Glynis journeyed through the forest of hearts and bones, her own and those of others.
The openings were visible, or became visible, from time to time, and she slept in and out of the living active season of consciousness by feeling and living in the hearts of those she could find a way with. To find a way in, to connect and understand, to take on some of the burden, and to return to herself enriched from the awareness of yet another point of you, another world really.
For each person was not ever actually a separate individual or entity, but a continuous flow of energy and life forces configuring and reconfiguring in constant active interplay. Glynis had found a way in – it was a sort of love, a delicate probing, a sense of soul minglingThat produced a union. This wasn’t necessarily felt by the other, and wasn’t necessarily known by Glynis until her ideas, dreams, emotions began responding with the aftermath, an alternate awareness.
Unlike so many who were afraid of this process, she welcomed it, sought out those who could allow it and learned the lessons of human nature. Just like glyptics, to cut the stone the jeweller needs to intimately know the properties of a precious jewel stone. In its raw state, the beauty may not be so visible. By going inside the stone an accomplished jeweller can find the facets that will be cut to reveal the most light. It is a form of civilization of the heart.
The scenarios that play out on the outer side of life are all routed here. Mythically connected, the stories replay down through the generations of history’s corridors, and echo through the hearts and minds of the people of all eras.
These mythic troops and archetypal forces help join us to our core being, and they get our hearts to a safe harbor. They open us collectively to a shared self, even for a moment. Riding together on the same storyline, we leave our individual selves at the door, as if we’d hung them on hooks in the cloak room before entering the larger room. We get used to being in a connection– one that doesn’t reinforce ego.
It’s more daring/difficult/Interesting/wild to take the step outside the socially sanctioned collective connection, and venture alone in the vessel of the soul in search of another soul’s harbour, another fellow voyageur, another unknown land. For this connection sails past the ends of the earth and into the variables of the human heart. That is the Sufi way. It takes us beyond limited ego self and into the wild forest territories of the others.
And the attraction of this way can be a profound intoxication. We die into one another or we die trying. It is not the surrender any of us imagined. And it requires the utmost subtlety and flexibility of the soul’s acrobatics to both feel and not feel, to be and not be, to love and not love, to share — beyond all identifiers and identities — a telepathy as a heart which leads directly to the union of souls. In such annihilation, in the crushing of the heart and emergence of the soul, God flashes through us, creating.
Glynis knew this, and yet she learned it time and time again. She wasn’t an archetype, she was a real person. But which person and when? She began to look more closely and ask the question, “Who am I?”
Was she a child who scratched her name on the path or was that just one of many iterations of her dreaming self? Maybe she was a many-faceted jewel, or was she the light that passed through what she thought was her? Or was she all of it, contemplating itself?
That seemed so abstract and nameless, empty of even light refracted from a star already dead but pulsing light years away from an earth that relatively had no time coordinates to anchor the rotation. Light day and dark night rotate in eternal binary patterning as bodies and beings bloom and fade in seasonal order of birth, death and rebirth, echoing, spiralling, circling the sun in dark space.
There were no words for these understandings, so she had to discover the language of the soul, connect with all via the soul vehicle, then receive and decode the impressions, to learn and grow.