The edge of the forest follows a row of hills in a line so straight it looks as if it has been drawn with a ruler’s perfect measure from Heaven above. Off in the distance sits something like a crumpling wad of evergreen construction paper. All I could make out of it was a vast and wild thicket of trees.
The branches shone with dullness in the sun all the way up to that point, where they disappeared into the infinite green. It seemed as though the landscape would continue like this for an eternity, or however far one was willing to go. I cannot lie, the idea excited me just as much as it did in the beginning. If this was how it was going to be, then bring it home to me.
I extinguished the negativity, stretched, and placed my eyes upon the sky. I hadn’t looked to the sky for some time. In fact, it had been awhile since my eyes rested on anything, even me.
Not a cloud was visible in the crystalline blue sky above me. A veil of fog hovered in the silent air over the wild, as often happens in the spring, like an elusive membrane waiting patiently to be infiltrated by the endless sky above. Particles of sunshine trickled down like little drops of rain, collecting itself in a puddle, going almost unnoticed on the path before me.
In the warmth of this breeze, the light, as so often before, wavered in and out. The air flowed synchronistic with leisure, like a flock of lovebirds flying between each and every tree. It skimmed the forest lined slopes along the edge, crossing the path, and passing through the groves of me without so much as ruffling a leaf.
A crow’s sharp cry cut through the gentle morning like an arrow, and disappeared over the ridge. The undulating mountainous wild ahead resembled a giant sleeping beast, cozied up with the warmth of infinity.
Suddenly I felt the sharpness of death from the pain in my feet, they were exhausted, and it was only growing worse.
Or was it?
JUST A THOUGHT
It was then I decided to give in to the voices of my own mind speaking from within, from my own depths, and one of these voices said that there was my body, in nature, and that there was also me. I was related to this nature through my body, but all of me was not contained to it. The same goes for said so-called pain. It is all just a mental illusion that I am not at all contained too.
In the mental discipline I have been practicing over the past month or so, and of which I am beginning to feel the positive effects, it is of the truth that stability and tranquility have been the practicing prerequisites in the establishment of my own peaceful thinking.
Practicing these two things day in and day out, does allow one a promising result from will alone. This will to better one’s way of thinking is a direct link which connects the dots of the soul to the world as-it-is. Through practicing this mental will, the soul frees itself from the distraction of daily routine, as it delicately tunes itself to the spiritual instrument of dreams. So please allow me a moment of fine tuning.
Thinking, the power to think and to know, is a source of freedom. Thinking makes it obvious that spirit exists. The physical body is a mere agent of the spirit and its mirror. It is both an engine and a reflection of the spirit. It is the spirit’s ingenious memorandum to itself and the spirit sees itself in my body, just as I see my own face in a looking glass. My nerves and my illusions reflect this, much like the pain in my feet as of late.
This earth, and all of its inhabitants are a literal mirror of thoughts, just as Heaven is a metaphysical mirror of love. You see, in Heaven, you don’t reflect on love, you reflect it, and the tragedy with the contemporary thought is that it has forgotten how to be a mirror.
Yes it is true, we are all divine by nature, human by habit, and magnificent with glimmers as we meander towards our ultimate destination, that being death. And the habits of thinking itself is just an embodied thought, embodied by the fact of death alone.
Death is the dark tapestry behind us that the mirror of Heaven needs in its reflection if we are to see anything through the eyes of love. Every negative perception of an object causes a certain amount of death in us, and this darkening state is born out of death’s necessity.
One will actually start to see the truth of this when one learns how to obtain the inward view of one’s self. To do this, one must get out of themself and stand far off, in the contemplation of solitude and nature of our own wild. This is the only place in which genuine reflection comes. One will then see, that death knows no mercy, and to quit worrying about every damn thing and just be.
In this life we attract the reflections of what we think. And we also attract what we judge in this life. If you worry all the time, those worries you will constantly find. If you think people are dishonest, you will attract dishonesty. If you are focused on sickness or disease, you attract more suffering. If you focus on poverty and being broke mentally, then you will gain nothing more than an endlessly empty account of the soul.
Every objective thought you hold in your consciousness becomes your cage of reality. Tune your focus upon abundance and honesty towards all, and that which you believe and see, will be. So instead try and embrace the good, embrace every little bit of love, and all the lovely and good things will come endlessly and naturally.
If there is nothing of a message in these words but some hints of egoism and its death, some illusion that my fate is being outwitted by my own self, or my own avoidance of the reality of the grave, perhaps my writing these words is not worth the trouble. This of course, waits in the remnants of what is to be seen. And maybe that alone is worth the trouble.
But before we go any further, one must bear in mind the odd angles that the rays of love, faith, and light must take in order to reach a broken soul like mine, which you will find in the words I have long left behind.
It is just as well in this different perception of light, that I now understand in part, I think. When our thoughts and their understanding wants it, divine wisdom will flow to us like the wind blows around us.
And what I mean by this, is that I have placed too much of a hidden emphasis over the years on the darkness of external things. So now, I must deviate from said darkness, and turn my attention in the light of the right direction. That being forward, towards the daunting mountain that looms lit ahead, and into the depths of the wild within me.