The morning greeted me like a friendly companion who, for some time, had been up and about, while I tossed and turned in a dreamy half-state of consciousness. I was waiting at this empty high-school for a Driver's Ed car to steal me away, drive around in a repetative state for some time, then drop me back right where I started from. It was the usual, the norm, the every-Saturday-morning routine. This joy ride, though, was an hour and a half away. With nothing to do, I took my books and wandered onto the hillside lawn that the school stretched itself over. The wind had a bite of cold in it, but the day was so magnificently beautiful that I could not remain within the old, grainy prison of societal preparation. Indeed it was such a lowly thing, compared to the natural grandeur of the cloudless blue sky, the sun of infinite warmth and light, and the small birds that carried themselves and their songs with the wind. The trees seemed to wordlessly whisper this wisdom through their physical presence, reaching up and out towards the light, intertwining with Earth in some unspoken mystery of truth. How could people overlook such a sight, such an experience? I asked that to myself as a few people walked down the sidewalk below, drove down the street and turned around the endless corners, blocks and pavements laid down - perhaps equally as infinite as the blue skies that expanded beyond the comprehension of my natural senses. I had a hunch that our tiny game of pretend was flimsier than a deck of cards. What I saw before me was something far greater than our own tiny physical manifestations, the infantile creation that we had built rapidly throughout the blink of mother nature's eye. I crossed over perhaps unnaturally green grass and stepped up into a gazebo that was shrouded in a circle of trimmed shrubbery. Sitting down in the sunlight, I flipped through the chapters of a book I had been reading: Breaking Open the Head. Ah, yes, right to the part about his encounter with the leprechauns. After reading that chapter and subsequent ones (The book has one of those 'hooked' affects on me), something in the air compelled me to look up. In that moment, my senses seemed to focus. An awareness had come over me like none had before. Suddenly, everything felt alive. Before I had caught the glimpse of this beauty, but now I was experiencing it on a whole other level. I felt in touch with everything. The first new level of communication began with a plant, a bush that right in front of me. My eyes looked at it. It did not move, save the rustling of the wind, and it did not 'reveal' anything either, save the beauty of the sun's glaze over its shiny leaves. Despite the lack of physical manifestation, it did speak to me. At first I wondered if I had just went crazy? The book had gotten to my head? No, this was not insanity. I felt an overwhelming certainty that what I was experiencing was a sort of awakening - and the energy around me manifested as entities and forces, seemed to welcome me. The first to 'speak' to me was this bush. What it expressed to me I cannot possibly say in words. It made me feel as if I could weep happily. I felt the exchange of energy, of soundless, wordless, unspoken communication between us. Going beyond that, it felt as if I were a part of this being, and this being was a part of a whole. We were performing some sacred act of life, of an equilibrium, of oneness yet separation - yet I knew this differentiation was a short lived dream. The energy seemed to ask me to look up, and so I did. A single bird flew from the budding tree branches, glided through the air above me, over the gazebo and disappeared into the distance. Beautiful. Again, the force guided my site to the grass, rooted and dancing as the wind wove through it like some dynamic quilt of life. I hopped over the railing and followed this sightless path. "Seaford High School" the large sign said. I took a look over it, feeling as if I needed to see something. Nothing but a patch of dirt and planted seasonal flowers were to be seen. I began to go around to the back of the sign, and, as if compelled by a childhood curiousity to explore, stepped up on the white concrete foundation that the sign was held up by. I was now hidden from the roads and cars and people and town, in a secret place, shrouded by a few tall pine trees. I was led towards one end, and looked out towards the sun. I understood then what I was supposed to see. Before me was a moment once again almost inconceivably beautiful. The sun glimmered across the pine needles, the branches shook gently, shimmering the magical light across this myriad of blue, green, and brightness. My spirit was lifted to new heights, my mind breaking down its walls in instantaneous speed. I felt the life of the plant, the consciousness and energy of it. I felt the life of everything. With a smile, I returned to the gazebo, and after some time I returned to my book. Since this day I have had a feeling that it was a lesson given to me, to allow me to wake up, to grow, to understand. I also feel as if it was a calling. To what? I cannot say. But I felt I should share this experience with you. Perhaps there is something to be learned from its memory as well.
There once was a tree in the middle of Earth's great forest. The middle was not at either end of the world, nor east nor west. It simply was where it was. Of all the other trees, its roots reached the furthest into the fertile bed of dirt and soil, tapping into the ground's well springs. Its trunk was massive and welcoming. It provided shade for the creatures below, and its branches reached up and out beyond all trees. After a long turn of days, man was born, and in his travels he stumbled upon this great tree. Man was not yet asleep. He lived and breathed with the forest as one, and so understood the tree was a symbol of life. His children played on its branches, danced in its shade during the rain, and slept nearby, being careful not to destory the delicate balance. Soon the word was spread of this wonderful tree, its truth and wisdom reached to all the lands of the world - like its branches. Its meaning and purity rooted deeply in man's actions, like its roots. All was one, and would be, even as the tree grew ancient. In life and death, the eternal meaning encompassed all things, even man, stretched its arms towards the ethereal sun of life
I have become a recluse. Now, I am of the world of both thought and experience. I stand by my own side within the forests, my eyes and my spiralling thoughts are my only companion here, as I gaze over the ethereal streams of conscious energy before me. The waves of light shining through the blades of grass, the patches of leaves stretching over me in one shade induced blanket of life: This is my existence. I have nothing more to say, for words tie me down in a false knot of being. My sadness is my own expression. It is my own choice. I do not yet understand myself to the point of transcending suffering - if there is such a point in this genetic state of imagination? I do not know. I try not to know anymore. I try not to try anymore, sometimes, yet other times I strive to be. I strive to paint the world just enough to clear my own path. I can clear the forest just enough to meander my own way and live pleasantly. I was amongst the Green Nation today, and their world is breathtaking. I walked amongst them and we spoke without words. I smiled to them and they simply 'were', without having to be. I told them I had to leave, and they responded soundlessly: "Leave where? There is no coming or going." To which I replied, "This is true, but the games of man will destroy me if I do not join them - on the surface, at least." I closed the door and stepped into my home, into the World of Man once more. Its thoughts, like a juggernaut, came flooding back to me.
