In last week’s blog ‘Old as the Hills’, I spoke about day-to-day life being on two levels, adhering to directions promoted by the factual world for our material needs, and on the other hand inwardly defining our present and future on a ‘what if’ basis. I posed this question; should our must have needs be driven by the ‘truths’ of the objective world, or should they manifest from our higher nature -that state of consciousness which is not governed by the time/form expression of knowledge? And in answer I said you needed to be conscious of the ‘driver’, which in essence is day-to-day awareness of your inner self. Unlike the ego we necessarily develop our higher nature is eternally present, it’s not judgemental, doesn’t demand, or compare you to others. What it does do when you allow it to be present -is give awareness of self-purpose.
In the current environment self-purpose is taking some pretty hard knocks, even non-communicative, unsocial, people can’t avoid restrictions -they have to eat and a shop or supermarket visit will have them feel defensive, judgemental, not to mention the emotional feeling aftermath, which for some will bring on depression. On the bright side those of us who have pets know just how supportive they can be -and would you believe, know when we are down and need cheering up. Thank God for the animal world! They can teach us a thing or two.
We all have a natural instinct to protect ourselves when our day-to-day self-awareness is threatened; a reaction born of our animal nature. We call it the self-preservation instinct. If it’s not governed by our higher nature it only achieves to defensively underwrite the objectively important needs of life. However, when you respond with the awareness of your higher self, actions are promoted which not only protect present needs, they also strengthen your real character; building knowledge of your true Self. How so you might ask?
Conceptually Man is no different from all other forms of life, he is an open system of consciousness at all levels. The time honoured phrase, ‘I am what I am’ denoting self-consciousness has encouraged Man to develop a hierarchical knowledge of life where in Earth terms he regards himself as the evolutionary head. We go so far as saying self-consciousness is soul and other conceptions, for example trees and plants, don’t have souls. Believing, as we do, in our autonomous nature creates barriers between ourselves and other forms of life, and worse still, because we have ‘our heads in the sand’ develop blockages within our Self.
If you look carefully at the people around you, it is noticeable the sensitive types get most problems – They may also get the “better rewards”, but nonetheless can, and do get burdened by mental and emotional down drafts which disrupt their natural harmonies. The satisfaction you have in life is a direct result of the control you manifest in character, both to the world outside and the universe inside. We have natural methods of control which we are oblivious of – my aim to have you recognise these means in yourself.
Has it ever occurred to you what the first musical instruments were? They were the drum and the pipe -it tells us something we need to acknowledge. The drum can be anything which vibrates sound on impact. The first of our species recognised was sound is carried by vibrations, not only did the sound carry beyond his vision, it also enhanced awareness of himself. And the pipe which came in as a close second, developed awareness of himself. We call this process of awareness -instrumental. Our ancient forebears had much simpler ego’s than we do today -they didn’t question the process -they accepted the benefits.
We cause a great many actions in our lives without awareness of their effects – you may not think you do, and perhaps only afterwards think on what you did. The wisdom of hindsight has very little value if our thinking practises do not evolve. If control is developed only by the ego it will be repressive and restrictive of our naturally born instrumental Self. You can be efficient, capable of starts and stops, and protective of yourself without awareness of the higher self, but if you want the ability to recognise good and bad conditions, be progressive and evolutionary, be creatively stimulated -then you must engage the instrumental nature of your consciousness.
In the coming weeks I’ll advise the ways and means by which the bottom line of all our needs can be met. The poem I’ve written for today is an echo of freedom, an event that really did happen, and I hope it will instill you with thoughts of positive outcomes.
Somewhere in Time
We’ll go east, west, wherever’s best
down garlanded leaf shaded lanes.
Mortals without plan, purpose, or price
heading for the green untrammelled earth.
Who knows what gems we will find
when the email and phone are left behind?
Curious, in want of some old-fashioned tea
off the beaten track, we drove
past cows on road, Sheep on verges,
turning; where to now? there’s a cottage café
thatched and worse for wear; an open door.
Our taste buds anticipate, we stop to explore.
A low beam ceiling gives a closed in feeling,
the windows are small the chairs worn
and the counter displays farm eggs.
Beyond is a kitchen of sorts, and a kettle sings.
A tousled head with long sideburns pops up.
‘It’s coming on twelve –be you wanting a cup?’
‘You’ll have some tea, cakes maybe?
Sit yourself down the rooms’ all yours.’
We look at the bare boarded floor
the unpainted oak blackened door, and then
at this bent great hulk of man, and say
‘Tea for two please, apple pies and cream.’
Strangely, he makes no sound moving around.
His eyes purr ‘my pleasure, he says -come far?’
‘Portsmouth’ I say. ‘Is that so?’ he replies,
ambling off with a shake of the head. ‘Well, I be.’
All is silent –what can he be doing back there?
The silence is deafening, like a church at prayer.
The mustiness of wood makes us feel good,
the smells of coal ash and oiled table cloth,
the sight of a clock that silently ticks
all fits -when the room darkened by cloud
starts doing something and opens our minds,
slipping and sliding into past times.
Serge and coarse vests jostle and rest
starched collars and crinolines appear,
chained Albert’s and hatpins sparkle with light.
We hear pipes tapped, the snorting of snuff,
feel the smell of leather and tangy felt hat.
The growl of a dog facing a cat.
‘Now here’s a rose fresh cut –somebody knows!’
And he gives me a nod and a wink.
I swear I didn’t ask this tousled grey head!
Awake as from sleep, smilingly secret
we toast adventure, a day to remember
you, me, and the apple pie vendor.