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.
The Ocean of All
It had been
a long time since River had felt drawn to get himself out into a crowd and
enjoy whatever that experience would provide.
Since his
awakening, River had gone through long spells of solitude, realisations,
integration, release, transformation, through all of the ups and downs that
come with expanded awareness. The inner volcanoes erupting in ways that had
sometimes seemed impossible to survive through.
He had
witnessed himself coming out of the darkest places within himself – places he
never imagined could be a part of him. He had felt the pain of being human in
so many different ways, had experienced rage, despair and sadness so deep, it
had seemed there was nothing else to live for.
River’s
Dark Night of the Soul had been a series of raging hurricanes, interspersed
with that beautiful warmth of Soul’s embrace, which gave him temporary truce,
only to find himself being ushered downstream in the tumultuous waters that
then cascade off a cliff with such force that everything falling down below
cannot but surrender.
Sometimes
along the way, he had looked back, to see if it was possible to return and
forego this whole journey of self-realisation, of embodiment of divine in human
form and just be unconscious again. Just go to sleep and live the prior
hypnotic succession of known routines. But that, River realised, was
impossible. Many times, he remembered the saying “ignorance is bliss” and now
knew it with a completely different intimacy. And yet, thinking back to the
time when he was struck by the awareness that there was more to life than just
what he had seen and known that far, he was certain that there was no way to
switch off the lights and pretend that everything was just fine the way it was.
He had
given up trying to explain what he was going through. It was pointless. While
amidst the storms, definition was unavailable. And after they had passed, it’s
as if the shift was so fundamental that the storm became meaningless anyway. It
seemed a bit like those level games, where once you have passed one level and
are immersed in another one, there is no trace of where you were before. There
was the wisdom. The memory, though faint, was still there, but it did not have
structure to it. This was the good part. And what kept him going and made him
stay present and not turn his back on himself, even when the scenery was at its
bleakest. Knowing that once it shifted, everything was different. And it never
went back. Even when he fell. It was never the same. There was always more
awareness. A different approach. A new perspective.
Throughout
all of this alchemy, River had become hypersensitive and being in public places
had sometimes felt unbearable. He could sense people’s inner turmoils, inasmuch
as he could feel his own. Lower frequencies were physically painful and the
noise of everyone’s racing thoughts was deafening. So, he had avoided places,
people and situations that produced extra discomfort, as he was already dealing
with enough of it in his own inner – and of course outer – landscape.
But now
River felt the inner calling to go out into the massive crowd that had gathered
for the summer celebrations in his town.
At first,
he was apprehensive. However, his inner guidance took priority over any human
concern and he followed it, always.
As he
approached, it felt different. There were mixed feelings. On one hand
discomfort in the pit of his stomach, on the other hand a sense of being at
ease, of feeling safe.
River
wandered around the stalls, watched the performances, chatted here and there
with acquaintances and stayed on. Until the discomfort in his stomach faded and
joy started emerging. A joy of being alive amidst life. Gratitude. And
admiration.
It was past
midnight and he was now immersed in an even larger crowd, at a live music
concert where everyone was in celebration mode. And all of a sudden it clicked.
There were
no longer others. There was just an ocean of spirit that was not separate in
each individual. The people were all unique at the same time as they were all
one same pool of divine nature. It did not matter whether some were consciously
aware of themselves as divine beings having a human experience or completely
oblivious of this. It did not matter who they were, where they came from, what
they called themselves – it was all just one wave of coherence, of unbound
love, of joyful elation, void of distortion.
River
breathed, felt, jumped, danced, sung, embraced and marvelled at this sense of
true oneness he had never been able to feel before, as he had never really let
his guard down and dived so trustingly into the midst of humanness without
fear. Or judgement. Or self-protectiveness.
He realised
that the secret to being able to be immersed in life with everyone else, was
not in seeing himself as separate, but in allowing himself to know his reality
to be one coherent whole, and thus every single expression in it was allowed.
Self-realization
was not about distancing himself from the world around him, but about coming to
complete peace with it, with the human condition, with everything – complete
acceptance. And then again, also about making his own choices, for his own
experience of his own reality.
Being able
to see the magnificence in everyone – the magnificence that lives beyond any
and all perceived limitation – brought River to tears. Tears of gratitude. With
the laughter of relief colouring his cells in a bath of blessed tears. Humble
tears of awe.
This was
the kind of thing that once experienced, cannot be erased or forgotten, but to
be able to be visited, requires complete trust, complete surrender beyond
agenda or identity.
And River
had found it in the most mundane environment. The simplest moment. An inner
invitation followed without reserve. The Ocean of All.
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