The Seventh Direction

PART THREE: Stalking Violet. Episode 41

       ["D/A" narrates —A.A.]

Still aware that Master J' was drone-talking, I felt as though I were fallen asleep . . . and maybe dreaming. There seemed a particularly obscure horizon between us, his rambling, warning words arriving garbled, as if from far away. His image, still muted in my mind's eye, was standing once more at the foot of my bed (tiny, tiny), as was my room "muted" as the Sun's early morning rays dawned through the window, rose to noon, then passed ever so quickly into Twilight. I'm sure I heard the phone ring. And as Master J' finished with his long, drawn-out "blah" (and in all that l stretch I'd only managed to pick-off one word: "preparation!"), I came awake (maybe I did), and watched my room recede into him, the room-light forming a brilliant sphere that settled at his center: its core-brilliance creating a mammoth aura around him. I began to realize other surroundings.

I realized myself, fully Alaya, standing in Valley Forest, at thicket's door, watching as Master J' walked away, up the overgrown trail toward an opening far-pole to Wood's End, his whole body glowing. At his center, the brilliant sphere, like a miniature sun (. . . a ball of light) cast its rays, bringing life to the darkness round him—the darkness, a swarm of blackish trees, all lit up now, moving forward, changing, like he was guided on his path by a large spotlight that shone down on him. It was he and a scene moving out of the forest, and I felt as though a part of me were leaving with him. I wanted to call after him, "Master J', Master J'!"

Almost out of sight now, he stopped for a moment, standing aglow, just beyond two magnificent trees. And maybe a third. Then stepping forward a pace, bolts of lightning sprang from his center, out beyond the rim of his light, as if he'd walked through an electrically-charged field. Master J', gone through some gateway, I think so, had exited my dream.

Bye Master J'. . . .

The Wood fell to darkness as his light faded out. I waited for my eyes to adjust. They did, slowly. I waited for something else to happen. Nothing. Then I remembered Master saying that I . . . we (young Wyl and I) would soon be left to our own devices in our search for further direction and/or instruction. 

Well, intuition is a device, and it was suggesting instruction was up and soon coming. Different instruction, different situations—different and likely tougher challenges. Still, different and likely tougher, I knew that solutions, or answers, or the path to the answer, and maybe even success, always lay ahead in one form or another. I knew also that Master J' wasn't limited to one form of service. I knew that he and others helped set my path before me. (Others. Can't wait to meet them.)

The more I felt at one with The Wood, the clearer night-vision became. There was rarely even a shadow here, since moon- and star-light had great difficulty penetrating the lush green covering over me. It was dark but very beautiful here (here by thicket's door)—for the Wood ran thick with old growth here—with few paths worn, winding there way often undetected on a dark night like this . . . or on any night, I suppose, for they'd long since overgrown. And quite unlike any place I'd ever been or seen before, I truly loved The Wood, and I think it loved me, too. It deserves some exploration, I thought. I have an urge to, I think I have an urge to— "No! I want out!" I wanted to go closer to where my heart was, even if just for a glimpse. That was my urge, my innermost urge. But it didn't seem quite right to me, my desire to visit Wyllen—for I knew he was processing and downloading his own particular lessons. Dear God, my heart throbs! But it didn't seem right . . . and I that felt my urge would not be quenched this night. Not by Wyl. Not by roaming The Wood.