Tuesday 30 December 2014

An Awareness of Timelessness

          And so we approach the end of the year 2014, a year that ends a few days after a solstice, winter or summer being dependent upon the hemisphere in which one lives. This is not the only way to define the end of the year, of course, but it is the way to which I am accustomed. I find this time of the year a relaxing period, not one in which I choose to become involved in high activity. With half a nod to my animal forebears on the evolutionary tree of life, I feel a desire to hibernate physically, but at the same time keeping my mind awake. I feel a desire to write, yet do not have any grand topic in mind. In fact I would just like to walk and talk awhile with my readers, without becoming involved in deep intellectual debate. It would not seem to be mete for the season.
          When I first began Gwynt, which seems to be a time fast becoming lost in the past, yet was only in the spring of 2013, I felt a need to have a great deal of material held in reserve so that a subject on which to write was always available. I could never, at that time, have countenanced the situation in which I now find myself, and that is writing without any clear idea of what I wish to say. Thus for me, writing has taken on something of an act of faith in something bigger than myself. If I do not wish to become involved in deep intellectual debate, neither do I particularly wish to reminisce unless that activity has a bearing on the present.
          So what can I say of the present in which I find myself? Oddly, I no longer feel as if I am getting older. Obviously certain changes are taking place, imperceptibly; certain bits and pieces are not functioning as well as once they did, with certain bits requiring replacement. Yet all this repair work seems to be taking place in something approaching a timeless now. Even my left shoulder tendon, which has given me such pain in the past, has now reached a point of comfortable living-with-ness. But there is more than just the physical aspect of life to enjoy, or perhaps to contend with. There is a spiritual side that exists almost like a ghostly presence beyond my physical experiences.
          That other side is impossible to describe. Although it has about it a ghostly nature, it also has a sense of being more real and less illusory than my physical form. My physical universe just happens to be more immediate. Yet to describe this duality of beingness as being two different but interconnected states does not adequately convey my feeling, my perception, of this state. It is more like a sense of movement from one to the other, from the physical to the spiritual, a gradual dimming of one and the brightening of the other, as if I am changing, as well as re-ordering my inner priorities. It seems to be a slow process of becoming whilst at the same time happening in an eternal present. Therein lies the paradox of which I am becoming aware. Maybe that is what lies at the root of evolution, although I cannot see how that might be working through me at present.
          It has been said that each of us must pass through various stages or initiations in our inner lives. There would appear to be no escaping that journey, if those who appear to know more about these matters than I are correct. What happens if that journey is not entered into in this life I do not know. What I do know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, is that I have passed through the experience, the truth, of a spiritual awakening, and appear to be living that experience constantly, and in many different ways. What comes next, or perhaps what is already present but which needs to be brought into consciousness, is still a mystery.  
          We have walked a short way together, and I am still full of wonder and questions. Indeed there are times when I feel that to sit back and simply wonder may be the real name of the game. That state may be the more conducive to the glimpsing of the high realms ahead than any other activity of which I am aware. Some may call that state, contemplation. I call it truly living.
          In closing, may I wish you all, wherever you are, whatever your circumstances, the very best that is available, now and throughout the coming year. And if your year ends at some other point on the western calendar, I wish you the best for the remainder of your year.

16 comments:

  1. Sometimes I am puzzled that we do not start life and live all of our physical life fully aware of the totality of existence. Yet finding that other and eternal part on your own and by your own unique path is truly a gift. Certainly, finding fellow travellers on that path has been a gift beyond price.
    All the best to you too Tom!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hullo Halle; That was quick off the mark. It is this loss of awareness that is the root of many of my questions also. And one must be careful not to jump to conclusions when one knows so little. On the other hand, if we knew all the answers a lot of the fun would go out of life.

      Yes, fellow travellers are a gift beyond price. Thank you for being a part of that experience.

      Delete
  2. I too wish to say thank you, dear fellow traveller, for sharing your thoughts and experiences so profoundly on this blog. Finding words does not seem to be a problem for you as it is for me. You mention the state of wonder which is something I cannot easily describe so I resort to images.

    Tom, I wish you continued gifts of wonder and words in the coming year, and all the best of good health and happiness!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Marja-leena. May there always be light to illuminate your path, and grass to soften your tread. I look forward to a new year of images from you.

      Delete
  3. And my thanks and very best wishes for the New Year to you too, Tom. Never forget to be amazed!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Natalie; Thank you for this, and for your friendship.

      Delete
  4. "..if we knew all the answers a lot of the fun would go out of life." Oh, wouldn't it, indeed, Tom. Your search and your travels are a constant source of wonder, awe and fun for me. May satori be a part of your future. And in the mundane . . happy new year to you and the Luce!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bruce; I'm glad you gain so much from my writing. One tries! And from 'the Luce' and me, many thanks for your new year wish.

      Delete
  5. Hi Tom
    Down under we will welcome the New Year in soon, by having a few drinks under the southern cross , with a handful of friends, in the shadows of the many giant hypnotic eucalypts which grow in profusion in their tranquil peaceful bush land setting …………what more could you ask ?
    For me the childhood mystical memories of a dreamy imagined world’s returns in slightly different forms of wonderment as I age. But I can recall vividly the summer louver windows in my bedroom shimmering in the pale light at Christmas and rattling to the sounds of either wind or a rain squall, to join the night orchestra underpinned by the incessant buzz of cicadas or the more strident cry of - “mopoke !, mowpoke !" of the mopoke owl before finally drifting off into sleep.
    Best wishes

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lindsay; Such memories so eloquently, beautifully recalled. This comment was a joy to read. And if you should hear the sound of a smile passing over your gathering, it will only be another friend not able to be with you in body, but certainly in spirit.

      Delete
  6. This was a most welcome and heartwarming piece to read this evening, Tom. I'm grateful for your generosity in sharing your journey with us, one I'm far too reserved (and unsure of) to attempt myself. Your graciousness and equanimity shine through all your writing.

    May peace and spiritual prosperity be yours in the New Year and ever after.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh Susan; There is always that about your comments that makes me want to give you all I can. I am so happy that you and others enjoy what I am able to offer. Should I ever wonder whether I am doing the right thing in putting my thoughts into the ether, I will remember this comment.

      Delete
  7. a happy new year, filled to the brim with magic and joy and comfort and all the spiritual discoveries you care to dig for, dear tom and lucy!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hullo Agnieszka; Always a joy, and a mild sense of relief I think, to hear from you and to read your comments. I suddenly had an image of digging down into deep, loamy soil for hidden treasures, watched by a smiling handful of friends. There is magic in life; long may we enjoy its gifts.

      Delete
  8. If you find the answer to the journey I hope you will share it with us, Tom. I still travel the Way in a sense of wonder and bewilderment. Like you, I find this time of the year one in which I semi-hibernate (or is it the "winter blues"?)
    Wordsworth came close to the answer to it all in his "Ode on the Intimations of Immortality" - the longer we live, the further we travel from the knowledge we brought with us.

    My very best wishes for your imminent eye op. The world will be brighter thereafter!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Avus; Lovely to hear from you and hope your health is improving. Wonder and bewilderment seem to be strange bedfellows, but they are certainly my experience of the Way. I doubt that there is an answer to the journey, except that it is one we need to travel. But whatever transpires, so long as there is something to say, I will endeavour to say it.

      Thank you for your best wishes re the eye op.

      Delete