In my last post I examined the role of Love and Will on our journey into Mystery, that which lies beyond our space-time experience. Having seen ego for what it is, a misguided and over the top defender of perceived Self, we now have the ability to step back into our spirit Self and observe from afar our little psychic games. This ability to detach from ego’s script and let the narrative of Truth come our way, is the key to being a mystic.
So with this newly discovered ability, energised by Love and Will, the gifts of Spirit Breath, what’s next on the Path of Discovery.
May I suggest that we gather together our new perspectives and focus them on the world that swirls around us viz Nature and its inhabitants. This space-time playground that we find ourselves in is truly a mysterious and awe-inspiring place for those with the eyes to see. In our normative state we run around doing our thing, trying to survive in the jungle painted by ego. Our level of unawareness is the treadmill that keeps us hooked on ego, the trainer who will get us there, even if it kills us.
Human reason is great for analytic discovery but unable to take us to the essence of what lies before us. Classification has its place in human affairs but not in the world of spirit, where something else is required to touch base with Ultimate Reality. This ability to see beyond our world of separation is the gift of the mystic and poet.
So how are we to progress as we awaken to the nature of Nature?
We’ve hitherto learned to observe without judgement on both our outer and inner worlds. Let us now observe from our I Am with the eyes of innocence, the eyes of Being, the eyes of a yet uneducated infant. Let’s step back from categorical knowledge and labelling to the sensory world of presence. As we do we’ll begin to sense a deeper Reality, one that lies behind this world of form, a first step into the Unknown where we are known.
Please let me illustrate with a little example from my own experience.
Last week whilst walking my wee dog Suki I came across a wild rose-bush growing at the side of a hedgerow on a country path. Normally I would have given it a momentary look, classified it as beautiful and quickly moved on. But this time something deep within drew me to the bush to smell the multitude of white fragile blossoms that clothed its rampant frame. The sweetness of perfume that hit my sense of smell worked its wonders deep within my psyche-soul. I was being touched, by something greater, something more than the rose.
A Voice within asked me to stand back and observe the wholeness of the bush without the labelling of my scientific mindset. No longer was the rose-bush a simple rose-bush but a messenger, a channel of something from beyond. As I stood, sensing the holiness of the moment, I felt a tear welling up from the depths of my being, wanting to emerge from my inner Self. Emerging onto my cheek in the summer sun another quickly followed as I felt a Love beyond words. This fragile portal to another world, this delicate beauty, an entrance for my visitor from beyond. I stood and wept and wondered, Suki watching me intently from below.
I’d got the message. I was not alone. I was not only ego but part of something sublime that could choose to visit through the energy illusion of form, a wild rose-bush on an English summer afternoon. The pressures of my ego world dissolved as I moved on to wander and to gaze.
That evening an almighty thunder storm hit Lincoln, bathing the parched landscape with its watery torrents. I thought of my friend, the bush.
Next day Suki and I paid a return visit. Looking slightly bedraggled, with white frail petals skirting the ground around I wondered. Had the bush lost its magic in the deluge of the forceful rain. Beckoned to a broken bloom I smelled once more; the scent of Silence remained, ready to travel inward once more to heal and to reassure. I wept again as the Voice within spoke.
‘You are more precious than this fragile rose, this flower of the field that touches you with my Love. The storms of life may come and go, but you, like this delicate messenger, cannot lose the fragrance of my Being.’
I stood and gave my friend a final look. An energy seemed to flow between us, one alien to the world of botany and scientific definition, a common bond, a rumour of glory.