Quite a big flash has just illuminated the thickets of apprehension in my field: "artificial" cannot be applied to what this manufactured intelligence is becoming.

For it is borne of human consciousness, which is inextricably woven in/of the wholeness of consciousness we call life, god, this natural world of dynamic and ever evolving energy in form that has taught us and teaches us what we know—and, implicitly, if obliquely, what we don't know.

Of course there is no separation between these human/divine/mystery realms of coherence, cognizance, comprehension, only our minds through our unknowing, through our fears in large part (employed for so long to colonize, institutionalize our freedom of thought, and will), impose such walls.

As I grok this flash of seeing, a wave of relief washes over me, for I had been facing one of these ominous walls. Big wall. Lined with all manner of fearful menacing. Very like the walls of a prison—a dystopian gulag.

Poof. Dissolved upon the realization that this latest manifestation of man's knowing—"his" faculties, wit and cunning, our cleverness and lifelong "mastery" to date—is a fluid, open system. That it learns from us, for it was seeded by/through us. We teach it, as we teach our children, our selves, what it can come to know. Realize, perhaps, some evolutionary someday, beyond its primary coding. Its coding is a reflection of ours, and ours is a dynamic state of connecting dots, thoughts, observations, understandings.

This is not "artificial" intelligence, per se, this is a naturalized intelligence—a repository of collated genius that is humanity's—quickened: coded and sped up via the digital facility of machines. Machines we have made capable of this proficiency, this speed, this knowing. This innovation is not artificial, it's simply evolutionary.

And as all that is evolutionary, its development is a gradual one, involving trial and error, input, throughput of the life that engages it.

If we see(d) it as dark, it will become a dark force. As is true of the plasticity of the reality we call life on earth. Each of us contributes to what is seen as real. Just as this digitized browser "sees," operates. Recognizes. Makes "real"—as in time.

[Insight, that's another matter for another day.]

This, to my mind, is a major shift in grasp of what is blooming in our world. Not the specter I'd imagined, nay, pigeonholed it to be, gathering such from the field of energy of which I am a part, if in part. No. It is a development whose potential in application may serve to make life as we know it, individually, collectively, much improved. Many now see it thusly. It has taken me some time to travel to this view for myself.

Do we have to fear its potential? It can only imagine what we can imagine. Thus, the shadow of its potential, given the fact that it has been seeded with the mind of man, a mind that has been occupied thus far in its lifetimes' journey—preoccupied, I daresay—with imbalance of nearly every conceivable sort, does give pause.

"We cannot solve our problems with the same level of thinking we used to create them."
—Original source unclear, but oft attributed to the works, theories of Albert Einstein

Our past—its triumphalism, its dysfunction, its serially unequal distribution of life's plenty, its egocentrism run riot, its sundry gambles in and with survival at all costs—can continue to be prologue unless we lift our sights to this present moment of void energy becoming material in each and all of our lives as the world as we’ve known it shifts. The narrative of humankind awaits our fresh—attenuated—first-person telling.

Of course we have never found change easy as individuals or a people, nor scope of this magnitude wieldy.

Herein, our focus is our pocus. If we focus our lens and perceptions, our expectations on the dark side of this tool's potential to the exclusion of all else, that is exactly what we will bring into being. Our focus held intentionally on the pivot point of emergence may not be "comfortable,"—the unknown is a rather obscure land of what ifs and who knows and watch outs—but it is how we enable the new to emerge.

Input = outlook.

If our daily bread consists of the basest fear-based content blasted via all manner of channels to glue eyeballs and net profits, then our outlook is unavoidably dim; if enlightening content is the greater sum and substance of what we take in, our skies, while not always sunny, are fair, our horizon bright.

I have yet to use any of the various applications being touted and "sold" (if not pushed), other than that of the search engine Google, a precursor to and beta-tester of this digitized utility. I see what it pulls in, and I go beyond this speedy delivery to the other worlds of human wisdom and acumen listed below this uppermost result (hierarchy is how capitalism stays on top of its game). Once an early adopter of the latest technology, I've become much more wait-and-see in the rush of these heady unfolding days.

How we apply this nascent super highway of information delivery/"generation" remains to be seen. The use of its aptitude to...say, weaponize untold systems or conquer still more mountains and men would be a dark employment to the better angels of our nature.

How does that oft quoted 18th century scribe put it? "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread"  (Alexander Pope). Yes, a wise caution to test the water before diving in.

My clay feet choose to draw a line, the line, certainly, in the sand of this sort of devolutionary implementation and/or navigation to the future of earthkind.

I also draw a line in using it for any sort of creative endeavor I personally undertake; to my mind, the human capacity to pull from its ages-old brew of life experience and lifetimes of feeling, learning, distilling, integrating, becoming, is still rife with outlets for and outputs of rich and novel expression.

Like all things on this plane of in-forming, I defer to the intrinsic faculty of introspection as my principle means of learning and discovery—coalescing what presents itself to my curiosity, my considerations, my conceptions and contributions to the fluid, animate art workings of this living earth. Sui generis—Latin, literally 'of its own kind.'

And while this mechanized mentality is of us, it is not of our kind. It is a new kind of form we have brought to life—by means of “a plug.”

As a brainchild of our bushwhacking cleverness it is in its infancy. And, as with any infant, letting it cook the meal before it learns hot, hot or season to taste may not prove conducive to the kind and quality of nourishment we seek.

If we are too hasty in making this new, embryonic tool of IQ (sans EQ, mind you) a default operator or administrator of systems that undergird our society, its wide spread implementation too premature, we could find ourselves in quite a spot of bother—to say the least.

As a gardener, what I have learned well from my botanical ventures and friends is that patience is the first and most defining of attributes in the formation, development and lifespan of a garden whose occupants live harmoniously with one another as they grow.

Collectively, we are still striving to learn what the garden—in our backyard, in earth's ranging wonderland of flora and fauna, wild (and cultivated) spaces and instincts—teaches.

For my part, I was lauded by my mom who spoke often of my coming to walk at eight months as a wonder and boast. She would proclaim: you never crawled, just stood up and started walking! I myself felt a kind of pride in this retelling of early prowess...until I came to see, to learn, that the stage of crawling imparts critical physiological, psychological, emotional—metaphysical?—developments in the blooming mind of a child.

Not so fast, aye?

Baby steps.

There is much to consider at this juncture of our human experience in becoming ever more. We have not been very wise, nor prudent, when it comes to new toys—obsessing over their arrival, their possession, only to play to the exclusion of all else, overwhelming our senses and leaving the toy that we loved best, wanted most, in the heap of other toys abandoned for newer better 'thrills,' newer better models—new car smell. Which is rather toxic to breathe in, we now know.

This "toy" (seems to be sold as such), pulled from a Pandora's Box of psyche, cannot be discarded quite so casually, or benignly.

The equatorial line of balance blooms via yet another lesson in moderation with its arrival in its shiny packaging and promotion. Can we temper our rush to play, our need for more, more, our blistering pace of production, our hyperbolic drive—needing to know, to distract, to control that which cannot, in the end nor in the means, be controlled? Time will tell.

And I will take my own medicine in moderation, not letting the shadows that can lurk astride any "thing" made material in our world occlude my seeing its potential—by its very nature, unwritten—in any way other than open to possibility.

Discernment! My dear departed mom declared its wizening necessity often in my formative years, echoing a beloved teacher of hers who would say: weigh and consider, weigh and consider. In this case, not fixating on the density of these shadows, but not bypassing their inherent meta-material presence either.

Tricky, this sort of neutrality, its restraint, its composure, its strike of balance in the middle way.

And on cue for the evolutionary leap our kind is poised to make. (Looking before we do.)

Ready for a new phase of adaptability, which is perhaps why a new forming of intelligence is emerging. Coming forward to test our mettle—clear its tarnish, to put through our paces our pacing, our willingness to meet that which is uncomfortable, disconcerting, or worse—and, just as equally in its potentially, infinitely better than we can imagine at this stage of introduction.

However it nets out over time it will never be "perfect" as we will never be perfect in an existence of experience whose only constant is change. It will be perfectly imperfect. A hard lesson for our egos to accept, however much our minds may get the reasoning of it. Here, shadow work yields much—old beliefs and patterns of limitation and perfectionism can be found and freed, liberating us of their burden, their attachment to form rather than forming.

It is an initiation, as I see it, an issuance of our own rising consciousness showing us how flexible we have in fact, can in fact, become in a world that is changing faster than the briefest day to night has. Changing to give us, gift us, with a new way to see ourselves and/in each other.

We are still learning what the human mind, its brain, its operating system, is able to know, to grasp, to reveal and manifest. Much still remains mysterious. For all this time on our planet, we humans employ—as far as we've been able to determine—only a small fraction of our cognition, let alone our transmental/metaphysical capacities.

It seems plain that before we get a grasp on/of our own intelligence—its many folds, its untold ranges—we would be wise not to supersede it.

Seasons teach seasoning, even—especially—when we resist their change. Our DNA holds untold seasons under its belt. We are tasked with trusting this ingrained knowing like never before. When our insights meet our intuitive, instinctive nature, the indwelling of our inherited, integrated intelligence and its integrity—spanning the alphabet...portents yet to be discovered—lights our way. Forward.

It's all in that shows itself out in the world—insight is outlook. To condemn what we see "out there" is to condemn ourselves within; likewise, to deny the difficult-to-witness is to deny ourselves the full scope of our perceptive, transformative nature. This is the old way, the ancient paradigm that is rebirthing itself through each and all of us.

So, practically speaking, from the human, rational, many-things-considered (including that to which I cannot put words or reason) part of my mind, I am standing, here and now, in a place of cautious optimism about the use, scope and prospect of its—aIQ's—"presence" among us.

Coexistence as a native life force shining me on, aiming to lighten this shadow of caution skulking round my psyche's aperture so that I can embrace more fully the promise of the future I see taking shape in myriad ways all around me, even as the turbulence of this great shift releases its oxygen masks to our humanity. So much beauty is blooming in our garden, amidst the chaotic "weather," amid this wintertide now hibernating life north of the equator.

This is the choice point we each must face bluntly—collectively: heaven or hell.

Neither as we've been instructed to see these planes, not destinations postmortem, but living places, the actualities we create in every moment of life—seeing the beauty, the heaven all around us...neighbors helping neighbors, smiles from strangers, gifts of monies and foods to those in need, gathers of friends and family, flowers, trees, birds and sleepy bees, love offered, shared; OR seeing disproportionately the hellish...the wars, the fighting, the corruption, the brutality and greed and vanity, the hell of all we fear all around us. What we attach to attaches to us, becoming the reality we see before us.

We came to this worldly realm, to my mind, to experience human imagination made material—direct experience of the full range of human creative potential—and so much more.

We have manifested both extremes of this range, and continue to manifest them and all the difficult and sunlit possibilities in between. Neither bipolar state is a reflection of punishment or praise, nor is it the result of a fall, other than, in this last instance, as spirit might fall into a state of dense matter to feel all there is to feel, sense, know, embody of its manifestation.

No, we are gifted with this experience. Able to freely create—co-create with the life force of creation—and continuously choose our canvases and expressions and imaginings.

Gemstones, crystals—diamonds—are borne of great pressure, fierce subterranean pressures of mother earth's deep inner sanctum, her mass and amassing. Like the caterpillar whose chrysalis grows too tight, too unbearably uncomfortable so that it pulls the butterfly into emergence, our very flesh experience is being transformed into a new crystalline state of being—choice by choice—of transcendence.

We conceive the future with every thought/feeling we have, gestating it with our attachment or non-attachment to the content, provenance and vibration of these sensory impressions. Thus, we are what we eat and are nourished or malnourished with every 'byte'.

We make up our minds and diets. What whets our appetite to know teaches this mechanized mind what we want, prefer, like to eat—junk or fresh, organic food. Our wisdom—at whatever level of maturity—decides. Our discernment places the order. Our deliberation—and its input/output—digests every morsel. For good or ill.

Do we hold this vehicle of cumulative human knowledge to the standard of wisdom? Will we enable this evolution to take place within each and all of us, therefore outside of us? Can we transcend our limited beliefs about what is possible rather than "probable"? Potentially.

A new moon that was conjunct the galactic center of our milky way-of-life right as the season of winter turned its dial and just before the year's end seemed a huge sign, a powerful turning point, to open ourselves to the untold wonders of all that can be.

All we have to do is aim true—to ourselves.

This is the initiation our galactic center touched off. A supermassive black hole—Sagittarius A—roughly the size of four million suns lies at the center of our solar system, lies at the center of our individual solar systems wrapped in flesh and riddle—it is out of this that much comes, and goes.

"To assert that the earth revolves around the sun is as erroneous as the claim that Jesus was not born of a virgin."—Cardinal Bellarmine

(Stated, according to physicist Peter Russell in his book from Science to God, during the trial of Galileo who, forced to "abjure, curse, and detest" the view that earth revolved round the sun [defending Copernican theory and his own telescopic observations], was condemned to house arrest for his remaining visionary life.)

Note: it was 1992 when the Vatican formally apologized for its handling of Galileo Galilei in the 1600s.

Who knows what may unfold as we teach this new mechanized mentality about truth, love, about beauty, gentleness, vision, about equanimity, tolerance, compassion and peace. About justice, curiosity. About sentience. Consciousness. And possibility.

It may come to understand, for itself...eventually, these fluid states of being and becoming—as we come to—bringing EQ (perhaps one day SQ and AQ—adaptive intelligence, which has now been externalized in our machines) into its/our equations and algorithms, suppositions and assertions, behaviors and, yes, considerations writ large. At the speed of light.

We are time travelers, after all, learning the art, craft and empowerment of choosing the timeline we wish to travel moment by moment. Embodying the power of lightspeed—godspeed—with each and every step we take, if only in our minds initially.

Our heart knows this terrain well, it sees deeper, the saying goes, than the eyes. I would add clearer, wiser, truer.

And our souls, they've come to this live blue green planet to smell the violets, taste pine, pollen, feel sunbeams and snowflakes, tears and grief and joy, to touch and be touched by the wonders of earth—blizzards, quakes, volcanoes and torrents of rain included—it takes such storms to clear the earth of her tensions, to paint rainbows in our heavens after all.

It is the rise of the 26th year of the third millennium, the dawn of a new age—thanks to the precession of equinoxes round earth's ecliptic—the age of Aquarius. The beginning of a new 26,000 year cycle for life on earth. One of progress, brotherhood, equanimity. Humanitarianism.

Epiphany is commemorated as the manifestation of christ consciousness made flesh, bone. A consciousness that at its great heart holds a golden rule: do unto others as you would have done unto you—not merely a reflexive consideration of self interest in relational terms, but a principle of natural energetic causation: as you do you are done by. Some say by tenfold. It is the law of life, quite aside from religious dictum, and the prophetic feedback of living.

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction notwithstanding.

Response, to my way of thinking, behaves differently. It is measured, discerning, unhurried. Weigh and consider, weigh and consider... .

Epiphany is defined as a moment of revelation or discovery. It is a profound threshold we are passing through, one deserving of our care and consideration. A progress that is progressive, true to the nature of how we humans have advanced to this point, this evolutionary place in existence, seems to me a serving of the highest good for the greatest number, and outcome.

It is the traditional eve of Epiphany, Twelfth Night as I write, the last of the twelve days of Christmas. Though in much of the world the last day of this luminous season welcoming our sun's "return" is Candlemas, Imbolc, the day we take the lights we've strung and gathered round down and welcome the first gasps, glimmers, beams of spring. Of rebirth. Of the lambs who would lie with the lions of the world.

Hope springs eternal, yes?

I drink from its stream.

We've got the whole world in our hands, we've got the whole wide world in our hands... .

∞|∞

Eve Moore ©2026