(Paper #0593-39)

I like the rain.  I always did.  I remember as a child sitting indoors with my nose pressed to the cool windowpane and then watching the raindrops hit the glass outside.  Pondering on them as they trickled downward in their path to the sill.  Old ones meeting their brothers and becoming one in the little sea forming at the bottom.  New ones bravely being born at the top and eagerly beginning their descent.  Some go it alone.  Not always in a straight line, they dodge back and forth as specs of dust on the pane deflect their journey.  Others merge together and descend even faster.  A fascinating panorama on a windowpane, and one to me, even at that early age, so representative of life itself.

Again later, putting on my sou’wester, raincoat and rubber boots and going out to walk in the rain when downpours were at their heaviest.  The puddles building up on the sidewalks; the wind in the taIl trees in the park.  It was good.  It felt more like home than anywhere else.  Any people were always scurrying away and I could be alone with who I really was.  And the rain washed down and took away the cares, and dirt and left only nourishment and peace.

Sometimes, at the cottage in the summer, I would go to the beach when it really rained hard.  The raindrops hit the sand and bounced back upwards, scattering sand grains everywhere.  The drops stung a little as they hit my bare skin.  It was alive and good and alone.  Swimming; the ocean always seemed warmer and wrapped its’ arms around me in a loving, comforting embrace.  Sometimes thunder would roll and lightening flash, and a dim memory of a so distant past would be in my mind.

Again, so many years later, when I had gone “to my mountaintop” and was living in the little log cabin I had built in the woods, they were there again.  Those raindrops that clung to bough and leaf and told their stories:

Have you ever noticed a drop of new, fresh rain suspended on the bright green tip of a fir tree when the sun first comes out?  Shining through it in its pure crystal form with all the brilliant colours of the rainbow dancing from it.  The coloured lights dance back and forth as the gentle breeze plays tag with the tree.  They are there - then gone - then back again.  That drop magnifying God’s great sun is a far greater and more perfect jewel than any diamond or man-made imitation could ever be.  So why wear a ring, a necklace, - go to the woods and live among God’s jewellery?

Again at night, in the moonlight they would twinkle and dance.  Fairies of light playing with each other among the trees, and with me.  They seemed to say “See, we are here, in the trees; angels waiting for you - and they would laugh a bright musical laughter.”

In my life, I think I have learned more from raindrops than most of the books I have read or schools I attended.  It is all there for us, if we will only choose to see it.

In reality, the sun never sets.  The sun and stars always shine.  It is just that we have made up our own reality about them from our own minds.  It is an illusion.  Once knowledge dawns, the illusion is realized for what it is.

Similarly, we have invented illusions about our bodies, our own lifestyles, and ourselves.  Most of us have built houses for ourselves consisting of many favourite rooms, which then become our reality.  Our kitchens, bedrooms, and bathrooms are especially important places.  Each of us keeps ours just the way our own ego demands and knows that they are better than anyone else’s.  Our kitchen is a magic place where we can concoct delights for our ego appetites.  Bedrooms can be just as great for resting our bodies or joining them with others.  Our bathrooms are places of special ego prominence, whether we are luxuriating in bathing, adornment, or elimination.

As we roam about from room to room in our own special places of separation from the world, we keep all the window blinds pulled down tight.  We are totally in our private world.  Sometimes, we begin to look for the light in our rooms, but can’t seem to find it.  Perhaps we make lamps and light bulbs that seem to help but never really satisfy.  We have forgotten that the sun is shining brightly outside, and all we need do is raise the shades over our windows.  The sun will come streaming in.

Truth, Light and Love are like the sun.  They are always there.  They always have been.  It’s just that we have been so busy in our own “rooms” that we have forgotten them.  As we begin to awaken from our illusions, and once again recognize the eternal Sunshine, we know that it has always been there patiently waiting for us.  Then we begin to realize all the many other illusions we have made for ourselves which are blocking the awareness of the Sunshine, and bring them to The Light too.

Firstly, it must always be kept in mind that when we speak of God-Truth-Love and our Self as a creation or “extension” of God, we are speaking of and dealing in only mind/thought and not in any matter of form (universe, world, body) which we believe we are in.

Secondly, we should always remember the process involved.  God is and always is/was eternally.  The uncreated creator, the sourceless source.  Another name for God is Truth.  Truth simply is.  It doesn’t do anything or have to.  The vehicle or messenger of Truth is Love.  The nature of Love is that it must “flow” (like the water of a river, or “shine” as does a light.)  It is creation in motion.  It if did not flow or shine, it would not be Love.  As God extended Himself by creating us, so we create by extending the Love that we are.  This is our purpose.  And in this purpose we are one with God and one with each other, then All being the Same.

Even though we think we are off “in the far country” wandering by ourselves, we have not entirely forgotten our purpose.  In such, it is our natural inheritance and tendency to extend love to our brothers and ourself through forgiveness.  We do this by “selective remembering” in seeing only the perfect, innocent Child of God that we truly are.  All other things we think we see in others, and ourself is simply “play acting.”  While the act may cloud over and disguise, it does not truly alter the actor himself underneath.  Sometimes, people and situations are very good actors, which makes it harder to see the actor.  We just have to look harder.

I sometimes think of our situation here on earth as being like salesmen travelling out to sell the product.  Head Office (God/Heaven) has held the sales rally and meeting.  We left fully knowing our purpose, with great energy and intent in seeing the “product” explained and sold.  However, along the way, we became distracted in all kinds of ventures and adventures.  We got off into other things that took our interest and attention like: universes, worlds, bodies, houses, cars, money, illness, war, sickness, death, etc.  None of these things are real, but are all part of the “play” and we just have to get into the act.

And through it all you just know you don’t belong here.  For years I used to describe myself as “a gentle stranger, wandering through the world alone.”  (Can anyone relate?)  It’s o.k.  We don’t belong here.

As we travel along our paths, it is the experience of reality (or Heaven) that we are really seeking, not just concepts about reality.  As we go along the path, sometimes we experience brief glimpses of the heavenly state.  These manifest as moments of indescribable peace, joy, happiness and oneness sometimes described as a “mystical experience.”  For me they are experienced with another person, and are not a feeling of being “in love” but rather a feeling of “being love” as one would have when in full recognition of what one is and in complete union with God.  It is like the experience of giving and receiving a prayer of love at the deepest level, all at the same time.

A similar haunting quality is the basis of Irish folk music, and more lately, our own Newfoundland songs.  Other lands and the cultures around the world have similar themes in expressing a deep yearning to “go home” to a land and a time and a family that are gone and will never be again; and a longing for the way things were.  The heart bonds are very strong and elicit hopelessly sweet “memories”.  These migrations and emigrations have happened all through history and are so demonstrative in worldly form of what has gone on since the separation.

So perhaps it is now time, instead of just sitting beside the water and dreaming of what was, to get up, look up, and remember who and where we truly are.

A brook is only a brook because it flows.
It implies motion.
If it did not flow, it would be a puddle, a pond, or a lake.
It would be something else - but not a brook.

Similarly, love is always in motion.
It has to flow, or it is not love.
That is why you have to give love to have it and be it.

So the “need” of the brook to flow, or love to give itself does not imply a “lack,” but simply a necessary motion to fulfill its own description.

This is the “answer” to creation - why God “extended” Himself to create us (The Christ).  God being Truth and Love.
Truth doesn’t move - it simply is.
Love is the vehicle of the extension of Truth.

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