To love beauty is to see light.
A walk in the woods, a hike and wander on the mountain ranges and alpine pastures, descending into the larch forest, where a few beech saplings grew here and there, and the eyes opened from within made me see the reality of nature, one day. It was all natural and it required me a change of heart and mind opened as the world.
Fall came and the woodlands exploded with colours, leaves like blazing flames gave life to the forest whereas it should have reduced it to the silent wintry last breath before the plunge into hibernation. Mother Nature draws and paints with firecolours. The giver and taker of life is fire.
Everything was fire that day. I climbed and hiked in the mountains to seek another photography lesson in light and truth and in light and truth was I rewarded.
I’ve always started not knowing where to look but just look everywhere I felt the inner need to. The trees, the path through the forest, perhaps a small bird chirping and have caught my attention so that I immediately strife my head to search for it, up there, in the canopies.
Autumn is a slow dance, you know. I feel like it whispers of a breeze of cold calming and taming the wild within. On the outside, the wildernesses start to quiet down till utter silence. I can only hear the hiss in my own ears. A friend once told me that this is the sound of all my living cells working within my physical organism. I hear it most of the time, especially when there is silence outside my ears.
So I looked to the trees, knowing they will show me something interesting, and I have seen a blaze of firecolour in the woods. Light made it all happen, to stand out from the chaos of the forest. And it was lit as such. It bursted, I have seen. It was alive and dancing statically! It was a still dance, so to say. There is dynamism in standstill.
I have never perceived anything like this but differently for my inner eyes and mind were not truly opened. And I was surprised. But to keep the tension even more, I also saw the entire forest like a fire. They were all made of fire and I understood. They weren’t burnt but they were burning. As I said, life is fire, but also fire is life. Fire is alive.
The painting of the world, of the nature I was contemplating began to showcase their mystery wide open. The veil was off for me. The more I was surprised, the more they showed me.
After a few moments that were literally hours of ascending on the tops, I reached the alpine meadows. I should have mentioned I wasn’t alone in this trek, though not really relevant. I was hiking with some friends of mine. It seemed as a nice, ordinary leisure outing for us, but for me it was a trancendental strike of my soul chords. My conscience was receiving some nurture of high vibration. This is happening very often to me, for some time now, when I’m out in nature. I am not a chosen one, I know it, but it gives me such soul food I cannot forget.
We wandered and contemplated the getting out of the forest onto the alpine pastures. The weather was nice with a clear blue sky, with a few clouds here and there, and sunlight was all around us.
After half an hour or so we stopped to have a picnic on the high ranges. I noticed that a raven was up on a tree top just a few tens of metres above us, perhaps waiting for something to catch after we’re done eating. It was quite nice that the raven was expecting something, somehow from us. Perhaps some meat. This was a sign for me to look even further. I sure love the larches of the small forest right next to us. They were very yellow and contrasting the places. Their brushes stood tall including in the distance in colour opposition with the beeches of the ranges and hillocks beyond.
It beckoned to me to go and explore. I went there and the places were breathtaking. The woodland floor, a yellow and orange, the tree trunks and brushes, a faded and pale light blue, the small saplings of beech, like fire blazes of red and orange. It was a spectacle bathed in fire.
Fire renews everything, it is said. I saw the larch forest near the mountain ranges with their trunks covered in moss and lichens as if their were turned to ash. Their canopies and tree tops still bearing the yellow of their narrow leaves, while the lower part of the woods were mingled with young beeches with reddish brown leaves.
Closeness is flame and distance is smoke. The lifeblood of trees is the sap that flows upwardly. It is like a circulating system. Their brain is their roots dug deep into the profoundness of the earth, reminding the origins. Mind is matter crystallized like a frozen dream.
I sometimes want to know what mammals and birds feel. Or what do they think? They do not speak articulately. Or maybe we think so. The way they behave I, yet, do not understand. Some of their mimicry, yes, like a body language. I have attached myself to the language of speak, of uttered words unbeknownst to me would be the symphony of vowels and consonants. I feel the need to transcend it to simplify my mind. I get to complicate myself in the details.
Up on the ranges, on the alpine meadows, a large vista was uncovered. The lands resembled huge fires and the valleys like large flames dancing to the naked eye.
I climbed back to my friends. They were still enjoying the picnic. I was done eating before them. I needed a different kind of nourishment. And looking on the other side brought me these questions to you, the reader of these thoughts I have: do you know why fire emits light? Is light the fire within fire? Is fire light, or light fire?
I could not see the bulbs that emit such light that I could perceive. One thing is to perceive and another thing is to see. I noticed I seldom see. I am mostly blind while looking although I perceive. I yearn to clearly see. I have begun doing so but I don’t fully grasp. I am still in the what. Silence will bring me to the how and then to nothing. I, there, stop translating. I think that when I reach the how, I will begin to understand archetypes.
And then it struck me. What if I was to die right then and there? I would see myself struck down on the field, on the pasture. Lifeless. Motionless. Time would consume me and the earth with its children. Too, the raven above my head looking down on me. The worms, the beettles, the mycellia, or the other birds, perhaps some mammals would have a go at my body. The weather would erode me and I would be one with the earth. Slowly. Piece by piece I would stop being physical. It is a letting go of the fire within my body to be, to live, to dance, to trigger itself to manifestation. And then nothing. Where would I be? Such terrible encounter!
Back to life, to the revelation of the landscape.
I returned to the larches, to search again. The canopies and the tree tops of the larch forest with background spruce and beech ranges like smoke in the woods. I caught a glimpse of the fires they mean to tell me. They burn because they are burn, they are flame, they are fire.
Another question arose in my mind: how do we live if everything is fire? If everything is just resembling fire but does not burn us? What are we made of? Why can’t we burn without getting burned? Or are we? They’re questions with no return to sender. Every image I saw, just as the landscape was changing while I was looking, made me want to know the world. It was curious to me how, now, it presented itself to me as such. What a dressing, what a veil! Was I ignorant so far? Was I ignoring it by now? What about winter? Where is, there, the fire? Is it frozen?
Dreams are fabrics of a loom. We make it because we learned to make it. We are dressed with the loom. We are commanding, without realising, our outside image, the body, to be like this, to behave as such stirring from wihin. What I see in the mirror is my own making. Or is it so?
Plants, trees, flowers do have brains and communicate. They have a nervous system through their roots, trunks and branches. They resemble the nervous system and they feel. It is like a network, like a loom of universal micropower.
Although I have never seen a plant move by itself, only in documentaries, what with the timelapse technology and all, I feel their entire way to be, the way they present themselves to us is movement. And neverending too.
The colours that day.. I saw everything painted in firecolours. They all worn splendours in the sun. It was an atmosphere of light and colour.
Going back to the dense larch woods and looking at the contrasting blue and green of the trunks and the young beeches with their red firecoloured leaflets lit by the sunrays seldomly brushing these woods.
The wind was blowing mildly. I detached myself from the (friendly) picnic I had with my friends. I was after another kind of food.
A wrestlessness from within me started to climb to my mind like a crawler wanting to reach me. I felt like dozing a bit, so I sat on a rock in the larch forest. I left my friends be and honoured the call from within. I sought silence so I could see. Then, I lay down on the ground of the forest. I waited with my eyes closed. And lo and behold! The moment I closed my eyes the whole forest was burning. There was an atmosphere of perpetual fire and the forest was thriving. It was as if its nature was fire and indeed it was. Everything was evergrowing. Such abundance!
So, I saw a world that gave birth to the beloved world we live in, where we tend to forget and go by the dreams of being human, or the dreams of wanting to be somebody. I saw, finally, creatures with wings, with beautiful gowns dressed for the gala somewhere in the woods, creatures without apparent wings crawling, with green eyes, red eyes, blue eyes, with eyes of all hues of the rainbow, looking at me and inspecting me. I was like a stranger to them immersed into such dimension as their own. A primordial form of human type being like a curiosity to them, still, they were glad I was there. Perhaps the fact that I reached that light indicated them that I am worthy to be there, somehow.
And one of them, comming to me, although I wasn’t scared but joyful to see such natural, elemental child, moved its lips uttering something to me. Perhaps it was trying to tell me something, give me a message so I can remember and take with me to my world. But I intuit and I understood I was welcomed. Then, the child told me something in a language so old as the world. I felt it this way and I asked what does it tell me. What do I need to know and bring with me?
It took my hand and stood upright. It nodded its head to follow it. Where were we about to go? I found out later.
With dazzling speed we flew, we floated in the firy atmosphere so warm and tender, caressing my within I felt happy. I felt like a child and this feeling made me drift away a little. The fire child taking me stopped in place and looked at me, grabbed me from my shoulders and shook me to wake up and nodded again so I follow. And so I did and we took off again. It is a good lesson to learn, to be awake no matter how beautiful the world is. I have no reason to drift away in the sleep of my own unconsciousness. Just as the sage says: “The morning breeze has secrets to tell you. Do not go back to sleep.” It’s time to learn.
We flew and floated, and browsed the forest until we reached an opening, a meadow of some sort. It was a place of worship. I saw pillars of old with ancient signs on them, monoliths they were. Energy was all around in that wreath, in that roundabout, and in the center of it, another opening within. And we finally stopped before the chasm there was in the middle of all. It was a source of all elements of nature. I saw fire, water, earth and air burst into one: life. Flowing and evergrowing! I was blessed to see such vortex of origins sprung from the depths.
Around them, matriarch fairies were dancing in circles holding their hands and enchanting in a language quite unknown to me, though it sounded familiar as if it was an old tongue all humanity was speaking before the great floods that separated us from the inner worlds. Some of them were showing me their secrets, the forms they were handling so energy was everywhere and in plenty for all. It was like a perpetuum mobile feeding all and moulding all. They showed signs, utter secret words of power and the world was continuously born and born again. But what I felt was joy, a sort of gladness only a child could feel. Give happiness and prosperity to all, I said to myself and transmitted to them. I’m sure they listened, for one of them was acknowledging gladly to me nodding head in my direction. It was a way to be so the world can thrive and thrive again. And they giggled and burst in joy, shrugging their shoulders like babies tickled.
And then I heard screams, yells, churtles and all types of loud voices muttering and uttering whatever. I felt awe and distress. They came from below. I knew then and there that emotion is power. It is the grinding of old souls sacrificing for the benefit of the world. They felt like fire to me and their emotions like firecolours. But on the other hand, when they are drained from above to below, they become weakness, negative powers go back to their roots within the entrails of the earth. I, then, felt that nothing is for free, to be taken for granted. Everything must be paid in this world.
The vortex of space created was like a void within a void, a space within a space, a spiral of abstract and concrete sightings, a time within a time. I finally understood the fabrication of time and space like a mingled bakery of the Universe. In this vortex I saw souls dancing as if were on a merry-go-round.
The song was of joy and grief, at the same time, ever mingled within the pads of long-lasting thought processes and mind waves. The duality I heard filled my heart from underneath to within and without. So I understood that ascension is inevitable to all beings. What a knowledge! I intuit it a long time ago, but so see it and hear it now in action, is something else alltogether.
The Matriarch, then, gave me a sign to follow Her. And so I did. She, then, pointed me to the horizon. Due to the spectacle of Nature I witnessed, my perceptions and understanding mind received something I’ve seen only in my dreams. Or was I dreaming?
And they were dancing, and dancing, and enjoying the dance. It was as if fire was singing and dancing, jiving and making impromptus and intermezzos, loud and low, high and slow, mellow and quick, staccato and scherzo. Sounds like a carnival or fanfare of joy and love. I was assisting from above the rim of the chasm.
The entities wer approaching me gently touching my face as if they were inviting me to join the dance. I cannot fly, I said to them and continue to watch their show.
The energy and the music I intuit was in a constant crescendo and I realised it was an evolution of time and space, with the actors that we were, are and will be in the scenario of the world. I also noticed the continuation of the flux down below and high above. The vortex was receiving and sending, sending and receiving a flux of energy to sustain the whole environment I was seeing to the horizon line and beyond.
The horizon was filled with the spectrum of colours of the world. They were energies, as it seemed, giving rise to mountains, hills, trees, bushes and grasses, but not to human mind, not to conscience. That is an entire story alltogether. I saw ground falling and forming sees and oceans with the help of the flowing of rivers and creeks. I saw underwater volcanos and horns on the the face of the earth spewing fire, steam and lava. But I saw life again after their disaster struck the habitats formed.
The Matriarch took me by the hand, again, and we went flying around the world surrounding the planet. It showed me time as the movement of space. It was fire in there as well. Whether it was natural or manmade, or psychological, the fires of the humans within, it was fire, still.
I saw earth and water again, and I saw cities and villages, I saw bridges, and the traffic. I also saw people rushing in to go shopping, I saw political movements all over the place. I saw turmoil and struggles in the streets. But I noticed nobody was looking at me watching them. They were asleep.
Was I too? I rememebered I was dozing in the forest, I layed down and fell asleep. And I awoke to a different kind of living, a more real one.
It’s really disconforting to have visions of the world when one is not really in it. I’m more like a passenger, in it and out of it. I have nothing to do with it and yet, I live in it. I don’t revolve around the world and the world does not revolve around me.
Don’t blame me! I have nothing to do with it! I merely am a spec of dust in the sky. I contribute but I do not make the world!
This is where it clicked with me, I was connected. I suddenly saw wires in my head, in my heart, all over me. I was plugged in. Whatever I though, felt, spoke and did was affecting the whole world’s electromagnetic fields. Everything life is was affected by the likes of me. Every small move could disturb the balance of what is.
I didn’t mean it, and I started to cry, like a baby. It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know. But the law of cause and effect doesn’t warn us of the consequences. It just shows. And I felt fire again. It was the comming and going of the world.
I then entered the apartment where I saw disorder. Outside it was dark, though some police syrens were heard in the distance, here and there. I wanted to start doing some cleaning, because it was a mess, I’m tellin’ ya! And the stench! I have to open the window, I told myself.
Then I saw the full moon. It surprised me and struck some chords. Where was I? No one was answering. Do I have to do everything myself, like answering my own questions? And I remembered: “you have all the answers within you, don’t you remember?” It came like a voice within. But I looked around, it was a tall white short-bearder man looking at me hoping for some reply. I was dumbstruck! I didn’t expect someone like him sneaking up on me, with such response. He was right on time.
With his hands behind his back, looking at me, told some secrets to me as if straight to the heart, without moving his lips. He asked me to stop complaining, whining, as if I was a spoiled child and make my own life and build my own place in this world. I am a man, now.
We all have a place in the vortex of life. That is not given, for it is a lot of space in the world for everyone, but made, built, created and sustained. I was at a turning point. He knew that I was struggling to understand where I was to go in life and what was I to do. It’s all in the fire of life, which is light.
The clouds outside where of a thick, dense texture. Everything was apocalyptic. The city was in decay and everything was a mess. How did he know I was looking? How did I get to this place, anyway? Everything changed.
I, then, saw a light. Like a beam, like a ray. It came from far away and it was pointed upwards. The sounds in the distance were similar to those in the forest, at the chasm and the vortex. Loud childlike noises and screams as if in a ritual. I needed to go there, I saw it wasn’t very far.
„You’re still here?” I asked him. „I need to go there, I don’t know why, yet. Will you go with me?” And we got out of the building, down the stairs and into the streets quickly. We, then, found a car parked as if it was waiting for me. It was pretty abandoned, dirty and full of dust. I checked it out and broke the windows to the driver and opened the door. Got in and opened the passenger’s so the Old Man could get in, and so he did. I then jump-started the car and looked in the rearview. Then, I heard police syrens behind us. Immediately, saw two police cars coming at us. „Quick! Step on it!” he said. I throttled the car like fire and went away. But they were following us.
The chase was really intense, on the streets and we managed to leave the city. The car we took was pretty fast and ready for this kind of thing, I guess, though I never expected it. „What was that? What do they wanted from us, or maybe from you? I didn’t do anything, or at least that’s what I remember.” I said to Him. „They knew you were a runner and you took this car. What would you expect?” And what He said was reminding me I was surveilled carefully. I was in it. The Matrix, the System. Laws were strick there. „Still, this car was there for me to take and we needed to go. You felt it too, didn’t you?” He noded his head in confirmation. „But they’re after you not only for this. You disobey and your fire and light attracts them like moths. You need to be careful and stop drawing attention to yourself. They’re not your friends. They can put you away and shut that light off your face, in your eyes. The System eats people like you because it needs sustenance. They’re not only brainhunters, but also lightmongers. They need to continue. And so do you. So keep fighting or stay away from them. On the streets, out in the open, or in the underground, in the shadows, to protect your light. You choose.” I thanked the Old Man for his advice. I know too, that in this day and age you either go at the System, fullfrontedly, or behind it, unbeknownst. „In the end, the future has no rules.” He added. I looked at Him in surprise and He looked at me too. He was serious. I understood that the System is man-made, and so the rules.
Of course, one needs some guidelines in life, but not rules or measurements. You need not to cross the line and commit and perpetrate crimes, that’s for sure, but ethical guidelines are not rules but ways to keep us from hurting each other and the nature around us, so we can live beautifully and consciously, to fulfillment.
Outside the city, sunlight was slowly coming back to the land, clouds were dispersed till it was all clear. No sign of police or any of the System’s agents following us in the rearview. We were peacefully cruising on the highway having the stream of ligh in front of us.
After a while we were getting close and we were at the edge of the forest. The colours were the same: like fire, red, orange, pink, violet, all the warm shades of red and yellow.
We stopped the car, got out and went straight into the forest to search for the source of the light. I, then, saw an opening and the light was coming from there. We continued and She was there, the Matriarch was waiting for us. She was tall, beautiful, dressed in white with lots of garments and sylvan decorations on Her dress, and welcomed us. The Old Man got in front of me and went to Her first. They both looked at me and He took Her by the hand. „We are you!” They said together.
The stream of light was, then, slowly embracing them and they fused with one another and became One. Man and Woman. As if He was part of Her and She was part of Him. One Being. And from that light, gradually, the forest took shape. It was all too familiar to me, I was coming back to where I came from, to that forest I went in to create my dream, to sleep on it, to become one with it so I could understand the origin of fire and light, and of life.
Suddenly I heard my friends were calling me from above the hill. I got up and went to them, they weren’t too far away. „Where were you? Come! Fog is coming! I think we need to descent, otherwise we would barely see the trail in the forest.” One of them told me and there we went, back to our town in the valley. The trips was almost over but continued in my mind. And down the trail I saw a silhouette of a being, man or woman, I couldn’t tell, as if was following me. And the fog was slowly descending behind us on the path as if it was closing the curtains of autumn to usher in the silence of the winter.