At The Cross

It was one of those days when the sun appeared to be trapped in an antiquated bottle long lost at sea.  My soul was shut up inside me.  It was a day that I rambled upon all the memories that made up my life, the happy ones mingled delicate with those that were wretched.  I felt trapped in the past while the future felt no desire to point me in any certain direction, except for what lay behind me.  It was a day that I yearned to just accept its presence for what it was worth, but for some reason I couldn’t bear being present.  It was on days like these that I wore such an indignant demeanor, wearing it so, as though I was reserving it for the main injustice that I waited so desperate for.

I have been lost in this wilderness of life since my childhood left me.  But I have meandering about, even more dizzy for the past fifteen years since I left the comforts of my home.  And today was full of that sinking feeling in my stomach that I was never going to survive through another day of this ever-creeping loneliness.  These thoughts of mine were so dangerous on a day as obscured and hazed as this one.  It was always so damned impossible to find my way out of the maze that my swollen ego creates through illusory processes.  These days when my thoughts ran so rampant with apprehension could fill the emptiest of spaces with paranoia.  And to think that I was so close to finding my way back into the comforts and warmth of Heaven that I call my beating heart.  I bend upon a knee and send my deepest thoughts to the smoky sky above me, with an unraveled hope that they echo loud, making their way crystal clear.  I try and gather what thoughts of tranquility I have left scattered throughout the landscape of my mind and I start to again trudge along this path so tantalizing.

I employ a purposeful breath here and there—this seems to set my mind at more of an ease than just moments ago.  I start to notice the colors cutting through the smoke filled scenery of summer.  These colors they flourish animated through this west coast fog, burgeoning more vivid with every extended breath I take. Colors unlike any I’ve ever seen, hues so bright and promising, knowing nothing of the drabness in all that is inert. These colors they grow on me, giving life to my steps with a hint of intimacy in my feet.

I begin to sense a fateful motion is waiting for me up farther along this path. I begin to feel a part of it all, the forest, this wilderness—I start to feel it again—a oneness with this wild that surrounds me.  I see that the path intersects with another path just up ahead.  My stride starts to get ahead of itself, taking a more abandoned approach.  My attention span had escaped me, and before I knew it, the danger of my excitement had come full circle.  I was so over-stimulated with my surroundings that the beast within me would no longer be held at bay.   But something was different as the excitement moved through the depths of my being.  His entrance wasn’t as abrasive as those times before, he was waking gentle and well rested.  These nerves of mine, as they galloped from my head to my heart, felt more collected than ever before.  There was a peculiarity in his emergence this time around.  I sensed something oddly familiar to his reality.  For the first time in maybe forever, I felt relief in his looming presence.   With my sanity hanging on by a silver thread, I speak to myself out loud.  I reckon it’s time.

Well, Well, Well.  It’s about time.  Let us first howl with this bloody moon. Then shall we ease them on in, or cut straight to the core?

You know damned well, you are going to accomplish whatever you set your aim upon.  And that isn’t the moon it’s the sun.  This whole desolate wilderness is burning all around us.  It is awfully metaphoric with all going on around us nowadays.

I have been asleep for so long, I am thirsty and a bit hungry—you have been doing quite well at staying away from the sweetened sap that keeps my spirit fed.  It’s quite the impressive stretch.  So shall we? After all that’s why I am here right? 

That’s not going to happen again my old friend.  There is a tectonic shift in momentum on the horizon, and I am going to need you in your best shape and form moving forward.  If you want to drink the nectar from the fruits of our labor and be awake for it all when it comes to fruition then we must come to agree on this, or else, we shall find another cliff.

Who have we here?  I am not sure if I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.  This deputizing demeanor it suits you.  I’ve seen it once before, albeit it was short lived. I welcome your wishes.  For my thirst and hunger are way more spiritual than detrimental.

I am merely awake. You must know that for the longest time I always thought of you as a demon that sat with an unwavering patience at the gateway of my mind.  Waiting to attack at any sign of keyless penetration.  But I’ve come to figure you out and you are the wolf in me that I am going to need to help guide me over the peaks and through the valleys of life that wait ahead.  And those demons they are coming, so I am going to need your instinctual loyalty moving forward.

I was wondering how long it would take you to come to your senses. I have always thought of you as harmonious, the yin to my yang, but neither one of us would ever give the other a chance through all of the back and forth visceral games we often play amongst each other.  Those petty little internal reflections that break all souls in half are detrimental to the life of a soul as all should know it.  

Your senses of scent and sound rise far more elevated than I am capable of.  After all it is the wilder instinctual side of you that has carried me this far in life, but my sight it rests at a height that you cannot fathom.   In order for us to bask in the light that shines upon the gardens of divinity, we must allow the duality within this soul of ours—with its polarizing opposites—a fair and honest chance at reconciliation.

And what is a garden but a metaphor for our minds, which always thinks in terms of opposites—alpha and omega, apples and oranges, good versus evil, heaven and hell, the sacred and the profane, you and I—yet when these opposing forces are held in the hand of God everything is equal.  It’s Holy in the nature of all that is whole.  So let us reconcile our differences and become one with the nature of us.  Let us find that common ground that intersects at the cross in the heart of our eternal being.  It is at this intersection where love truly lives in bliss.  For the purest love is one where all situations are seen through the eyes of harmony, instead of being picked apart by our own duality.

I couldn’t help but notice a contained enthusiasm to him—he seemed delighted to feel a true purpose. His cogs were churning swift but consistent, metaphoric of a train.  This beast within me, he is what I have needed all along?  One would guess that I have carried this sneaking suspicion in my back pocket this whole time, knowing that he just needed to be harnessed and kept on a tight leash.  After all, it has always been up to me and lest we forget it is my story.

I will fall behind now and leave you to your other devices.  But know that I am here to keep you safe from any externalities that try and misguide you, for we both know they are coming. 

I look around, realizing I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings.  It was with a startled comprehension that I find my feet to be straddling the edge of a cliff, with a sheerness that the human eye cannot fathom. How long had I been walking along the edge of this cliff?  How long had I been in my own head, no longer scared of what waits ahead?  As I come fully into my own view, another verse from the Bible conducts itself upon my train of thought.

“For the Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands.  He knows your going through this great wilderness.  These forty years the Lord your God has been with you.  You have lacked nothing.

Deuteronomy 2:7

There are many things that have been stuck away from the truth of Christ that all men must know.  And in the complete absence of these details I see a light that must be lit, awakening the truth from the silence.  The specifics of this truth are what has grabbed my full attention and only brighten the illumination just out of reach from the palm of humanity’s hand.  For if all knew these particular truths they could not help themselves but to adore the man and seek to worship every phase of his life.

But the complete story of Christ and its most important details have been withheld, due to the orthodox of certain omnipotent organizations.  For some reason they feel it better to withhold them, for the illumination and richness of every aspect through Christ’s life, would bring about a world full of faith, harmony, and the goodwill of peace, but it is the misalignment of man that would rather thrive on greed and hate, for it is with their amour-propre that only they can relate.  But now is not the time to discuss with further enlightenment upon planes of these celestial thoughts of mine.

Instead, let us discuss the verse that unraveled before my unfiltered rant and how the mysticism in its meaning just appeared with enchanted demeanor upon my eyes as I woke with the sun this morning.  The spiritual meaning written in the wilderness of this verse was enough to make me think with clarity, but the fact that the number forty has appeared in front of me is what staggers me.  I know the importance of the number forty in the Bible, for it is clandestine, as is the number seven.

Washing over me is that eternal echo again, but now I see a thread, shaping my existence, it is silver and it reaches around my heart, wrapping around my soul, digging at the roots of my being, leaving me whole.

Throughout the Bible we find so many references in both Testaments regarding those who went up a mountain for illumination or for more cozy contact with God’s Consciousness. The truth behind this matter is that going up onto a mountain for illumination is a symbolic and mystical statement, indicating no actual or physical mountain, and referring to no physical height at all.  It should be considered that going up a mountain means to raise one’s spiritual inner self to the greatest of heights where the consciousness of the Cosmic, is seen as definite and complete.  It is easy to understand this through the story of Moses in the Old Testament and the spiritual contact he made with God when upon that mountain was for the purpose of attaining spiritual illumination, as well as the development of some spiritual principle.

It is logical to see the opposite of this expression as also true.  Whenever one of the great mystics or Avatars of the past had to come to contest with the earthly, non-spiritual phases of life, while wrestling with problems that were of this world, he went into the desert or the wilderness, and not to the mountaintop.

After we understand this, we see why the first incident in the life of Christ, as concerned by objective principles and earthly trials and tribulations, took him into the desert wilderness instead of the top of a mountain.  We know from the Bible that He spent forty days and forty nights in this wilderness.  It was in this wilderness he fasted and hungered, and in further ways suffered the ailments of body and flesh.

I find it interesting that the numbers seven and forty are so recycled in mystical literature, this is because of the significance they carry.  Let us not take too much time to recall, the number of times the number seven is used in the Bible, that begins with the Creation and the number of days in a week, and the well-perceived point that the seventh day is in fact, the Holy Day.

The number forty though, it appears so many times that its significance becomes apparent, even to the most casual of Bible readers.  It is found in most all of the sacred texts written in many different lands.  The Egyptians claimed that the body was not completely freed from the soul until after forty days of preparation.  Moses abstained from bread and water for forty days and forty nights, during his cosmic contact, as was he upon that mountain for forty days and forty nights; and he was on Mount Sinai the second time for forty days and forty nights. It was prophesied that no man or beast would pass through Egypt for forty years.  Elijah was forty days and forty nights on Mount Horab, and was the same number of days and nights at Mount Carmel.  The children of Israel were in the hands of the Philistines for forty years. Saul and Solomon reigned as kings for forty years, from these facts we should find it as no surprise that Christ went into the wilderness for forty days and forty nights, to try and figure out ways to straighten out the misalignment of man

I find myself rambling about upon stones that are placed perfectly, I come to notice that the canopy of this forest I have called my life is now at arm’s length.  I see nothing but skies of blue behind me now, but there is a mountain that looms ahead.  The terrain is as pristine and immaculate as it is steep with a cragginess that seems impossible to scale but lucky for me, there is a peculiar placement of something providential for me, it is a ladder and it is golden.

What’s next? Are we finally going to do what I think we are going to do? Allow me a piece of wisdom before you continue.  It is true that we are all products of all those that we have ever loved.  That love is paramount to that which we are today, that love has built the foundations of us for what it is that awaits. But let us give our complete devotion and love to God and become a product of Him.  For that is the path that you seek, the path that leads to the Promised Land.    

As I approach the last month of my fortieth year, I find it enigmatic yet full of peace in the ways that God speaks to us, uses us, as an instrument of his will.  And you will be happy to know that your story will be told.  Albeit bound by the spine of a book. For at last the voices in my head have organized themselves with an agreement to partake upon a plan that promises a polished triumph.  My whole being applauds the idea, it shall be light, heavy, but most important of all, it shall be balanced.

And at last he became one with his enigmaOne side or the other of his nature was perfectly coherent, but both sides together were nothing short of the most intricate puzzle put together with bewildered grace.  I have long waited for this, his heart to once again beat with chivalry, while it thumps heroic—the time had come that we were to conspire amongst everything that it takes to inspire.

 Ramble

Author’s Note:

It is at the source of tragedy that the good and its law of morality are powerless to conquer evil for good.  But the moral good has a bad origin buried in the roots within the misalignment of man’s greed and envy—that origin—it follows the good in us around like a curse.  It is in my opinion that man cannot attain righteousness by following the antiquated moral works of man’s greed.  The law of morality often contradicts itself nowadays as it has since Christ was crucified, even more so in today’s society.  Man must allow the consciousness of his soul the chance at manifesting itself and from there and only there shall the works of the greater good come to fruition. After all, it is  consciousness that presupposes the misalignment of man’s duality.

If you made it this far, we thank you.


My roots are buried in the Dirty South. I grew up learning the importance of God and Southern Charm. I began writing in my late teens mostly through heartbreak and music. I moved out west 15 years ago and live right around the corner from the Fountain Of Youth. Most people refer to it as Lake Tahoe. I play Chef during the day and search for ways to save the world by night, through reading, writing, and believing. I enjoy the side of life that is less abrasive. I look forward to joining you on my quest through Spiritual Sobriety with the Promised Land as our ultimate destination.

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