Page 1
As spiritual understanding moves in an ever-expanding spiral and since this article is the 6th of a series already published, for your convenience, dear Reader, I would like to think that you are reading it in the order in which it has been written.
==
“C.C., you do remember that we are looking at things
through our soul's eyes, ken? Yes?” Moriya asked without pausing. “Then,
although these things are here – now, right in front of us, the notion of
*eternity* means that everything has existed from time immemorial.”
When the
moment is karmically ripe, we become suddenly aware of the existence of certain
things, of certain thoughts and of certain symbols. Some call that a ‘ha-ha’ or
a eureka moment, but really, it is not as if these symbolic things have only
just now popped up out of nowhere. They have been there, right under our nose,
from the moment of our birth.
Burleigh
Heads - April 5 – 2008 [revised April, 2009]
The hoop pines on the esplanade, branches
turned up like fingers towards the darkened afternoon sky, sway slowly through
the sea wind.
The sounds I hear through the open windows
of this rented beachfront apartment are those of the rain pelting down; those
of the sea roaring in her pewter grey, pre-storm mode and those made by the
sluicing of car tyres seven floors below. A butcher bird, feet gripped around
the railing of the balcony, is all fluffed up. Beak lifted to the sky, she calls
out a vehement and repetitive two-tone high-pitched warble. What is this bird
saying? To whom is she calling out?
I do know that because of the black and
white of her feathers, this bird is a messenger intended to remind me that, for
what remains of this day and beyond - while my darling and I are holidaying in
this beach resort - I need to make balance a priority. Beyond this, I will never get to know what
else this little butcher bird was calling out.
Well, actually, this is not quite true.
Seven floors above the esplanade = the
elevated position of the 7th Chakra - looking from soul's eyes
A butcher bird = butcher = a person who
sells meat - to kill = the need to curb my/our lower *animalistic* desires of
the flesh
What is this bird saying? = “overcome your
base instincts.”
To whom is she calling out? = to me, of
course, as spiritual messages are always intended for the one who perceives
them. This message, like all others, will be repeated, albeit differently, more
loudly, more painfully until I find a way to act on it.
The bottom line is that while I enjoy our
long walks on the beach, a glass of chilled pinot
gris at our favorite beach cafe and contemplate the pattern of waves
rolling in,
I must also remember the priorities of one
on The Path.
Not long ago, I wrote something to
Moriya about a sunflower on our patio and how beautiful it was with its large
open face fringed by bright yellow petals.
“So much more interesting to me than a rose
all curled up on herself, even if her enduring glam status dates back to
millions of years B.C.”
“C.C., you have to be aware every
minute of every day. Yes, the sunflower is beautiful,” Moriya replied by return
mail, “but you forget the symbolism of this flower.
Keep observing to catch each of her messages. Don’t fall back
into sleep-walking mode. Take your diary with you on the vacation and write
your thoughts, your emotions and experiences.
Bring back all that you notice and we will have a look at it
together. Be awake.”
v
The big deal is that all the
messages, signs or symbols we do not see, little blind
mice
that we are, amount to so many arrows pointing to the “Yellow Brick Road” we
need to be on.
They are the emergency light
pinpoints that line the central aisle of an airplane, the ones intended to
guide us in the advent of a catastrophe.
The spiritual signs of the sort we
are going to explore in this file are as recognizable as the Nazca lines
scarred into the Pampa Colorada of Peru. Assumed to be at least 1500 years old,
they remain an enigma that can only be deconstructed from the air, which is
symbolic of the *elevated* spiritual position our soul aspires for us to reach
… one day.
v
When we are blind to the world of
messages around us, we talk about coincidences, good luck or bad luck, good
days and bad days and we scratch our head wondering why and how we have ended
up in any one particular situation. Maybe we cry,
maybe we shrug, maybe laugh but, as
sure as the moon never sets, we eventually move on and further into something akin to tunnel vision or selective
blindness.
v
We do not see for looking.
We do not SEE the many flags waved at
us and, sure enough, we soon get another opportunity to say, “What the ...” for
it is only by looking through our soul’s eyes – from an elevated position -
that we can create meaning out of our life’s landscape.
v
If the choice is between getting some
sort of understanding as to why things *happen* to us as they do - even in the
absence of total proof - or relying on holy water, crystals and tumble stones,
Feng Shui water fountains, reciting of mantras while driving to work or having
faith in our favorite talisman, pet rock, neighbourhood healer, hermit or quack
- I have made my choice.
v
Messages - in the form of signs and
symbols, names and thousands of words and images - swirl around each and every
one of us, all of the time, in our wakeful moments and in our sleep.
Because these signs are not dramatic
signs such as apparitions or strange
manifestations;
because we, as a civilization, have lost the ability to recognize them, they
remain unnoticed.
v
Our brain recognizes spectacular,
hi-glam, hi-visibility meaningful moments, but our brain simply does not
interpret the mundane and the minute signs embedded in the continuous string of moments that make up our days and our nights -
year after year after year – from birth to death. Yet, like rain drops hanging
precariously off our clothes line side by side, they are connected to each
other; they are tangible and they carry meaning.
v
It is unhelpful to