by R. D Rhodes
I didn’t want to walk too far, so instead I wandered the ten yards down the hill to the oak tree I loved so much. The one I had thought was watching me when Harry was still there, and thought was sucking up my negativity. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I said silently, as I stopped before it.
Good morning! You’re very welcome. But this is you. You have earned this, and worked for this, and sought it out. We just met you halfway. You’re a vacuum.
That last word resonated with me, but I didn’t even know what vacuum meant. Vacuum packed? Vacuum sealed? Then I thought of vacuum hoovers that just suck up and absorb everything. So that is what I am doing? It was amazing to think that had been said, or was in a part of my subconscious.
Harry’s fine. Don’t worry. He has some things he needs to do.
I hadn’t even been thinking of him, really. It was the third full day he’d been gone. But being there, feeling what I was, I didn’t feel lonely and didn’t miss him too much. I just wanted him to be okay.
What is he doing? I asked the tree.
Family things.
Oh, I thought.
Have a seat. Close your eyes. Sit with me. The tree said.
I sat down in the soft moss, and I looked at the tree one last time, then gently closed my eyes.
Eat frugally. Live frugally. Simplify. Simplify. Simplify, was in my head.
I breathed the wind in through my nose, and out through my mouth, letting go of the noise in my head. A reminder of my meditation at the hospital flickered before me, but I let it pass away.
I kept my eyes closed. I focused on my breath. The wind hushed louder…
I was before a field, a yellow oat field, in my imagination. There was a gate before me, and I opened it and stepped through.
The oat sticks came up to my waist as I trekked up the incline of a hill, then at its top, I came to a little river on my right, with beautiful, colourful trees on my left. Except I wasn’t walking, or trekking, I didn’t take steps, and I observed that I must have been floating, slightly above the ground.
I floated along the path under the branches, till I came to an old, little stone bridge that crossed the river. I waited on the bridge and looked down at the running water, seeing images of all the river connotations- tides, erosions, the sea, the fish- express themselves in front of me. Then I crossed over to the long stone wall at the other side.
The wall stood way above my head, about sixteen feet high, and I walked along it till I found a set of wooden doors with an iron horseshoe puller. I pulled it, then pushed it, and the door swung back. Before me was a massive, beautiful, green garden, and in the middle of it a gigantic, beanstalk-like tree stretched up so high into the sky that I couldn’t see its top. Spaced out around the beanstalk were pink and white cherry trees with their blossoms blowing all over the trimmed lawn, and there was a mix of other trees too, some of which I’d never seen before, even on TV. There was a big mansion house on the left, looking out over the grounds, and all over the grass groups of people and people on their own were walking and laughing and talking and playing games. And they were all filled with such joy.
I went in further, going over the grass and observing with delight all the strange happy people, it was almost like a perfect summers’ day in a park, and they all seemed so content and comfortable with each other that they could have all been families or very close friends. Most of them were adults but there were children too, and I watched as two adults chased two of the little kids, all of them laughing and with big wide smiles on their faces.
I noticed a bench across to the left, in front of the mansion. I went towards it and saw a man with a white hat sitting on the far side. He had a cane propped up to the left of him, but didn’t turn to face me as I got closer and sat on the near side.
We watched all the people. The man was almost ageless, he could have been fifty or he could have been seventy. His face on everyone was serene and calm. His eyes were warm with love and contentment. I stared at his side profile then watched the others again, and I became aware that he knew perfectly well of my presence, he just didn’t need to look or say anything; and I noticed that as he was laughing to himself, he was sharing his joy with me- I could feel it.
I loved sitting there. But then I saw someone else coming over the grass towards us. A woman of about forty, her skirts draggling the grass as she swept towards us. Her long black hair draped over an animal skin shawl- though I couldn’t tell which animal- which in turn hung down over her knees. A white feather poked up from behind each of her ears, and she wore three different stone and jewel necklaces around her neck over the shawl.
She stopped before the bench and looked down at the man with a smile. He didn’t respond, just kept sitting there grinning blissfully at the people. The woman turned her blue eyes upon me.
Hello, Aisha! Welcome! Her mouth didn’t move, but the words transferred.
She had very high cheekbones below her absorbing, almost opaque eyes.
Thank you, I said. Is this heaven?
Do you think so? A warmth, and enjoyment spread into me. It is if you want it to be.
I didn’t feel like asking any more questions, though, and just sat there. I looked away at the people in the garden.
Would you like to come with me? Or stay here? You can do whatever you want, her voice sounded, in a similar way to that omniscient voice in the dream of the mountain.
What do you want to show me? My brain asked.
What do you want to see?
I looked up that huge beanstalk, its bottom covered with hair like a lime tree, then I looked at her again. She was waiting so patiently.
I stood up and followed her back, as she drifted, like that ghost in Sleepyhillock, through the grass, into an area of the garden with lots of bushes and shrubs. There was a hole in the ground, a cave-like entrance, and she went down into it. I followed her in. Then I was going down, down through the earth, not following her, but like I was teleporting alone. I was passing through layers of ground, and I realised I was full of different colours.
Then there was black space, and I was in that blackness, and I was a little prick of white light. I noticed I could make myself grow and expand, and glow brighter if I wanted to. And that’s what I did. And the more love I put into myself, the brighter and more vivid the white got.
And then I was with the woman again, in a tiny little cavern. There was a little round stone table in the middle of the stone walls, the ceiling was only a half-foot above my head. The woman was busying herself with making a drink. It was like a small kitchen and living room, but underground and with no electrical appliances.
Would you like coffee, or tea? She communicated.
I said a tea, please, and a wooden cup filled with something dark green was handed to me. I set it on the table. It seemed it was more of a kind offering, a nice gesture, rather than me being able to practically drink it.
She sat down on the stone chair next to me and smiled warmly through bright white teeth, and the warmth of her smile flowed right into me.
Who are you? I said.
You can call me Linda.
Why have you taken me here?
You came here. You sought me out. I’m here to help guide you.
I imagined holding the cup in both my hands and looking round the room’s small walls.
What is the meaning of life?
She laughed. Straight to it. To learn. To learn and to grow. If you don’t learn, you don’t grow.
I thought of the Dylan lyric, He who aint busy bein’ born, is busy dying.
For who’s benefit? I asked.
I saw for the first time the big bone hoops in her ears. Everything is in a process, in a state of flux. Everything is energy. Everything works in circles and cycles. The object of life is knowledge. To find truth. You live a great many lives and each time you come back with your own little piece of the jigsaw, that adds up to one big whole.
Come back where? I felt a flutter of panic.
&n
bsp; Home, she smiled. The world isn’t reality. It’s all around you. The spirit world, heaven, the afterlife, the fifth dimension, the other dimension, it’s got many different words but it’s the same thing.
Is that where I am?
It’s even better than this. Her smile widened.
But what about…I put my own pain and my other stuff out my head…Hitler, genocide, oppression? It’s all just lessons? All the pain is merited? All the pain has to exist?
How would you measure happiness without pain and sadness? How would you know what it was? Happiness wouldn’t be an emotion then, you’d be just how you are. Do you expect God to intervene? All the time or only sometimes? After he’d stepped in so much, would it still be a life, your life, and a life of free will and choice? Or like you’re a goldfish with an owner above, who keeps sticking his hand in the bowl and moving you around? But I can’t tell you the full extent of that question.
Why?
Because, a little at a time.
Is there some sort of reward for living a good life? For being a good person? And what does good even mean?
Of course. Being good, living to your highest self, lifts your consciousness. Lifts you up. Lifts everyone dimensions. What is good? Just follow your heart. No-one who has followed their heart should ever be afraid of death. But it’s not for us to live your lives for you. You can’t ask us for all the answers, you need to find them yourself.
Through suffering?
Through all aspects of life, but yes, sometimes it involves suffering. But that doesn’t mean you have to get attached to the suffering.
The wisest people are the ones who have suffered most, I thought, but didn’t direct this thought at her.
She didn’t say anything.
So, something like the sermon on the mount? I asked.
She sipped her cup. She offered me some of the biscuits that were on the table. Yes. Quite like the sermon on the mount.
To love your neighbour as you love yourself. To live for others. To forgive, I thought.
The energy had been building up the whole time, and now it was overwhelming. The most powerful energy I’d ever felt. I momentarily went back to check on myself- warm, sitting under the oak tree in the forest- then I went back to her. Tears welled in my eyes then rolled down my cheeks, there- where I was- and with the other me, the body under the tree.
She stood up, and came to me, in one swift movement, her long arms hugging me under her white fluffy shawl. A wave of the strongest, purest, unconditional love passed through every nerve and atom of me, and I felt happier and more accepted in that moment than I thought I ever had in my entire life.
I returned her hug and she tightened her squeeze. The love was vibrational.
She stepped back and looked at me, her deep blue eyes blazing with kindness and compassion.
Are you real? I asked.
Yes. Are you?
I think so, I said, and I felt another wave of humorous joy. Are you a ghost, or a spirit of someone who has been before?
I have had many lives, she said. But yes, one of them was here, not too long before you came.
I somehow knew that I had to think about this, and knew not to ask about it.
I was going to ask something else instead, when she beat me to it, intercepting my thought, Keep meditating. Truths have to be earned, and you need patience for them all. You can’t get all the answers in one go. Life wouldn’t be worth living otherwise. Life wouldn’t be life…All you can do just now is keep going and love. Spread love everywhere. Listen, I have to go now, but take care. I love you. And I am here anytime if you want to come back. But before you go, she reached behind her right ear and pulled out one of the long white feathers, Take this.
Thank you, I said.
To remember this experience. And remember you are never alone. Especially in nature, you are never alone.
I hugged her again, and it entered me- Don’t doubt. Children don’t doubt. They are aware. And you attack yourself too much...You’re knowing yourself, now love yourself.
She beamed that white smile, and said Are you ready? I said yes, and she held my hands in hers and we went up, up through the ground, up through the earth, and then we were back outside the cave. Lots of love to you, she said at the entrance. Do you want me to come with you to the gate, or are you going to stay a while?
I’m okay, thanks, I’m going to look around, I said. And we said goodbye.
I turned back towards the garden and that huge beanstalk, and I thought of looking around, maybe talking to someone else. But my head was throbbing with information. There was only so much I could take in. And I thought I should process all of this stuff I had learned. So instead I went through the grass, past the bench, beyond the people towards the door in the wall. I had one last look back at the beanstalk and at the happy people playing.
I closed the door, crossed over the bridge, went down the riverside under the colourful branches of the trees. Then through the field, coming down the slope till I was at the gate. I opened the gate and went through. I felt my toes, and my fingers. My chest going in and out. And I heard the whispering wind that blew through the forest.
I was conscious of the oak next to me. The birds were singing, the stream sounded in the distance. A cold rush went up my spine and I shivered. I rose to my feet. Thank you so much! I said to the tree.
You’re welcome, the tree replied. Anytime.
I love you.
We love you too.
I felt amazing. The love from Linda was still in me, and I couldn’t imagine feeling anything as powerful. I felt risen in my mind, risen in my awareness, risen in knowledge and truth, risen in my soul. I was physically shaking, had a cold tingly feeling running through me. I jogged and skipped back up to the tent. It was a bit like the energy from the cold-water bathing, but a hundred times stronger.
I boiled some water and poured myself a green tea, lifting the cup slowly to my mouth and sipping it even slower. I savoured the taste as it ran down my throat, imagining it running down into my belly. My body is a temple, I thought.
I took another loud sip, and enjoyed the sound of it, and the gulp as I swallowed. My contented sigh relaxed me even more. I tuned in to the sound of the light breeze, the sound of the stream and the birds. And I looked in wonder at the beautiful, beautiful world around me, and at the interesting, mechanical motions of my arm, as it placed the cup on the ground.
My back pushed my weight down into my hips, which pushed down into my knees, which pushed down into the balls of my feet as I stood up. I walked in slow motion into the tent, and came back out with my notebook.
Chapter 55
I sat on one of the rocks next to the fireplace, extra aware of the pressure on my joints and my bum as I slowly came down. Health is everything, I thought. With good health you can do anything. I took a deep breath into my lungs, and thanked the trees around me for that breath, then I opened my notebook and brought down my pen. The words flowed out prodigiously. Everything I’d seen and been told coming through and pouring out. I wrote and wrote and wrote, till my wrist was sore, then I reluctantly dropped the pen. I looked down the hill, and above to the mountains. I felt a loud calling to go down to the loch, so I left my cup in the grass and started down with slow, graceful movements. I tried to keep my spine straight and tall as I came around the bent, baby trees and approached the road. Look at you now, talking to trees, and imaginary spirits. What has become of you? But I’m happy now, so who cares?
So the trees are alive. Have a spirit. A consciousness. An intelligence even. Maybe they are smarter than us? They’ve survived on this planet for longer.
We come from God and return to the thing called God.
That vivid dream. Was it God speaking to me? The women coming down the mountain. We all come from the same consciousness, and it is a part of us, and we go back to it. From and to the thing called God. Linda said the reason for life was to learn and to grow. The object is knowledge and to find truth, and th
at reality is all around us. Is that what I am opening up to now? A mass consciousness that is dormant in all of our souls? And we’re all a part of this plan, because He loves us? But how much of this is in my subconscious? How much of this is Freud’s iceberg that I’m not aware of?
Don’t doubt, she said. But if it’s not just my imagination, then, like Harry said, people in the hospital were very likely tapping into this too. I wasn’t even there a week but maybe that was what Sandra was actually doing, when she was talking to God down that toilet? But the drugs they’re on suppresses most of that stuff, like with Sandy. Who was that guy Harry talked about, that said all forms of transcendence are crushed by society? Maybe that is what is happening to them, their higher levels being brought down. But great claims need great proof. I don’t know, but I wish everyone could feel like this all the time. I feel so divine. That everything is just so, as it’s meant to be. But what do I know? I’m dumb as fuck and know nothing. No, you know a lot. No, I know nothing. I’m stupid and know nothing. And I need to keep telling myself it, keep the ego down.
I walked across the road, checking to see and it being confirmed- the glen was still all mine. Not a soul around for miles. I approached the loch, feeling like I weighed less than the wind that blew into the open space.
The blue sky shimmered in the water below the stone I threw out. I threw out another and another. My arm didn’t feel part of me. I was just occupying this body, but it wasn’t really me. I was about to pick up another stone, when I glanced down and spied a girl in the water.
I looked back at her.
The strange black hair didn’t seem like me; but the nose, the freckles, the eyes, the pale skin, it was me. And I liked what I saw. I stared back, and felt affection. The black hair reminded me of Nina, but I had gotten through that. This girl has done well, I thought. She is strong. She is brave. She is good. Her eyes have determination. Eyes that are now welling up. I love you, I told her. I love you, Aisha. I love you. I love you. I love you.