I come to the end of the day, taking a few moments before bedtime to align with my Self. I find the quiet in me, sit in this stillness, and drop into my center, returning to the place of my origins, and the source of this odd life on the planet. Strangely, it appears to be an alien world, a lush jungle where vines embrace tress creating a cloak of leaves that hang limply all around and shiver sensuously in the breeze, blending into the multi-hued greens of this wild wonderland. Bird calls echo off the trees, and shafts of light pour in through the tiny open pockets in the tree tops, hinting at a separate world outside this cloistered haven. This is my meeting ground, the place where I come to train in the energetic arts with the hidden masters.
Another excerpt from my daily writing practice. For similar entries, click the "Daily Intent" tag below. Also scroll down to see a video recital of this entry.
They do not show themselves to me, whispering instead of things to come, and things to take back to my world. They tell me it is all happening now, in dreamtime, played out in reverie and rapture, and leaving traces only the observant will see in the everyday world. The familiar signs, used by countless generations, are rarely seen in the modern world. Go to the seashore now, and you will not find the shells of former life because the world has been picked over, claimed and captured, stripped of its gifts by those who were given stewardship of the earth and instead, claimed it all by right as if we have no one or no thing to which we must answer.
They say, “Be not among them. Walk in their midst, but hold quick to the vines of this hidden jungle. Bear your Self graciously. Be a living prayer. You will do more for the world as the heartbeat of life than the advocate lost causes. Your time has come. Drop your shell on the shore and become the ocean."
Where do you go when you retreat into yourself?
Do you have "hidden masters" that teach you?
© Nick LeForce
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