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This is one of my favorite passages from Ken Wilber's One Taste:
Anamnesis, or The Psychoanalysis of God
Every time I read it, it's like tripping through evolution, that crawling howling push that still sings in cell memory. As I read, I remember. And I wonder at this period of seeming flatlander I live these days (shamanic hoohahs, notwithstanding).
When you read it, do you remember?
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