(I’m still snowed in, and quite happy with my snowed in obligations as well. Of course, the light on the laptop winks at the bulb above my head, and suddenly I find myself tap, tap, tapping away again at the 70-page essay describing my experiences and interactions during my 700-mile pilgrimage from Spain to Portugal. The following section is another piece of my “Living Camino” puzzle….)
***** Cliff of Consciousness
Having spent too much of my day frolicking in the water of a river and its frothy falls, the descent of the sun and the dawn of night sneak upon me. There is no pilgrim hostel in town, so I set up my tent on the river bank and lay out my sleeping bag under the onset of stars.
The moon rises to my attention, and I am saturated in her serenity. At first I am only enveloped in the peace of the darkness that surrounds us both, but then a cold hand of urgency reaches out from the light in the sky and grabs onto the collar of my consciousness.
The crudeness of the questions that begin to race my mind in endless and directionless spirals, suddenly grabs and contorts my mental perspective into positions it squirms about. I want to turn away, to shake the whole thing off, to deny the overwhelming realization of my place in space that the Moon has just positioned me. But I looked too long. And the moon has caught me in my fall off the cliff of consciousness. The moon speaks to me. And only when she has exhausted herself does she let go of her grip and toss me back down to my tent.
I scramble to my flashlight and take up my pen to translate her message;
Seek
For I am the Unconscious and I hold the mysteries of your being.
I come to you every night, and yet you hardly pay me notice. When you look at me too long, you are directly confronted with the questions that your day-lit hours burry under routine and rationality. You may turn your attention temporarily, and even ignore my existence. But within me you know, that as I do the oceans, I also influence the tides of every minute of your waking and walking existence.
Do not fear the darkness that surrounds me, for space must always be traversed blindly to test the strength of those that seek. And my beam lights the channel to the source of the Creative for all those that allow their gaze and questions to rest upon me. Seek within me. For down my hallways exist the doors to all levels of consciousness. And behind these doors are the mysteries of your being:
Some of the doors you have requested to remain shut. Their keys will one day be returned to you. But for now they are in safe keeping and are not of concern to your current path.
Some of the doors are open, but you think they are shut. The essence of what exists here wafts down the hallways of the both the waking and walking worlds. Your sense the draft, but you are not sure of the source. This draft may be cold. And it is part of your path to find the doors that are already open, so that they may be truthfully closed and their drafts upon your existence finally extinguished.
Some of the doors are locked until you find the key. You may or may not already hold these keys. But you will recognize immediately when you come to find one. The keys sparkle. They chime in your heart each time you come close to a new door of awareness. The keys make your heart leap, your fingers tingle and the hair of your skin stand on end. To own a key is to know nothing of the door that it opens. The key is only the instant of recognition, your first clue, that a new door exists and that it is now part of your path to find it. The keys lay hidden within both your waking and walking worlds, eagerly awaiting your discovery, and will grant you access to all the doors of your Inner Mystery.
Some of the doors open directly to the Hall of History. Here exists the wall where the story of All is written. This wall is infinite in its dimensions of length and time. As well, there are an infinite number of doors to this hall, but each is limited in its vision to a proportionate piece of the wall. Every being has a key and a door to this wall. And only when every key is found, and every door opened, will the understanding of the Wall in its entirety be seen. Finding your key and your door are difficult tasks. And the wall does not have answers. To witness it, is only to fall in awe of the Question.
You have always had access to the Hall of the Unconscious. Every single night of your Life, with the rising of the moon, a door to this Hall is opened. Every morning you are presented with the choice to ignore or accept the invitation to play with, seek within, and learn from, the messages received from this realm.
Do not avoid or fear this realm because my invitation and messages are communicated in a language foreign to that which you are accustomed. Although it may appear odd or unfamiliar, in fact, it is exactly your vocabulary of life experiences with which I use to speak to you. For although my natural tongue is the same of that which is written upon the Wall of History, I know that you can not yet comprehend this language. So I present to you my message from the alphabet of your life experiences; the pictures, words, symbols and archetypes you have yet come to know and have added to your dictionary of Living. And so then, I piece these images together to present to you exactly the messages and keys that you seek. Read with an open mind, for I can be crafty and witty in delivery. My responsibility ends here. I wrap your messages in code and set these gifts at the foot of your tree of consciousness. It is your job to use your own understanding of your life images and experiences, to decipher the codes, unwrap the packages, and delight in the surprise of your new insight.
The Unconscious is not an abyss; It is a playground of the Creative. Explore my Halls, discover your keys, excite in the adventure, and delight in the insights.
Seek within me, the Unconscious — and you shall unlock all the doors to your Inner Mystery.
And each time that you see the Moon, be reminded to seek.
I put down my pen and allow my own exhaustion to set in.
I lay my head down on the matted grass and, with one eye, glance lazily at the night sky. The stars mockingly mimic me with winks of welcome as the darkness of night awaits my fall into the Unconscious with soft, cupped hands. I close both eyes, blindly traverse a long dark hallway, stumble into what feels like a door, reach for the knob and step off the cliff of consciousness.
