Beauty is Always in the Eyes of the Beholder! by Rohini Ranjan SignUp
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Beauty is Always in the Eyes of the Beholder!
by Rohini Ranjan Bookmark and Share
 

Ramblings of
a weary traveler
on the freeway of
Newage


The temple looked wonderful! An oasis for the parched soul amidst the desert of heartless commerce!! And the timing was just about perfect too! My search of decades was getting to the point where I had more log-books full of accounts of human greed, pettiness, and lack of love, lack of friendliness and lack of selflessness, than otherwise! It started out as a lifelong experiment, the search for this elusive treasure chest which the spirit is believed to call its home. At least that is what the tattered yellow pages of that ancient book had promised me! 

We ...
wrestle with ourselves
We wrestle with images
thoughts that we think
are our very own.
 
We ...
struggle with 'OUR' concepts
imbibed unconsciously
from others!

We rush through nebulous
ephemeral strains of reality,
noting all kinds of deficiencies
in others
that we can only see
through our very own!

Seeking desperately
surges of power
that keep us feeling alive!
When a touch of compassion
and love without strings
is all we ever will need
to keep us continue to live.

Through the paltry years,
we were given for learning
that often are wasted in longing
and in shining
our scruffy little mantles!
When all we were asked
was to polish our souls!

We come to this earth
to learn about love
and that was
all we need to learn!
This earthly realm
can deceive;
luring us with vile
and green eyes of envy
and lust and possession,
that keep robbing our riches
gained over
numerous existences.

We continue
in blissful ignorance,
not realizing all this time
that love is perfection
we either learn it as a whole
or not at all!

I felt like an immigrant who had moved away from home a long long time ago to settle down in a foreign culture with all ties severed from home. Suddenly, penetrating through the backdrop of the current existence ... that over the years had remained hardly new or foreign, through the overwhelming backdrop of the now familiar sounds of the flowing brook of a language that was not mine, ... I heard a raindrop fall. Penetrating the noises of the ocean surrounding me, I heard a crystal footstep! And, I closed my eyes as the smell of this first raindrop of nostalgia kissed the parched and shriveled soil of my soul!

Suddenly, the ocean grew silent. The 'now' faded away! Words and concepts, once familiar, since forgotten, began coming back to me! Ah, there still remain those that speak my true lingo: the language of the soul! Those that still play with the toys that had remained buried in my bosom, for so long, so deep that even I had forgotten they still existed. Ah, the power of primal sounds! The rain-drop of memories touched ashes of yesteryears like some Lazarus who came to kiss life back into those.

Unconditional love, universal love, empowerment, illusions, trust and kindness, angels marching to the pinnacle of the crystal of divinity, little granules of ugly frost that embrace each other in communion to create a beautiful snowflake, friendships that reach out beyond time and space just for the purpose of healing. It - is - all - true! Finally, I have found paradise. Amongst mortals!! Just like the dog-eared book had promised!!! I can trust again, I can love again, I can see again! 

They say that sweet dreams are cruel. For, they end-up in harsh reality! It is really the act of waking up that shoves reality in our face. Such is the trauma of these rude awakenings that we forget those fleeting but real moments of bliss that held our hands gently and led us from the state of joyful dreams to the state of true reality. The hypnopompic transition zone where both dream and mundane realities live together, without threatening or being threatened by either, ... where both are accepted, equally, and yes, even unconditionally. 

Comes a time when it becomes hard to ignore that words that begin as wisps and slivers straight from the soul become corny and cliche'! When the temple sheds its divine glow and from underneath the veneer, dreary walls of a tavern begin to emerge glaring mockingly at one; it is hard not to feel bitter or betrayed! When the priest must ultimately pass in front of the all-revealing Light of reality and wisdom and must pay the price of transparency, it is hard not to feel that that rain-drop and those first-rain-on-the-ground-smells were all a dream ... they were illusions! 

Little does the weary traveler realize that the ambrosia perhaps was never in the cup! Even the cheap toddy-on-tap can induce exaltation of the spirit, if the soul is ready and open! 

So, tavern or temple, what gives them their form is not those who have made it to the pulpit or even those who were fortunate to get into the pew, but, He who enters the Holy edifice and then into the soul of the worshipper! 

After all, through true humility that can live only in an open heart, and eternal gratitude that shall never fail to awaken the soul, even a dingy little dark barn can prove to be glorious and welcoming enough to receive and house the Essence of God!

Image (c) Gettyimages.com

29-Jun-2000
More by :  Rohini Ranjan
 
Views: 2381
Article Comment Deeply Moving !
K
09/26/2012
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