The Realm of "IS"
(An old man's dream of an old man's dream)
I had a strange dream the other night about an old man.
In this dream I watched as the old man prepared himself for sleeping and from that point on that old man and I became one except for one thing, I returned from my dream, he did not. But I did return much wiser than I was before.
The old man groaned as he stretched his tired body out upon the bed and with a sigh, closed his eyes. As sleep slowly overtook him the grim set to his mouth loosened to a slight smile and the furrows in his brow smoothed over.
Gone was the pain of his age wracked body, gone the loneliness and the worries of the present as he walked again the paths of youth in his dreams. Gone were the sick cancer ridden lungs, as he ran the forest of his youth. Gone the sadness as he once again relived those wondrous days of young love with his lost mate. A smile came in earnest to his lined face as he dreamed.
But even as the old man dreamed, that faithful heart which had served him so well in all his years, fluttered fitfully once, then twice, finally shuttered to a stop. All this went unnoticed by the old man as he gloried in his dreams.
Nor did he stir as those two tired disease ravaged lungs ceased their gasping of air and that most wonderful brain died. The only difference was to the dreaming as that most wonderful gift of life slipped from that earth bound body.
Unfettered by the body protective mind, the dream became a stark rerun of the reality of his life. Gone were the protective walls of forgetfulness, as he walked the recorded memories of his life in slow motion. He once again experienced the pains that balanced out the gains, the shames that balanced the fames, the sadness balancing the happiness.
All these things the bodiless soul of the old man was forced to endure, at first he tried to struggle, but discovered he had nothing to struggle with, tried to awaken, but had nothing to awaken to. He was powerless to do anything but forego that timeless time of turmoil as panic of discovery gave way to the acceptance of circumstance. Slowly gaining control, the soul became aware of the newness of its being, it became aware eventually of other disembodied souls about and soon learned to cast about questing thoughts from this brainless state. "Where is this?" his soul asked a passing soul.
"This is!" came the ghostly reply.
"Of course it is,” the old man's soul replied, "But where is it?"
"This is! This is! This is!" came the reply as the other soul passed out of reach.
The soul of the old man struggled valiantly for control of this new experience, trying to bring this seemingly endless dream into some sort of realism, but there was nothing to grasp to, nothing of the familiar to compare with, only the dream, but this was no longer a dream. He was about to submit to the despair of never understanding his situation when a great voice filled his being. For the first time since coming into this state he felt a surge of feeling from without himself.
The voice was filled with a love that pervaded his soul, yet it was also strong and stern filled with unimaginable power.
"WHY DO YOU DESPAIR?", The voice asked, washing warmingly throughout him.
"I am confused and know not where I am." The old man lamented.
"THIS IS!" The great voice answered.
"Yes," replied the old man, "But where is this? Is it Purgatory? Is it Heaven? Where is is?"
"WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE PURGATORY TO BE?" Asked the Voice.
"It is where you are purged of your sins." The old man replied.
"WERE YOU?" Asked the Voice.
"I think so," replied the old man, "For I kept reliving my entire life over and over seeing all my sins and shames until I finally accepted their reality. I guess I was purged."
"THEN IT WAS! THIS IS!" The Great Voice answered.
"Then is this Heaven?" The old man asked.
"WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE HEAVEN TO BE?" Asked the Great Voice.
"The abode of God and the angels. A place of paradise. Is this that place?" The old man asked.
"IT COULD BE, FOR THIS IS." The Great Voice replied.
"Are you the Creator? Are you God?" Asked the old man.
"WE ARE AND I AM!" The Great Voice replied.
"Then when am I to see you?" Asked the old man.
A chuckle rumbled through the old man's being as the Great Voice answered. "YOU HAVE ALWAYS SEEN ME. I AM AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. BUT THAT WHICH YOU REFER TO SEEING WITH LIES MOLDERING WITH THAT BODY IN "WAS", THIS "IS". ALL THAT COULD BE, CAN BE IN "IS". BUT AS YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW, YOU CANNOT CHANGE WHAT WAS ANY MORE THAN YOU COULD ALTER WHAT YOU HAVE ALREADY DONE. ONLY BY ACCEPTING "IS" CAN WHAT "MAY BE" BE REALIZED. "IS " IS REALITY! WELCOME TO THE REALM OF "IS"!"
I awoke from this dream very troubled. Pondering it over and over in my mind, I could see it's reality, but that reality troubled me. It made sense. Right now I have this beautiful body with all the senses that I have been accustomed to. Everything I can relate to as feeling and seeing and being, has to do with this body. But this body is but a lent thing, made up from the dust of this earth. It is a vessel which allows my living soul to walk upon and enjoy these things upon this earth. It "IS". I must accept this. If I cannot learn to accept this "is" now,just think how hard it will be to accept it then. I have come to believe that, although Life may not be a dream, dreams can have an impact on life.
Blue Turtle
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