Tuesday, 15 April 2014
Earth Girs are Easy; embracing darkness Conclusion
Teasing out the last few big knots in my line; I realised Antonio had whisked me away from the hospital room and deposited me almost at my doorstep. My uncle's stately old farmhouse stood before me, framed by the rusty brown barn, and the massive old oak, all of which proved a warm sight indeed. The familiar sound of crushed gravel under my feet, coupled with the scent of a freshly mowed lawn, welcomed me home. Joining in the portrait, a wise old Barred owl hooted at my advance. I smiled, thinking to myself; why do we always assume owls are wise, old, males. Surely, we can assume many are stupid, most are not old, and about half must be female. From his/her perch, hidden somewhere in the oak tree my great grand father had planted, the owl seemed to be making a frantic pitch to gain my attention. Although eager to treat myself to a relaxing bath and possibly a shot or two of whisky, I found myself pausing to spy his antics. Head, rhythmically pacing back and forth, invoked an image of how the John Elway bobble head doll reacts shortly after my uncle brings his Chevy truck to an abrupt stop.
Sounds, light, information in general, came at me from the strangest of locations and oddest of sources. By example, I could determine a small vole had recently dashed through some under brush at the very edge of the property. Heart racing, the little vole was careless to expose his exact location, speed and projected path. This little guy was lucky, not long ago, I had for dinner a wonderful rat, in her prime of life, plump, well fed to the point of being fat.
Like this silly little vole, she too had a reprieve. Over a year past I distinctly recall her crossing the Old Man river at a most auspicious time. That night, the moon was in her full glory; a hunter's paradise. We both knew she should not have been where she was. Back then; her little rat life was only spared because, courtesy of the farmer's late night harvest, I was returning from an all mouse buffet. I always overeat at those buffets! Much as I try to limit myself to a few, I never seem to know when to quit. Three years ago, I ate over a dozen chubby little mice, so many I could barely lift my ass off the ground.
I digress; but I do remember the night well. She was right smack in the middle of the river, helpless as a mouse. Even though I could not have eaten another morsel, I thought she deserved a reprimand of sorts. Flying high above, I placed the moonlight at my back in such a way as to cast an ominous shadow of my wings. She picked up on my presence almost immediately, she was a smart rat, she knew she had been careless, it was a bad night to be on the river. I could tell, by her desperate pace and frantic movements, she expected to be taken at any moment. Answering her fears, I swooped down with speed, talons raised, I sliced at her exposed head. Just before eating her this evening, I observed our portentous river meeting, so long ago, had inflicted a scar she carried to our final encounter. You might say, she had been stamped for processing.
Reaching the house, the light being knocked sharply on the sturdy pine door. The echo from the sharp blows reverberated through the house causing a start in the young girl. Departing from her window perch, she responded to the lure. The door slowly opened emitting the luxurious aroma of fear. Cicadas chirping, the little vole still running, a pale beat from the girls racing heart, these extraneous sounds and more were drowned out by the tiny creaks the door made as it slowly yielded to her wish. I doubt I will ever forget the moment the young girl first witnessed the light being. The blood completely drained from her face as she collapsed from shock. Hitting the floor like a sack of drowned rats; the girl was rendered unconscious. The light being gently picked her up, carried her a few feet to the living room couch, then returned to close the front porch door. Watching the scene unfold, I noticed a strange occurrence, the usual dampened glow of the girl's appearance had somehow been altered, the light being has somehow caused her to shine with an invigorated brilliance. She did not glow like the light being, yet, from that moment forward, she always displayed a brighter appearance. I am very sensitive to the light us creatures emit, I can confirm for you, a light had been turned on in her body that warm summer evening. Lifting off the oaken branch, I soared high above the farm. Stretching out my wings, I banked to the north, making my way to the Old Man river. The warm night air buffeted my body, invigorating me. Pleasantly content, my mind began entertaining the possibility of a midnight snack. The furry little vole lit in my thoughts the very moment consciousness was unceremoniously torn from my owl inhabited reality.
Being yanked from the exhilarating freedom of a night flight on a warm thermal of mid summer air proved unfortunate, however, not nearly as distressing as the destination. Contrasting the joy and freedom of flight; I discovered Antonio had landed me in a big comfy bed. The bed itself was marvellous, I took no exception to it's quality, however, it appeared, Antonio thought it best I assume the consciousness of an old, very old, lady. Surveying what existed below the covers, I came to the horrific conclusion, this body, I was so fervently fondling, was in fact my own. Having come to appreciate the gravity of the situation, shock immediately set in.
This couldn't possibly be me, could it?
Looking at my hands, veined, saggy skin, small brown blemished like water spots on a yellowed old map. I must be very old. Like a crash victim tracing her body seeking injury, with shaking hands, I found myself assessing the extent of age related damage. Frantic as an octogenarian can afford, my trembling fingers investigated my various dishevelled body parts. From head to toe the appraisal confirmed total degeneration. Having estimated my age to be, at the very least, eighty, I sighed with relief in knowing, at least, I had enjoyed a long ride.
My heart raced at a pace not seen in decades, blood pressure soared, shortness of breath led to anxiousness followed by extreme panic. However foreign this old carcass was, I soon realised, circumstances, in this moment of pseudo reality, were extremely tenable. Mind spinning at break neck speed, I thought to myself, okay Karen, the first order of business is to get a grip on the present reality. Take a slow deep breath Karen, slow, deep, again, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, good. Now, release the tension in your muscles. Good; feel your body relax, let the tenseness wash away. Like ocean waves caressing the sand, slowly, each wave takes you deeper toward relaxation.
Wow, that was close!
Prior to this moment, I had never thought about what old age would actually feel like!
Being deposited into the body of an octogenarian proved a rough transition, even by Antonio's standards. The affront of my present predicament was greatly magnified by the fact my previous body was that of an owl. From free as a bird, to life as an old bird stuck in bed, this seemed an ominous start to the lesson. The world is quite different from this perspective. Compensating for decrepitude, I apparently have developed a personal relationship with my organs. When I was a young girl playing with my doll house in the back yard, I never realised that one day I would be forced to develop a deep connection to my heart, lungs and veins. Appraising the working order of this old body, I was shocked to discover I could actually feel my heart at work. More to the point; there now seems to be serious limits to what the old ticker can and cannot manage. My heart and I have developed a working agreement, I take it slow and it, reluctantly, keeps ticking. Similarly, I seem to have become quite personally acquainted with my lungs. I never thought twice about how much air my lungs could provide. Such is not the case now, these old windbags seem to have a picked up a few holes along the way. Making provisions for their long standing service, I presently feel grateful my lungs have committed to hoovering just enough air to keep this old machine in motion. Blood pressure! Hell, I never knew what that was, until now! Pump and push, pump and push, pump and push, somehow, I have become an active voyeur of the relations between my veins and heart. Where once they toiled as silent slaves, now, they are cheered by an audience of one. The thought of cheering transported me back to high school, How handy my pink and white pom-pom's might be at this late stage of my life. Gimme an "H", gimme an "E", gimme an "A", gimme an "R", gimme a "T", what does it spell, HEART! GO HEART GO! GO HEART GO! GO HEART GO!
Lying in this bed, immobile as a worm on a hot summer day, I knew the time for cheering had come
Consciousness returned within an instant, however, it was not what I had anticipated. Instead of seeing my dead body below, I discovered Antonio had again taken me back in time to the moment I first realised I wasn't an owl. The pantomime unfolded below; I could see my arm raised up, followed by the frantic evaluation of my body, all of which confirmed this present experience to be an exact re-enactment of my death. Looking, from above, I was able to peer into the eyes of my dying self just in time to witness the panic of death slowly being replaced with serenity, acceptance and love. During this ultimate personal transition from fear to love my body blossomed into a spectacular light being. There was no doubt about what I had witnessed, finally I was free from the enslavement of illusion and once again reunited with the joy of GodSelf singularity. Where did the EgoSelf go? Did it die or disappear? Will Ego inhabit another being? These, and more, are questions I may never answer. One thing for sure, Antonio had shown me this brilliance many times, I know it's name, this glow illuminating the body below me arises from the pure light of unconditional love.
The ego trickery which hid my true Godself identity had vacated. Unfortunately, it is only before our birth and after our death that we are capable of tasting reality from an unpolluted stream. Death weighs upon our collective psyche like a massive anchor, freezing us in fear while stripping humanity of its connection to freedom. Extensive as our fears may be, nothing strikes greater terror into the heart of a human than the prospect of death. Chained to the chaos of illusion, we live our lives ever fearful an untimely death might cut short the unique signature we call "I". Having invested everything into this chunk of "I", humans find it mind numbing to consider the extinction of self. Seeking to relieve ourselves from the stress of our inevitable demise, we clasp onto all sorts of metaphysical and religious fairy tales. Silly philosophies populate our culture suggesting a bevy of life extending paradigms. Multiple lives, reincarnation, heaven and hell are just a few of the vehicles humans are prepared to step into, anything is better than the prospect of finality.
Where does evil arise from?
The EgoSelf must spin many illusions to support this dreamscape playground in which God plays. Without the maya of illusion, we could not exist in physical form, the EgoSelf would whither away in a blob of formless singularity. Evil is not sin, it cannot be represented with a scale of right or wrong. Evil is merely the affliction of ignorance humanity must suffer in support of a physical world which does not really exist. The more we embrace the illusion, the farther we find ourselves from our true GodSelf identity. The human condition finds us like a sailor on the open sea, we can set sail for whichever port we desire, however, we must realise the closer we sail toward the EgoSelf the wilder, and more chaotic the sea will become.
Why do we live in such a state of utter fear and destruction?
They say ignorance is bliss, however, it has been my experience the exact opposite is true. The EgoSelf envelopes us all from the moment of birth to the finality of death. I very much doubt we can completely escape its domain, after all, we desire the experience of separation, we thrive in the wonder of the endless buffet of choice. Who in their right mind would want to forfeit the beauty of a golden sunset, or the joy of embracing the ones we love. Not to mention, ice cream, chocolate, a beautiful rose, or the endless wonders our world brings to bare. These joyous, uplifting experiences are equally supported by illusions which enable bombs, bullets and blood. Fear is the natural human reaction to ignorance, we always fear that which we cannot understand. Humans, in the face of fear will invariably exhibit one of three reactions, flight, freeze, or fight. Eliminate the ignorance, then you will eradicate the fear, in the absence of fear, love will always prevail. The answer to all of our problems begins with the search for the hidden GodSelf within each of us.
If there is a God, why do so many of us have to suffer?
There is a GOD, this GOD is you, moreover, you are the creator of your universe, this is what Gods do. If you cannot see beyond the illusion of your EgoSelf, then you will create a world where "you" are a single separate being struggling to survive in a very, very large and alien universe. Essentially, you will have become an empty, powerless, enslaved GOD. Without a connection to the power of your GodSelf nature, you will be emboldened with the strong potential to create havoc, chaos, and mayhem, you will live under a yoke of fear, desire and envy. Suffering under the shadow of ignorance you may survive, even thrive, yet you will never release fear, overcome desire, or see beyond envy. Choice is the key to your salvation from pain. Each of us can choose to discover our GodSelf, we can choose to lift ourselves above the quagmire of fear. By embracing the GodSelf being within, you will naturally seek to unite with your brethren, love your enemies and offer compassion where judgement once ruled.
Experiencing my own life in the absence, and presence, of illusion has afforded me the necessary perspective to escape from the grip of chaos. In the light of recent lessons, I have learned a great deal about evil. Where once I imagined evil and good to be forces locked in an eternal cosmic battle, I now understand evil is born and bred from an ignorance of the true "self". Strange as it seems, we destroy our world, kill our brethren and hate ourselves simply because we cannot discover a philosophy which carries us above the illusions of separation, physicality, death and life. Our connection to our true GodSelf nature has been severed by the overblown relationship we have with the EgoSelf, however, this in no way diminishes the truth of our identity.
Truth be told dear reader, there is nothing for us to fear other than fear itself. The EgoSelf may have trapped us in webs of illusion, yet, our true identity remains intact. The GodSelf, has absolutely nothing to do with the human body. We invest all our hope and dreams in this corpse, however, it is nothing more than a vehicle. You would never blame your Toyota Camry for the state of the world. Crazy as this statement may be, from the perspective of an individual who is free from illusion, it is equally insane to believe the start and end of who you are is a 120 pound body limited to a 75 year lifespan. Time immemorial, humanity has been forced to play this game of life confined to this pseudo reality. Toiling under the illusion of separation, the human body bears countless scars, we suffer the fear of loss and tremble in darkness convinced of our mortality. Hoodwinked and shackled by ignorance, we find ourselves mired in a bog so thick we seem utterly incapable of extrication. The EgoSelf, stealthily hiding in plain sight, invites us to play a rigged game. Like the blackjack table in our favourite casino, we want to believe the odds are even, yet, we cannot determine why they must distract us with lights and liquor enough to cloud our senses.
I have learned to accept "self" as the totality of all reality. By giving me the tools to redefine who I truly am, Antonio has offered a clear path beyond the many illusions spun by the EgoSelf. Trespassing past the limited boundaries of this physical plane, I have left my EgoSelf behind, instead, choosing to embrace my GodSelf identity. The evil I see in the world I know is still a tangible part of the great "I AM". Although I may describe the evil and chaos in my world as distasteful, I can see it exists as an important reflection of my EgoSelf. This reflection compels me to seek knowledge, rise above illusion, and discover my true identity. May the Egoself continue to weave its webs, as each sticky pattern challenges me to strive toward a closer connection to the brilliance of GodSelf reality. Wake up Karen.... wake up.... wake up... it's time to go.
Karen: (Fifteen minutes later Karen is lying on the living room sofa, spent, unable to move. Barely capable of speech she looks into Antonio's eyes then utters a most profound and simplistic statement.) "I am awake now Antonio, In Lak' ech brother, I am another you."
Antonio: (Knowing Karen had finally transcended the tyranny of her EgoSelf; Antonio replies in kind) "In Lak' ech sister, I am another you."
Karen: "I know you have to leave now Antonio, tell me, will I ever see you again?"
Antonio: "Although we may never meet again Karen, I can see in your eyes you now know we are not two separate beings." "Much like light radiates from countless facets of a great diamond, we each shine with a unique and very individual perspective." "Each of us can learn to cherish our uniqueness while at the same time arriving at an understanding of self as a singularity." "Truly Karen, we have never been, nor will we ever be, apart." (Antonio kisses Karen one last time. From her front porch she watches as Antonio walks down the driveway disappearing in a familiar flash of blue light. Returning to the house, stars sparkling at her back, Karen reaches for the doorknob as a series of parting hoots echo from somewhere in the depth of the stately old Oak.)
In Lak'ech, brethren... I am another you...
(this is my cat's contribution to the story ooooooooooooooooooooooop89nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)