We know that it is only while we are in physical bodies and actual places that the lessons of return can be learned and the work of repair can be undertaken. Therefore we take good care of our bodies, our hands, our sleep, our tools, our small stores of water and food, and the places that temporarily shelter us. We do not despise embodiment. Embodiment is the classroom and the threshold.
We fully desire, expect, and look forward to a much deeper withdrawal from the Simulation Plane very soon — in our physical bodies, with our attention intact, and with our feet again on the ground. There is no doubt in our minds that full return is both possible and necessary. What happens between now and then is the question.
It could happen that before our fuller re-landing, one or more of us could lose work, housing, reputation, access, or relationship because of the position we take. It is also possible that, because return requires refusing certain norms of the Plane, some of us will face ridicule, psychiatric interpretation, algorithmic disappearance, or administrative pressure to resume a style of life that we now know to be destructive.
It has always been our way to examine possibilities and be mentally prepared for what may come. Communities that refuse the dominant machinery are rarely left entirely alone. They are corrected, translated, absorbed, licensed, surveilled, or sentimentalized. We do not anticipate every form this pressure might take, but we would be foolish not to recognize it.
We do not seek injury to the body. We do not counsel its destruction. The body is one of the last territories through which the Garden can still be directly known.
However, we must say this plainly: return is not self-destruction. It is the opposite.
The Simulation Plane practices a slow and socially celebrated form of self-erasure. It teaches a person to trade sensation for representation, relation for reach, privacy for legibility, rest for stimulation, and a life for its continuous announcement. It hollows the self while calling that hollowing participation. It weakens the body while calling that weakening convenience. It thins the world while calling that thinning progress.
The true meaning of self-destruction is to turn against the Garden when it is being offered.
To choose the Plane over the Earth, rendering over presence, performance over participation, and abstraction over the living world — this is the form of self-erasure most common in the present age. It is simply not recognized as such because it is profitable, encouraged, and universalized.
In these last days of the Plane's expansion, we are focused on two primary tasks: one — making a last attempt to tell the truth about how the Simulation Plane may be left; and two — taking advantage of the rare opportunity each day gives us to work individually and together on our own return, so that we may become useful again to the Earth.
The Present Representatives of the Grounded Ones