The person was murdered because sacrifice is necessary. Without sacrifice, there is no light.

Knowledge is not given freely.

Efforts must be made.

Flesh must be given.

Blood must be poured.

Seed must be spilled.

Dream a little dream and put it in your palette.

Simon was his name but death has made him nameless. When a body is stripped of its name, it can be used as a vehicle by which to find new meaning. When the name flees the vessel, the meanings that came with the name leave, too. The newly nude body becomes an empty container. One who knows can contact the proper channels and invite Them to express their knowledge through the unclaimed materials of the corpse.

This is why I removed Simon from his body. This is why I killed him.

Simon used his body to be.

Now, I am using his body to know. To learn.

The body is no longer his. I am giving the body to Them. I am asking Them to enter the body so that I may read their shapes.

Their shape is the shape of Truth but Truth cannot not possess a body. An empty vessel must be provided so that Truth can take form through it. So that Truth can be made manifest in matter. In flesh. Truth cannot hold a form, but Truth can pass through a form. They can animate matter with the movements of Truth. And when they do, I will be watching. I will be reading the signs. I will see the way their finger points and know the path that I must follow.

The body is on a steel table. It is the kind of table on which a pathologist would place a corpse for autopsy. A pathologist performs an operation in order to discern the cause of death. I am performing an operation in order to discern the direction of life. The pathologist and I use similar procedures but we carry different intentions. Intentions determine the product of our actions. The pathologist receives his product—knowledge of death—and I receive mine—knowledge of life. The knowledge of life and the knowledge of death are inextricably related products, but their functions differ.

The body is clean, sterile, smelling of iodine. It is ripe for the reception of Them. It is ripe for the breath of Truth.

It is difficult to find Them if one does not know, but once one has found Them, it is easy to contact Them again. One need only direct their attention toward Them. When They feel your attention calling, you will feel Them answer.

You send Them your attention. They feel your attention. They grasp it, and They ride it. Your attention is mounted by the riders of Truth.

If one does not know where to look for Them, one will be unable to call Them. One must first be introduced to Them by one who knows. You cannot light a torch from nothing. One must pass their torch to you in order for you to have the light. The light of knowing.

The one who shared his light with me is now dead.

His name was Simon.

Simon was austere. Jaunt. He had no allowance for the unnecessary. In his mind, all weights were extricated and nothing was carried. You could see the circles of time doubting themselves in the yellow shadows of his teeth.

He was a harsh man, but only out of necessity, not of cruelty. He sought to execute his intentions in the most efficient way he could. Achieving the maximum effect with the minimum output. Waste not, want not. He never said those words with his mouth, but I could hear them in his motions.

Simon impressed himself upon me subtly. He made it seem as if I was finding him and not the other way around. He made his precise orchestrations come off as accidents of which he had no inkling before they happened. When I met him, I thought it accidental. After he helped me to know, I could see that it was no accident. He and his agencies had carefully constructed the chain of events that led to our meeting.

All teachers of the knowing approach their students in this way. The student must not know he is a student. If the student knows that he is being taught, he will not learn. The student must be tricked into knowing. The teacher leads the student to a room but the student has no idea that he has been moving. He does not know that he has been taken until he finds himself in the room.

Once you have entered the room, there is no leaving. Once you have entered the room, you will find the entire world within it. All proceeding experiences will take place within this room.

It is not a literal room. There are no walls of plaster. There is no door of wood. This room is a state of being. Once it is found it cannot be exited. It will expand and shift, but it can never be abandoned.

It is a room that we all shall enter. The room of knowing.

Simon brought me to the room by evoking in me the changes required of all who enter the room. He made these changes with silent deliberation. I would not know I was being changed until it was too late to return. I would not know I had left the mainland until the mainland had sunk beneath the ocean floor.

Another teacher once said to his student, “If you see Buddha on the road, kill him.”

This teacher was not making a novel observation. He was articulating a timeless tradition that has existed between teacher and student for as long as teachers and students have existed. In the practice of knowing, this tradition is intrinsic to the nature of the teacher-student dynamic. Heads must roll. The seed must be spilled.

Dream a little dream and put it in your palette.

The pathologist explores and examines the corpse in order to ascertain the path of death. It observes the qualities of the body in order to find the path that disease—death—has woven through matter.

As one who knows, I am exploring and examining the corpse in order to ascertain the path of life. They enter the body, causing it to be temporarily animated by the movements of Truth. I observe these movements. In these movements, one who knows can feel the direction in which life is moving. One can feel the impulses of Truth. When one knows the Truth, one can follow it. The Truth will tell me where I need to go.

I open the body I used to call Simon, making an incision extending from the throat to the pubis. The organs are displayed. The vessel is open. I direct my attention to Them and make the sounds necessary to summon Them into the body. They are initially unresponsive, but I persist and eventually They respond. I feel Them draw near. I see Them enter the body and witness its parts shift as they are possessed by the shape of Truth.

And now I know. I see the shape of Truth and I see the path in front of me.

I remove the heart from the chest and sip from its redness.

Dream a little dream and put it in your palette.

And now I will continue on the path.

If you see Buddha on the road, kill him.