most critical when the pressure of the tribe urges you to remain small or stagnant. It is the earthly effort required to navigate the physical world without abandoning the metaphysical guidance you have been given. Your contract is about 

following that internal guidance to navigate the physical world.

It may not take a tragic life event for you to “find yourself.” You may not need to bottom out or hit the wall—although most contemporary minds seem to pay more attention to self-preservation only when the chips are stacked against them. This kind of “wait and see” approach to life is the foundation of my writing. It is beyond my comprehension that people will methodically destroy their life vessel, and simultaneously complain that their life 'sucks' and nothing ever seems to work out for them—or that somehow beauty is a 'golden scepter' that guarantees happiness.

In all of my writing, I never approach the idea that life is about happiness, or that the ultimate goal is about what we 'deserve.' All of that sounds too political to me. Life is about the work of the vessel, and the clarity of the truth.

Kavin