As a writer it is important for me to be wild and raw inside. This scratches the itch for the reader on some primal level. We have enough nonduality descriptions to fill a somewhat dull encyclopedia of the “I had an experience of unity” variety. What is lacking is the backstory, which is generally referred to, but not fully expressed. Juicy falls between the cracks.
So I get up in the morning thinking that I should lay off Notes for a while. But the wolf is scratching at the door, or as Leonard Cohen says, “the angels are scratching at the door to come in.” Either way, life is a harrowing experience on the archetypal level. And it makes no sense to the intellect that would describe its nondual experience.
So here is my Note for the day after Thanksgiving, 2012.
Bob dropped in for a visit, wings and all. He was huge and wild. His vitality wafted across the room as he touched down from the heights. He said nothing. My heart pounded. What was this visitation about?
His being spoke to mine and this is what I imagined that he said. “Drink your life up quickly. Don’t bother to savor it. The savoring comes later. Just gulp it down.”
His aura blazed. My heart telegraphed to his: “It’s almost gone. I’m seventy now.”
Then the most amazing thing happened. I became seven instead of seventy. From that point on the visit changed, for I looked at him through new eyes.
What I saw was Jesus beckoning me to come unto Him. Bob had undergone a transformation. I approached Him without saying a word. But He was the Word. I now remembered what it was like to be untouched by loss or age. To do this I instinctively knew how to drink life with a great thirst.
This is what I imagined, not what really happened. For what really happens is nothing like one would imagine. I sat alone in the room again, the keyboard still being used to write this Note. My fingers know what to do but they are not The Hand of God.