I think we come through at birth with certain sealed orders to be opened at distant points of the journey.... Ten years ago, as I lay one night, ready for sleep, hand lifted to put out the light—my eyes found these lines:
The thing had come around by India—a quotation from Walt, in a little Hindu book of love and death by Nivedeta. It spoiled my night. I resisted. Some entity connected with the lines seemed to smile patiently. Deep within, I knew they belonged to me; that I should have to realise them, line by line, then live them; that here was a page from the envelope of my sealed orders to be opened after clearance—opened far out on the white water. They used to strike me as hard lines until the warm laugh came up out of them.... Romance means Not to stay.... Bit by bit, the story unfolds that the Plan is good—that the Plan is un One must learn the world first; one must not miss the world tricks. The men who have lived most have laughed most. But don't stay too long in the labyrinths. They are passages of pain so long as you give yourself to them. Still you must solve the maze. After that, don't stay—don't stay to pick up threads. There are other mazes, other drifts. I assure you life is rich and brave, but there is nothing so healthy as a laughing discussion of death in one's own mind—the next step of the cosmic adventure ... and to travel light there—not to take our mortgages, our material ambitions, our stone houses full of effects—by no means to take our card-indexes and letter files—to travel light, to pick up the brighter shells by the way—every glimpse ahead showing higher light—a more spacious and splendid prospect.... Why carry our furs and frost-proof igloos for this adventure in the deeper tropics? ... To become as little children—to be open hearted and free handed—to listen, to believe, to make pictures, to see across apparent separate Weigh up your external possessions—weigh them carefully—for their amount is the exact measure of your infidelity to God.... To become as a little child—to know that the forests are filled with other than things to eat—to love the mysteries awake, to love the fairies and the hidden flowers into strange unfoldings—to be fearless and free forever!... The Little Girl writes of her love for it all as it comes: ... I have a half a minute to send my love and strong pull for High Flight. We wanted this to be the magic week of the Home Coming, but it must be best to wait a little longer. Wait, wait—that is the old song of Earth—young waiting—big waiting—holy waiting. I love it. I love the suffering of it. One is great according to how well one can wait. I am loving Earth terribly. It is close to me, with its strange music. Last night, the Valley Road one and Esther and I were together—touched great white things—talked and laughed and loved until long after three. Each in her way is a power wherever she touches. Each has everything within. Each is pure and wonderfully sweet. We wait, open The children learn it so easily. I like to stop in this book and let them say it—the big story of the Seamless Robe, the story of Democracy. The young men say it strongly; and tenderly the young women,—the dream of the mate in their hearts becoming the dream of the Master. They all say it so thrillingly for me in their words and lives—the little boys coming in with their tales of prairie and the deeps; literally it is here out of the mouths of babes.... Dreve found it in a woman, another in science, another in music, another in the open road. Every man is his own way, his own truth and life. It waits for all.... We keep fanning day and night, many of us who work at home—the fanners of the Hive! We cool and harden the great spiritual concept into matter, as the cathedral spires of wax appear and harden in flaky white under the masses of the bees.... I laugh at my own intensity.... It is our one tale, told in essay and story, in different terms for cults and schools, for soldiers and clergy, in verse and prose, with dignity and in slang, but here it runs best out of the mouths of babes ... helping the Big Democrat get his story through. The Soul Speaks. I walked through a field. The brown soil was upturned and all the richness of man's labour was in it.... The morning sun was lifting a grey veil of dew up to its heart; the earth was fresh and cool where it had rested. My feet were bare and sank into the soft richness. The field was wide and pure and fragrant and alive. It seemed to sing as the sun grew warm upon it. Ecstatic birds flew close and balanced themselves magically in the sparkling air. I happened to be just ready to receive the golden loveliness that the old Mother is always eager to give, that morning. She helped me to feel the goodness of all things—the power and beauty of all, and the great, giving spirit.... Inside I felt keenly the presence of Soul—that was the secret. Soul awakened and breathing, Soul waiting and eager, Soul, the holy quickener.... The heart beat peacefully, the brain hushed all unnecessary thought and listened. I lay down upon the sweet ground there—the body relaxed and forgotten. Then, from the depths within, I heard the sound of the Soul's voice speaking these words: "This is the appointed time. Long enough have I sat mute and silent in the darkness. We have learned the lesson. The circle of separateness is complete. We are ready to enter a new globe now, a globe much larger than the one we "All is for us. The Path gleams before our |
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