From time to time on the quest for our true self, that identity hidden beneath the layers of personality, desires, fears and all those belief systems we absorbed on our way through youth to maturity, we feel we can see clearly beyond the clouds of mystery and mystification, to the purposes and results of our strivings.  At such times, the inner self, that spark of divinity, seems well within reach.  Though it may fade by morning or the completion of the retreat, we remain inspired and refreshed, however remotely, and ready to resume that climb to the light.

     I have been blessed by such sudden revelations through the decades, and I might add, repeatedly impressed by the simplicity of the ‘knowing’.  The meaning of life, that pearl without price, can be expressed thusly…”On this planet it means acquiring individuality at the expense of conformity while accumulating all possible experiences in the data banks of your soul.”  As simple and shocking as that may seem in the light of those realms of esoteric teachings coming at us through the channels of Zen Buddhism, Vedanta, Theosophy, Kabbalah and so on, I found the challenge, once the initial blinding radiance had subsided, to be one of continuing one’s incarnation as if anything ultimately mattered.  If every occurrence or event, however blissful, traumatic or just plain boring, was destined to be filed in your data banks for later reference, what was the point of continuing to slop your feet through the mud?

     Two options opened themselves to me: (1) Being present for the benefit of others, adding joy, laughter and bits ‘n bobs of enlightenment when appropriate, and (2) Living every moment to the fullest, feeling the carnival of energies infusing every second of the urban and rural life.  Embracing those options gave further purpose to my trek to resolution as the debts of karma are ticked off one by one until exhaustion seems pleasant and fulfilling.

     Not surprisingly the revelations of life’s meaning fade and recur as if on some enigmatic cyclic pattern.  Well, they do come and go, as do winter and summer, pain and pleasure.  Some would say that being unable to distinguish between suffering and bliss is enlightenment.  In carrying that weight of knowing, feather light as it is, I have noticed some who ponder on the meaning of life shy away from the understanding as I have portrayed it.  Surely they say, it cannot be that simple?  After all this sweating and slogging uphill, you tell us this?  Where is the reward for all our effort?

     I suspect they do not want the mystery to solved or the maze explained.  They have come to love the mystery for its mysterious being, a divine goddess that will suckle them when required. They have found a comfort zone outside its parameters, being on the outside sneaking peeks when they can. I cannot seem to satisfactorily explain that peering delightedly out from the supposed inner sanctum can be just as much fun, if not more.