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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
Is the time we are spending on this planet the only life we will ever have? can we know? just maybe there is more than what we call time, but that would be Infinite and no matter what point you may be in your educated,intellectual path infinite is beyond us.

Submitted: March 22, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 22, 2008





Are we truly who and what we think we are?
Is this physical plain all that there is?
Do we go on after death?
Have we been before?

What is life?
Can we know?
Should we care?

By Ken the Carpenter

Philosophical Fiction?

R. Y. B. W.

For four years a very somber, even grave, atmosphere had pressed heavily upon the minds and attitudes of our entire village. Several members of our tribe, my beautiful, caring mother and elder brother among them, had gone on a 15-day trek in the forest to gather food and had mysteriously vanished from the face of our known world.
Our beautiful village was on the side of a gentle rise overlooking a vast plain and had truly undergone few changes in its history of un-countable generations. The area was but a short distance from a beautiful forest with much wildlife and a bounty of fruits and vegetables.
The trek to our food-gathering spot on the other side of our mountain was a full five-day hard walk, but had proved well worth the effort. Since our fellow villagers had gone missing, little had ever been mentioned or discussed at least in public of the incident.
Even in our sorrow, with the passage of time, the tragic disappearances were becoming more like a bad dream than the life altering and devastating situation we had recognized it to be at the time of its occurrence.
My father, being the shaman and highly respected spiritual leader of our people, had not only tried to console each individual familymember, but also grappled himself with the loss of my mother (his wife) and brother (his eldest son) to the extent that it had challenged his very beliefs and values. He had never stopped looking for the love of his life and precious first-born. It was tradition in our village that the shaman would teach his eldest son in the ways of spirituality to take the father’s role when his end came; as shaman he would serve as the intermediary between the spirit world and Earth.
The importance of his role was far beyond what most could even comprehend as all that believed it the sun and moon would rise and fall with his daily summons, chants and incantations. The changes in the weather, even the bounties of the plain and forest, were believed to be controlled by a higher power, but it was always the duty of the shaman himself to stay and keep the village in good graces with that power. It was a duty of importance that took total devotion.
I had not been born into that position or been prepared to take it on and Father had always believed his wife and first born son would someday return, and therefore, did not push me into training.
I saw myself as less suited to the job than my brother.I was not spiritually rebellious but tended to stray far to the fringes of the father’s beliefs, but tradition was all-powerful and, as in most religious circles, truth is often outweighed by one’s beliefs.Of course I had always been somewhat involved in and around the day-to-day training of my brother and naturally had the beliefs ingrained into my mind, but the rigorous daily expression and duty were left to my father and brother.
Many of my life’s experiences had been overlooked by most with the knowledge never reaching my father. I had taken it upon myself to train with the warriors and had grown strong and able-bodied, but carried the consciousness and character of my mother.
While I believed my life’s ambitions mattered to my mother, for the rest of the villagers, I was not a matter of any concern.
Even though she was the wife of the shaman of our tribe, my mother most definitely had a mind of her own. Her independent thinking even extended to her beliefs about the universe. At night, as we would gaze into its infinite depths, Mother would guiltily explain how she believed in her heart that the very essence of life did not so much revolve around daily events and trials, but the all encompassing universal connectedness of life.
We would spend hours lying under the stars talking and dreaming of traveling to what she believed were other worlds. She often suggested that those worlds looked upon the very same stars that we did and might even dream similar dreams. It was even possible, she said, that those other worlds might even view our world as a small speck in the sky. Her ideas were vastly different from those of my father and my older brother, both of whom spent their time working on the daily schedule of chores and tradition to maintain order for the good of the tribe.
As part of the custom and required ritual, Father had gone on the food gathering expeditions for the past three years, as it was believed the food had to be blessed regardless of its source to guarantee its replenishment for the next harvest.
This year, however, all in the village felt that I should be the one to go as rumors of numerous other disappearances from neighboring, outlying villages had been circulating.
Within our belief system, the loss of a shaman was inconceivable and would devastate the entire village.
I was put into a very rigorous and condensed traditional training, focusing mostly on the blessing rituals. The group that had been selected for the gathering would be leaving in only a few days.
The entire village felt it would rather chance an imperfect blessing rather than losing the shaman. To make up for any mistakes, Father, could bless the food upon our return, but all felt it risky, even foolhardy to allow him to leave the village area.
The rituals came very easily to me as I had listened to past lessons given my brother and also I had an unusually good memory, but at times Father and I would clash, especially when I would try to incorporate some of my mother’s ideas. They were not traditional, but my father would forgive me. He missed her too and recognized the spiritual wisdom she possessed.
On the morning we were to leave, the entire village assembled around the group. With me by his side, my father gave a blessing to the entire village, adding a special blessing for the food-gathering party, and even included an individual blessing foreach member. All knew and understood his somewhat lengthy and personal plea for the gods to go with and protect these special souls on their quest.
It had been decided to return to the area of four years earlier as it had proven over timeto produce a far better harvest of many varied edible plants that could be easily dried and stored for later use, but this would be the first time back to the same area from which most believed the villagers had disappeared.
The man who had been designated group leader was the oldest and also the only person with us who had been to the food-gathering place before. As we approached the area, a sinister and ominous attitude dominated all. As we crested the mountaintop, we could see far to the horizon.It was as if we were looking to the ends of the earth.
The view was no less than spectacular. From where we stood, down to the distant valley floor and out to the water’s edge, all we could see were tree tops, and then the water itself, which had to be explained to us as the vastness seemed to extend to the end of the earth.Our entire group was composed of young men, all of who had never seen or dreamt of such visions.
From our peak, we could see that three mountains encircling the valley, with the water extending out to infinity at its end.As the leader surveyed the awesome view with a very critical eye, a smile crossed his face and an obvious sigh of relief was heard.As I stood gazing into this new world, a tear formed in my eyes as Mother came into my thoughts.
I remembered how we had talked and pondered the splendor of new worlds and the excitement I would feel as we dreamed dreams that would take us to extraordinary and bazaar places. And here I was, entering one. I couldn’t wait to get to the water’s edge.
Gathering up our gear, we headed down the mountain. As we moved down through the forest, the leader pointed to fruits and edible plants and all began to collect the abundance into the baskets and other means that had been brought for carrying it back to the village.
There were 44 of us in all, including 42 to take care of the harvest, the leader, and myself, whose job it was to bless the entire forest and then each basket as it was brought into the collection area. The ones gathering ranged in age from 14 to 23. The leader was much older; I thought him to be about 60, and I, having reached my 17th year, had become an independent thinker, and aware, with my impending food-blessing roll, of my awesome responsibility.
The gatherers spread out into the forest, filling their containers and bringing them back to a central point. From there, the food would be arranged and temporarily stored while the group moved on to another area.
Eventually, all the food would be gathered as the group made its way back for the return trip home.
The long, tedious hours seemed to drag as the days slowly crept by. The ones collecting were working very hard and at days end, would quickly eat then fall asleep till morning light and the procedure would start again.
The leader also would retire with the others as he too was putting in a full day planning and scouting for the next day’s work area.
I knew we had at best two more days of gathering before returning, as it would be impossible to carry all that had been gathered back.
I also was sure there was no way the leader was taking us all the way to the water; that could prove dangerous and put our group at risk.
As I lay on the blanket that my mother had made for me, I could see the stars through the trees and again my mind began to wander. I thought about my mother and the exciting travel through space we had envisioned. My heart pounded with excitement.I raised my head and noticed all the others were fast asleep. Inspired by my thoughts, I slowly rose and quickly but silently disappeared into the dense forest. My blood raged through my veins and I felt a bit dizzy, but there was no stopping me now.I truly was on my way to the unknown.
As I ran through the trees, Iwas aware that the moon had been traveling across the sky, and I had been hurrying away from the group for several hours. A slight twinge of fear darted through my mind, but the excitement pushed me on. I stopped when I reached the forest edge.
A few steps more and I could feel the sand under my feet. The sensation was extraordinary.I stood and looked up at my dearest friends: the stars, and knew my mother was standing next to me smiling. Tears welled up in my eyes. It was as though my mind had been so caught up in itself that the outside world had disappeared.
Suddenly a roar, like I had never before heard, filled my awareness. The sound seemed to be coming from just beyond a rise in the sand.
I took a deep breath to calm myself before starting up the hillside, but the climb was made difficult as I slid with each step in the sand. Soon I found myself crawling on my knees, and eventually, crested the hill.
As I looked at what stretched out in front of me, it was difficult to focus my mind; still I heard the sound of the crushing roar. In my eagerness to find the source of the sound, I ran down the hill of sand to the water’s edge and stopped.
Looking out over the water, I could see the moon was actually going down into it and thought of my father. I considered his daily rituals and asked myself: Where did the moon go? I thought: This is far stranger than I had imagined.
I turned back in the direction I had come. All but the top of the mountain was blocked from view by the hill of sand, but above that there was just a hint of a glow in the sky. I knew that back in the village, my father was already beginning his ritual of beseeching the gods for another day of light.
I quickly turned to see the moon’s last shimmering glow on the water, and then I looked back to the top of the mountain. It was from that vantage point, I remembered, I could see the entire world, what a glorious place.
Turning my head down the shoreline, I became aware that the mountainsideactually met the water’s edge and began walking toward it.
The roaring sound grew louder as I neared, where I discovered, to my delight, that the sound was made by the turbulence of the water as it cascaded from the precipice, creating a stunning waterfall.
As I climbed up onto the rocks, I could feel the spray of the water; it was exhilarating. As I clambered to a higher rock, I took stock of the landscape: before me was what appeared to be the aftermath of a landslide, which had sectioned off the sand area, and I was looking down an endless expanse of shoreline.
With excitement raging through my body, I was sure no man had ever seen this place before. As I took in the sight, I began to notice movement, and as I focused more intently, I began to see footprints in the sand. The prints progressed from the beach into the forest.
Disappointed at first to discover I was not the first to visit the view, my curiosity got the best of me and I began to ponder who might have made the prints.

As I contemplated these thoughts, it also occurred to me that the group would be preparing for the day’s work ahead and, by now, most certainly would be wondering where I was, My thoughts were on leaving when, once again, I saw movement. Scrambling down the rocky hill, I worked, first without caution, but then at a slower pace, until I reached a discreet spot from which, unseen, I could see and hear the source of the movement.
They were a kind of people!I watched their every movement and sound in amazement. Some were so very strange looking and yet familiar too. A most distinct difference was their skin; it was so white.
I looked out at the water to the rather large floating vessel that had apparently brought them, from where I could not know. Aboard the vessel that was now moving away from the beach, I could see more of the strange people, and others like me. Back on the beach, there was another group of people like me, but they were huddled tightly together, and surrounded by the strange white men. I watched in silence as the vessel moved further away and toward where the moon itself had gone down.
My mind tried to make sense of it. Could these beings have come from the moon? Would they, like the moon, fly across the sky each night, beckoned by my father’s evening rituals?
An overwhelming desire to fly with them seemed to seize my entire body and mind. The urge was reminiscent of that which I had known when dreaming with my mother.
I wanted to go with them so badly that tears came to my eyes. Any feelings of apprehension, trepidation, anxiety or fear left me.
Slowly, I rose from the sand and advanced toward the group that was now sitting on the beach. As I approached, my eyes avoided the white, moon travelers as I felt myself unworthy of their enlightenment.
How I wished I’d paid more attention to my father’s rituals. Perhaps then, I would know better how to communicate and gain their trust.
Momentarily, there came a loud yelling from the whites and they all began to run toward me. I stopped and smiled then fell to my knees.
Soon there were several white beings standing around me. Still in a somewhat dazed frame of mind, I rose to greet them as I marveled at them. I had never seen such white and beautiful beings before and yet they appeared so much like myself.
As I rose, a searing pain slammed through my body as something hit me from behind, violently smashing into my side just under my right armpit. Innocent and unaware, I tried again to stand, but was kicked to the ground by the white one standing beside me.
As I looked around I saw most of the black individuals were on the ground, tightly bound with ropes or another device. Some were bound byboth.
Two of the beings were speaking very gruffly and apparently to me, but I could not understand them. One of them kicked me very hard on the side of my leg.
“Why are these whites acting so offensive and unkind?” Are they so very different from us?”I asked my bound kinsmen, but they seemedunable to answer.
Soon, an apparent older individual, as even his hair was very white, was standing next to me. I thought he might possibly be a spirit being from the moon, and perhaps the moon was our final destination.
He grabbed my chin and, without any concern for my well being, jerked my head up just as two of the other men standing behind me pulled me to my feet. I wondered in vain, what had I done?
Both Father and Mother had said that our ancestors were always looking out for us, to help and guide us andperhaps make our daily lives less stressful than their own. Clearly, if that was true, these beings were not our ancestors.
The white beings continued with their harsh handling of me; they screamed and pushed, and at one point even spat at me, and I could not understand why. Eventually, one placed a noose around my neck, making it apparent that I, like my brethren, was their prisoner. I was made to join the circle of prisoners and as I watched my captors, creatures whom I had a moment ago admired, it became obvious to me that they liked being cruel: perhaps not to all of God’s creatures, but certainly to us.
As I quietly pondered our untenable situation, I noted the passage of time. The morning was gone, and now, with the sun at its height, the vessel that had formerly been anchored off shore, made its way inland and several whites moved towards us, beckoning with all their harshness, that we should board. Once all were secured upon the vessel, the whites, again in their strange language, called to one another, and we headed out to open waters.
As we progressed further and further from shore, I felt both excitement and trepidation.Indeed, I wanted to travel to the stars but I also wanted to be treated in such a way that would allow me, once there, to live and enjoy them.
Mother had always said that she believed we lived countless lives and even perhaps in numerous places. As I guardedly watched the shoreline grow more distant, I could also see the sandy area I had first come upon from the forest. I focused hard, hopeful to see my companions coming after me.
As we sailed, there had been a constant poking and prodding from our captors, but now the sound of raised voices turned my focus back toward the open sea. Soon I could see the cause of the commotion: it was a large vessel, much larger than the one in which we were currently traveling.
This one looked capable of making a most extensive journey. I’d never seen anything like it. To me, this new structure looked like a great, floating, village. It was so vast, I could barely see from one end to the other. Much like the floating vessel was vast, so too was the water, which stretched endlessly to the horizon.
Just as I was able to grasp these images, more yelling and cruelty prevailed as the black men were being herded onto the larger boat. Many did not appear willing to go, but I, still curious, moved forward hastily. Once aboard, I was struck brutally with a whip and then stuffed forcibly into a lower level of the ship.
Inside the ship’s hold where I remained impossibly confused, I began to withdraw from the whole situation.
As I withdrew, I thanked my gods for keeping my mind stable, as I alone would surely have foughtback. As a means of comfort, I huddled into a corner, apart from the others; I was very much alone, as I could not understand those even of my own kind.
I pondered: Do I perhaps have a greater path to walk in this life than that of which I had ever dreamed while back in my village?I recalled a lesson taught by my father that I had until now never fully understood. He said, “The life each of us live is but the pathway for the soul and where it may lead.“Our ever living soul knows its goal from before it appeared as each of us.
The apparent infinite universe we see is not large to the soul; it is but our playground. The soul can not be killed, nor will it ever die, for it is beyond even what the mind can conceive,” he said.
I must have blocked out most of my conscious thought, for I truly cannot account for the next period of time, although it was substantial, for my body was beaten and bruised, and had become much thinner.
Still physically strong my understanding of what was happening was beyond my comprehension. My thoughts turned to my fellow tribesmen who I assumed were still going about their mission of gathering food, or had my disappearance now again stopped the food gathering because of my foolishness.
Many days passed. I could tell this from the passage of daylight and night. I began to look forward for the darkness, as it would offer some escape as I drifted into my own private world of dreams. My dreams offered an escape from the harshness of my situation to a peaceful, loving place. Finally, a day arrived when my fellow black men and I were tied together and removed from the ship.This was indeed a strange and different place. The weather was cloudy with a hard, cold rain beating down on us.Never had I seen or felt such cold or been in such an unfriendly-feeling place.
One of the white beings was walking down the line of strong, black men and women, sneering at all and hitting others with a strange looking club. He was one of the first whites I had seen those many days before. As he approached, it appeared as though he might spit on me again.
An overwhelming, surging rage seized my body and mind.
It was beyond conscious control; it was a feeling like I had never before felt and my free arm lashed out. Fueled by the anguish of the ghastly journey and my current situation, I clenched my fist and drove it straight into the man’s face.His body went limp and collapsed to the ground.
From a distance another of the whites, club in hand, responded to aid his fallen comrade. Hewas pointing something directly at me. I saw fire shoot from its end...
Awareness never left my consciousness, but it was as though I had been instantly transported to a totally different place, and the continuity of time seemed disrupted.
My situation seemed foreign. The rain must have suddenly stopped and the sun came out. It was warm, bright and beautiful. Had I been dreaming all the terrible actions of the last several days?
I realized there was a different type of being all around me now. There was no appearance of color or race. They all were beautiful with a look of serenity and love. I could see, as well as feel, the love. I turned in a circle so that I could see my surroundings.
There, also surrounded by beings, was the man that I had just hit and assuredly killed. He was on his knees and it appeared that tears were coming from his eyes.
As those around me began guiding me away, I could see the man being lifted gently and lovingly to his feet. He looked up, catching my direct gaze eye-to-eye.
We could not look away and neither of us seemed compelled to do so. Where were we? Was this the great beyond? Could it truly be that all that has been said, speculated upon, or even ostensibly divinely ordained was true?Not just wishful hopes and dreams?
There was a very tender tug at my arm and I turned, there in front of me was the face of my mother. Tears filled my eyes as I reached out to embrace her.
At this pointI was some what aware that the true conditions of the physical did not totally apply, but there was still a reality that my mind was accustom to and continued with on less then absolute desire to again touch my mother.
Whether I spoke or just consciously within my mind desired to hear my mothers voice I was not sure and I called out to her.
Mother, Mother I have missed you so. I am so glad youare here now with me,” I said.Yes my son; we are together again and soon you will understand just where we are. Life is so much more then we had ever imagined in any of our fanciful journeys to the stars. It truly is infinite,” she said.Come with us and you will see what life truly and genuinely holds,” she added.
As I looked around, there were several other apparent beings surrounding me in close proximity, but only Mother was closest to my side as she took my hand.
Quietly, she led me to a place that reminded me of a warm, peaceful meadow. It seemed that I was the only one there. For a split second, a shiver ran up my spine. What was happening? Then again there was a touch on my arm and I was in a room that seemed to be constructed of or engulfed in clouds.
Other being also were sitting around with my mother, but she now sat close beside me. These beings that accompanied my mother were beautiful and of no apparent race or gender and they did not appear solid or touchable. I looked at Mother again and realized she to appeared as the others. Only her face was truly recognizable to me.I could feel a tear in my eye as I struggled to understand perhaps only a portion of was taking place.
Suddenly, I had an overwhelming feeling of peaceful love and fuzzy warmth that seemed to came from the very depth of my being.
I wondered: Who were these beings? Even the one I felt, as my mother was very different from the whites I had just previously encountered, these were all loving and helpful.
In my mind, I heard: “You have come back here, to this place, at this time, of your own free will. What you might remember as your life was but the manifestation of your thoughts. That dream is now gone; you now are in a much higher place.
Certainly, you will know that is true as more memories return, and they will, you will understand this better.” Confused, I called out: “Wait a minute, where is here?”

Here was a response: “Here, is a point of consciousness that you will better understand as your memories begin to take charge of your conscious awareness. You will be able to move back in your memory as far as you wish.
You may choose to reassess and evaluate to some degree a multitude of diverse manifestations and you will soon become aware of an infinite number of past lives.”
Past lives, said I, “you’re saying I died? I never got a chance to live the one I had.
There came another response: “Sometimes they are seemingly cut short, but that is never the case, the choice is always made by the individual, never forced or predestined.
Some past lives will be the exact opposite of the one previous. As you travel through them, you will become more aware of these periods of physical existence. You and you alone will decide what to do in your infinite stroll through the physical cosmos.”
With that, my mind was completely mystified. I was handed what appeared to be a reflective device and asked to look upon it. I was shocked by my image: I am a young man. Is this me? This face is white!”
Again, the soft voice came welling up from within my mind, filling it nearly to a point of blocking all other thought.
“You were white,” it said. “No, I am black,” but deep within my memory is telling me that this is a part of my past.”
My mental consciousness was urgently trying to grasp what was unfolding.I was beginning to recognize that perhaps I had had pastlives.
A past life, my individual consciousness was racing now that I had partly broken through the barrier that had kept me from understanding that there was no race or gender.
As if magic, my situation changed again. I found myself looking into a clear stream of water, gently caressing the small stones at the bottom; a small smile broke across the edges of my lips. I now had the red skin color of an Indian!
I sat back on the warm bank with my mind racing, moving in thought from one physical manifestation to another, tears filled my eyes as I began to weep.
Again, I was back in the cloud room. I felt as though I was ashamed of being human at times as some of my memories were frightening and sad.
I was black. I was white. I had been a red and yellow. Those were but a very few physical appearances and forms I had taken. From the perspective of composition, I was not all that different then any living thing. They all were manifestations of individual consciousness.
There was no need for tears, but they were still there because I now understood that as our souls go through their stages of existence, with each stage representing many paths and situations, they grow, and they make choices, but still I wondered what was it’s final goal?
I considered the answer: could it be that in order to deal with our current situation, we react to it with distrust, as though it could hurt us, when instead, we should be embracing a loving consciousness that resides deep within?
Embracing this idea as the real truth, I dried my tears, basking in the knowledge that life is infinite, endless, everlasting, eternal, whichever word one chooses, the message is the same: life supersedes time. In fact, there is no such thing outside of the physical realm as time.
My experiences in the cloud room had begun to make this clear to me and as I felt this new enlightenment, my mother and her other-worldly friends, still by my side, began to make more of their thoughts clear to me.
“We feel you came back for a reason as you were quite young in the physical dimension. “But we believe you are unsure of why you chose this, and what your next choice should be.
We will help you in any way that we can.”Even as they said this, I felt as though my mind was not completely in my control.
“Why are you welled up in my mind?Without hesitation, there was an answer as clear as any I ever heard.
“We have joined our thoughts with yours,” they said. “We have done this to make it clear to you that you are not alone, ever, that we are one, and together, we are all part of one creative source.”
As they spoke, I came to understand the mis-interpretation of life that I had come to believe on the physical plane. I began to understand that valuing individuality, rather than seeing myself as a miniscule part of the whole, was a terrible misconception that was leading me away from my true calling: that of becoming connected and joined to the collective consciousness of the one true mind.
The beings continued: “The infinite and the physical are not one and the same; there is in fact no physical only a manifestation in the mind.”
“So what I do doesn't matter then, right?”
They responded: Everything matters. Everything we do comes from mind, and it is realizing this that serves as proof that you can not blame your choices on others, or outside sources. We decide where we are, the color of our skin, the situation we are in, as well as how long we will remain in that situation as you have just done.”
“Is there a reason that each of us try so very hard to achieve at least one small thing when in the physical?”
They responded: It seems that we lose that absolute oneness with the realization of our true being and we forget that we can do nothing of ourselves. The power that is within, the true power of what we are, does everything.
Now when, as very forgetful humans, we may choose to do things that are far from the love that make up our beings, but that does not change the fact that the One power is, in truth, making all things possible.
We continue to struggle and slave to accomplish that one small recognizable item we may claim as our own when in truth nothing manifested in the physical is real, but only the ongoing experiences of Mind.
Do you understand?Everything is done, accomplished, created or achieved because of the power that is within each and every one of us. That is what each and every one of us is.
Can you imagine what that power within you can accomplish if it were working on your true goal of the soul?
When as human, it is said, one could move a mountain if only they had the faith of a mustard seed. If they only realized they were working with the infinite power of the universe to achieve it.
When they as individuals do finally understand who and what they are, all of creation is in their hands and nothing of this earth can touch them. And they will then recognize that they are on the earth, but not of it, for then they will know that they are spiritual beings born of the infinite power that created the cosmos.”
As the infinite source continued to flow through my mind, the ideas that I now adopted as truth imprinted upon it. As I became more enlightened, I knew these truths were ideas that I had always known, but had set aside while I was on the physical plane. The voice of the beings was also my voice. We had become one.
Limitations in understanding I had set for myself had melted away and I again felt as though I had the power of understanding and the enlightenment of the whole.
“What am I to do now?” I asked. “As the song goes: Red, Yellow, Black and White all are precious in his sight.”I have been the slave, the slave owner, the healer, the killer, and the preacher. I have known the god of the villagers. I have been a Baptist, a Buddhist, and a born again.
Is there a reason for any of it? But seeing them now, they are all religions and God is not religion; there is only One Spirit and that One includes all.
I feel I must return to the physical plane for there are things my individual soul wants to experience,” I said. “But I do not know what form I should assume or even at what point in time I should re-enter. Better understanding now my roll within the infinite, all fear or apprehension was gone.When we decide to return is it as though we shut our eyes and toss the dice?”
The beings replied again: “Perhaps to a degree, otherwise the apparent physical existence would be near preordained and the absolute of choice would be diminished. As a human, one perceives time and tomorrow, but there truly is no tomorrow because in a state of infinite, time cannot exist, and in an infinite state the terms ‘I AM’ and ‘GOD IS’ are synonymous.
Understanding what has been told you is not necessary to make it truth. When you allow your mind to be still and listen for this conversation that has just now taken place, you as well as each and every person, can and will hear that voice within them. It never stops speaking and showing the way. It has been said, many times and in many ways, the way is narrow and the path straight.
This language is correct, but the meaning has been changed to suit the goals of an individual or doctrine. What was said was for each to walk their straight and narrow, listening for that inner voice and let it guide.
For the many who struggle to hear, I say, be still, and you will hear, and your way will be straight and effortless.”
At that point I again decided to rejoin the physical experience.
There was a cold chilling scream in the dark, miserable, damp alley, as a young, beautiful, but desperate women gave birth.
She was alone and afraid, and called out: “I don't need this!” Sobbing, she asked: “Why God? I don't even know the father.What a mistake my life has been and now this new baby girl. Of what use will she ever be. What chance will she have for a good life?”
The young woman looked up and down the disgusting alley. She saw no one. With loving care, she wrapped the baby in her light jacket, tears streaming down her face. Then, with shaking hands and a pounding heart, she tenderly placed the bundle on top of a box in the dumpster.
“Goodbye my baby. I do love you, but I am sending you back to a far better place than I can ever give you.
I am sorry, but I know God will take better care of you than I.Forgive me, my baby. Please God take my baby if it is meant to be.”
“Well God,” said I, “I guess I'll be right back.”
“Didn't you listen to our talk?The multi-being voice of God said. “You have already separated yourself from me. There is no ‘you’ and God. There is onlythe one. I am in this dumpster with you, individualized as you, not you and me.”
“I am trying to listen God,” I said, “just as if I were still in the cloud room. What can I do?”
Such a wailing had never before been heard in that narrow area of this planet, the alley, with its building wallstowering far, far up toward the beautiful clear sky. The sound bounced off the walls and echoed from building to building like in a large valley, as she, the newborn, was very much within the valley of the shadow of death.
The individualized soul of God was, in fact, wanting to manifest as this individual or she would have never come to be.
She knew then, what we all deep down know: that we all are created in this dimension as instruments of the one with no other purpose except to experience.
There is a reason, it was said, not mine, but thine be done. When we get in the way, the way no longer remains so straight.
The lessons of my travels, which are now encapsulated in my new form of baby girl, are these: never think that we should be born on a church pew, then live our lives within that church. Life is in the living.The good, the bad, what we must never lose is the knowing of the infinite source of all things, seen and unseen, is what sustains us from within our very being, it is what we are.
WillI, as this person, become a great teacher, a doctor, or perhaps less then what some may see as ideal.I do not know. This person is God and I, and we are no less than the individualized I am. I now believe that in our collective recognition of this fact is what changes our lives, there will be pitfalls and bumps, mountains as well as seeming abysses, but our paths will be straight, as the final destination never varies.

Time cannot change the Infinite.
There is only The ONE
There is nothing else!!!!
We continue!

© Copyright 2020 Ken the Carpenter. All rights reserved.

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