Little real-life occurrences experienced by Suha, from the series: ‘Beware: Slippery…. Sacred Ground’.
It’s true, nothing extraordinary has happened. It’s only that in certain moments I feel young and wild, and at the same time old and opaque. I feel that this contradiction is something real, and I carry it on, so to speak, lightly. I perceive it as something that exists without conflicts, like those transitions from night to dawn or from twilight to darkness, in which the colours get ready, in a gentle, imperceptibly gradual way, for a deep transformation. In those passages there is a communion that is so intimate it seems to escape the human eye, which is better able to catch an event that has been completed…
I can also try to look inside, to see what that “old and opaque” thing is, but I can’t define it.
Is it the heritage of thousands of years and generations that has soaked me to the bone, absorbed by me with my mother’s milk?
Is it the “other side” of things, that I am beginning, only now, to see clearly and that covers my eyes with an opaque film? Even my sannyas name reminds me of this opaqueness. Why should they have called me “eternal little star” unless it was for the opaqueness that hides my light? Opaqueness is also believing one is something extraordinary!
And it involves more than the merely physical level that is undeniably present when your steps are so slow that they could be counted and you avoid sudden movements so as not to lose your balance.
I have a feeling, however, that something “old” corresponds to what is not “mine”, something I have agreed to and borrowed, absorbing it from someone else without filtering it through my awareness.
And in order to verify this possibility, now that the search outside me has wound down because of my dissatisfaction, my only choice is to embark on an inward journey. So what happens is that I’m no longer ready to put in the forefront somebody else’s wise words, but choose to see, feel and hear what is happening in my own depths.
The words of the masters have supported me up to now and have aroused in me a pressing wish to make my light shine and allow my wisdom to speak. This is where the going gets tough. Because I can’t do anything myself to clean my interior directly from the bottom up. It’s true that what is essentially opaque can become transparent and even shine: for instance, doesn’t a tidy, clean house glisten and sparkle, when the objects that were opaque become shiny and even the energy they carry is cleaned up?
But things are different in the realm of the subtle. So at this point I choose another path: that of bravely displaying my “inconsistencies”: at least I know what I’m talking about and assume responsibility for them. And I write with the purpose of giving a mirror to my “inconsistencies”, taking note of them and moving on. If they are not real, they will come right by themselves. If they do turn out to be real, the things I write will go on walking inside me without my doing anything. My only concern is to be honest with myself… All this while I confidently wait for a beam of light to show me the knots on which I should shed light and do a thorough cleaning!
The funny thing, in a certain sense, is that I still go on believing, completely against common sense, that I’m managing to make my advancing physical old age coexist with a wild youth. My heart sings merrily, and I even go so far as to think I could spread my wings, now that I feel they are strong enough for flying. And everything is real!
Trying to understand, I proceed and move on cautiously.
And in the meantime, it seems that my life is shifting imperceptibly from light to dark and from dark to light, with all those entrancing nuances that fill my heart with confidence.