The Seventh Direction

PART ONE: The Flow. Episode 12

Doc's eyes were suddenly piercing and unlike him, telling me to go on. So I said: "Picture this—" But I had to wait for it, but Doc didn't seem to mind. And I waited. But nothing came. I flexed my brows at Doc, in a "sorry" kind of way. He rolled his eyes, up and back (—weird): I mirrored him, turned my eyes inward, too. Attention. Focus. Then:

"Picture the darkness of space in the Ancient Past—a sub/stance of the Creator which is vibrant and willing to receive the light.............and the color of Love erupts, and new life results. Picture the darkness of space-in-motion with no light cast upon it. There is nothing to see. All remains darkness. No new life. Nothing. But for man it is somewhat different. If he imparts no willingness, desire, intention, awareness, listening, or if he chooses not to seek, still he is blessed, still the Spirit urges him on. But with no true light of his own to cast upon his darkness, and no real intent to seek Spirit's guidance, he goes off expressing someone else's light, or an old, outdated, interpretation of it—often an interpretation obsolete in an existence where change IS. More often, one that denies Great Spirit. All I can see transpiring here, Doc, is darkness cast upon darkness. But we've been gifted. We've been given 'eyes' to see the truth of such a darkness—to see the created-illusion within ourselves reflected in our lives (and the Cosmic Mirror blows my mind!): to see ourselves falling fast from grace so that we can learn thereby and seek to raise ourselves. But, well, it's not so easy to do, don't we know, and it takes time and patience and effort to learn to raise ourselves. Still, sir," (the flow began to ebb) "after all is said and done, I think that as a world or as an individual we are all doing for the most part the best we can."

Rolling my eyes back to the room, I spied Doc: "Sounds like Spirit's always knocking at the door—right, Doc? Sounds like there's a spark within our emotion that makes us feel whether we want to or not?" He gave no verbal response. No kidding. But his eyes were still shining, but his brows were down, and he smiled a . . . a familiar grin, one unlike him, one I had seen before. But I couldn't quite place it. I continued:

"No matter how powerful we may think we are, the one thing we cannot stop is 'feeling.' No. No. No. If we ever became successful at lopping off the one thing we can NOT help but having, we would die, Doc. But we try to lop off our feelings, don't we?" Little trace of anything, then a bit more grin seeped through, like . . . well, no, it couldn't be.

"So maybe we've gained a little understanding, a little enlightenment, some clarity with which to see where we are headed. But 'talking it' is one thing, and walking the talk is an entirely different discipline: an out-and-out challenge. But imagine that, Doc, walking right back through The Light like Wyllen did, with Alaya, with consciousness now, with something learned and his own truth gained, with the ability to co-create with the Spirit we've found: Love interacting with Love. Loving Self. Loving all the other kingdoms and the different sub/stances."

Doc went way up with his brows again. And that grin again! But I had nothing more to say. . . .

                    ........................

I guess "expressing my feelings" was over. Just as well, I shouldn't go any further right now. It might get me into trouble . . . big time. Besides, I was tired—spent. New plan: I want to go home. I wanted to relax, sleep, dream, or maybe put pen to paper. The journal I was writing, re: Alaya's metamorphosis, was getting dusty. Anything to find solace and some clarity for myself.

I looked to the window, all frosted over now. Cold front moving in. Doc was still standing there, chin in both hands now, fingers rubbing his temples, like he was trying to figure something out . . . or find clarity for himself. He seemed a bit washed out.

'Clarity—' Mm-hmm. I felt inspired, not talking out loud but more listening. 'What a great way to explain what happened to Wyl: clarity, BIG TIME!' Old Doc: Doc's eyes slowly lifted, he looked at me funny, his grin wider now, his self more faded-looking, like maybe he thought I was reading his mind. And maybe I was—or he, me! Fading further, he nodded his fuzzy head ('—yes!'). No spoken words here: Me: 'What happened to young Wyl: Clarity, BIG TIME! Like he came clear with Spirit, with that spark in e/motion, and he raised his vibration, his clarity his Portal, then on through the Portal he simply up and vanished!'  (Wow. Inspired-thought.)