WE may grace the sea's horizon in thought, but we may not proceed to meet it on foot. Some places are not readily penetrable. Some scenes, though ever there, are elusive ... we trip their beauty with a profound ineptitude, and when we happen upon it, as it happens upon us, the lights, hues and nuances envelop our interest and are drawn to our raptures, meeting with us within rather than without. So settles the whole great landscape in our beings.
Just as we may not readily catch our widest gaze in the particular, to look in upon the wholeness of a man presents us with such a beauteous sweep which is also impenetrable and impassable by the conceits and concerns of this world.
The sea with the sky imposing, has long been a membrane to the skull of this world. It does heave itself and lick-lap-lick, pounding and swelling, or with a supercilious trickle. It is the life-bearer of proteins converted out from a body of death (being salt).
The sky contorts obligingly, and the ethers and upper ethers wrap around the solid forms, hosting this world with light, that it be held and be visible. Yet by another membranous containment too, our skies are defined by the spaces beyond this World.
In Man the soul's forces oscillate between his fluidic systems, his physical form and then to his soul's own regions of being and also beyond, right up through and into the reaches of his spirit. As the bubble of skyline is penetrated by the Sun, thus giving it a home, so also is the soul-skyline with a translucency so penetrated and impressionable to Christ.
Divinity is to be glimpsed in the elusive and not in the obvious. At the furthest reach of mind or form, it does not stay around long enough for us to ever contain and hold it captive within the physical boundaries. The nature of divine insight is transitory because it is ever commuting from one plane into another. So we may snatch and snaffle something quite wondrous, but must be prepared that it will leave us also. This follows on from the colors of the Sun's rising to the concepts that come bearing the god-wisdom - moments which arrive and then pass, sometimes to which we question their ever having been; happinesses won and then lost, born and then gone, but kept ever alive and in being in the soul.
When we sleep the procession of images which move before us are comprised of ethereal realities brought by our wonderings. In our transition between consciousness and slumber, and also out from sleep into wakeful consciousness, there is a special time when we may slip over the threshold knowingly.
The adept may pass into sleep without losing his wakeful consciousness, just as all men one day shall negotiate heaven quite similarly. They may do this because they are prayerful. Their merits of thinking are conducive to the heavenly realities and they have the means to interpret the spirit-speak, whilst also the ego can withstand the beauty of the passages beyond.
Later too, the adept advances into regions which are similarly cordoned with veils which take his memory before passing back through the gates. This 'unknowing' enables the man to enter back into a region without the pain which would otherwise follow him.
No man would leave the side of God were he to remember Him. In His Love for us he has given Man forgetfulness, one which does not strip us of our intrinsic knowing. Nor are we denied the full recollection in the days to come, however for the periods in which we must venture into those corners of life that by contrast are stark, we are forgetful of our ecstasies. We are saved from the longings that would ensue. However, it is by our very ecstasy that we are healed and so renewed, out from the substances of titanic splendor.
Life feels good. Goodness and the subsequent pleasure thereof is natural to this universe, just as virtues and graces in pure form are exciting to the spirit of Man and held to be fantastically beautiful. Misery is but a fiction of worldly poverty. Christ Himself is no sad reality. The truth is Wonderful. Spiritual poverty first comes from the denial in Man to acknowledge this. But some of us know better!
So Man must learn to tolerate the contrasts between the ecstasies of his ardent life to that of the effort-bearing details he must equally enable (and ennoble) himself in. This is painful and difficult in itself, for the man who has little contrast is constant for a while, finding a 'settledness' within self until death, content to be content with only definition. Whilst the man who presses for development shall leave behind the fixed definitives to meet with those qualities of higher life which prove the luster of the soul's known world - albeit transitory to his given perception - and he shall waver in and out of the experience of oscillation as is his soul's own reality of being.
We intermingle with heaven during our daily incarnating. Man is not fixed entirely to where his consciousness goes.
Here is another thought also: just as Christ is with us, we are with Him. Where He goes go I. That means to say that as He permeates every cell filled with light, as He inspirits all men and illumines their hearts with keen knowing, as He Graces each plant and tree in foliage and in bloom and it pretends to be Him, as He is in the body of water and throughout the ethers above; in the moments to come in all that is to be, there is He, and also I - for I am with Him.
Herewith we can come to the mysteries of the very mysterious, for all things are known by Him - sown, grown and shown by Him! Thus we are allowed to know also these things.
Therefore it could be questioned: how can we help to encourage other men to come to a greater happiness and leave the 'comfortable' posture of a mean and arid outlook? How may men give up their forgetfulness when it was first given to them as a grace?
As said before, our perceptions are selective, for it is by stupidity, insensitivity, to all other awarenesses that we are enabled to concentrate upon particulars which are specific to our interest. We do not appreciate the full physical realities which are all around us, we are saved from overwhelming considerations of sense, having mostly just 'enough' to comprehend - the light is not too bright, the flower too pungent, the wind too warm, the edges too sharp, the taste too strong, the colors too vivid, the humming too loud, and so it goes. Were we more sensitive to sense impressions we should find the world intolerable. Were the physical realities themselves just marginally accentuated, then also we should find that their properties were heinous to our selves propriety.
Our passage into perception is already quite delicately placed. A man does not shift his position from this without challenging the desire to fall into forgetfulness – sleepiness, unconsciousness. Just as a man who is brought a new thought which disputes his given reasoning may answer you with a vacant expression of this 'unknowing', he is entering upon that threshold whereupon he has not yet earned his self-consciousness.
What was the grace of forgetfulness is to be replaced by yet a higher grace of full knowing. Christ does not contradict our Father as this would seem. For in higher terms the two are one and the same - only it is that one is the quiescent partner of the other.
Full knowing is that which is to be realized. The future must be in order for it to be known. It is played out. And that we may proceed forward we must turn our backs to where we have come from. We are forgetful of that past. In this our knowing embraces our forgetfulness. But we must have our knowing as well. A man who has only forgetfulness and no knowing shall have no future.
In time (and out of time) Father God by presence alone, dispels the 'enchantment' of our forgetfulness. Here it becomes more meaningful - the gift when given twice differently - just as something as is thought to be lost is found and ever more valued.
With a greater knowledge than before Man comes to his end station with the recollection of all of the former along the way. This then provides the wisdom of the experience without the hindrance at that time - the continuity innately known is fully realized. This is also the circumstance with reincarnation and forgetfulness, along with our sleep and its forgetfulness as well.
The greater grace of full knowing proves the completed value of the grace of forgetfulness. This is how it has been, and is to be. It is not that forgetfulness should ever dictate to make the confines of our knowing, but rather that our knowing is enabled firstly by our forgetfulness, and then secondly by our own efforts to know. By this effort our consciousness is won and our 'unknowing' is transformed with greater purpose - although subsequently dispelled; having sacrificed itself it is reborn in pure knowledge.