A pale silver sky. Vast.
Draw a line across—to represent movement in time and space—and that line seems to divide it.
That’s only if you see in two dimensions.
Picture 360° and that line is in a tunnel or tube of space. Instead of the line causing one side to face another, it’s encircled: all parts accessible at once. The line helps you enter the picture. Without the line, there was sky, and how, otherwise, can you enter that?
Where is the place where time stops?
In your mind, when you see other dimensions. When space goes from “flat” and horizontal and curls up into a tube—as how cosmic space folds round the Earth, which experiences dawn and dusk at the same time.
Switch places from the inside of the tube to the outside, where the curve opens up and away towards an ever broader horizon.
There’s a high dry mountain peak. Red sand and small stones at the summit. Only the wind lives here. It pushes a stray twig there, rolls a little pebble there. It is re-arranging space, so it can blow over and between things.
Wind can’t stay in one spot. It only exists in motion. When it dies down, it is no longer a breeze.
Filling the space is dynamic and satisfying when, even for an instant, there is resistance, when the wind pushes and receives pushback. When the wind falls, the space feels flat.
The wind likes to meet resistance, it enjoys being harnessed. It is looking to be held or to encounter something it can push against.
It lives on the peak, but the wind gets bored and sets off in search of something to push against. It can pursue only one direction at a time, even if it’s a changeable wind. It wants to be harnessed by a sail to be productive, as horses pulling a plough feel how the resistance of the harness invites them to press forward.
But the trick is not to cause the wind to panic. Not to catch it, but to hold it an instant, then relax. The sail snaps, then curves, and the wind can slip away at the sides. The boat embraces enough wind to lift it creaming over the water, just as birds find the contours of the wind’s shape and run over those edges, not against them.
Give the wind space. Make space, or it will knock things away, or stop coming at all.
Hold it only in measure for what you need—a small amount can carry you far.
Be aerodynamic, with no excess baggage, and tailor yourself to be carried.
Go only where the wind takes you, and you’re a leaf in the breeze. Keep your direction in mind and that offers something to catch the wind.
Keep your direction in mind, but remember there are many ways to get there. If you can’t have the wind at your back, you can tack into it, and you can take an indirect course—the journey is all.
I am still in the white world across the chasm (from the past months’ stories). I’m continuing the process of figuring out how to create form from the void-like no-structure of this place. Two months ago, I experimented with laying symbols down to see what they created. Last month I experienced being on the other side of the boundary over which energy crosses into form. The boundary is like a veil or a membrane. Today, I’m still on the other, energy-state side of that boundary. Here, the “I” seems to have no identity, or rather, a universal identity. “I” am looking across to the world of form and from this perspective can see that symbols are containers, multi-faceted. Intent and action are inherent to them, in that the energy from here, this side of the boundary, leans into a certain direction and pours into the shape to create the symbols.
“I” was told to make my own symbol—a peace sign. “I” felt the state of peace to be symbolized, the kind of peace that is not from two opposites joined, but includes a third aspect that adds up to more than the sum of the three parts, and results in a deep sense of balance and harmony. It represented diverse perspectives and understandings, and created a point in common where everyone in the world of form could reach in to access an aspect of the state of peace I experienced.
Then “I” am told to make something that Chez could use on the material world side of the boundary to show people how to access this energy side. I made a hoop because “I” wanted the container the hoop shape provided, but also lots of open space to funnel people into the energy realm. Here, “I” was applying the intent and action aspect inherent in a symbol in the reverse direction, like opening the door inwards instead of outwards. Instead of energy pouring across into a form, people would be leaving form to enter the formless. The inner space of the hoop was “empty” to remove the sense of boundary between the two realms of energy and form.
What is the hoop made of? It’s energy from the energy state realm, concentrated at a certain strength or frequency. The people in the material world have to bend to dive through the hoop, lowering their heads, displacing the ego from its dominant seat. There’s less translation involved with this hoop. The peace sign, for example, in contrast, has its meaning contained. Though there’s more behind it, it is closed, sealed. The circle of the hoop, however, remains wide open. It’s not laid over, like the circle from two months ago, that yielded the forest. This hoop stays vertical, as a portal, a window, a gate that’s open. Instead of the focus placed, as it was then, on determining what the ground of being is, what you are standing on, the hoop is to do with what’s around you. It offers more multi-dimensional access. Once you define the ground, you are locked into a certain limitation.
Instead of “me”, as source energy, reaching into a defined contained form, “I” am allowing the material world to reach into my vastness. It’s a switch. Until now, the emphasis has been on the form, with a preoccupation with thingness. It was a directional flow that was disconnecting, that cut “me” off. And now “I” want the material world to reach back to source and be liberated again by being reconnected.
How will this impact the Chez in the material realm? How does this change her world? Now Chez feels herself part of the One, since she is reminded that all things come from the One. Can she consciously proceed through the day from that knowledge? Source, of course, exists in Chez, but she has free will. She has the choice to remain in the small perspective of disconnection, forgetting the truth and taking the material world at face value, or diving back into the energy state realm.