VISITS INTO THE REAL REALITY Writing 4
I went through the door. Again, I didn't know why that image was there.
All was white as in a thin fog. It was pleasant. I wanted to take a deep breath and feel the coolness and purity of the moist air. I did, and when I took in 'air', I felt touched everywhere in an invigorating way, inside and outside. It was as if a force had invited itself. It seemed to connect me with everything surrounding me.
I was alone and decided to walk around. The 'fog' started to dissipate gradually and I saw more and more blue sky above and a vast green pasture-type area in front of me.
I remembered my past difficulty with turning my head to see what was behind me. It made me want to try again. So I did. There was no problem. I looked. What I saw surprised me. At first, the area seemed green like the rest but then I noticed it was a plane full of rocks, not looking too hospitable. I walked towards it anyway and had to climb over some formations, using my hands to stabilize myself. The stones were not sharp or rough, yet I did not feel like going further. I sat down on one of the boulders, wondering what this meant.
I sort of talked to the rocks and told them my concern that although they did not harm me and seemed not hostile, they did not look so accommodating as basically everything else I had encountered until now.
They gave a message back, without sound; I just got a sense of hearing them. They asked what I would like them to be.
I didn't immediately know how to answer, except that I didn't like their brownish grey color and the look of sharpness in their features.
The rocks began to change before my eyes. Their edges became rounder and looked softer. The green came back. I was utterly amazed at the change. Relieved, too.
Wisdom appeared. I asked him what all this meant. Why my sort of negative impression first and then...., "How for goodness sake do they manage to instantly change?"
"First of all," he said, "do you remember you had a remnant of fear in you in regard to what might be behind your back? Well, the environment responded to that. Or rather, you perceived them that way, somewhat negative. May I refer to what is written in your 'Writings', that we create our own world?"
I protested. "I didn't create their negative appearance. They were that way."
"That may be so, but you had that reaction. Perhaps unbeknownst to your conscious part you were fearful you would see something unpleasant. So, you saw just that. Let me tell you that nothing here can become 'evil', ugly or threatening. It is an unknown quality in any structure here. What you saw, the grayness and impression of sharpness, was as far as they can go in not showing their happy self. But more importantly, accommodating to your fear was an act of respect for you."
I felt like stroking the rock on which I sat, and I did. I meant it as a way of saying, 'sorry'. I sensed they responded to me because touching them gave me a wonderful uplifting feeling. I saw that now their surface was covered with hundreds of minuscule flowers in all sorts of colors.
I asked Wisdom if the rocks and now these flowers really react to what happens in their environment. How did they know my feelings? How can those flowers suddenly pop up?
He said not to think in terms of my human way of 'knowing'. They have on their level an awareness of what goes on and what approaches them. When they noticed my negative vibrations, they hid their true self, so to speak. Now, they can show off again.
"But what do they do," I asked, "when there is nobody around to please or interact with?"
He answered that things in nature do not function as humans do. Each of them clearly is a different manifestation of I AM. Yet they are connected with the center of life as much as we are. Their different composition, place and purpose in life do not lead to things we do as humans. So, in that sense, they are not understandable for us. But all units and appearances in nature have a full and fulfilling life and operate from a happy center. On their level, in their way, they are as busy representing I AM as the human race does."
I complained that this was cerebral information for which I did not come here.
He seemed taken aback. "But you want to observe what we here are doing with our life, don't you? They show you, the rocks. They are involved in being beautiful, useful, accountable and they contribute to praising I AM. They even accommodate to a person like you by reacting honestly to what you brought in as unreal. Believe me, they keep the dance of life going, together and by themselves, no less than we humans do."
I felt corrected and feebly said that still I didn't understand how they fill their time productively.
Wisdom dryly commented, "Would just being there do? Or making love with I AM? Or with the flowers? Don't you have a saying, 'Improve the world and start with yourself'? They do. Everything does. And take 'improve' as meaning perfecting the perfection."
I interrupted him, "How do you know that saying? You haven't been on earth!"
"Granddaddy knows!" he teased, but he did not elaborate.
Instead he said, "Think about it that it is up to you as to what world you create. So it is for every particle and unit. Nothing is determined. All is based on choices. Therefore, their world is 'the' world even while they are aware of a universe out there. And isn't that so for you? You operate as a particular universe's unit as if the world circles around you. This correct sense of being the center originates in the fact that everything mirrors I AM's being the ultimate center. Closeness to Her/Him makes this transparent. Representing the truth always does. It makes all that is in existence family, and all that occurs unique.
You must notice the self-assurance in the people you meet here, from Achmed to the big crowds. They have a glow of happiness and satisfaction about them. It does not come from what they do or have achieved. It flows from what they are, from the fact 'that' they are. And so it is with stones, flowers, air: with everything, every second."
I still had fifteen minutes of my walk ahead of me. Achmed being mentioned gave me the feeling I would like to go and see him. After all, he had invited me.
I said so and Wisdom asked if I wanted him to come with me.
I wondered about that, but said, "No." It crossed my mind that I considered Achmed the most 'normal' person I had met thus far; more on my level than Wisdom.
Achmed welcomed me warmly. Gave me a hug. His wife came out from somewhere and did the same. She again looked radiant and beautiful. She was wearing a perfume that bedazzled me. I commented on it.
"I make it myself," she said.
I must have looked incredulous, because she took me by the arm and said, "Come, I'll show you my garden where the ingredients come from."
(Immediately, my alarm bells went off: garden, plants, cutting off leaves, squeezing, fermenting, it is all too earthly. Plus, it hints at the political incorrectness of the 'strong' abusing the weak and defenseless ones for their pleasure.)
We went to what looked like a large nursery, rows of green plant-like forms that reminded me of artichokes opening up. I expected her to dig one out and show it me, roots and all. She did indeed scoop one up, gently, with two hands and smelled it. But it had no roots! She held the 'plant' as we do a little kitten. She had me smell it.
I like the smell of good perfumes but have no idea why; or why one more than another. The fragrance of this plant almost knocked me over. My overwhelming reaction was to have it poured over me, have me get drunk with it, bathe in it. It made me delirious.
She ignored my reaction and calmly explained that she didn't have to water or fertilize the 'plants'. They know exactly what to retrieve from the soil. She showed that they just rested on the ground.
"They have something going on, those two, the soil and these," she laughed. "Plants are happy creatures. I have these here because we are experimenting with a new fragrance."
I protested, "You don't mean you and the plants, do you? You are not partners. They are completely dependent on you, on what you do to them!"
She seemed lost for a moment.
Then said, "But we do it together! They like to participate. Don't ask me how they communicate among each other. That, you better ask Wisdom. But the plants and I know each other as friends; we know what we both want."
"But where do they come from?"
"There are whole stretches of land full of them. When I go there, some seem to be waiting to get involved with me. How do I know that?" She simply said, "I just feel it."
I asked if there are plants just grown for human consumption.
"You ate fruit here, didn't you?"
"Yes" I said, "and after I ate it, it was gone, fffttt, disappeared."
She seemed confused again, looked at me and said, "Nothing disappears. And better forget what eating means on earth. A piece of fruit or a plant merges with us when we take it in. It is ready for a change. It wants to. It is a gift both ways. We know when we are both ready for sharing ourselves. Evidently."
I felt a bit of a jerk for questioning her. Even if I grasp almost nothing here, it still seems so self-evident and logical. And so absolutely impossible!