The Folly of Raised Consciousness

The Nature of Spirituality

While working with my Sister in a village in Honduras where she had bought property and had set up a small clinic for the people of that village and surrounding areas I was able to see firsthand that spirituality is not a condition of what we possess or an arbitrary hierarchy of needs as so many of us believe.  There was every form of disease and malnutrition and every single person who came to her clinic would receive a dose of a de-worming medicine just for showing up. Parasites infested everyone because there was no infrastructure anywhere in Honduras that could provide basic needs.  Dirt floors and stick huts packed with mud were common and trips to the river were where the villagers drank, washed clothing and dishes and bathed themselves.
One day we, my sister and I were talking about the children who always seemed to be hanging around. I observed that they all seemed so happy and asked my sister if she thought these little ones stood a chance of ever having a spiritual awareness. She exclaimed immediately that it was not possible in the least as they were struggling with so many other issues that to discover their own divine nature would be impossible. I was surprised  by her response and asked, “How do you explain that they all seem so happy?” Her response was just as immediate and similarly direct. “I don’t know,” she said, “it puzzles me too because they have nothing and they have nothing to look forward to!”
I was not satisfied with this answer and pressed her a bit further on the subject of spirituality. She insisted that “basic needs” had to be served before anyone could advance to a more “enlightened” state and that outside of the work she was doing to help the little ones in her village few if any had any chance of having anything other than a life of poverty and disease. I remember being saddened by her assessment of those children and pondered the sweetness in their faces and their complete exhilaration with the life they were living. Not once did I ever hear a child complain of their circumstances and everywhere I saw gratitude and acceptance, happiness and joy. In fact, when I was getting ready to leave three of the young children wrote me letters thanking me for coming to visit them and expressing how much they loved having me there with them. What moved me most, however, were their wishes for me. Each of these wonderful children wished for me to have “everything I desired” in life and to be happy.  Without having any concept of how “good” I had things in my life, how abundant and full of the things that are supposed to help us become “actualized,” these children were completely giving of themselves.  What they gave was more than all the riches in the world. They gave their love, their friendship and from the very depths of their souls, they spoke to mine.
Their “giving” to me was from the depths of someone deeply spiritual but without, even, the label of “spirituality.” They were divine and it didn’t matter if they knew what that meant or not. Life for them was a treat as was my life when I was with them.  I wept when I read the words of giving and concern for my happiness.
Spiritually speaking these were the great ones. Amidst, the squalor, disease and rampant poverty, as we in the west would define it, I witnessed majesty as I have never seen it. I stood among giants and I trembled before them. I could no longer feel any sorrow for these children as my sorrow for them turned to sorrow for myself. I had become the judge of their existence and what I had seen for them was destroyed by what they already knew about existence. In desolation, they knew more than I ever hoped to. They were humble; I was embarrassed. I was completely undressed by the “gods” of this tiny little village and I have never been the same since. My prayer since that visit has been that the children of this village never discover the labels we put on them and that their simple view of life never gives way to the noise of our, so called, “actualized” descriptions.
Surely spiritual awareness, which I had sought for so many years, is not a property of attainment, acclaim, and fulfillment of so-called basic needs.  Spiritual awareness is our very first aspect; it is the very core of our nature.  How true the New Age statement that “we are spiritual beings having a human experience”.  There is nothing we must attain to in order to achieve spiritual awakening.  In fact, it might be considered an arrogant assumption that we must somehow become something we are not, nor may ever be, in order to achieve higher states of awareness.   One might ask, “What chance do the poor and infirm have of ever reaching higher states of awareness if they must rise above basic needs when such a possibility may never present itself in their lifetimes?”  We all sense a kind of hypocrisy at such a question because we know that some of our greatest spiritual icons came from such circumstances.  Some even went from incredible wealth and royalty to a life of poverty and begging as a way to find the awareness I was convinced must come some other way.
We are spiritual beings.  Our first state of existence is a spiritual one and it is the human-ness of our earthly existence that conditions us to think that the human is not the second state but the first.  The focal point of our existence, the peak of the pyramid, if you will, is our most basic knowing, and poverty and lack are equally able as is wealth and riches, or education and intellect, to drive us from or to that knowing.
Adapted from the book: On Human Being-Loving & Living Without Purpose

Of Carts and Bags - A Tale of Christmas

It was a cool, somewhat gloomy morning with a light snow falling but not accumulating.  Just a few things to be done including a quick trip into town to pick up some things to complete a project I was finishing up.  The large home improvement store, in town, wasn’t crowded, surprisingly, especially for a weekend and so close to Christmas.  I suspect the dreariness of the day was the reason so few were out and about.

I made my purchases, exited the store and began making my way across the parking lot to my car when I noticed out of the corner of my eye an older, disheveled woman, running in the direction of my car and on a trajectory that would intercept me just about the time I reached the car myself.  I didn’t give it much thought until she raised her hand and started calling out, “sir, sir, oh sir can you help me out?”  I looked up without really considering that my car was alone in that section of the parking lot and while I acknowledged her call to me for help I assumed she was going to ask me to assist her in loading something in her car.  I was only too happy to be of assistance but looking around the parking lot there were no cars nearby that I thought might be hers.

As she approached me she surprised me by asking if I could drive her to meet a friend exactly seven point two miles up the highway.  I quickly thought how odd it was that she knew the exact mileage to her destination but before I could say a word she told me her car had broken down and she really needed to meet her friend just up the road.  She offered to pay me for gas if I could just help her out in this small but important way.   There was an urgency in her plea that overwhelmed any sense of concern in me and I simply agreed to take her to meet her friend.  She was so grateful and thanked me profusely while I opened the car door to let her into my car.  As she passed in front of me to get into the car I noticed the foulest smell.  It was the smell of dirty wet dog with a hint of urine and rotting milk.

I got into the car, started the engine and quickly opened my window as the smell was so disturbing.  I put the car into gear and began moving when she asked if I could go up to the other end of the parking lot so she could get some things from her car to take with her.  I agreed and slowly moved across the lot expecting her to point out her car so I could stop and she could gather the things she needed.  As we neared the edge of the building she instructed me to stop but there were only a few cars nearby parked in the employee parking area.  I asked her which car was hers and she just instructed me to stop.  I stopped and as she stepped out of the car she told me to just stay here and I’ll be right back.

I looked around to see which car she was going to get into but she slipped in between two cars and began pushing a shopping cart that was full of boxes and plastic grocery bags.  I stepped out of the car and she called out, “oh no you don’t need to help, I can get this.”  I walked back to the rear of my car and opened the rear gate and began to remove items from the cart and place them into the car.   It dawned me that there really wasn’t a broken down car and that the items I was loading into my car were her possessions.  Worn out clothing, worn out shoes and a dirty sleeping bag along with some odds and ends that I knew must be important to her.  Her story about her broken down car now seemed a ploy to tug on my heartstrings to get me to help her out.  MY demeanor changed from cheery helper to guarded dupe who had just been taken by a homeless, bag lady.

We got everything into the car, stepped into the car ourselves and headed for the interstate on ramp heading north.   She reiterated that the destination was only seven point two miles up the highway and that she truly appreciated me helping her out. I didn’t say anything because I was now put out.  She began to speak of how she had fallen on hard times, that her mother had fallen very ill and lost her house while her father died suddenly just about the time she lost her own job.   It was a tale of hardship and loss but she never really lost her perkiness as she told it.  She seemed very happy to be alive even amidst the hardships she had encountered.   She thanked me over and over even as I tried to tell her it was no big deal and not to worry.

I kept a close eye on the odometer because I didn’t want to overrun her exit but we drove far beyond the seven point two miles she said we were going and I began to wonder just how far the drive would be.  It was about fifteen miles.  I was stewing.  She pointed out the exit we were to take and I made the turn off the freeway when she asked me, “you know, speaking of hard luck if you wanted to help me out with a few dollars I would really appreciate it. “This was the proverbial straw.
I blurted back abruptly, “wait a minute, you mean you’re asking me for money when you offered to pay me for gas to drive you to where you are going?”  She responded, “oh yes that’s right I did offer to pay for gas.  How much would you like for your gas.”  I was flabbergasted.  I wasn’t about to take any money from her but I asked, “do you even have a car?”  She said that she did have one about seven years ago.  Very sternly I began to lecture her about her lack of honesty and how if she was up front and honest that she might get a better response from people and more would be likely to help her out.  She agreed with everything I said and began apologizing and promised that she would take to heart all the things I told her would make her a better panhandler.

She became very quiet other than to point out a Target store down the road that was where she would be getting out.  I was feeling smug as could be that I had exerted my two cents and had successfully given her useful instruction on being a better homeless person.  I drove her to a place where excess shopping carts had been lined up along the outer wall of the building and stopped, got out of the car while she did the same. Without speaking she walked over got a cart and wheeled it back to the car and I began helping her load.  She placed each bag in a particular order and meticulously positioned them as if she knew exactly where each one belonged in that particular cart.  She didn’t have much but she loved what she had.  My heart tugged.

When she finished loading she looked up at me and thanked me again not only for the ride but the instruction as well.  She offered to pay again and I told her there is no way I will take any money from you.  I then reached into my pocket and removed my wallet, took out every bill I had and handed it to her.  It wasn’t more than seventy dollars and she pleaded with me that she would not take it while reaching over as fast as she could and snatching from my hands.  It didn’t matter. I would have given her more if I had it.  I was feeling a bit like a heal but her graciousness poured out again and she thanked me over and over. I smiled at her and told her she should have a nice meal with her friend.

The encounter was over.  I got into my car, drove out of the parking lot and about the time I was entering the main road when I suddenly burst into laughter.  Not ordinary laughter but debilitating, full on, belly laughter. You know the kind that takes your breath away and creates tears that stream down your face.  I had to pull over to the side of the road because I had no bodily control and was not able to see the road through the tears.  I roared like never before and the convulsive heaves of laughter poured from my mouth in huge waves.  I was hysterical; absolutely hysterical.  This lasted for several minutes before I could see through my tear soaked eyes and I began to breathe deeply and methodically so I could regain enough composure to make the drive back home.

As I was sitting there the thoughts began to pour in.  I had just lectured this lady, who carried all her possessions in a shopping cart, on the virtues of honesty in the performance of living an effective “homeless” life while at the same time realizing that not only had she secured the ride to her next place of temporary residence but she got all my money as well and by doing it exactly the way she had always done it!   I began to laugh again, only this time at the smugness of my offering her a better way while sitting on the side of the road, roughly thirty miles from home and not a penny in my pocket.

There is no lesson here or profound meaning.  This is nothing more than a chance encounter with a fellow soul whose trajectory in life happened upon mine at this unique time and place in the eternities.  I judged her and who knows but perhaps she judged me, as well, but even still it was the connection of two souls living the life they were living and without the judgments each life was perfectly fine.  We find a way, don’t we?

I smile, still, when I think of this intersection of our paths and often wonder how she is doing and really how special my encounter with her was.  A lecture, a laugh and smiles for the memories. Looking back and then returning to the present there is no one I would have rather given my money and a ride too.  Merry Christmas.

The Matrix and Such Things

I have a site on Facebook titled “Spiritual Intuition” where I post a daily comment both in the morning and later in the evening.  I have also been invited to share the posts on a few other sites that are looking for spiritual or inspirational content, as well.  Occasionally I get comments or feedback and on some occasions I even get a question or request to expound further, which in most cases, I do right there in the comments to the post. 

On one such occasion I was asked a question that I feel would be more appropriate in a blog post.   I’ve hesitated to respond to this particular question because my answer is of such a nature that it might be thought offensive or flippant and I really don’t want that to be how it is seen nor do I ever want to offend someone who is asking questions in a most sincere way.  I’ve decided to proceed anyway but with the disclaimer that this is not intended to be a put down in any way. 

First the post I put on Facebook and then the question that followed (http://fb.me/vWecbJXx).  

My post:  “Nothing, no one is orchestrating your experience. Stop tying yourself to reasons that have no reason.

The best excuse for living is that you already are. Get in to it! Awesome day! Carl”

Now the question:  “Throw light on the matrix theory, some day, Carl. And also, how do you see it….in the light of the above quotation.  My best wishes.”

Dear friend,

For me and in the simplest terms, I have no experience with the “matrix theory” and so in that sense it does not exist for me.  Having said that, I don’t think about it at all other than in the context of something I call “junk food for the brain.”  It is fascinating to listen to others speculate and expound on the complexities of such things and, of course, the movie “The Matrix” is a creative wonder that captivated the minds of millions of people including me.  Still, I honestly don’t think about it nor do I find any discussion of it germane to my experience as a human being. 

If “it” (the Matrix) is, then for me, “it” simply is and I am good with it.  I often tell people to overcome and put aside their unique and, or their specific beliefs about things, as these are what binds us to an experience that is limited and often frustrating.  In other words, I believe everything or nothing which is ultimately the same thing.  It simplifies the experience of life by taking all the worry and concern out of it and leaves “it,” as I see it, pretty open to “all that is” which is, well, “all that is.”   

My space alien friends and conspiracy theory friends and so many others who dwell on these things seem so wrapped up in the dangers and seedy underbelly of forces that are out to control us and take away our freedoms and life experience as we now know it and I still can’t get myself to alter any focus on anything other than this incredible experience I am constantly embraced by.  I do love a good mystery and I am in constant aw and wonder at the creative ways the human mind can conjure all these things and yet at the same time who’s to say that any of it is untrue?  Certainly not me.  All I can offer is that I have no experience of it and you might already have heard me say that “nothing exists without our experience of it.”   “Does a tree falling in the forest make a sound?”  Not if I didn’t hear it.  End of story…for me anyway! 

As of yet, my post, which spawned your question, still holds, e.g., “nothing, no one is orchestrating your experience.”  My experience has included the absolute awareness, and I often say, “it" is the one and only thing I know for sure” that “I am not this body.”  I don’t know, believe or subscribe to anything else except this.  I am not this body and this includes the mind, heart, feelings, consciousness and anything else we ascribe to human form.  We experience “it” but we’re not “it.”  We are something else that transcends human form and for me I couldn’t begin to describe it in terms the human mind could comprehend.  So I don’t.  I just accept that “something” is having this incredible human experience and what “it” is loves it completely without question or judgment. 

Some may see this as incredibly simplistic and it is but oh my…what liberation!  I don’t worry at all about the masters of the matrix or what the illuminati is doing to the world, or whether the crazy gods whoever they may be are doing to the world I create and experience.  They, whoever they are, haven’t taken over any part of my experience yet so I’m living the dream.  I take that back; the dream is living me! 

I think I’ve answered the second part of your question.  It doesn’t have any effect on my experience other than to provide a little mysterious fun (junk food) to my already wild imagination and as for what I get to be aware of in this experience, the matrix, the boogeyman de jour or the latest conspiracy theory, could not come close to imagining or affecting.   My excuse for living, is, simply living.  I love it all! 

Thanks again for asking the question and bearing with my response.  This has been fun for me and hopefully for you as well.  All my best and please never hesitate to comment further, share your thoughts of this and many other subjects, or rebut my remarks.  Life for me is pretty non-complex.  I actually see it as a vacation; that is, a vacation of the Gods from the other things Gods do (this also means I think you’re God).  Vacations are for relaxing, recharging, having fun and most of all not taking anything too seriously.  I’m pretty good at it!  All my love, 

Carl

Choosing Supportive Thoughts

I was recently asked this question by a dear friend: "Carl can you share your thoughts on choosing thoughts that support 'us' and who is that chooser?"

I must admit that my response is somewhat disjointed but I think it does get to the point I am trying to make.  Here is my response and by all means let me know your thoughts.  This is a most important question to any seeker who moves through life "chopping wood and carrying water."

An obvious response to such a question is to choose thoughts that are upbeat and positive and in a lot of new age thought, with emphasis on the Law of attraction, we are taught to choose only good thoughts and to even make judgments about how things are going by the way we think and feel about them.  The fundamental problem with this idea of “choosing,” this or that, is that we give ourselves over to forces that somehow have control of our life experiences whether they be good or bad as we judge them.  I have often said that “experiencing life from the standpoint of “how you feel” about something is not a realistic nor a good formula for life” simply because life is a “full on” mystery and we have no control over the events that are occurring, the people who cross our paths or circumstances we find ourselves in at any given time.

What we must unlearn is that we can somehow “think” our way to a so called “abundant” life.  Any thought is likely to be against this because we are all taught that thinking is the only way to climb out of any “bad” situation we find ourselves in or the converse of this which is to think our way into maintaining the “good” situation we find ourselves in.  Most New Age teachers go so far as to tell us that they can take us out of any adverse situation by simply following the formula they themselves have experienced even though their unique experience can never be yours or my experience no matter how hard we put our mind (thoughts) to it.

I have struggled with this question for many, many years and always come back to the saying that “we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”  In other words, “WE” are not these bodies (which includes the mind and all its thoughts) so we need not take anything in our experience too seriously because we already are spiritual.  I say we are more than the gods we create in our minds to subject ourselves too. So what thoughts support this?  That really lies at the heart of the question and what we might think supports this likely does not.

At first blush we might look at the words of Paul the apostle who encouraged us to seek after things such as, “…whatever things are true, whatever things are honorable, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report; if there is any virtue, and if there is any praise, think about these things.  These are all things we would identify as “good” things to seek after and think about but there is a subtlety that is very misleading.  All these things require a judgment which is the tool of ego to disassemble anything going on in life, e.g., this is good and this is bad.  The ego always picks a side and puts all the arguments in front of it to divide from those who see “good or bad” in a completely different way.

Right and wrong is the ultimate tool of distraction and ego plays this well.  Can you see this?  It would have been just as effective for Paul to have said “whatever things are not pure, not virtuous, not lovely, etc., and you could not have wound up with a greater mess than we currently have amongst humans in the world.  We are nuts with rightness and wrongness.   So what should we think if “thinking” is the nature of the human and especially what do we think that supports us?

The only answer I have found satisfactory to me is to be contrary to what the mind thinks.  That is when the mind wants to judge, don’t judge.  When the mind wants to declare something good, erase the thought. When the mind wants to uphold a particular view accept the “other” view instead.  Mind wants you to hold to an idea of good or bad; don’t do either.  Another way to say it might be “seek not to be happy but seek to find happiness in those things that, otherwise, make you unhappy.”  If you can get to this type of non-judgment and acceptance of what was once judged good or bad everything begins to “be” okay.  That is, happiness, joy and all the other things we endlessly seek resonate within as a natural condition of our non-judgments.  The mind leads away from happiness; it takes us “too” things that are supposed to make us happy but either don’t, or are very short lived.

Here is an example of a contrary thought that goes against a primary tenet of many of our judgments that says simply; “you deserve to be happy.”  Well, “no you don’t!   No one deserves to be happy. In fact no one deserves a life different from the one they are living.  Do you see that this puts unnecessary requirements on something that is simply our nature when we determine that nothing we can do, say, think or believe can make us happy.  Be happy…period.

Ultimately, you are probably gathering that I take the position that no thought is a good thought.  Ego never has a thought that does not contain the motive that I am right and you are wrong and if we were all honest with ourselves we would recognize our own complicity with this greatest of all egoic tools.  This is why I am such an advocate of limiting our thoughts.  I know this doesn’t answer the question but outside of accepting “what is” without any judgment whatsoever, can I come up with thoughts that support us.  In fact, you could say, the less we think about thoughts that support us the more likely we are to get to know “us,” meaning YOU that lies beneath the you that is merely the “thought” of you.

This leads to the second part of the question which is who is the chooser of the thoughts?  This question for me is a bit easier to answer.  My response is:  “The chooser isn’t choosing the thoughts; the chooser is experiencing the thoughts the human is experiencing and is completely unattached to any thought, thought.”  In other words, only humans react to “human thought.”

Ultimately, all I’ve got is “the thoughts that support us are the thoughts not thought.”  Silence is always the ultimate support for in “stillness, god is known” and being face to face with that which YOU are requires no description or definition of any mind based thought.  

In fact, no mind could possibly conjure a description that came close to such knowing, even if the mind was working at one hundred percent.  The most thoughtful thought is the thought that contains no judgment and that pretty much negates any thought.  Don’t judge; now there’s a thought!

Honesty - Do You Tell the Truth or Does the Truth Tell You?

From the moment of our birth onward over the span of our human sojourn, we are conditioned to be other than what we truly are. Nowhere is this more prevalent than in our general understanding and subsequent expression of honesty.
We are all liars. In fact, we are so good at lying, many of us will take offense at such an accusation, but perhaps more importantly, we have become so good at it we don't even know it. Our conditioned nature has us convinced that our little withholdings and untruths are necessary to negotiate the collective human condition. We even come up with metaphors to express this conditioning even though we will not acknowledge the pervasive nature of our lies. We say things like half truths or little white lies to soften the blow, so to speak, so that our fragile egos do not have to face the fact that we are indeed liars. Collectively, we have come up with terms such as spin and techniques have been developed to divert the collective attention away from the truth.
We even accept that certain groups such as lawyers or politicians are dishonest and that is just the way it is. We will support individuals representing a political view, but overlook that they fall into a faction we know (and accept) as dishonest. We will even defend them to the point of anger or rage if they are attacked by another individual who is supported by a faction representing an opposing political view. Individually and collectively we have become defenders of our dishonesty.
Egoically, we have even gone so far as to determine that no individual ego, whether child or adult, should ever be told where they have missed the mark or fallen away from a particular guideline, without following up with where they have done well. Well, we don't want to hurt any feelings now, do we? We are so concerned about preservation of feelings (ego), that we cannot speak the truth, or as we might say, the whole truth. It is interesting that we have books titled Radical Honesty, proposing that what was once simple honesty has become so elusive that telling any truth has now become radical. In other words, we have conditioned ourselves into the proverbial corner, that honesty is no longer the best policy, rather it has become the exception to the rule, both individually and collectively.
 Perhaps in no other aspect of the human experience will it be more apparent how difficult it will be to alter this current conditioning. We have completely given way to the idea that feelings should not be hurt. We must conduct our lives in such a way that only the softest of blows are ever exacted against our own and other egos. The loss or damage of self-esteem is untenable in any circumstance. In other words, tell the truth if you can, lie if you must, but always spare the ego - always!

Gateway to Inner Knowing

If we can learn to listen to our inner talk, we can begin to notice the deceptions playing out in our minds. If we listen carefully, we can catch ourselves every time we tell a lie and hopefully, in time, catch it before we express it outwardly. In so doing, our dishonesty can become a window into the nature of our conditioning. It can become the way back to a life of integrity and truth. It is through that same window that we can begin to see once again our divine self. The who of our existence rather than the what the ego creates. Once found, we see life as it was before our conditioning took over our awareness.
Who you are always comprehends honestly. Finding who you are is the way out of the darkness of a life that is cloaked in a false illusion and untruth. In fact, it is the only way to have a life that is fully aware of something beyond our limited and egoic view of it.
It is seeing without eyes, hearing without ears. It is a life only a god could know.

A Rift in Illusion – Reflections of my Father

Few of us ever escape the chains of our reality and see beyond the forms before us.  We mire in our knowledge and all the things we gather to us, forming a shell that hardens with time.  For me I have seen past it only a few times and always in the strangest of ways.

He came to me so subtly and he was hardened by a life of struggle and hardship that was so developed his own mind no longer doubted the truth of anything he said.  His was a life of total fantasy and yet it was through this hardness and fantasy that I would see far beyond this earthly view.  He was the catalyst for a rift that broke through all my illusions and perhaps, his own.  I think he knew it himself but any expression of it had to pass through the shell of his imagination of which little if anything was believable.  It would be his secret, but not without first finding a way to peer out into horizons which are rarely known but always there.

We all walk alone through this life even though we are surrounded by others on every side.  They, too, harbor the depths of loneliness and fear we all feel but neatly tuck away inside us.  We wear our masks and wrap ourselves tightly in the things that best cover us from exposure to a brighter light.  It is the nature of humans.  Beasts of the field who walk stoically into life afraid to show how truly scared and alone they are.  We are taught to survive no matter the cost.  Spare no one or thing in preserving that which you are.  The strong survive and the cost to the weak is of no consequence.  This we must do and yet in some there arises the awesome awareness that it is not just the “man” that is important, but that life, all of life, is.  For some, the rift allows just enough light to shine through that we sense something greater than mere survival.  We turn to the light and see that we can survive without the “need” to survive.  We no longer need to run to or from life gathering as we go.  All we need is to walk with it and life itself becomes the giver. 

I saw this rift in a hospital room with a man, my Father, whose hardened life would take pause and see something far beyond the things and forms of normal life.  Most of my time with him was spent listening to his illusion of the events of his life.  Even in my own illusion his life, his illusion, was incomprehensible.  He was an enigma of the highest order.  Some might say crazy.  Yet he could not be more certain or proud of the life he lived.  I envied him.  It was, like most of us, the unexamined life.  Safe, but edgy.  Dramatic but fun.  Full in every way, even if it was imaginary.  I resigned myself to never knowing any of his history that began when I last saw him as a boy and when I met him a year ago. A history that would span over fifty years, now buried in the recesses of an imagined life. That part of him is and always will be a mystery. A parenthesis in time with no explanation.  

I didn’t know just how short his time would be in that hospital room.  Nothing indicated he was about to go.  But I should have known, I guess, because he did a most unusual thing.  He lifted his left hand upon which he wore a ring. In the short time that I knew him, I had never seen him without it.  He wore it on his ring finger even though he had been divorced and single most of his life. 

He removed the ring from his finger and handed it to me with the admonition to “make sure you give this to the boy.”  I asked “Which boy are you talking about?”  He replied earnestly, “You know the boy… Oh, what’s his name…?  Oh Carl.”  I asked, “Carl who?”  My father many times would speak directly to me about me which was one of many things about him I found so charming and fun.  I often would remind myself that his memories of me must have been of that 7 year old boy he left just as my memories of him were of a younger, more vibrant, beautiful man.  We both retained our earlier images of each other and in one sense, he was talking to that little boy by way of the man he had become.  These were always sweet exchanges.

He responded “You know…. Carl.”  “But I’m Carl,” I replied and he said, “I know.”  He added, “Make sure the boy wears that ring, it’s magic.  It will protect him and he will never want of anything.  Just make sure he gets it.”  I responded, “Okay, I’ve got it.”  He again reiterated the ring was special and would protect the boy.  I should’ve known he was telling me good-bye and passing along to me something he cherished and wanted his boy to have.  It was a tender moment. It was also a profound telling of what was to come that I should have recognized but missed completely. 

It was also in this moment that I saw him as he was before his shell had formed.  Sweet, kind, gentle.  That is what showed through that rift.  Then almost inexplicably, he spoke softly and solemnly.  “I’m so sorry for what I did to you kids.”  He shook his head and looked as if he would cry.  “I’m so, so sorry,” he said again.  I looked at him and he at me and that’s when he cracked wide open.  The light shined through and the mask of his life fell away. I saw him not as man but as God.  There were others there with him but his light reached out and grabbed me, filled me, and then lifted me – and then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.  He looked at me and smiled as if he knew just how much he had opened up.  Through his smile and with a glint in his eye, he winked and said simply, “That’s enough.”  I wanted to shake him but I knew the rift had closed.  That was the last time I saw him alive.  He passed quietly, shell and all. 

I returned to the hospital after the call came in and as I sat beside his lifeless but still warm body, I filled again, only this time with a rush of emotion and sadness.  He had left again as he had before.  It was sudden, unexpected, and without explanation.  This time, however, I saw into him in a way I could not as a boy.  As I sat there holding him in that quiet room I saw him flying, as it were, on the wings of Eagles soaring free, at last, from the darkness of his mind. He was at peace and wore the expression on his lifeless face. Looking back just a few hours earlier his smile said it all and I know, even now, he is not gone.  He, in fact, surrounds me in every way, only now it is pure light without the dreams and fantasy.  It is a brilliant light indeed. 

Life is sometimes perceived as desolation.  A hard journey through a maze of missteps, broken dreams, struggle and sadness.  It is like a maze through which we struggle to get through.  In time we become the maze and it becomes us, but all the while we move on.  We choose life in spite of the troubles along the way.   That is life’s relentless pull on all of us. We are life’s creators. We uphold it as we have learned to perceive it. It never is as we think it is even if we see its awesomeness. Life is always more grand and wonderful then the physical eyes through which we view it. It took knowing him before I knew this. 

I had waited as a boy first, then an adolescent, and then as an adult, for my Father to appear.  But when he did, it was unlike anything I imagined it would be.  I created my own illusion of what this visitor, must be when he did appear and the weight of it pressed down on me inexorably.  My illusion of him was a grand one. When he did appear, he was simple, broken, and feeble but he carried an unseen power that put into question everything I thought I knew and most certainly everything I had imagined.  He was indeed grand but in his way, not mine. The small was made great, the weak strong.  He was unafraid of the immensity of the universe and in showing me, I too became unafraid.

My father stepped across a great abyss and in the grandeur of those last few moments, he simply turned his head toward me and smiled.  The rift between what he was and what he became had been breached.  With a smile and a wink, I looked into eternity and saw again the worth of souls.  Together, for just that moment, we looked out into infinity and his light became one with my own.  I am not the same.