["D/A" narrates —A.A.]
7
". . . it used to be."
It was beautiful moonlit, starry night, here at Wood's End.
'Here, where we watched the goings on (—ssshhhhh, Dorothy . . . listen).'
........................
"It USED to be that we stood together, careful of each other's space; the only real space we could create, each for himself, always had permeable walls. We could not subdue life, nor tame it . . . but for the moment of experience. Life had to move. And so it was we created a place where Life could feel at home. This was the way. This was OUR way.
"But then . . . then the New Knowledge came.
"We tried-on its vibration, branding 'all that went before' upon The New—thinking that we knew, setting our own conditions upon it, and proud of ourselves and our magical ability to apply the New Knowledge before we had learned to listen. We tried it on. We tried it on! But we didn't listen, didn't observe. We didn't, didn't. Pride interfered, and . . .
"IT USED TO BE that we stood together, careful of each other's sacredness, tender like Life itself in our dance together. This was all we knew—to be like Life. To be like Her movements. And we all had our different colorings within unique fields around us, our interplay magically blending our colors and raising the energy motions, raising, raising, till the White Light surrounded. A while, a long while, sometimes longer, then we would return to the ordinary as we moved away from our dance. And . . .
"IT USED TO BE that we stood together, beside each other, careful of each other's space. This was all we knew: to be like life itself. But then . . . then the other side of Life came.
"As the New Knowledge initiating New Life emerged, storms raked the land, spilling color everywhere. The world we knew was dying, my surround was dying, growing quickly barren. And I can't recall if it were the tears or the fallen leaves that turned the river rainbow; but I do remember Old Red Sun appearing on the horizon, turning orange, and then yellowing, moving swiftly, streaking across the sky towards me; its lengthy tail flaming as it passed over. And my eyes seemed to open then, like The Veil had just been lifted. Yet I had no desire for it to be so—that the containment of my permeable world should be gone. Gone . . .
". . . a bubble broken.
"A THUNDEROUS ROAR, off in the distance, slowly gaining momentum, rising up in the wake of a fleeing Sun, pealed through the mountains. I turned to look, but saw nothing. It was too far away, hidden by the peaks and pealing, echoing, bubbling, bouncing-sound off rock, growing ominous and touching a far-place deep inside. I trembled, quaking—this strange, deep feeling staggering for release. And I slumped to the earth (a bubble broken) and tried to shut it out, to leave it all behind and drift away with the old Red Sun I knew so well. But there was no Movement in the trying, and I lay restless, saddened that my wings were gone. All this . . . weight!
"River's muted chatter, melodious, full of life, rang through the dead-looming roar, and I rallied, rolled, and looked into the water. What I saw, reflected atop the waters, was an old man alone, no sign of his former friends, lost in a changing world. A white-worn limbwood sat on the bank. It became my first new friend.
YOU ARE READING
The Seventh Direction
AventuraA spiritual, mostly fictional adventure, which takes place in both the 3rd and 4th dimension . . . and perhaps occasionally in the 5th. Under the umbrella of Mother Earth---School of Learning, Freewill Zone---the story, rather than looking at us as...
