Friday, April 15, 2011
Twisted Tales of a Truthful kind...
It is questions like these that haunt my days of late, questions of how and why things turn out the way they do... The sad part is that it is in the knowing that all happens for a reason and all is as it should be that I suffer most when it is supposed to be in the knowing that we find comfort and inner peace...
I suppose that is the paradox of existing in our current reality, this contrast between what we know to be a truth and what we see as being laid before our eyes for us to accept as a truth. It is the paradox that confuses the mind and muddles the heart, gives rise to a growing sadness and at the end of the day brings a certain sense of wonder at the vastness of the deception. The challenge is to accept that the deception is not created by any other than ourselves, that the lie we fight so boldly and bravely against was in truth set up by us in expectation of the experience that would come with our growing awareness of it. Yet how does this play into our everyday lives? How do we connect the dots so to speak of what we know to be true and what we see and feel to be how things are in our current state of being?
Today is one of those days where I would like to write you all an uplifting tale of wondrous adventures filled with light and love and all things grand yet in as much as my spirit knows that to be the reality of it, my physical self sees what it was designed to see and therein lies the dilemma – for which of these two conflicting and contradictory truths do I for the moment shift my attention to. I imagine as with all things this too has its reasons for being and perhaps it is simply so that I may tell the tale in the hopes that others out there may come to understand that life as we know it is not always what it seems to be.
So I offer up a story, a tale that defies time, space and all things reasonable and crosses the boundaries of sense into a world beyond what we know to be the space in which we live...
Thus the creation of worlds, the creation of time, of space and all that fills it. For more time than humans as we are have the capacity to understand, this being, in all its glory, continued to divide itself and through this act of division, to be and create the universe and the world that we now call home. Through this act of division and expansion this being became all that is and remained in a state of continued expansion and growth until the day that the heart of this being knew itself to be divided and longed again to be whole. Two halves it had become, and somewhere buried in the vast deep recesses of the minds of those it had created there lingered a longing and a loneliness that could not – would not be explained until the day that it remembered exactly who it was and during a long dive into non-reality the conversation that would be the deciding factor in the continued existence of reality manifested as we know it to be was played out in the most unlikeliest of places. Now here it must be stated that this is not the first time the choice has been made, nor will it be the last; for every lifetime one must come to decide the fate of all those who have been birthed over the multitude of Eons that this romantic drama has continued to play out. On every level they tell me, in every reality, every dimension and every lifetime in every moment the question lingers in the place of not being – will today be the day we decide we no longer wish to be apart?
For that is the crux of the debate that is waged in one brief flash of insight for those who have been chosen to touch on for not more than the blink of an eye the truth of what was, what is, and what will always be the sacrifice of those who came before.
That this conversation is played out through the mind’s eye of the living is merely a form of expression of that expansion, and when it comes to communication there is no doubt that there are much easier methods than the intrusion of one’s thoughts yet for the sake of explanation and in the interest of further exploration of the deepest of loves for all of mankind, sometimes that love is exposed for what it is, regardless of the pain it may cause to the one who has long before coming, agreed to be the voice that The One has chosen to whisper through.
A presence that is felt and not seen, a sense of comfort and a rush of passion; the arrival of an old friend and a long lost love is where the story neither begins nor ends. A glow that envelopes the senses and allows for the function of the body to carry on as it was without the spirit within being directly responsible for the continued actions of the physical form; a dawning realization that contact is once again being made and that the reality of what is must temporaily shift so that the truth may once again be revealed. An age old discussion continues where it had once left off...
“You said you would always be there, you told me you would never leave...” a mild accusation, a rebuttal that is more spoken and thought than it is felt...
“And so I am, as I have always been; you know it to be true so why question what your hearts whispers to you in times of doubt...”, a gentle reminder perhaps but a string of words that ease neither the pain nor the sorrow of separation. “I am what I am, we are what we are, we can never be anything other than that, why does this still bother you after all this time? How is it you still do not feel me with you every minute of every day? How is it after all this time that you do not feel me near?”
“As you say, I am who I am, and in this form I do not know you as you are I only know what can be seen, what can be felt, I cannot always feel you, and in this lifetime I have never truly seen you; I only know from feeling that you are there and at times you feel so very far away...” The body in which she now lives continues with its actions yet her mind, her energy travels to a place where thought is pure and there is a separation between her sense of reality and sense of self; the conversation takes over and the real world as she knows it for the moment slips away....
“I am never far away...,” exasperation perhaps, a sense of irritation at the lack of appreciation for the magic that is their existence. “How many lives? How many shapes and forms. How many names? – All of them different yet all of them the same... I told you I would always be, and so it is... so it has always been, through every lifetime lived, through every love shared whose eyes are they that have been looking into yours?”
“And where are you now that you are here with me in this way? What form would you take in this life, in this time; does it even matter anymore? Who you were and who you are... Are they even still the same? You told me once that I was yours, could never be anybody else’s that we were two halves of the same whole, that there was nothing that could separate us. You come when you wish, and leave when you wish and all this body knows is what it is to have you here and the loss of knowing you are gone again. Had you never let her see who she is perhaps the sorrow would not be so consuming, had you let her sleep as she was, perhaps her waking dream would not be so confusing. You chose to wake her, you chose to remind her and then you abandon her knowing who she is and expect her to still live as they live, walk among them aware and yet unable to act on her awareness. Why?” It is a child’s plea, and an argument she can’t possibly win yet insists on making, even though she knows the truth of it on a much deeper level she is coming now from a very human place, a place of the physical unable to grasp the vastness and true magnitude of the spiritual truth of it all.
“It was never my choice, it has always be yours; it has truth be told always been hers. So what would you have me do? I told you I would always be here, and so I have... it is she who chooses the body, she who chooses the life, she who chooses the eyes she wishes to see me through; it is merely for me to choose to become the body of each new person she shares that chosen life with. How many times has she looked into the eyes of another and seen the same light? Is it for me to choose the experience she wishes to have or is it for me to merely be present and a part of that experience. You know the answer even though you hate the question; but I ask you now can it ever be any other way?” a question asked by a all encompassing male presence that does not merely seem to be around her but flows through her; a question she refuses for the moment to bring herself to answer...
“Yes, a life time of lovers all with the same eyes; that has been her existence; but even as you ask the question she would ask the same of you? Why can’t it be? Who are you to tell her now when she calls to you to come to her as you are and not as you perceive her to wish you to be...? How many times have I made this request that you come to me as you are, that you let me see you as my spirit knows you to be and not in the multitude of human forms you have chosen to occupy over the vastness of the ages. Why will you not let her eyes see you as I see you? What have either of you to fear? She can feel you. She knows you are there, she senses the power that surges forth from your being and yet you deny her the one thing she requests in order to accept what you have asked that she accept...” A dare, come as you are she thinks to herself, show her what this thing is that invades her heart and mind, robs her of her peaceful sleepy existence; show her what you really are....
“I cannot, you know this, if you wish to see me as I am, you must sleep and come to me as you are... across the veil where the truth of us cannot hurt you or haunt you upon your return to life as she knows it to be... allow this body to sleep and we can talk, allow her to remain awake and things must stay for the moment as they are. This you also know to be truth and this too cannot be any other way...” With the soothing male voice comes the urge to close her eyes, and she knows that for a brief period of time they will be together as they once were even as she knows that upon waking she will not remember the images and feelings she is so desperately trying now to recall...
“Brief glimpses now of what was, that is all that is left for us; will it always be this way? How long must we wait, how long must this go on?”
“And so we come back to the question that you never wish to ask, so we come back to the topic that you avoid and the choice you must make each and every life time that you wake to the reality of who and what you are. You know the cost of our reunion, you know what will happen to them if we choose to be together as we once were, you know... So I ask you, is it worth it, knowing the cost and the price that must be paid, is it worth it just so that you and I can be together as we once were?”
She sighs, “Yes I know the cost and my answer in this life will be the same as it has in every other, the same as I imagine it will always be; it will never be worth it. So we stay this way, partially aware of what is and you will always come to me in this way, and there will be brief interludes of exquisite joy and unity, glimpses into the union that once was our being yet in the interest of their continued existence we will remain as we have done for so long, incomplete and separated by our expansion.”
“I will always come to you, to remind you of who you are so that your creation will be honoured through its never ending exploration of the physical manifestation of light; and you in your knowing of the price will continue to deny your power and allow those in this life and all who come after to play out their dreams as we agreed so very long ago that they should.”
“And will I always feel this alone?”
“You are never alone...”
“but we are not what we were...”
“no but we are also not yet what we will be...”
“don’t leave me...”
“I never do...”
A last fleeting thought and the sense of wonder disappears, life returns with all its normal sights and sounds and the memory of the moment begins to fade. Will the meaning behind the discussion linger? Does the truth revealed during this brief lapse of reality matter? It is after all just a story and in the waking remnants of what was for the one who lived it is it now merely the memory of a fleeting thought come alive inside a dream... the choice is made, life goes on and another life of loneliness begins anew.
Niki Norlock, author of Truth - My Synchromystic Journey