We have moved back from the vesica, against the vertical wall. There is a circular bench here. I, for one, need to sit down. The end of this discourse is approaching, I know, and I’m a little saddened. I turn to V and touch her hand tenderly, saying, “I’m finally understanding what this book is about.”

“Tell me,” she inquires.

“This is an invitation into presence. I see that knowing the Life of Source means developing an intimate, first-hand relationship with the entity that embodies the Now.”

“You are absolutely correct,” answers Omis. “We have brought you into this space that you may resonate with the way we live, the way Life lives us. It is an unceasing joy to participate with Source in this manner—to realize the true nature of who we are. I know that V is feeling the reverence and sincerity of our mission.”

V nods and speaks softly. “Omis, the way you arrived with us was perfect to illustrate the Life of Source. You have emerged directly out living presence, out of the space itself. If I may be poetical, it accentuates the promise of joy held in the wings of stillness.”

I smile. “V, you are a poet!”

She smiles back and continues, “Omis, we are truly blessed to have you appear again and to bring with you the vigor of creation.”

“Well said,” he continues. “Now, let me tell you about Life from the perspective of an angelan. Moreover, it will indicate how humans can begin to live more freely within themselves. What you are calling presence, I know as Life. I know it as the breath and vibration of light and flesh and texture. I know it as quality and beauty and freshness, ever renewing, always enduring. As I say these words, I know thoroughly that Life is the forming agent, the invigorating principle within them.

“When I gaze upon V’s beauty and receive her appreciation, I know that this, too, is Life at work and at play. It dances through us all, in each expression and experience of the universes, moment within moment, for eternity. In my knowing, I realize Life is present; ‘knowing’ is also Life. Consciousness is Life. Just as there is nothing that does not come from Source, there is nothing that is not Life. My being is Life. All of yours, too, is this. We are blessed, by way of a million dimensions, in each gesture and instant of this creative facility.”

Silence takes over strongly before he speaks again. “Tell me now, my human friend, what have you just written? I know you are wanting to tell us about it; and I sense that its energy wants to unfold.” (more…)

This past year has seen many heartrending events on this mighty blue marble. As a small pinhole of existence in this vast universe our actions seem to have little effect on the big picture. But yet, a drop in the sea creates a different pattern and that pattern alters the entire scene. We now must enter a space of stillness and contemplate our future. Embracing our egoic self and loving its transformation into unconditional selflessness is our Soul’s greatest desire. Here lies the challenge of 2015. I know we can meet it with grace.

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(image courtesy of Bruno Torfs)

I have found more easily the space of stillness with help from Life Of Source. The idea of living in Presence is more gargantuan a task than any other and yet it is found in the simplicity of life as no other simple measure may express. The complexity of our minds has driven us far away from this most subtle truth. But there is a way to retrieve our most dear friend. Here is an excerpt from Chapter XXI, “Conversation With Stillness.”

“What did you write?” V asks with curiosity.

“The dialogue surprised me, I have to say. I’ll just enter it here, and you can see:”

I sit with silence and feel the space.

The sensation of presence enters around me and in me.

It is alive and welcoming. I appreciate its resonance for many minutes before I start.

“May I dialogue with you?” I whisper in my mind.

“May we have a conversation?”

 “Yes, you may” an answer comes, quieter than my whisper.

“Ah, that pleases me,” I sigh.

“But why is that?” replies the silent one within.

I ponder. “Because I need to know more.”

“More? More of what?” presence asks.

I wrinkle my brow and try to imagine. What indeed!

I finally answer, “More than just this silence, I guess.”

“There is no more than this,” presence says straightaway.

“Words are less than this, my child,

less than this full moment. Hear me clearly:

There is no ‘more’ of presence.

I am all and always that I am!

When words are formed around me,

they are but a tiny part of what I might be.

They form an outer edge, a crust, a temporary fence;

and thus are more subtractive from the whole

than being whole.”

I sigh, a little disappointed. I wait, but then I say, “Does that mean

I should not speak to you?”

The spacious being brings up its voice from the stillness deep,

“Go ahead and speak. Yes, you may.

Your words and mine can rightly be as pointers on our way.

Only, we must know them, as they really are:

They are the lesser part, the humbler part,

of all the Life expression in our world.”

“What are words for then?” I ask, dismayed.

“What are we doing with them here?”

“These words we use and wear

are your sensibilities and intellected dreams.

These words—of here and now—speak out from you,

though they appear to be the voice of me.”

I ask, “But are you not inside them somehow?

Could this not also be the voice of you?

Can’t you be here among us in these words?”

“I can. And indeed I am.

But you may not completely, truly know me here—

in mere word or thought or sound.

For me to truly be, I must be whole!

Look not for presence to expose itself so indiscreetly,

nor in such a finite way

as a fabricated trace of forms.

It’s not for eyes to prove nor ears to drill,

the ways or means of what I really am.

To know me as I am—and that I am—you must stop!

And stop again, upon your very heart.

No longer be a speaker;

not a seeker, nor a guide;

not a leader nor a follower nor a finder be;

not a teacher nor disciple; not a devotee.

Escape your understanding and your postured mind.

Just stop and listen to the silence.

Let me in. Let me go.

Let my freedom justly rise.”

I reply, “It worries me to think of what you’ve said.

If I am to be none of those things you catalog,

what ever can I do to know you

as my essence does seem to urge?”

The precious presence—Life itself—falls down

around me in its space. Its silence shakes me to the cell.

“Be tranquil, here, in heart. You must come down

and be what is—the just and blessed will—yet even destiny.

Be calm. Be true. Be very silent and be

purely still!”

ⓒ 2014 Robert L.Potter