Suitcase full of destiny

This is part five of my Zen series in which Zen understands more of her destiny while talking to the monk...

Zen: “It is sometimes too heavy to carry around with me all these thoughts that I find I need to escape, take with me only what I can get in my small bag, change of clothes and a little food and water.

Sometimes I feel I have to be realistic now, plan for the worst, as the worst is here and it won’t change or get better. Then I feel this is all too heavy a burden for me to turn where there is nothing left and to keep on going when there is nothing left to go towards, and my mind tells me I am not happy at all, don’t stay here, give all away and just go, it’s not meant to be, tried and that is enough.

I used to have so much enthusiasm for this but it comes to nothing so I give up. I get these thoughts all the time and find myself listening to them repeating themselves over and over, as I become aware of them, but also something deeper that I am; as I find myself aware of the thoughts, I let them come, and I let them go, and then the mystical drive of eternity finds its way past me, like a hunger that has found its destination and excites me in its ascension to somewhere else more than the thoughts.”

Monk: “A beautiful outcry looking for redemption.”

Zen: “Yes, not just some noise in the wire of it all, that spangled banner that is waved, that movement in the soup that is dreamed, but an awakening, in a moment that never comes again.

Who can say what immortality is with such a reluctance to live in the now? Is the alabaster night of obscurity, all that keeps me from my dreams? As I await upon my yearning with another excuse, the open doors of love, beckon from the far side of an edge, that city by the ocean of all my calling. That calling faintly is revealed, that destiny I belong to. To be looked at by starlight, in a sky of wonder, to see only what can be felt.

To take the suitcase full of destiny unopened, and the grave so empty without me, to such a place of longing. Then tell me the value that flows down my face so freely. Am I any yesterday you can think of? Or any tomorrow that can be asked for? Only the lover can slip upon the wings of now into forever to wrap this in dust and send it up there to the moon to be opened by the granite witch, or the regret notice from the shadows.

Who cares; when the flavour is moonbeams all that will be touched to let it go. The broken sighs don’t say. Who am I? Closer to thee you call. More than can ever be said in a well so deep to wander then in this, for the dust where I wander is the moon of my doing. And the mystery is the illumination that guides me. The night has no yearning more than the lover in love’s attraction. It is this forgiveness that redeems.”

Monk: “Well then I must wish you well on your journey, and hope that you find your inner peace, and that things turn your way, and that you do prosper with the creativity and love of beauty that you have shared with me. May you farewell on this quest and your destiny find you at peace with yourself.”

Zen: “Perhaps this is my destiny because my life is not built on structure, it never has been and so trying to fit myself into all the structures is too restrictive to be endured. I have always been free, always, this is me and that cannot change no matter what hole I am in or the clothes I am dressed in, I go my own way, this I follow no matter what, that I will be free.

It is possible that there is a new being becoming on this planet that needs no explanation, that is so far beyond the mortals here now, that if they really knew what was going on, they would take to the slaughter of such for fear of being dinosaurs. So, I will journey on then.”

Image from Pixabay

The parts before:

https://steemit.com/meditation/@wales/until-i-go-home-again