From an Upper Floor

One Pilgrim’s Journey

In my early years on this pilgrim’s journey,   I would awaken and think through the night’s lessons and get my marching orders for the day.   They were equally important.  One morning though the conclusion was that it truly was a world without end.  But world without end has a magnitude about it that I am now understanding.   I have long said that we go to where we belong;  earned the right to be where the patterns of our days prepared us.  It truly is a universe of no retire.   If gravity and its inhabitants have worn us to a frazzle,  there will be rest,  but there is the new address awaiting.

These worlds do exist.  In this particular world only five senses are used to inhabit it.   But there are other aspects of Being which are not yet ours.   Some people have extra senses that piggy backed on the ones most of us inherit.  There are no skipped grades in any world.  What is ours to do may be different than what the next person has to do,  but there is graduation for all of us.  No need to worry about early exits either.   What is not learned once will be given other chances.  It behooves all of us to learn what we must wherever we are.   The next time may not be as agreeable nor as conducive to easy learning as this Earth is.  And we are held accountable.

Some of us are obsessed with questions others do not give thought to.   They come with faith in their carpetbag.   Faith of necessity is blind otherwise it would not be faith.   Questions would only complicate an already complicated life for some souls.  Whatever framework we have chosen for this world grants us what is necessary to work life through.  But within each rises the question which will turn the individual to the opening of the treasure chest within.   He/She has the key to open it.  And it is the word ‘why?’   That word,’why?’ either starts or closes the journey.

We have our camouflage systems worked out beautifully.   We construct our walls in the mind and do not allow anything disturbing to enter.  Occasionally a crack will appear and we will scurry for the emotional plaster or caulking to seal it.  The one who can no longer pretend the pieces fit the puzzle will begin the process of discovery and his/her journey begins.   They will hear ‘you have to be crazy to do this to yourself’  but they are crazy like a fox.

The roar you hear will be the heaven’s rejoicing that they have ‘a live one’  down there!   Let it be you.

In a square inch of soil we were told you will find all the history pertinent to your time and all you need to know in this world concerning all you need to know.   We laughed at the old Teacher and labeled him The Jockey because he was on our backs all the time.  We may have laughed but I for one was out in the hot sun for hours.  As the years took me,  I often thought of the old Teacher and what he tried to teach.  He was an influence in my life in every segment teaching.

How could such a statement have any meaning in this day of technology and economic problems?  How could studying a square inch of soil put me in touch with my roots, with my humanity,  with my self?  I knew my classmates gave more thought to this than they were ready to admit.

Hours spent on hands and knees looking at the lifted square inch wondering how it would answer the questions harbored.  I stared at it and saw nothing but cut off roots.   But on further study  ants appeared with root hairs snaking through.  Questions formed and I wondered out loud if perhaps in Egypt was the same composition?  At some Oasis?   Or was the grass just our hybrid, but might grow elsewhere with root transplanted along with what it was fed,  somewhat like a belief system?  Certain foods,  rituals and customs practiced and honored?

Was this the soil of my childhood and my ancestors?  What were the practices and procedures then?  Transplanted would their grasses grow where I was rooted.?  Would I have difficulty being transplanted with new roots and customs?  One question fed another.   And soon with thoughts of more root systems dusk was near with a chill in the air.   I replaced the soil as we had been taught and looked to the night with a new moon arising.

I was very young then but I continued the practice of going out to the fields.  With insatiable curiosity that the Jockey had instilled,  I was  learning new life forms and rituals  which were not only interesting but necessary if peace was to be a fact.  This kernel of knowledge fed not only me but my children also.    When curiosity about the outside world exploded in their lives,  fields became our private yards and weeds noticed and their history unearthed.   Their possibilities were endlessly discussed and often ended up as table decoration.

This led to the study of June bugs and fireflies and how many were needed in a mason jar to read by?  Seeds were planted,  grasses sown and nurtured.  Big and little dippers were sought nightly and moon phases studied.

Root systems, cultures, ancestry all with histories uncovered.   Leading toward philosophies studied,  literature dissected with humanity’s progress followed through baseball statistics, and runners still carrying the message to Garcia.

We pick up smooth stones to find our names on them.  They too have life in slow vibration for ears attuned to them.   Climate changes are our concern with glaciers melting where they should not,  rubber trees no longer grow and some species of birds no longer fly.  The world is our classroom and those unborn our concern.

It is said that when the student is ready the Teacher appears. It is often when we need that one the most to change our lives forever.    My hope is for everyone to have the Jockey who will give that pertinent point to start the journey from even one square inch of soil.   To awaken the questing mind that keeps the curious mind alive.   I was fortunate to have a Teacher who considered his life’s work sacred.   And when I see a child with a scoop of soil and studying it carefully,  I know that child has been truly gifted.

Art by Claudia Hallissey

The underlying factor in these universes is that there is an ethically divine purpose to do good.  We have to because we are born to.  Which is why we clean our doorstep and sweep our sidewalks.  Even if those sidewalks are dirt.  Why we wash our clothes and wash our bodies, even if the wash tub is a creek or a river or a bucket.   We look out for our neighbors and love each other because we are brothers.   We ask to be born because we want to make a difference that counts.

We were told that whatever is loosed on earth is also loosed in heaven and we are the reflection of what is loosed in heaven.  In metaphysical, (meaning physical and cosmic) language and circles, we learn as above so below.

It is to be remembered that the underlying principle of these worlds, of these universes,  the overwhelming ethical premise underlying all worlds is to do good.  No matter the world or planets, it simply Is.  Every thought, every action,  must, must be pulled through our hearts.   The habits of our days shape us into who and what we are.   When our name is called we go to the world our actions and thoughts have prepared us for.   It has ever been thus.

There will be those waiting for us and they will pull us across as we shout,  c’est moi,  it is I.   Will the song of our days be a beautiful song?   Our melody will linger long so let us not be afraid and work in harmony.