Read with care.
In this moment it does you no good to tell you how grateful I am. To do so would be to exemplify a peculiar, particular brand of assumed humility, to incite the ego to effrontery by conveying a sense of being blessed, thereby displacing the undue credit I feel for having initiated the current sensation I am experiencing. I am grateful, and I do feel humbled by it; I have everything I need here, in this passing place, this fleeting moment.
It is so rare that I feel this way: whether this observation is depressing or inspiring is entirely up to you, for I feel in this present moment that I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing. This experience came on as the sun set behind the canyon and we were seeking out a campsite. I will undoubtedly feel different in the morning; if all goes well it will only be diminished, and not entirely dispelled by some strange dream or unease of the bowels… it takes so little for one’s perspective to shift.
This begs the question as to why this feeling is so elusive in my life. It is a waste of energy to point fingers, to find excuses for the relative emptiness that I feel most of the time. I sense I am not alone in this, which is why I will not say that if you have not felt this way I pity you, but that if you have not experienced this, or it is a rarity in your life as it has been in mine, then I wish it for you, frequently and powerfully, with all my heart.
I do not pity anyone but myself most of the time, I have no evidence concerning others that can compare to what I have gathered about myself that so exemplifies the challenges of a fool’s life. It is a hard one, and painful to watch, for so much misery and wretchedness is created and perpetuated by an egotism whose only goal is to obstruct such a feeling as I currently possess. From such heights I may examine from a distance such folly and laugh brightly, sympathetically at such waywardness. I have experienced enough to know by now that soon I will return to the trenches, where these comic mistakes are made, whose repercussions are severely inflicted on my poor being, his caretaker so ineffectual and poorly equipped to brave the profound mysteries of existence.
But now, here and now as I write, I am far above such frivolities, consumed by a sense of balance and harmony, resplendent in the full appreciation of having somewhere, somehow, done something right. The curious thing about this is that it was accomplished by turning away from nearly everything I was told was the right way to do things.
What is right for you is not something to be decided, it is something to be discovered. This is a long and difficult process, and one which I am far from completing, but it feels damned good to have some positive feedback. My whole body feels charged, but with calmness, equanimity! My ego is weak, thereby allowing common sense and wisdom to pass more freely through my body. How ephemeral is this moment! I do not mind. I will learn from this. I will succor the lesson it offers. With luck I may even be able to carry some vestige of it with me, that I may multiply the fruits of my life and enrich the lives of others thereby. Forgive me for tarrying, my friends! We are all here for some purpose, which it is each of us ours alone to discover, and if the winds are favorable we can lend one another a hand.
All my life all I have wanted was to help myself and others. There is a sensitivity in each of us that is smothered, abused, and frequently extinguished. We need to express this, but so acute, so subtle is this flame, this light, that it must be properly kindled or it will fade and perish. The conviction of truth must be found, a separate truth for each of us, that resonates with the whole, and- if discovered- will give us the strength to manifest this resolution.
This is not a bunch of inspirational jibber-jabber, this is truth, my truth. Truth does not use force, it taps into force, allows power to flow through it, not for the individual’s ends, but as a means for the universe to express itself. What and why are not for us to fathom: it is only for us to be what we are meant to be, to uncover the instructions written upon our hearts, which have been encrusted with the noisome phlegm of culture and education. Egotism, vanity, greed, fear and loathing, violence: all of these bar the way to freedom, mask us from our cosmic duty, incite us to self-harm, which is the harm of one another.
How you do it is for you to discover. I can only implore you now, in this brief moment of lucidity, that it is of the utmost importance that you become what you were born to be.
Tomorrow I will fall anew, a Lucifer, an Adam, an Eve, and once more I must climb clear of the mire of ego and self-pity, greed, pride, envy, gluttony, lust, and fear into the higher planes, those promised to us if we strive for them.
Rise to the occasion, face the flame.
I am still where I want to be, doing what I want to be doing. Tears well up at times as I round a corner and behold another unimaginable vista, for I realize that being here in the mountains of Tajikistan, riding these rough roads along the border of Afghanistan, having ridden six months on a bicycle to get here, fulfills a childhood dream that I had long since given up on. It was one of those romantic dreams of early childhood, akin to those I had of love, discovering ancient ruins and digging up dinosaur fossils: that of high adventure. I am on an adventure of considerable scale, in a wild place. There are many such places in the world, and I am inclined as it stands at the moment to explore these as thoroughly as possible.
In my present state, which has been prolonged for some days now, I have proven to myself that my own intuition serves me far better than the insistence of others. I make many mistakes, but they are my own and I am able to accept responsibility for them. Those who introduce us into their own perception of the world often replace the concept of “right living” for that of “conventional living.” While one lives as they live, their advice is sound, but if you want to live differently, you cannot trust their advice concerning the realms outside of their experience. In so many words, you have to trust yourself and take little heed of the opinions of others when your intuition speaks strongly. I have long known this, intuitively from a young age, for children can often smell deception from a long ways off, but it is hard to be sure of. I now have real results from actively trusting myself and horizons are blossoming on every side.
Life is not a reaction, a counter-action, a rebellion. This is a blind way of living, just as following without understanding is but to live automatically. A real life is one filled with risk and adversity, as rewarding as it is difficult and in line with greater things than propriety and approval. The latter are useful social tools, of course, and their advantages are sacrificed for those who are destined to serve a greater purpose. Not everyone hears a call from afar, and blessed they may be in their own right. My spirit is restless, in need of exercise, designed to be harnessed to the yolk of the universe. Here I am. I have never felt such a strong sense of harmony and completion and I do not intend to slide back, though inevitably life knocks us down, ever and on. This I accept. I accept the universe and my instrumentality, and I will follow as best I can that which is written on my heart, whose voice pulses through my body and drives me ever on…
This morning I was moved to tears once again. My cup was spilling over, my heart glowed, my soul aflame. From my heart I could feel a string attached to every star, full of love, filled with the pain of profound joy.
What is left when one needs nothing, wants for nothing- without desire there is something immense, a vastness that fills you and all is unified.
When this vastness is stifled by desire, fear, greed, scarcity, vanity, self-consciousness, we are cut off from the greater whole.
Our egos are like glass vessels, hermetically sealed and filled with the energy of life. We are told that death alone dispels these glass orbs, dissolves this barrier and we reintegrate with the greater whole. But this orb is really only ego, and one may drop this barrier, thereby realizing that these spheres are floating in an infinite ocean of the same energy. If life is such an illusion, so is death. None of us knows what lies beyond, even though it rests within ourselves, we are made of it, exist within it. This morning I felt this with my heart of hearts.
Once more I am enclosed, but the knowledge lingers…