Visions of Reality BLOG
The Long Walk
Death, loss and finding beauty in the missing...
Death is as much a part of life as is life itself, yet, even when it is expected, it is often accompanied by such a deep sense of denial that many tactics are employed to avoid sinking into the abyss that goes hand in hand with endless missing. But what if this wasn't the case? What if the ending of life in one was embraced by another whose destiny it is, to grieve? Might that return a different experience of loss? And, might it present a whole new perspective on life?
To be fully present with the end. To not rush into a new beginning before the end has echoed its finale, or to wish anything to be other than it is, is to straddled the timelines - what was, what is, and what is yet to be - and to experience them as one and the same, in Presence. Merging of reality timelines means that disparate events in life suddenly have meaning, and when all the dots are joined a remarkable vision of wholeness emerges. Dot-joining, and the cycles they create, make the continuum of consciousness visible and from that 'bigger picture' perspective life begins to make sense; death, makes sense.
The theme running through this blog is, ‘Continuum’. It delves into the subtle-in-between, the great cycle of life, death, and rebirth, to present a vision of new life, or a new way of being in the world. An illustrated story in which events, thoughts and feelings, straddle the timelines, exposes the large within the small, the whole inside the part, and brings the spiral to its point of origin, where love is its only expression. Travelling backwards and forwards through time, from one life experience to another, it returns an outcome other than what was at first believed. Whether death is encountered as a physical passing, end of a relationship, or change in a way of being, is irrelevant, the circumstances are the same, as is the outcome. How you deal with it is down to you. As you read on, remember this…
“Time changes not, but all things change in time”
'The Key of Time'. The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean.
Translated by Doreal.
The Long Walk
In another time, in another space, she had sat on this same bench with her faithful companion by her side. Together, each in their own way, they had savoured the richness of their friendship and bathed in the joy of completeness. In this time outside of time, with barely a hint of regret, they knew also the inevitability of their parting. For that which is birthed through time will at some point pass from time. Such as it is.
Today she was alone.
Completeness, on this day of all days, was tinged with a less savoury flavour. For today, companionship gave rise to missing; real missing. And on this day, in the rising of missing… fullness was born.
Esmerelda sighed. Echoes of the past returned to fill her heart with times long since gone. Visions appeared, stories and companions became more real, more present, more whole, than the path upon which she now walked. More precious than the air that filled her lungs or tears that moistened her eyes, yet failed to kiss her cheeks, and more alive than those she greeted with a smile in the polite passing of day, they filled her heart with gratitude for the rich reward only death in its mastery can provide.
One foot before the other, from one beat of her heart to the next, she allowed all that once was space to be present. Moment by moment all sense of loss at their absence was gone. Alongside the canal her pace altered. Slowly, rhythmically, each step aligned with the beat of an inner drum, and in the passage of time the all-too-familiar canal path returned a changing reality.
Timelines shifted. She shifted.
Another place in another time a Queen was laid to rest. More than nine decades of life in service brought to its inevitable conclusion, her death heralded a lifetime of remembrance, not only for Esmerelda, but for the nation. In sacred ceremony, the queens family and the nation mourned, whilst the world looked on. Three services, three churches, three silent vigils, marked the long goodbye. And in the unseen in-between an endless road granted passage to all who mourned.
Timelines shifted.
The canal path became the ‘long walk’ at Windsor; the long walk was the canal path, then the path returned once more to the long walk. And so it continued, each reality painting itself as the other, in a most beguiling dance of remembrance. Inside these parallel timelines a strange juxtaposition arose wherein personal and collective moved as one. Her body remembered the march. Her steps fell easily into line with those of the soldiers. And an inner drum, dictating the timing of all, struck an identical beat to that of the ceremonial drums. Esmerelda smiled as wonderment took the place of despair. Once again her heart enjoyed the freedom of youth, relished the sense of belonging that came part and parcel with a forces life, and remembered companions, soul companions, who had given of their all throughout her life’s journey.
*Creative commons license. Copyright John C. Karnes
In reverence, she walked onwards. Straddling the timelines, present in this world, yet not. And as the past became one with the present, as the end faced its beginning, death bestowed its greatest gift.
A train of presences...
It was a most natural occurrence. Silently, reverently they came, a train of presences, animal presences, to be with her as she surrendered all resistance to the drum. Those who had graced her life, no longer present on this physical plane, were there. Those who had been beside her when she drowned in sorrow, lost and alone. Those who loved her still. Those who, throughout her life’s journey, had sustained her, loved her unconditionally, and filled her, body, heart and soul, with joy. Lifetimes of companions, friends to the soul, all were there. Esmerelda’s heart swelled in gratitude. Drawing into her heart love from every friend to the soul throughout all time, animal, human and other-worldly beings, seen and unseen, she walked on in gratitude. Step by reverent step, her companions fell into line alongside, and behind… showing her they had never left... And then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone...
All identities, memories, and entanglements, spontaneously merged with the one who walked. Every individual, regardless of form, along with any sense of being separate, became the all-encompassing, fullness of Presence. She paused for a moment, savouring the stillness, turning her senses inwards to listen. Now silent, the drumbeat remained… posing as one who walked… alone…
The great wheel turned upon command of the mighty drum… Primed to follow its purpose... it set the cause in motion… A cause oddly familiar… yet different somehow…
Again, timelines shifted.
Another death... another passing…The picture was different… the one who passed was different... yet the occasion of the passing was, in a familiar sense, the same. She’d passed this way before… knew well the ways of death… but now
she was different… Her heart no longer drowned in sorrow nor suffered the pain of loss… Now, it experienced beauty in the missing… cherished its gift... and embraced its presence... Now she was different… now there was beauty in the missing...
And so… the mighty drum beats...
and the great wheel turns…
In another time... in another place
"She’d passed this way before but on this day it was different somehow. Strolling across its forgiving landscape, she touched the earth with gentleness and revelled in her sacred beauty. In this place was history in the making, stories for the hearing and mystery for the unravelling. Familiarity gave way to inner vision. She saw the land awash with fire, yet not a blade of grass was harmed, she felt the frozen wastes of time as her heart, encased in ice, could only dream again of spring and, in the quiet of an early dawn, as autumn mists gave up their dead, she felt the ground bear testament to every passing… to her passing. Yes, the picture was different… it was different because she was different. Extremes of fire and ice no longer pulled her this way or that… no longer scorched her skin or ground her bones to dust… no more did her heart drown in despair… Now she was different…” Walk the Rainbow: Live the Way of Wholeness. p232
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