"When you know how to listen, everything and everyone is your Teacher."

I can still hear a forgotten voice saying that nobody ever said that life was easy or even fair. That the only thing which was ever said about it, was that it was worth it.

Every experience (good or bad) is a gift from the Gods. A learning curve. This truth has come to me repeatedly in the last 12 months; it's a familiar (yet forgotten) lesson that hankers to sink itself into my Psyche. Everything is flux and flux is but the only guarantee in this existential lesson.

So, I take the time to look in the distance and see it ALL. I take the time to stand back and see. The blinkers are off, I am fully present in the “Here” and “Now”. There are no more deceptions, no more denial of Reality, I am oblivious now to the illusory fabrications of the human mind. I take a deep breath, chuckle inwardly and wonder if I am finally becoming smart?

I understand that there finally comes a time when the one who supposedly knows, realizes that all she actually knows is NOTHING. All the surety is gone. Every certainty vanishes in the breeze and heat of the relative moment and an overwhelming sensation of emptiness takes grip of one's heart and mind. With Courage gone, one is humbled by the profound realization and were it not for the vague memory of a lesson unlearned, about the false and subjective nature of fear itself, desperation would certainly set in.

But the Gods are merciful. In this moment of true solitude I recognize the truth of the Elements, the expanse of the Universe and our infinitesimal part in it all. I find hope trapped under the lid of Pandora's Box and gently extricate it from the abandoned vessel, nurturing it in the desolateness but promise-filled universe of my heart. It takes root and there begins to grow and suddenly everything makes sense within the complex picture of the Path I am on and I gladly die to myself.

Once, the forest thrived around a Lake where fish abounded. Now everything is devastated by the passionate flames of uncontrolled fires. A few days have passed since I stood with you, Spiritual Son, upon its shores, and died to my role as your Teacher. Like the surroundings I have become arid, like
the lake I bear no more fish for you to catch. You are filled with all I had to give. Time turned the pages of our book and the intensity of the flames consumed the letters on those ashen pages. My lessons now live only within your heart. May they serve you well.

Strangers holding hands perambulating the watery mirror of our Mother, we paused to stand and face one another as two sides of the same coin. Strange how now you stand before me, unknown, you whom I held in my arms and whom I fed from my veins.

Venus and Luna rise in the evening sky, whilst Apollo bleeds across the Lake, pierced by the arrows of our initiatory ordeal, liberated in the darkness of non-separateness. We say goodbye; I die to you and you are born to me. Blessed you be, Son and Teacher.

In the twilight of homecoming I awaken. I am NOW finally empty. I am NOW ready for learning again.