Whoever said opening the third eye was enough to reach enlightenment was surely wrong. 

When our one human race bloomed at last, sprouting ascendant chakras like leaves unfurled toward the sun, we reentered the golden yuga. And like magic, the great things of yore slowly returned to the people. We had made it through our times of tribulations as a collective. And those that hadnt, well we would patiently wait upon their reincarnates to attain that same Buddhahood before all moving on as one.

It was readily apparent then that the wheel’s great turning was indeed just as the puranas of old had intimated. 

But as our consciousnesses expanded, so too did our abilities to see beyond this one plane. And with that we came to revisit the old words and their meanings. We saw that the cosmic order that held our universe together was only our own. Floating in the boundless causal Ocean, that frothing primordial abyss, were more bubbles, more universes like our own, all winking into existence then blinking out in accordance with their own circumstances, and each operating according to its own dharma.

That our cosmic order, our dharma, wasnt so absolute was a contentious revelation and a large contingent were left broken in spirit. But it livened my spirit, I must selfishly admit. To know there was a larger order to seek, a dharma of dharmas so to speak, meant there was more to ascend toward. More for us to learn and experience. More to be. 

Did the Boddhisatvas of old know of this? I imagined meeting one in another life and them smiling back at me in amazed wonder, or them simply nodding their aware affirmation: both possibilities excited me greatly and near-equally.

Worlds upon worlds. Planes upon planes. Bubbles upon bubbles. And at the spiralling lotus-centre of each bubble sat its own maha-deity responsible, we thought, for observing his or her own children and rearing them to maturation. A universe bringing itself to crescendo before blinking out in that ocean of chaos.

My third eye sees deeper now. In the abyss between worlds, before and after worlds, stirs Tiamat, the original chaos-construct, the alpha-omega maha-dragon that begat all, will beget all, will destroy all. It is fair in its creation and destruction. It plays no favourites.

Well the maha-deities would expand their domains infinitely were it up to them, such is their love for their own. But such actions would encroach upon other universes, would spill into and cannibalise its neighbours: so pure a love would consume all else.

Tiamat, detached and unthinking. Unfeeling and unbeing. It besets each deity against the others as ultimate deterrent. Only an all-consuming love can push back against another all-consuming love. Only love can assure a destruction so mutual as to ensure an enforceable security.

I see again the bubbles in the causal Ocean with even greater clarity. I note again their winking into existence, their blinking out at random and realise they extinguish at twice the rate they form. Far too many to attribute to the greater dharmic order that is natural chaos, or to Tiamat. No, these failures lay on the lotus-sitters. Maha-dieties either lacking in sufficient love to expand beyond their cosmic remit and thereby be pushed back by another in deadlock. Or, those with exceeding empathy towards neighbours with the sufficient will to love.