Thursday, June 17, 2010

Celebrate the Choice

I woke up; I climbed the steep climb, where it led was what I wanted to know. The morning mist had just gotten its hold on the weather. Everything cold to touch and numb to bare. I climbed in silence towards the summit and where it led.
Awkward nights I had lit the candle; tried to see as far as I could, in the darkness.. where the view would end? I could never gaze at the abyss as well as it could stare back at me.
At dawn the hills rose with fervor. They vibrated secret melody. Some could hear it, those who wished to blend in with the mesmerizing flow of nature; bountiful and abundant at her best.
In the days which follow; I could very well have lost my mind, but the mountain air clear and refreshing; cooled the heat from my head, flowing down with each breath taken.
I climb not in mood, and I dont climb because I have reason or need. I climb for that is the nature of everything which dwells in vertical landscapes. If i dont climb, there is no existence here for myself.
The mountain air blows harsh as i continue with my reverie. Trying to rid the human condition; of the need to suffer and redeem oneself in a lifetime. I want none of that. I am free; I ride carelessly, not recklessly but trodding to see the world beckon life once again, every moment of the breath taken to be alive!
Sure the path is raw and it doesnt leave you to gain for more. it needs the patience and lucidity of near perfection to the core. You have to be one with the path and the goal. Always. In silence and in peace with one and all around.
The shrubs decrease in their radiance as the climb steers on. There is water somewhere amidst the mist. The fresh smell and taste of something like that in the air could never ever be mistaken. Its a gentle fall at the distance, the distance which could be at the end of the ravine of this hazardous road. I swallow the taste from this unclear morning. With the sun hidden behind thick mountain mist. Somewhere lies what i seek (not); Somewhere here itself.
The mountain likens herself to be the hidden path. Towards one's emancipation from worldly sore. Look at what you see everyday and it will surely not show you what the grandeur this world was supposed to be.. I purse my lips and rub my hands to see warmth once more. Just a while longer. Till the mist covers me and takes me where ever she blows.
Such surprises loom in the shadow and mist, looking younger feeling stronger. Taking no care to see that the ice and snow has started to melt on your body as well.
I walk like the mountain life. slow on its feet and very very sure. There is no limitation for zen to occur at these heights. Whenever i turn and move upwards my very soul looks upwards at unity. In frozen silence.
The views are magnificent at great heights. But what is to be understood is that, for the view to exist the mountain and the valley are both needed. The duality and trinities which one sees at these altitudes is truly something apart. The fall in pressure, and atmosphere so not what humans feel and breathe (nowadays). Something takes over the mind. Guiding itself to something in patience and faith. Looking with awe and due respect towards the path that the mountaineer has to undertake and make.
Its such a celebration, must tell you. When you perfect the walk. The sheer effortlessness of the actions your body undertake. Looks like you have been possessed by the goddess mother maha maya herself. Its all the same power. Which makes the mountain and the climber and the walk as well. so well indeed.

I talk to the invisible forces everywhere. Its not in the languages which us humans have made up. Its the true language of nature and the multiverse itself. Its a kind of power that flows from one to another. It makes up the truth and the sentient living being. The entire being. The cosmic egg. In a process of being alive. Becoming.
What are you becoming wise ones? In the day to day walk through your life time. What will become of yourself? Will it be the same as what it started as. or will you fade and falter? Rise and Reclaim, what you are.
This is not patriotic, or religious, or sect intended. This is the truth. When you talk like this with your mind and heart burning the holes everywhere; wherever you look at, becomes the same singing tune. BAM. Thats the way you were intended to be. Becoming that is our work; and of course our choice.
I walk like a madman on the hills, when it suits me just fine. But when you will join me, the tribe of silence walking between melody. What will become of you? Is it the same view which you intend to see all time across; is what You and I must ask of ourselves.


The summit is the rise and fall.
Look and guffaw, at its sheer brilliance.
Under the white shimmer of moonlight captured in these endless snow days and nights.
Befold the true dawning, upon yourself as the final reminiscence which you possess of your former self.
Its the final beckoning. Come and join the tribe. Celebrate the choice. Intended to be. Your self like never ever known before.

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