With today being the full moon and the lunacy that accompanies it, I think it is auspicious to bring to it a new blog design. The second book, Portal, is now available and I am restless for a new look to our blog. This is probably the craziest of ideas since , not only is it a full moon day, but our dear friend Mercury went retrograde on August 2nd. With fiery Leo exploding its ego all about and the Mercurial flux that is its retrograde motion, what better time to step into the chaos and explore a new design. I’ve never been one for conformity or conservative actions so I will just lay it all out and hope for the best.
The response to “Portal” has been amazing, even in its infancy, and I strongly urge you to make it a part of your library. You can read many excerpts here, but nothing will satisfy more than reading it from cover to cover.
And so with all that is transpiring now, within our lives politically and socially, it is apropos that I present this timely excerpt from Portal:
The Great Storm
We are standing on a precipice, high above an ocean beach. The sky is roiling with black clouds. Fierce winds whip at us, stinging my face with a sharp mist. Steep mountains rise behind us, disappearing in the overcast. I can’t imagine how we got here. There’s no path up or down from this forsaken perch. I look around, alarmed. But you are still clutching my hand.
“O, where have you brought me this time? Why are you gripping my hand so tightly?”
“I wouldn’t want you to fall. Even though this is another sub-dimension, you would not enjoy the experience. And this is no ordinary subdi.”
“So, where are we?”
“We are at the Ends of the Earth.”
“What? What kind of thing is that? That’s a place?”
“It is indeed. It is a physical metaphor for your times. In this dimension we can see the extent of the Storm that rages throughout your planet, even now. Look there, down against the rocks in the surf.”
Strangely, I see two figures standing in huge, crashing waves on the rocks. They are somehow maintaining there, in spite of the tumult. Wave after wave pounds the ledge. The figures stumble back, but regain their foothold and stand again, bracing for the next onslaught.
“O, who is that? Why are they standing there? They’re getting pounded. They’ll be swept away. Or torn apart.”
“You think so? Many would agree with your assessment. These two are the avatars of your age. They represent all humanity, facing the Great Storm.”
“Avatars? What do you mean? Who are they? Why don’t they save themselves?”
“That’s not what avatars do. They are here for you, and not for themselves personally. Their destiny is to be right where they are. Avatars only come when humanity is all but lost, when you are in the most dire straits. This isn’t the first time in your history when avatars have come. Humanity created many such situations over the ages. But this is the first time in 26,000 years that they have come together as two—for the entire species.”
“I don’t get it. This is crazy. Destiny or not, people don’t behave like that!”
“In this subdi they do. All behavior here is metaphorical, representing events and individuals in the general dimension. These twin figures are embodied in your world as we speak, living prominent lives, at the center of great turbulence. One is female; one is male. You would readily know their names if I spoke them to you.”
“Well then, why don’t you do that? Tell me who they are!”
“It is not the way of avatars, to be known widely in their own times as they truly are. They must remain anonymous. It is what they represent that’s important. Like so many icons in your world today, they are bridges. They represent two worlds, two universes. They bridge two sides of creation. In duality, they embody the Oneness of which many so glibly speak.”
The noise is fierce. I lean close to your ear to make myself heard. “I’ve been meaning to get back to that question. You said quite a while ago that ‘Oneness doesn’t manifest’. What did you mean by that?”
You lean toward me in response, raising your voice, “I will explain in good time. For now, I request you to hold that question in your heart. Let it steep and mature into a question worthy of the answer you will receive.”
“All right. I’ve waited this long.” I mumble, looking quizzically at you, and watching the duo below buffeted by the waves. Now there is rain in the wind. It lashes at us and we’re soon drenched.
“Well, O. This is getting rather uncomfortable. Are we staying long?”
“One thing you have to say about this. It sure has taken your mind off your personal troubles. Right?”
“Correct. But couldn’t we watch from a dry place somewhere? How long do we have to stay?”
“Not much longer. Watch the figures below.” You are now shouting to be heard above the gale.
The female suddenly walks to the edge and dives down into the water. She is pulled quickly out into the foaming surge. She disappears from view. The man moves back against the rocks, holding fast. Now I see the woman swimming out from shore, rising and falling with the enormous waves. Her shape is tiny in the enormity of the ocean. Sheets of rain pound down upon Earth and sea.
I yell at the top of my lungs. “O, this is insane. What the hell is going on?”
“Hell, indeed! Insanity indeed! Look more closely.”
I stare into the raging swirl below. There, on both sides of the man, I can now make out other shapes of people. How could I have missed them before? There are dozens on each side. I took them to be rocky crags, I guess. They seem to be struggling, fighting with one another, pulling and pushing. Their voices are wafting through the wind in faint bursts. They’re screaming at the lone man on the ledge, who continues to be struck by mighty waves. And what of the woman? Where is she now? Some of the people on the rocks are looking out toward her, screaming in hostile voices.
My attention is totally absorbed in the drama beneath us. Oddly, I now have no concern for the cold rain in my face. I feel you holding both my arms from behind as I lean into the wind, trying to see the woman in the surf. There she is at last, fifty meters from shore. She is no longer swimming; she is treading in place on the swells. And around her I see dark shapes moving. Fins!
“Sharks!” I cry. “Stop this, O! I can’t stand it.”
But you are silent, face against the wind, eyes fixed on the woman in grave danger. I look away back to the man. The crowd that has closed in on him is now haranguing him. They are pulling and tearing, beating on him with their fists. Their angry shouts ride up through the mist and tumult.
“O, can’t we do something? What can we do?”
“You tell me. You’re the human being. What would you do if you could do something?”
“I’d help them. I’d put a stop to this whole thing. You said these two are avatars? Why would humanity treat avatars like this?”
“It is very important that you tell me why. The answer must come from a human heart.”
My mind is frenzied. I shake my head and try to understand what you’re getting at. What is it you want me to say or do? I reach back inside my body, feeling for my heart, in spite of the maelstrom outside. I feel an expansion in my chest, a warmth. An answer.
My voice is calm and firm. It rises above the storm. “Humanity wants to destroy the avatars, because we feel hopeless. We are torn, divided within ourselves, and just want to tear away and reject everything. And insanely, at the same time we demand something to cling to. But it is not there. What is offered we reject; what we desire is no longer offered; it was never really there.
“The forces of rejection and clinging are like bile in our hearts. Burning lies. We feel there is no one who can save us or help us or lead us. We are helpless and cynical. Yet we want to banish anyone who is stronger and wiser. We want to be insane, to actually retreat into unconsciousness. We, collectively, have created the insanity I’ve been feeling. We’ve seen a glimpse of awakening, and it has frightened us to the core. We are mad with fear.
“That fear is the only thing we can feel behind our glib, modern façades. It has gripped us by the throat, by the gut, and will not let go. We will kill anyone who does not accept this fear and denial. The fear is our savior! Fear is our God! The avatars have proclaimed that we do not have to fear. We cannot abide this. ‘Lies, lies,’ we scream. What do they know of our God! We know better. We know that fear is all there is. The fear of God! We must clutch to it for our very lives!”
This voice has erupted out of me from the heart of fear in humanity. I know within myself that it does not speak for everyone though. It does not speak for me. And yet it is the voice of the times, the voice that shouts the loudest. It is the voice of ego and separation, desperate to preserve itself. What will humanity do with this wayward voice?
On the ledge below, the throng from both sides has pulled the man to the ground. He rises up again. Some of the mob are now trying to defend the man, arguing with the others. Waves crash over them all. There is great tumult and thrashing. Waves come again, smashing into the struggling group. Some are washed away with the waves, screaming and cursing loudly. Sharks, near the shore, are quick to respond. The man, the avatar, does not struggle. He simply holds his ground in the midst.
After one great wave, he is separated from the writhing mass. He leans forward toward the sea, looking out at his partner, just as another wave strikes. He is forced back against the rocks, but stands firm. His strength is astounding; his courage inspiring. Around him I see many great birds, ravens, black as the storm—at one with the storm. They hover, defying the whipping wind. There is a mystery about them, I sense. They are harbingers. But for good or ill? I cannot tell.
I look back out to sea. Incredibly, the woman is still alive, afloat amidst the circling sharks. They have closed into a tighter circle. There must be at least a dozen of them. She does not move or try to defend. She is waiting for something. She is at peace, come what may. Her poise is radiant, even across this distance; her presence is grace itself. I am in awe. So, this is an avatar! The pounding storm is as nothing to me now. I am outside it. I surround it with my being, my human being! I realize that this whole scenario is inside me, inside my mind. I must place it in my heart as well.
Your words come to me again, this time from a still, small place, untouched by the storm or the struggle. Tell me now, brother. What would you do to help these avatars?
This time I do not hesitate. The answer does not come from my mind. My mind has shrunk back into a tiny corner of itself, consumed by its own fear-filled nature. This time my heart speaks. My soul acts. Down upon the rolling water a point of light briefly gleams. Then, from above, a blinding flash of lightning connects to the point on the water. A mighty explosion of thunder peals across the blackness above. Then the lightning strikes several more times. Again the gleam of light appears on the waves. It is halfway between the woman and the man. This time it does not fade, but holds and begins to grow slowly outward from its center.
The rain and wind have suddenly ceased with the last of the thunder. Below and out to sea there descends a calm. Gradually, one by one, the raging waves fall lower and the surface mellows. I look upon the woman in the water. Something has shifted. The fins of the sharks have changed.
They are dolphins! Could I have been mistaken all along? The dolphins are swimming the circles now, leaping and dancing with the surf. They seem to be arriving from all directions. Hundreds of them ring the woman, splashing and playing in joy. The circle of light has enlarged to reach them all at last. There is an air of jubilation. I am overjoyed to see this.
Now I look over to the man. The circle of light has reached the shore. It slides up to where he is standing erect, still, in the center of the ledge. He has been watching the ocean, the woman and the dolphins. The struggling people around him have pulled aside. They shrink back and are falling to the ground; some are on their knees, bowing, and others seem to be praying, with hands clasped or arms outstretched. Some are prostrate or have curled into fetal balls. I could swear I hear the ‘gnashing of teeth’.
The male avatar spreads out his arms, wide. Two great eagles swoop down from the cliffs, parting the flock of ravens. The eagles are each the size of the man himself. They fly together past his outstretched hands, brushing them as they head out over the water. They dive low to the surface, speeding toward the center of the circle of light. In a flash they have pierced the water with their mighty claws and are pulling out a huge, shining fish from the deep, one bird at each end. This fish is the source of light on the water. Now they release it and the fish turns in the air, gleaming like diamond.
The scene slides into slow motion. The eagles hover. The giant fish, a vesica shape, is aloft and free, transforming into a pure golden oval. The woman floats amidst the dolphins. The man stands, arms outstretched on the land, ravens at hand. You and I watch from high above. The light radiates out in gentle, fierce waves from the gilded fish.
Now your voice is close by. “You have done this, my human friend. Congratulations. There is indeed hope for your species. If you could do it, so can others, many others. There is a keen opportunity for the calming of the seas. And this, at the very height of the Great Storm.”
“I did what exactly?”
“It is your heart’s desire that has manifested here just now…”
copyright 2011 Robert Lee Potter