I’m a fairly intelligent person and I know how the world works. You start with A and get yourself to B, whether that’s an easy task or something that requires great effort and creativity. After that, it’s on to C. Etcetera.
Or … maybe I’m wrong. Life just might present us with stuff that doesn’t make any sense, that’s bereft of logic, often just plain weird. Could it be that these moments are immense windows into another way of being?
I’m looking back at jolts, discontinuities, strangeness. One happened a couple of days ago, when I was doing a Mutual Awakening practice with someone online. I can’t even remember who that someone was, which is a bit of a jolt in itself. In these practices, images often bubble up. I’ve let go of figuring out where they come from. This time, I saw a man looking at me with his eyes closed. I could tell they were about to open. Instead of the eyelids rising to reveal the eyes, they came down from the top. When the eyes were fully visible, the lids didn’t stop at the bottom. They continued down his cheeks, gradually showing an iridescent turquoise interior. It was shining and it was huge. Seeing into the man’s eyes, I realized that he was me.
My lips tightened. My head tilted. And I was transported to another place. I knew almost immediately that I would talk to you about this mystery that takes the breath away. Here it is Sunday and I’m talking. It doesn’t matter how you react to this. It’s clear to me that this break in normal reality needs to be communicated.
I’m thinking back to a vacation that Jody and I had in the Dominican Republic. The dining room was close by a lovely pond bordered with tropical colours. Long-legged pinkish birds walked in the shallows, seeking a fish buffet. After a minute of watching the birds tense into their pouncing, I noticed their legs. My mouth opened and I stared. Their legs bent the other way … folding backwards. What ever happened to A, B, C and D?
Last night, I went to a BeeGees tribute concert in London. Towards the end, many of us were moving and grooving on the dance floor that was the narrow space between Row A and the stage. One young man danced like … I don’t know what. His fingers were jabbing in time to his neck moving back and forth, sort of like a chicken but not really. More staring from me.
When the breaks in reality flood me, I get disoriented, wavery, hanging not so loose in some in-between space. The questions explode in my head: “Where am I? What is this place? How come I don’t recognize any landmarks?”
This is all okay
Just embrace the fog