Part Two
The Enemy
“Welcome back, friend. What shall we
discover this occasion?”
I could not see my Guide, I could not see
anything, but knew he was close.
“What could I possibly discover when so
much must still be realized?”
“This is your world. Identify it and
interpret it and you will discover many novel things.”
“…”
“It is not that you don’t know where to
begin, it is that you cannot decide.”
“How do I decide? How do I make the right
decision?”
“You must follow your heart, it has brought
you this far.”
“My heart?”
“It is your navigator, your guide – you
trust your guide don’t you?”
“I trust you.”
“Then you trust your heart, friend. You
must only learn to listen to it when it speaks.”
“I do not know its language.”
“Of course you do!” he chuckled, “Albeit,
it is not the language we use to communicate – it is a Universal one anyone can
understand, if we only listen. Now listen, friend, tell me what you hear.”
So I listened.
But I heard only the rambling between my
own two ears. “I hear nothing,” I said disappointed.
“What do you expect to hear?”
“I don’t know… what I’m used to hearing.”
Then I realized my error, and at that moment an unlikely solution suggested
itself to remedy the situation.
“Trust your heart, friend. You know how
to.”
“Yes, okay.”
I tried again. This time I expected nothing
– this is what I received. The Rambler had been defeated and all was reticent.
It was pacifying, I felt myself getting lighter, as if weightless upon a moon.
A smooth static began to fill my ears; softly, slowly, slickly becoming louder.
Not in an uncomfortable manner but a smooth one. I tuned into one ear like the
dial on a radio cassette, then into the other; peculiarly they both had their
own unique sounds that seemed to compose one.
Is this what it means to “listen”?
Then a curious thing occurred: the pitch
raised and progressively around me the void was filled with sound. A variety of
sounds; at first everyday sounds I’ve grown accustomed too: the sound of cars
passing by, hooters, sirens, the busy chatter of a crowded place, glasses
knocking together, hurried footsteps rushing past, the neighbour mowing his
lawn with a weed cutter that buzzes like a thousand hornets descending. Then the
clamour of electromagnetic bombardment that polluted the airways; the stuff
I heard on radio and television. Then fragments of my favourite songs; strung
together like candy on a string. Then obscure sounds, some I recognized, and
others I did not.
Its source was everywhere and everything.
They all seemed to amalgamate into a symphonic vibration that resounded through
what felt like my body.
I listened to the wind, the birds, the
ocean, the mountains, the stars, the Universe in motion; everything had its own
singular sound, like a divine algorithm that resonated through the ether. It
compiled itself before my eyes into an eternal score that spiraled around me in
parallel strings of soft light with intricate sheet notation displayed. I could
see, hear and feel every note. The Universe had become music, the sweetest symphony
my ears have ever caught. An all encompassing love prevailed over me at that
moment like a boy happy to be content with a patch of grass to lie on under a
shady tree on a warm summer’s day. So simple, yet strongly gratifying.
My Guide’s voice added another bar to the
score, “Now open your eyes,” and my eyes opened.
“I didn’t even know they were shut.”
“Strange how we stumbled through the
corridor of our lives blinded because we don’t open our eyes.”
“I’ve been deaf and blind.”
“Not anymore, the Phase is yours again.”
I glanced around, just white – the purest
white, not a blemish, nothing else. In front of me my Guide, with his warm
smile.
“What is this place?”
“It is one of the highest levels on your
Tower.”
“My Tower ?”
“It has a wonderful view.”
I suddenly noticed a rectangular frame
behind my Guide, elongated with rounded corners. It portrayed an image I found
myself keen to investigate. “Pop”! I now stood in front of this picture; a
panoramic, three dimensional landscape view. I realized then I was looking out
of a window upon an expansive field of iridescent white that glowed curiously
in the mysterious night. A large moon hung so low on the horizon it seemed to
levitate; it bathed the atmosphere in radiance and riddles. The ground was flat
with smooth hills in the far distance; everything was a mantle of white.
“What do they call this place?”
“I do not know what ‘they’ call it, but you
know what you call it.”
I thought this strange but then it suddenly
occurred to me, as if I had just remembered. “The Nacreous Fields.”
“A beautiful place, you cannot truly
experience it through a post card.”
My urge was palpable. Suddenly and swiftly
the elongated rectangle shrank into a circle, its diameter large enough to be
considered an exit.
I looked out at the smooth opalescent walls
of the tower and the sheer drop that seemed endless. Then looked back
ponderously at my Guide, he gestured for me to proceed. His smile gave me
confidence and I stepped out. My foot met a white platform that seemed to shoot
from the Tower, and as I descended; each step met another platform that
materialized just at the moment it seemed I would plunge. Slowly I descended,
too slow. I looked behind me; the Tower stretched on upwards through the faint
clouds high in the sky, its top obscured from view. It appeared like a pillar
holding up the sky, keeping the stars from crashing to tera-firma. Ahead of me;
the broad radiant orb that dominated the sky. From my Guide’s perspective
behind me it must’ve appeared as though I walked into the moon.
I took my next step inattentively – my foot
did not meet a platform. Suddenly I felt the tow of gravity and I fell. The
ground seemed to rush up to meet me. I panicked, wailing my arms in futility.
Amidst this chaos I noticed a presence and
beside me I stared through wide eyes at my Guide. I tried to scream but I
choked. He was calm, free falling alongside me. Then he chuckled, the notion
was so outrageously absurd to me that for an instant I traded my fear for my
voice, “Why do you laugh!?”
His voice rang out to me, “You have
forgotten, friend.”
That’s all he needed to say for the
memories to resurface and exile the fear. I suddenly realized that I should’ve
hit solid surface already. I peered down and noticed that I floated, only
meters from the ground. I looked at my guide again and he stood upon the
luminous surface looking back. I found my feet again and my feet found
themselves amongst the fragile stalks and petals of white flowers that glowed
with the impression of morning dew. My weight crushed the delicate flora
beneath my feet. My Guide’s feet seemed to settle upon them like droplets of
water and the flowers held him aloft as though they possessed a strength that
challenged their appearance.
“I yielded to fear
again, it was so complete that it drowned out what was in plain sight.”
“Fear is like the
blindfold around your eyes.” My disappointment in myself was apparent, “Be more
compassionate with yourself, you are now aware of the enemy’s weapons and soon
it can no longer be a weapon against you because you will endure and can
overcome. You are stronger than your enemy’s weapons so he must use trickery to
weaken you first, blind you so he can strike. When you are aware of your
enemy’s tactics and weapons he can no longer harm you.”
“Who is the enemy?”
“You already know.
He is your wrath, your envy, your sloth, your gluttony, your pride, your lust,
your avarice – all inequities of the False Ego, your foe. And opposing the
virtues of your Divine
State : your humility,
your generosity, your kindness, your self control, your zeal, your faith and
temperance, your love.”
“I must defeat the
enemy by nourishing my Divine
State while starving my
False Ego?”
“Yes, they are
both ravenous wolves and only the one that is fed will grow strong while the
other deteriorates.”
“The foe has
become strong because I have allowed him to rob the virtuous wolf of his
sustenance.”
“He must, because
he knows he must be strong to enfeeble you. And he knows that you do not battle
him alone.”
“I have allies?”
“Every human being
can be an ally, we all fight the same demon. Your Enemy turns your allies
against you when he can because he knows collectively you are invincible. He
will surely perish before such righteousness. He delays his demise that way.
When you meet him you must face him with courage, for he is truly a coward.”
This filled me
with a subliminal hope. I felt lighter again and realized I now stood upon the
flowers too, the ones I had crushed were rejuvenated. I drew in the arresting
beauty that surrounded me like conductive iron shavings to a magnetic field. I
breathed in deeply; the air was pure and sweet with the fragrance of the
flowers that carpeted the land, each flower’s distinctive aroma was
discernable, like a fingerprint it made each flower stand out individually. I
could feel the luminosity of the moon upon me like a cool breeze, I could see
it shimmer through the faint mist of pollen that hung in the air like pixie
dust. I heard the faint murmur of the breeze through the slender stalks of the
flowers. Every sense was amplified acutely like I have never known in the
outside world.
“Feel free to
explore, your fear will not assail you so belligerently now that you have
already foiled him once.”
I felt that notion
of emancipation that I knew then I would come to relish.
Like an arrow
that’s finally been let loose after a fletching too long my legs carried me
swiftly over these fields. The environment itself seemed to pass through me as
I moved. Every atom and particle sparked as they passed through each other like
time through space. I felt a part of the environment rather then apart. I
desired to feel more, this intention
was augmented with the power of suggestion. “The Nacreous Fields” stretched by
in a blur of indigo-blue. As if a luminous thread was my direct link to the
planet’s own consciousness; I knew where my destination would be and suddenly I
found myself on the edge of a hill that rolled down steadily like the sap of a
tree down a branch.
My Guide was
already there as if pending my arrival. He was smiling warmly, he looked out
ahead; upon the field that lay spread out from both hemispheres below us. An
ocean of silver silk; the placid waters reflected the moon, exaggerating its
girth further and warping its edges. The moon itself resided over this sea like
a brooding sentinel, guarding this precious planet. I felt humbled by the
spectacle.
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again I’m sitting on the surface of the moon, the glowing
planet in front of me - and I knew peace.
-From the journal of a Phase Drifter
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