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The Path © 1998 by: Cirse Windom
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Righteous Contenders and Exclusion ~ war |
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once, as seeker wandered along the path, he listened and heard voices of fear. voices of blame. voices of suffering and pain.
the unmistakable voice.... of war.
seeker felt hopelessness well up from deep inside, stirred from repression by heavy, sinking dread.
as seeker approached the scene of battle, he could see faces of anger, faces of terror.... faces of torment.
all peoples of all differences and all similarities ~ even children performing at the direction and discretion of their elders ~ engaged in tremendous battle.
weapons clashed and many fell.
somewhere, among piercing shrieks of rage and terror, somewhere.... within the haunting voices of fear and hate and need.... seeker heard these words ~ transcending the ocean of sound like symbols of sadness given wings to float above and echo to the masses....
“prophecy.... chosen.... i.... merciful.... truth.... crusade....
judgment.... condemnation.... lies.... never.... forgiveness....
suffer.... you.... victorious.... righteous.... defeat....”
and among the sea of motion ~ flashed faces.... familiar to seeker..... reflecting out of darkness, expressing great emotion, reminding seeker of the frailty of existence and faith’s vulnerability to influence.
imparting to seeker an indelible tragedy of humanity.
faces seeker knew from egocentric’s band of followers, faces seeker knew as disciples of the dandelion keeper. faces so similar ~ so similar of fear and of need, so similar of blame and of hate, so similar and defined only by their belief ~ clung to like their very breath ~ wielded like a weapon, flashing in their eyes.... faces.... determined to destroy.
the path ran with blood.
so many wanderers seeker saw driven by their passion for superiority. slaying one another, slaying hope, slaying peace ~ in the name of belief.
willing carnage.... in the name of belief.
and for this, they lay them selves down.
for this, they brought others to the ground.
for this ~ among cooling corpses ~ they lay down the silent, weeping wail of love and last long breath of peace.
not yet could love be heard, could faith be felt.... not yet seen nor believed. not among these willing to trade acceptance for oppression.
not among these, this moment.... this instant.... worshiping in the way of war, beyond the will to see their own devastation.
seeker saw as other wanderers ~ enchanted by commotion ~ became caught up in chaos, appearing like leaves swirling in a sea....
unknown to them selves....
so needful in fear....
believing that to simply
belong
was purpose....
without regard.... they took up arms and joined in a battle they knew nothing of. seeker watched in horror as so many were brutally maimed and slain. one wanderer fell before seeker, bludgeoned by another.
the wanderer rose upon his knees and into the abysmal darkness cried in great anguish.... cried in great reverence.... “oh mighty keeper.... deliver me from this cursed path.... deliver me from my enemies.... deliver me to the glory of your light....”
the wanderer, weapon in hand, impaled his self falling to the ground.
in the distance, another fallen wanderer cried out: “oh, egocentric, bring mercy upon my suffrage, i am loyal, i am your servant, bring mercy and deliver me to your great light.”
she reached for a nearby wanderer and begged to be slain. begged for her suffrage to end. the nearby wanderer fell to her side and begged for her to live. “live! live for the glory of the light! live and crusade for the glory of the light!”
“please....” begged the fallen wanderer. “have mercy and deliver me from my suffering.... take me that i may join and become the light!”
“it is better that you live.... better that you endure until the glory of the light comes within you ~ it is your duty.... your righteous cause to live! live!”
the fallen wanderer lay, unable to move, unable to influence even by her last anguished breath.... “mercy....”
and her departed voice floated above the baleful noise and echoed to egocentric’s crusader who now rose and ~ beyond receiving sound, beyond receiving feeling and love, beyond faith and knowing, beyond the hope and will of peace ~ driven to deafness by his greatest need and fear.... resumed his battle.
seeker saw standing in the center, egocentric.
seeker saw standing in the center, a disciple.
seeker saw at the center....
the
perceived need to
destroy
seeker saw the stone, swung about on a thong.... a chain of dandelions, cast above the masses.
striving.... consumed with the need to shield the self from their truth.... from their insecurities, these groups spoke of faith and boasted of their undying devotion, but these groups knew nothing of them selves....
and so.... willfully lightless within.... embraced only darkness.... willfully faithless in them selves.
another wanderer fell, mortally wounded, and lay upon the ground wailing, “i am afraid to die! i am afraid! i’ve no belief of salvation.... help me to live. help me to live!”
a nearby disciple knelt by her side. “i cannot help you to live, but i can help you to die.”
choking and near hysteria the fallen wanderer implored, “what.... what must i do?”
the disciple, rocking and desperate to be heard, leaned over the fallen study. “give your light unto the ‘keeper of the light’. he will absolve you of your wickedness.... excuse your ignorance.... and welcome you into his light!”
“can you hear me?” the disciple gazed with searching eyes. scratching a lone and wilted dandelion from the near ground, he pressed it into the wanderer’s palm and held it to the wanderer’s rasping chest. “can you believe?”
a second follower fell to the wanderer’s opposite side, slapped the dandelion out of her hands and in anger yelled into her face. “this is no good! this is heresy.... you must believe in the ways of egocentric! he and he alone can lead us into salvation. he and he alone commands the great light of glory and forgiveness!” the egocentric threw his self across the wanderer’s chest and prayed for deliverance.
the disciple pushed the egocentric aside and grabbed the now still wanderer. “her soul belongs to the keeper!”
“egocentric!”
and over the wanderer’s cooling body the two opponents fought viciously ~ eventually turning weapons upon one another ~ until both lay slain.
to seeker’s anger and sadness he realized that until individuals gained control over them selves they would always attempt to control some other. until wanderers could truthfully assess and accept them selves, preparing their spirit for growth, they would always strive to shift self blame upon some other, even a forged and false image of self sufficient to bear such a burden.
seeker longed to stop the atrocities, to encourage greater awareness, but knew too well the futility in such an act. for, he saw that these wanderers had chosen their way, and regardless of destiny were continually building the foundations of fate.
were
suddenly, seeker felt a sharp blow to his lower back.
seeker fell to his knees, then.... unable to support his self, fell to the ground and for a moment lay unconscious.
as seeker slowly awoke, he saw the face of the disciple who had once prepared to initiate seeker ~ the face.... of the ‘lighter of the fire’.
the disciple held a large stick above her head, and seeker saw that he had been recognized by this wanderer who was now preparing his demise.
unable to bring his body to respond, seeker lay still ~ as from the mouth of the face he heard the words.... “faithless heretic! this.... is.... your.... judgment!”
for a long while seeker lay somewhere in what he felt was a seemingly separate realm.
seeker was aware he was lying within a quiet battlefield ~ aware he was among many who were slain or slowly taking their changing place within the circle.
above the bodies of fallen wanderers the sound of silent suffering seemed to linger in a low fog.... only occasionally, suddenly shattered by a stray wail of agony.... a veil of daunting depth ~ made to drift like a slow curling wake until finally shrouding again the heavy and muted despair.
for a brief while, seeker sat beside his self and contemplated the nature of this other realm.
‘if i choose, can i rise and walk away ~ further separated from my physical self?’
‘if i chose, could i later return to my body and continue along the path, in that form?’
‘how odd.’ thought seeker, as he stretched his foot out and poked his self with his toe.
“wake up.” he said to his self. there was no response. suddenly seeker felt his self being pulled back within his body, but he felt oddly whole of sense and willfully resisted.
seeker thought of simply walking on ~ exploring this other realm.
seeker’s body appeared to be very still.
he turned and regarded his self ~ and very strongly wanted to return. and again, he felt his self being pulled within.
again, seeker resisted.
looking about, he saw many corpses littered among darkness.... and gazed upon the few wanderers who seemed to possess the dimmest fading light.
seeker felt overwhelmed by a sudden and tremendous sense of sadness, anger and purpose.... overwhelmed by the equally impressive and simultaneous desire to return ~ and willfully submerged his self back into his body.
gradually, seeker awoke and regained his previous sense of conscious awareness.
once again embodied and, thus, experiencing great pain, seeker crawled over corpses until he found a large stick. carefully, seeker pulled his weight upon the stick and straightened his self.
seeker gazed intently upon his hand firmly around the stick and realized that the same stick once used to fell him, now held him. seeker thought of the many ways in which others employed other beings as devices for their many uses. the ways in which leaders employed followers, like sticks to support a weakened constitution.
as he stood contemplating, seeker was startled by a wailing cry in the distance: “i’ve gone blind! i’m blind!”
moments later, another voice sounded from afar.
“i, too, have been blinded!”
approaching the sound of voices, seeker saw a wanderer slowly making her way.... crawling toward the other.
the first ~ gripped by panic and still screaming into his darkness ~ knelt with his hands thrashing about as if warding off invisible attackers. “help, help, i’m blind!”
the second slowly crawled over and around corpses toward the voice of the first until she had at last arrived by the first wanderer’s side. employing the stick as a staff and observing the two wanderers, seeker slowly approached.
the second wanderer braved the blows of the first, neared his side and held him tightly until the first wanderer gradually calmed.
“it’s going to be all right. i’ve reckoned with my blindness, accepted my situation, and it’s not so bad. if we stay together, we can help one another. we will survive.”
the second wanderer then felt about until she had gathered two long sticks. “here, you have one, and i’ll have one.”
“i cannot walk.” said the first. “i’m afraid....”
“but, only your eyes are ineffective. your legs will still walk, if you’ll let them.”
“no,” cried the first, “i’m afraid!”
“i will walk beside you. trust me that you need not fear what you cannot see. together, we will help one another to find our way.”
the second wanderer found the arm of the first and, holding firmly the sticks, together they stood.
“it is no different than once possessing our sight, but still being in darkness....” said the second.
“yes! you are right. soon, we shall find others having vision, who will lead us ~ just as we have before in finding those with great light!”
the first wanderer hobbled a bit ~ stumbled and pressed upon his companion for guidance and support.
“soon....” he continued, “we will come upon the disciples and they will welcome us into their light!”
the second wanderer dropped the arm of the first and said with great aggravation, “you mean we will come into the light of the egocentrics!”
the second wanderer caught her foot under a corpse and fell into her companion. regaining her balance by pressing the stick against the ground, she pushed harshly away from the disciple.
the first, staggered and turned toward his companion, as if to see, and leveled an accusing finger. “you are truly blind, for you cannot see the virtue of the dandelion keeper ~ the keeper of the light!”
the second, unable to see the accusatory gesture, stood defiant and raised the stick. “you are a sightless fool, and are deserved of your blindness! you are beneath the glory of egocentric and his followers! i’ll not walk in your presence.”
“and i’ll not walk in yours!”
the two hurriedly turned away from one another, falling instantly ~ the second upon the first.
violently they lashed out, each turning a stick against the other.
from a short distance seeker leaned against the stick he held, watching as the two opponents rose upon their knees ~ embodied, willing monuments of intolerance ~ blindly dodging and wailing upon one another.
willing symbols of need and fear.
leaving the battlefield, seeker felt such weight upon his faith.
such depth of mourning for love and for hope.
such pain for the willful disregard.... the hatred and bitterness manifest among these groups of righteous contenders who were so fearful of others’ beliefs, so fearful of their own selves and their own faith as to demand the allegiance of another so as to affirm their own chosen belief.
such disregard which brought about such suffering.
rather than respect and nurture independent ideals, accepting one another as equals and recognizing similarities in their quest for understanding ~ seeker saw each member within such groups become ~ behave in the persona of their ego, bringing entire groups to reflect such a persona.
seeker embraced his sadness and frustration, and in his acceptance, without desire to oppress, reaffirmed his faith.
seeker moved a step forward, and without desire to oppress.... reaffirmed his faith.
seeker breathed another breath, and without desire to oppress.... reaffirmed his faith.
and to seeker’s sense of self, his perceptions of existence, his purpose and destiny.... to the wonder of his faith, seeker held more tightly than ever before.
seeker wondered if he would ever see beauty again.
wondered if there was hope to be found in others.
love to be found....
peace to be known at all.
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Writing - Home The
Gift of Everlasting Cheer | Tide Pool
Surprise |
Can You See What I See |
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All text and graphics on this page and within this website (aimsatyourservice.com) are copyrighted by Lisa Bracken and/or Cirse Windom 1995-2007, except as otherwise noted. All rights are reserved. Reproduction and distribution of any kind is strictly prohibited. Please visit the legal notices page to inquire about copyright, reprint and other issues. |