The Seventh Direction

PART TWO: Inner Space. Chapter 2 (part 2)

___Beyond Twilight

Night rolled in quickly as twilight faded.

(Twilight had crept stealthily by—only a moment ago, it seemed. But that brief moment, when night- and day-light magically become one for a short while, had called up memory: large portions of memory, bleached and faded but resurfacing all of their components nonetheless and filling me up as I'd made busy building the fire. And those rising-memories had felt magically like this something added to me then, since, at the same time, really, I'd been elsewhere: still aware of Mother Earth, however, and the beauty of my surroundings [out there in the periphery]: the setting Sun's last golden rays gifting life to the Nature of all things, while night's light commenced to filter through, and the stars began rising in a darkening sky. But that wily moment of twilight had come only as a blur [upon the greater reality of camp, that is], for I was absent by degrees then—playing with fire. Still, twilight-magic had sent me into the abstract and played hard upon my mind . . .

(And I'd clearly seen myself as a component in a better life then—while I thought my thoughts and felt my feelings and delved through bits and pieces of memories and dreams and faraway places—saw myself as a sharing participant with all of Nature's other kingdoms while I had worked with a one-pointed focus to bring the warmth and light of fire to the approaching darkness. And the words "better life" had played havoc with my desires then, and they were key words. I'd held them close while I was returned to the vision of ". . . brass feet!"

(And it appears I was on the right track then, stretching myself nearer to God, in order to find, in order to see and experience a better life; but lack of patience and the use of a powerful-will before its time, had overshadowed my desire for a better life. Lack of knowledge and understanding, then, had resurfaced the One Path to Beauty with something far less than Truth, Love and Wisdom. A false sense of power then [a power lacking knowledge], had shown that that power was bogus and not really power at all! And I fell, then and there, swiftly from a High place, where I couldn't maintain my balance. "Terror!" The stakes were way too high for a kid still adopting foundation stones. Stakes? A shock to the system must've burned a trail through my subconscious, a trail which [what, a day later. Two?] I had wilfully followed—or pursued!—with an ungrounded will. I had traveled too far then. "Brass feet!" Too far from the immediate and from the path set before me here on Earth. Too far from Mother. Too far from the Heart of True Experience . . .

(And without real-life-experiences to breed solid "foundation stones"—this is to say: without consciousness brought to light through walking amidst one's own real-life-situations, one would never gain the knowledge nor the power to see clearly the One Path toward harmony—toward his expression of life in harmony upon this Earthworld—and he would quickly be returned to his desire, to his base desire for a Better Life, but to begin again . . .

(And his "stuff" would confront him, appearing before him—his misinterpretations, his adopted illusions and his false sense of knowing—that he might experience his error and see for himself an opportunity for refinement of his ways . . . or not: to see himself growing or falling fast from Grace, dependent upon himself, his attitudes, his beliefs, concepts, and his own unique connection to Great Spirit—Direct Inspiration being Key, as I remember It. But between the desire for a better life and the appearance of "one's own stuff" that lay in his way, stands the totality of reality, that being that we are not alone. Mother Nature was proving that to me . . .

(My desire for LIFE was proving that to me too, suggesting a greater reason than I could yet fathom for my apparent Fall from Grace—falling in terror, death impending, a cry for life, for help! And it returns fully to me now, how I was whisked from my fall [from out my "tunnel of fear!"] to find that I was sailing toward the Earth. Upheld in the arms of a gentle Powerful Force, we had broken free from some fragmented existence [Asteroids, they seemed], passed by the red-glow of Mars and were headed . . . home. And this Powerful Force was seen then [It has also been heard!]—but It is still way, way too bright and still beyond the realm of my illustration capabilities . . . and our speedy movement never changed [at all!] during the whole episode. Great Speed! And I was set lightly back upon Whitestone to continue. Then things slowed . . .