There are places unheard of. And they are all with nary a mark on them that may not enable you to trace them on a map. And those who nevertheless go there undergo a long exercise of rehabilitation before being able to get those unheard places.
And those who go there to be reborn must get there solely and compulsorily via a long swerve, that starts a long time before they realize that swerving.
That swerve begins as a breaking point in your life, a bolt of lightning which scores a direct hit on you. That it is an unassimilable spiritual earthquake not every person can cope with, as a result of which people may slip into insanity if they are not strong and solid as cliffs against the waves coming from the sea.
In the beginning, when you realize that you are swerving, you gasps out "Me? Why?". You cannot believe that you are not like the others. That you are different.
It is an inescapable somersault from one state into another, that swerve.
You have thought you were happily borne, and happily, you thought, you were dragged your way - down the long and crooked streets of your lives, past all kinds of walls and fences made of glittering illusions. You never gave a thought to what lies behind that bright apparent reality. You have never tried to penetrate it with your vision or your understanding. Until that day, when a gentle but one-way hand started pushing you into another path.
And those who go there to be reborn must get there solely and compulsorily via a long swerve, that starts a long time before they realize that swerving.
That swerve begins as a breaking point in your life, a bolt of lightning which scores a direct hit on you. That it is an unassimilable spiritual earthquake not every person can cope with, as a result of which people may slip into insanity if they are not strong and solid as cliffs against the waves coming from the sea.
In the beginning, when you realize that you are swerving, you gasps out "Me? Why?". You cannot believe that you are not like the others. That you are different.
It is an inescapable somersault from one state into another, that swerve.
You have thought you were happily borne, and happily, you thought, you were dragged your way - down the long and crooked streets of your lives, past all kinds of walls and fences made of glittering illusions. You never gave a thought to what lies behind that bright apparent reality. You have never tried to penetrate it with your vision or your understanding. Until that day, when a gentle but one-way hand started pushing you into another path.
And your past life, is
slammed shut once and for all.
It is like being arrested. But arrested by whom?
By a voice, that can be your consciousness or a new but old faith.
That is why you'll find nothing better to respond with than a lamblike
bleat: "Me? Why?".
But that will be your last bleat, because that swerve will bring you into a new status and nature. You will lose the nature of the sheep and acquire the nature of the wolf, the day that the path begins.
Et tenebrae lux
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