The Colliding Spheres Within

A thought experiment combining my ideas with occult and metaphysical concepts that led me to that title.

The colliding spheres within are not objects, but impressions, constructs of thought reaching toward what cannot be fully known. They suggest movement, tension, and interaction, yet resist fixed meaning. Their power lies not in definition, but in their ability to provoke the mind into motion.

At first glance, phrases such as “through descent and revelation” appear to imply a positive outcome. Revelation carries an inherently affirmative tone: something divine, sacred, or illuminating. It suggests the reception of truth, whether understood as the word of a god or, more broadly, as a form of cosmic understanding. Even when stripped of theology, revelation still feels like arrival, clarity, or resolution.

Yet this introduces a subtle bias. If descent leads to revelation, then descent becomes merely a path toward something positive, an instrument rather than a state in itself.

This raises a question: Would “through descent and ascension” be a more open formulation?

Ascension, like revelation, carries its own positive connotations; rising upward, moving toward light, opposing what lies below. But this too may be a projection. Human thought tends to map abstract ideas onto physical experience: above becomes associated with light and goodness; below with darkness and depth. These associations arise from perception, not from inherent truth.

In reality, what we call “above” dissolves into atmosphere and then into the vast darkness of space. What we call “below” becomes density and structure. The value assigned to each is interpretive. Ascent and descent, then, are not absolute directions, but relational movements shaped by perspective.

This brings us to the idea of a Locus.

Descent and ascension cannot exist in isolation; they require a point, a plane, or a field from which movement occurs. This locus need not be physical. It may be:

• a plane of consciousness, where awareness shifts between shadow and clarity,
• a cycle of existence, where formation, dissolution, and renewal repeat,
• or the self itself, the center in which all experience unfolds.

Without such a locus, falling and rising lose meaning. Movement requires relation; relation requires position.

Within this framework, “the colliding spheres within” takes on deeper significance.

The spheres can be understood as layers of the self, strata of consciousness, memory, instinct, identity, and becoming. They are not fixed; they expand, contract, dissolve, and reform. Like biological processes of growth and decay, the self is in continuous transformation.

Yet unlike the body, this transformation unfolds in an abstract, metaphysical dimension. One becomes different reflections of the same source: at times coherent, at times fragmented. In this process, one may become a stranger to oneself: the familiar dissolves, and something unrecognizable takes its place.

The collision of these spheres evokes inner conflict, not merely struggle, but interaction between evolving states of being. Desire meets resistance, clarity dissolves into uncertainty, identity confronts its own undoing. Each sphere presses against another, not to destroy, but to reshape.

This collision is perpetual.

The self is not singular, but multiple and in motion. The spheres collide because they are changing. Through their tension, something shifts. Through their opposition, something becomes.

In this sense, the colliding spheres are expressions of continuous inner transmutation. Each state contains the seeds of its own dissolution and renewal. The self is not a fixed entity, but an unfolding process.

And within this process arises a deeper question:

What is the meaning of anything?

Perhaps the meaning is the meaninglessness of everything.

When one accepts meaninglessness as the final horizon of all things, the self too becomes unanchored and freed from imposed structures of purpose. Yet this is not an end. It is a release.

For in the absence of given meaning, the mind does not remain empty.

It begins to create.

Imagination awakens precisely where certainty dissolves. When there is nothing to inherit, the mind generates. When there is no fixed truth, it forms its own constellations of understanding. Meaning is not discovered, it is produced in response to the void.

Thus, meaninglessness is not negation, but potential.

The unknowable becomes a pressure that compels thought to move, to extend beyond itself. The abstract becomes a field in which the mind wanders, invents, and transforms.

The colliding spheres within are part of this movement. They do not resolve into a single truth. They remain in motion; falling and rising, intersecting and diverging, within a locus that is itself fluid.

Through descent and ascension, then, is not a statement of outcome, but of process: a continuous movement without fixed beginning or end, where the self is both observer and participant, and where meaning is not found, but made.