Re-connection to source

Since childhood, I never liked reading, and honestly, nothing has changed. I have always been of the opinion that I would much rather have the experience of, or write the books that others read. During my journey of self discovery, I was given a great excuse to never read again; instead I was shown through meditation how to find all the answers from within.

Saying all of that though, sometimes there are extracts of books, poems or pieces of wisdom texts coming my way through various synchronicities in life. Whether it is a friend sharing something they read, a book on a table I scan through while waiting for somebody or guided to a specific book with a message through a dream. These texts always come at the right time to bring an external confirmation of my internal reality, opening my heart with gratitude for the depth of my experience of life.

For as much as I love writing, there is no point in re-inventing the wheel, so if it has already been spoken at the level of perfection, there is no need to repeat, as its resonance is equanimous.

"All turned to regard the utter darkness. For several minutes nothing occurred. As if no air moved in the Garden, there was a profound silence. The observers were acutely aware of their own being, feeling each sensation down to the rhythm of the blood coursing through their bodies. But no sound save their own breathing could they apprehend. Then came the note. Each was transported, though they moved not a step. A filling joy, a profound sense of perfect rightness, washed over them, beauty too terrible to comprehend. It was as if music, a single flawless note, sounded and was felt rather than heard. Colours more vivid than any pigment were seen, yet only the dark void hung before their eyes. They felt crushed under the weight of indescribable wonder and terror. They were rendered so insignificant in an instant that each of them despaired and felt alone, yet in that crystalline instant each experienced exaltation, touched by something so wonderful it brought tears of joy flowing without stint. It was impossible to comprehend. There was only a flickering, as if a million lines of force sprang across the surface of the void, but they were gone so quickly the watchers could not apprehend their passage. One instant all was black and formless, then a latticework of countless glowing lines spread across the magnificent void, and light filled the skies, staggering in its purity and strength. All were forced to avert their eyes from that blinding display for a moment. A blaze of stunning energies poured forth, as seen before, but now flowing outward. A strange emotion swept through Pug and his companions, one of completeness, as if what they had experienced was now at an end. All continued to weep in joy at the perfect beauty of the display. “Macros, what was that?” asked Tomas softly, in awe. “The Hand of God,” he whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. “The Prime Urge. The First Cause. The Ultimate. I don’t know what to call it. I know only this: one moment, there was nothing, the next, all existed. It is the First Mystery, and even now that I’ve seen it, I do not pretend to understand it.” The sorcerer laughed, a loud joyous sound, and did a little dance. Pug and Tomas exchanged questioning looks, and Macros saw he was the object of their scrutiny. With an expression of genuine mirth, he said, “It just occurred to me that there’s more than one reason we’re here.” When their expressions betrayed incomprehension, he said, “I cannot imagine even a god to be without vanity, and were I the Ultimate, I’d want an audience for a show like that.”

From the book:

A Darkness at Sethanon - The Riftwar Saga - by Reymond E. Feist

This text was shared with me in 2019 by my beloved friend Mikkel Aalund Pedersen while in training for Shaolin, Tai chi and Chi Kung in Kunyu Shan, China. Bless his heart for seeing the connection and deciding to share.