From the Scrolls of Ahyeen
These writings are not stories to consume. they are moments to inhabit.
They are not lessons either. They pulse as living fields.
Read slowly. Breathe them. Let them move through you.
Nothing Else Mattered
The day was
dawning softly, with just a few clouds in the sky and the balmy warmth of
island winter. The wind had quietened down from its night out playing with the
trees, and the sun was gently starting to colour its resting place with purple
hues over pink and lightly golden shimmers, in a quite unusual good morning
palette.
To Atlanta
it felt like a whole different dimension – one she had woken to on this
particular day that had called her to step outside and enjoy its gift. The
silence was even more profound than usual. Her inner silence. Which translated
into a perfectly serene ocean, waves almost imperceptible. So serene it could
be a gigantic lake.
This inner
silence of Atlanta’s was not sound related. It was a stillness that not even
her light steps as she walked towards the sun’s spectacle, could be anything
but it. Movement was not its opposite. It arose from coherence, from Presence,
not locomotion. A prayer of joint and breath in each complete moment. Somatic
devotion, as she inhabited her walking. A truly sacred experience.
For several
days she had been experiencing this – movement emerging from stillness, where
absolutely nothing implied effort. This is perhaps why Atlanta could look
around her and admire, filled with gratitude, receive from a devotional state
of contemplation that does not seek or lack anything.
Each step
became a communion with Earth, listening to its heartbeat, feeling its
vibrancy. And so, Atlanta decided to go for a longer walk to admire further, to
enjoy more of this stillness in motion, which gave the sun the opportunity to
greet her with even more magnificent colours until it lit up land and sky like
fireworks do, you know – with that joyful grace that makes everyone smile.
There is
nothing quite like the light of daybreak – the way it kisses the landscapes
ever so gently, like a mother’s kiss on her child’s forehead saying “it is time
to rise, dear one, for a bright new day.”
As Atlanta
walked up the hill and cars passed by in a rush to get kids to school and
parents to work, she observed that no one - or mostly no one – was really
looking at the beauty around them. It was not even as if it were taken for
granted. It was just not acknowledged as something noteworthy.
And yet, to
Atlanta, it represented such abundance that she could not by any means overlook
it. Her heart was overflowing with it, completely in love.
She
realised how privileged she was, to be able to stop, to slowly breathe the day
in, to joyfully pace the hills, to be so entirely Present that nothing else
mattered in that precious moment, to not have to be anywhere, do anything. To
have all the time in the world for nothing, which in turn meant everything.
There was
no need to justify why she could now allow herself this pleasure, this gift.
What her life had been like before. What she had had to let go of, transform,
adjust, integrate, become, in order to now be able to have joyful stillness as
her only compass. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing else mattered.
Her day was
not a succession of “have to’s”. It was a moment to moment dance with what is,
now. What came next, came from this. And thus life brought Atlanta all the
peace, wonder and meaningfulness she could possibly dream of.
If
gratitude could be converted into currency, she would be a billionaire. This is
how much of it she felt.
.png)
It became
completely clear to Atlanta that it was not the people or the places that made
the difference. It was the way she perceived them, received them and cherished
them. Preciousness was self-evident. All it needed was to be acknowledged.
Ahhhh… Life
is such a special gift. What one does with it – that’s all that matters.
Atalanta
pondered what it would be like right now if she had a regular job and was still
raising her children, who were now adults, living their own independent lives,
making their own discoveries. Would she be available to receive what she was
receiving in this moment? Would she remember to stop and contemplate, even if
just for a few minutes? To take the time to look around and witness her reflection
in everything that manifested in tangible form? To remind herself to come into
her breath, into herself and to feel that eternal Presence that she truly was,
irrespective of whatever her experience in human form was at any given
instance?
Of course
she would. That’s how she had started awakening, remembering, choosing to Be
whole, in the first place! That’s what had brought Atlanta to the realisation
that all she really really wanted was freedom, never knowing what that actually
meant though. Then again, why not let go of everything? Why not accept that
change is the only constant in life? There was not one single good reason not
to embrace herself fully. Not one good reason not to BE Love so completely that
she could liberate everyone she loved from any kind of attachment, stand back
and witness the magnificent wonder of each one’s evolution, on their own terms,
in their own way, at their own pace. Just as she allowed herself hers –
unapologetically, boldly, entirely.
Atlanta
would and did stop, admire and thank, even when she had still been enmeshed in
what seemed to be impossible to change. Even when life seemed to be
overwhelming and all – or almost all – of her energy was focused on the daily
grind of making ends meet.
When she
looked back at that version of herself, she felt proud of her courage and
determination. She felt honoured to have had those experiences, including the
blessing of all of the people that had crossed her path through them. She could
clearly feel the abundance in all of it.
In fact,
Atlanta had no doubt that abundance is the nature of every single being. It is
innate. Intrinsic. The way it plays out can be sometimes dramatic, sometimes as
an abundance of lack, or limitation – nevertheless, it is always abundance. So
so much of it, it was even hard to grasp its enormity. And now she was immersed
in an abundance of joy, of love, of gratitude, of stillness, or grace, of
beauty and treasured it all the more for having known its opposite to the very
marrow of her physical bones.
She had not
run away from it. Never. Atlanta had never denied herself the intensity of
whatever form of abundance she was living. And this, perhaps, was the very key
to her current sense of wholeness. Nothing had been left out, unloved. Nothing.
Ahhhh…
blissful contentment. Nothing else mattered, here and now, yet everything was
thanked. Deeply so. There had been no waste. There is no waste! It is an
illusion of perception.
Maybe, if
more human beings could come to this realisation, from the depths of their
hearts, what is perceived to be waste in the world at large, would shift to a
different kind of economy, based on gratitude, on the knowingness that no one
is ever lacking and that nothing is ever missing.
One way or
another, Atlanta was doing her part by being this. Not because she had to. But
because she could not be any other way.
Sweet
simplicity. This is what brought her such profound peace. Knowing the job is
done whenever Presence is allowed to be the boat, the navigation tools and the
ocean itself.
And throughout
all of these musings, the sky kept on glowing with new colours, the sun kept on
lending its warmth to the seeds in the ground and the flowers kept on blooming
effortlessly. Thus is the grace of life.
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
