During the course of a restful day, I found
myself remembering a specific period of time in my past, and I felt that there
were things there that needed greater clarity.
I settled down to write
about what had happened when suddenly I was given a vision in my mind’s eye. I
was looking ahead, but before me on the ground I saw a line of books laid out
like a series of stepping stones leading into the future. In a flash I understood what it was I was
seeing. Each one of those books had helped me in the past. They had been as ‘stepping
stones’ in my thinking leading me onward, stage by stage and little by little, to where I now was.
I realized that
I needed to acknowledge the part they had played in my life, and to be thankful
for them. Though these books were now gone, I no longer had them, they had been
as vital components creating the pathway by which I had travelled in my
understanding to where I now was.
Books are each one
precious, and to be treasured. Books can take us so far, they can open up a whole
new world for us, and we need to assimilate what it is they have for us, and
then move on; while at the same time being thankful for them and for how they were used to guide us throughout our lives.
The day was
glorious. Something unique and beautiful was in this day; I sensed it within as
I woke up. Later, there was joy all through me, and so strong it seemed I was being
lifted up on tiptoes my feet hardly touching the ground! But there was no
reason for it that I could fathom; especially since this was a very difficult
time in my life.
It was about a
year past the beginning of the long period of having no books but one. We were living
at that time on a farm in central Northland, near Twin Bridges. As I say, the books
were gone, and I was bereft of all human helpers and teachers; both live ones
and written ones; I was spiritually totally alone: I belonged nowhere, and to
nothing.
Finding a
shoulder bag to carry my one remaining volume in and a towel to sit on I set
off determined to enjoy the sunny afternoon. After leaving the large homestead
there would be just three fences to cross before the river. I soon crossed the last
fence, bordering a lovely wildflower filled meadow and the river about thirty
feet below it, and pushed my way through the trees and bushes till I found the track
down to the river. It was very steep. Hanging on to slender trunks and coarse
grasses I slithered my way down the slope, till the last part just before one
had to jump down it. Here I paused beside a young manuka on a level bit of
track, and looked around.
This particular
spot by the river was very beautiful and the children and I came here often.
The river widened here into a shallow pool overshadowed by dangling willow
branches. The riverbank on the other side was high and steep, too; and beyond
it was a wattle tree plantation.
The countryside
all around was tranquil. There were no houses nearby. It was simply a private
piece of paradise. In fact, the whole five hundred acres of this bull and sheep
farm was a paradise for us; and the sense of being privileged to live here
never left me. In my mind it resembled a park or the grounds of some English
stately home: there were large trees scattered here and there in the midst of
the meadows; and clusters and pockets of them in little dells. It made me homesick
for England so very far away and unobtainable.
The whole farm
was bordered by this meandering river, on one edge of it, and by a dark pine
forest high up on the skyline on the other. And in amongst the rolling fields, nestled
in the folds of the hills was a small lake, from which a stream flowed. It ran down
past the homestead where it became its water supply.
I grabbed hold tighter to the trunk of the
sapling where I stood, surveying the beauty, and looking down at the river. ‘A
water supply…,’ I thought. This was my quandary; my pain. I felt as if I had
lost an inner supply of it, with the taking away of all my books. They had been
as ‘the water of life’ to me; and I
didn’t know how I would find my way, without any more of such books. While I
loved living on this stunningly beautiful farm it had recently been a place of
trauma for me and fear; but although I didn’t know it yet, this was all a part
of the plan and I was at the beginning of a new era in my life; one where LIFE
began where I moved out beyond the things I knew.
Letting go the
skinny manuka I jumped down the last bit of the track. After landing awkwardly I
picked myself up and walked along the riverbank a few metres, through the willows
to the miniature beach. I spread my towel amongst the papyrus grasses at the
edge of it, and took my book out also, and put it open, on a rock beside me.
I was sitting
in an area of sunshine; enjoying the warmth of the sun on my arms and legs. A
patchwork of dappled light was filtering through the branches overhead, dancing
on the sandy shore and the river. Through the branches peeped the distant sky
looking crystal blue; a place to see through for a squillion miles. I gazed
upward awhile; my heart’s questioning, rising; involuntary coming to the fore,
as a splinter will from out of septic flesh. …One’s specific purpose and gifted
work in this world, could it be understood and guided by intuition alone? Or,
had I been wrong, and I needed those books? Was I foolish to have given away,
all that predigested fodder, my once precious books all infused with the best
of humankind’s interpretations of the best religious knowledge? Was I insane? Was
I crazy to give up all this? Had I let go too much? In a sudden dip of energy I
felt destitute . . . lost.
The sunshine melted
away, and I was in shade now where I sat. I looked down at the parched grass
between the papyrus, and at the coarse sand and pebbles on the little beach at
my feet. Though the sun no longer shone on it, it was still all alive, and full
of life how could I doubt it!
An ant crawled
slowly over my hand. I shook it gently off and watched it scurry away. It, too,
was intent on its business of living. First it went one way then the other;
turning back on itself several times. I continued to watch it as it went to and
fro through the grass. For few moments it stopped completely before a small stone.
A mountain for an ant, I thought! Then it was as though it knew exactly what to
do, and took off! It sped up and away over the stone, and it was gone. I
blinked. I paused.
It was guided
innately, within itself, I mused; all it needed was within it; it needed
nothing else. All of a sudden, I caught what it was I was thinking! Suddenly, it
all seemed so very obvious! Then all real
knowing came in the twinkling! In the touch of light, as light as a feather;
and as fleet as an ant.
I
was answered! Light burst within, and rose up in a bubble of joy. How clear it
was now! Vision and purpose, so integral to every living thing was in every living thing! Life, in full
measure was happening all around; Love, holding all the atoms together: so Life and Love was fully in me too . . . nothing
missing!
I looked up
through the bit of blue above me, the informing sky; the realm of ‘sequined
dresses;’ firsthand experiences were the
‘books’ to learn from, and all the help I needed, I realized! Wrestled with
within, through surrender and love, understood there and learned from, through the
‘stepping backwards process,’ and all assayed and assimilated, by the mind of
the spirit: here was the source and crucible of all the living wisdom and
knowledge one needed to know!
The small
collection of books that I’d had, had been good, excellent; on that particular level
of understanding that they were on they could not be faulted; they’d encouraged
me greatly for many years. But, like little six-year-old Anna, I’d already ‘got’
the message, so didn’t need it regurgitated any more in the same dimension. How
could you ever go any farther that way? And move beyond what you knew, to what
you didn’t know? Always there was more! But, as I say, it isn’t easy; nothing
worth having is!
I didn’t realize,
until too late, that the more one kept on reading the same sort of thing that one was accustomed with, the more it began to undo all the good it had previously done. It
subtly made one stop thinking for oneself: confining thought to one plane: crippling
the stretching of our understanding and imagination, so necessary for vision
and openness to go farther on in our inner-life. It had all wound me up in static
convoluted way of thinking, creating a mental spiral which had got tighter and
tighter, until I finally broke down and became very ill. …But, as always, LIFE
begins at the point where we put ourselves out and give up our own way! Pain is
not bad. Pain is good. Without it we would never grow up!
‘The ant…!’ I
spoke aloud; I remembered the ant. First
it went one way…then the other! …Turning back on itself…several times! That
is the process of LIFE! That’s just how LIFE is!
A little bird sped by, a
welcome swallow. It made me look up. Through an opening in the willow branches
overhead I glimpsed a hawk, or a falcon gliding high up in the bright azure sky.
Simultaneously, a picture of another bird of prey came to mind: an eagle. Suddenly
I remembered something I had learned about budding new eagles on the brink of
life, and smiled. When it was time to leave the nest the mother eagle threw her
babies out of it! They had no option but to learn to fly, or perish! It was her method of teaching her young! It was drastic,
but it worked! Instantly enthused, as I took it in, realizing where I was,
spiritually, a burst of joy and energy rose up inside me. I was flying!
All at once I felt a gust of wind. My one Book,
lying open on the rock at my side, shook, and seemed to come to life. The thin pages
began to flip over and over in quick succession. I held my breath! Caught in a
sense of timelessness, I observed the pages turning by themselves in the wind,
and I was thrilled at the sight! Then just as quickly as the wind had come it
suddenly ceased. The pages stopped turning and I breathed again. But for a few moments,
I was still and waiting; and then I saw what it meant!
I had read it for so long the Book was all in
me, and in all of me: its work done! Now its human interpreters and
commentators were in the past; ‘turned over’ by something greater than any human
power; and understood beyond any intellectual ability to do so: being surpassed
by LIFE alone: alone all sufficient to teach and illumine me. Just as it had
been for me in the beginning of my life,
I could rely on the Wind of the Spirit to work ‘the turning of the pages;’ after
all, it was his own Book!
But what of the darkness I
was in; my path was like none other; terrible in the eyes of my acquaintances;
worse still in my own eyes. Everything I could do to work out my life by myself
had been taken from me. Everything about my path was incomprehensible; I could
not figure it out; it made no sense.
I stood up. I walked to the edge of the river
before me, looking out and around at all the beauty of this hidden place. I saw
how the light shone into the pool shimmering over the smooth stones just a few
feet below the surface, their colours enhanced by it and made more alive. I saw
the willows dip in their long yellowing leaves, and how the fallen ones once
freed flowed with the river on its journey to the sea. Wind and water, stones
and willows: all symbols of that which was greater that had given them their
being.
Something made me turn my head. I looked back
towards the rock near where I had been sitting. And as my gaze fell upon the
open Book, I suddenly wondered where it was that the pages had stopped turning?
I went over and picked it up, and read. ‘…I
will destroy and devour at once. I will make waste mountains and hills, and dry
up all their herbs; and I will make the rivers islands, and I will dry up the
pools. And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them
in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and
crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them.’
Isaiah
42: 14-16
I went and sat down
on the towel again, the Book open on my lap. Birds were singing. The sunshine
had returned. And I was warmed, all through my being. How true it all was, I
thought. My knowledge ‘mountains and
hills,’ that I had thought so important to understand, had been proven to
be no longer of any use: the ‘herbs,’
the insightful things which had grown upon them, had now shrivelled up for me,
and died! My internal ‘rivers,’ they had
been cut off: they didn’t flow anywhere that was LIFE! They had become as
ineffectual as ‘islands:’ islands didn’t
go anywhere! All my ‘pools’ of
comfort were dried up. The way I had been living it had all ‘turned to
custard!’
I read on. …But it wasn’t a disaster! It was
only that my way was being turned upside down! Suddenly I understood. I was
going to be led in a new way! On a new path! A path in which I ‘knew not’ but going on it I would know!
A way in which one made progress not by knowing, but by not-knowing! Head
knowledge surpassed by Spirit knowledge! Now, being made as though I were ‘blind,’ I would be led on a path I
hadn’t known existed! My ‘darkness’ would
be my light: my ‘not-knowing-ness’ the
vehicle to take me onwards: there being space in me to go there, because I didn’t
fill it up by saying ‘I know!’ …Oh, but being
turned upside down and back-to-front, this would all seem ‘crooked’ to me! Yes, of course, so that I couldn’t judge that I
was right, and get trapped in my own self-righteousness: and be truly blind!
What’s more, all this was meant to be!! All I
had gone through, it had been ‘done unto’
me that I might not be forsaken! It had been the best possible thing that
could ever have happened!! I was filled
with joy. The ‘destroying’ and the ‘devouring:’ the dark jolt and the
invigorating insight: both were a life-giving consuming; and both at the same
time! Our light being made dark: the dark made Light; turned around, we could
see!
I saw it all now as universal truth; it was marvellous!
The old had past, the new had come! I laughed. I was free! It was all ridiculous
and just plain crazy! But in the twinkling of an eye I had been turned around one
hundred and eighty degrees, and made incredibly happy!
I looked up and out across the shallow river.
Shafts of hazy light, light made visible by the particles in the air were streaming
down. Fingerlings of the sun were illumining the willows on the other riverbank.
Shades of their dark and light and beauty and truth were being met and matched;
kissed by love flowing through the energizing light.
I heard a small
sound, a tiny plop, and saw a series of concentric circles on the water . . . ripples
from a small brown trout as it leapt to catch an unsuspecting fly near the
surface of the river. …I suddenly thought of Jonah, inside the belly of the great
fish; ‘destroyed and devoured:’ consumed in order to be given what he really
needed! I watched the silver ripples until they faded away and the water was
still again . . . understanding just a little bit more . . . and thankful for
what I had read.
For all of us, the small but ever expanding circles
of influence rippling through our lives could carry Life! They could lift our new wisdom and understanding – free of knowledge
barriers – and from there become part of a whole new insightful generation initiating
new things to raise up new BOOKS
. . . living pages the Wind blew through . . . to take us even farther; and ever
onwards and upwards!
*
No comments:
Post a Comment