Friday, January 25, 2013

An Inkling


It is not so very often that I find myself worked into an unintended fervor, when the very scope of my being is placed into such a perspective, and the meaning of my life revealed with such clarity- but it happened tonight, and has been happening for some time now with more frequent a reoccurrence.  I don’t know how to explain it, exactly.  It’s almost as if I find myself transported for a brief time.  As if for no apparent reason at all, no provocation, my sensibilities begin to shift.  It begins with a laugh, no maybe an internal one- a smile.  It doesn’t matter whether or not the energy that preceded it was of a positive nature or injurious to my energetic consistency- in either respect I find myself increasingly aware of the intention that comes before the shift, and I find that mindfulness most invigorating and releasing.  The beauty lies in seeing either design as simple and perfect and exactly as it should be.  My aim is not to give credence to the view that every event is preordained.  In another way, my position- rather, the development of my position during this “shift”- is simply that of relaxing into a state of deep contentment.  And that is the initial phase.
Next, it’s as if my chest balloons with a great expansiveness, as if it fills with the love of all the world.  But it doesn’t create a tension.  It’s almost as if you’re bleeding out, or melting in with all this love.  The sensation is warm, it’s impressive, and it’s moving.  It comes with an understanding that within the depths of each and every one of us lies a profound rapture for all things, for ourselves, for the blade of grass that blows in the westerly winds, for the lone tree that sits atop a hill and never says a word- an admiration for every experience that lies within the spectrum of our exposure.  Compassion.  This inspiration is accompanied by visual images, a more universal receptiveness, and perhaps a considering that the slight urges driving my body forth in this time and space once propelled me in another.  And because this whole process is new, I have an inquisitive mind.  I start wondering how the whole process began, the method of it’s unfolding.  The brevity of the occurrence puzzles me, and why I cannot choose to remain in such a heavenly state.  But there is one style of feeling that endures.  Every time that I find myself immersed by such a circumstance, I know that it is no accident.  I know that with each subsequent occurrence, the one that follows will be even easier to prompt.  And then, I know that these shifts will have made such an impression on my heart that there is no going back; there is no returning.  The sway from such a love will have reached a critical point.  And while I know it will take some diligence to remain transfixed by that love, the influence of that sway will remain with me forever.
And for the sake of this journaling I’ll divulge specifics (also taking into account my declining stamina for this craft)- that is, some personal realizations I had on this day.  First is how profoundly I can read someone’s intentions.  That their mere presence alters my body in such a way that I too feel their impulses.  Not what their exact move may be, but whether or not that move is driven with a good intention- whether or not their heart is pure.  And every once in a while this sensation is joined by the representation of colors that flash before my eyes- a divine collage that only my gut knowing can interpret.  That is the best way I know how to explain it.  It is not an image; rather a story being told about that person in the form of a painting which actualizes before me.  I have always been somewhat more adeptly tuned into the minutia than anyone else I have met in my life.  I notice the small ticks, the subtle noises that a person makes, the way they hold their eyes or the rest of their body, the slight inflections of the voice, the tiny dirt speck in the corner of a floor, the trail someone leaves behind whilst moving through a room- my ability to notice the unnoticeable is an attribute I used to hold with contempt.  It used to drive me mad that I could hear and see all of these things.  I could not separate myself from them.  I was (and possibly still am) not able to view these happenings objectively.  My body actually transforms to accommodate the intentions of others and the circumstances around me.  If I see someone holding tension in their body, I too hold that tension.  But I am getting thicker skin.  And what I once used to view as obsessive or irrational is a skill that has its place in something more transcendent.  That is the first realization.
Second, and lastly for the evening, is my recognition of the universality of an urge.  And I’ll keep this brief, for it is an idea relatively premature and novel to me.  But I have an inkling that I have peered through the keyhole of time and laid my sights on lifetimes that I have lived before.  That all the likes and dislikes, and I mean to say the passions truly, have come from a life that is currently not perceived to be my own.  Each and every time I find myself pulled to feel a particular way, this too is accompanied by a visual image- an old worn out mental memory too blurry, or not vivid enough to yet make out.  But there is a perception deep within myself, a brilliant and sophisticated knowing, of an energetic conduit that has passed from one lifetime to the next and now it has found myself, here in this body, and that is all I can say.  I have just scratched the surface.  I dare say that there is still much more exploring.

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