A Cover of Reality
The nature of reality is veiled. Very often we are forced to act as if a certain set of facts holds true, simply because the situation demands action. And then we discover that the truth was very different from what we thought. One finds this time and again in fairytales that a deeper reality is unveiled just at the point where a perilous course of action is about to be taken. What is this deeper element? It is the unknown, imponderable part of life. How does it make its influence felt? It lies in the fact that we, as human beings, are – so to speak – always trying to make our world fit its sphere. In the old days the conception of the planets was that each one occupied its own sphere. If events were out of joint you might have said that a star was not in its sphere. Today we might often feel that our life is not where it should be and – consciously or unconsciously – we struggle to put it back in place.
In the fairytale one has the advantage of having a quest to follow. It might lead, for example, to the well at the world’s end. Then there is a great awakening – truth becomes clear. But isn’t our whole life a quest? Aren’t we always striving for that sip of water from the well? And could we not lift the veil from reality sometimes by going down to that deepest part of our being consciously? In fact, unless we do go down to it we will never see the truth – that the part which does not fit is taking refuge there. The strange reality is that the misfit part of our self – which is always somehow one step ahead of us – is hiding there at the very place where answers might come to light.
To end the unreality of life is, paradoxically, to enter its fairytale. To envisage the quest, sink to the depths, unveil the being you find there and discover – yourself.
Sphere
So can you catch and hold the fullness
of your life if you have never dreamed
of the deepest part and, dreaming, woken there?
And is this part not the sole source of all
your efforts to make the world fit its sphere?
So it cannot avail itself of light
unless you see it is the last refuge
of what in truth you never once have been.
Unreal
Yet only in fairytales can I reach
the well at the world’s end and fill
my bucket there. But fairytales, I know,
are true – my own life is true in their light.
Believe, and deaths will become live again,
quests fulfilled, a sip everlasting life.
How is it the world casts over the eye
a cover of reality unreal?
Best wishes, today,
Landar
© landar 2011. All rights reserved
