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Chapter 22

 Shadows of Dark and Light



You know, I believe I've been standing in the shadow of the door of Death for all of my life. Always casting glances into the empty nothingness the room opened up to, feeling like it beckoned me to enter, to walk into what might be an endless dark rest.
          At the same time it's like I've been wanting – from a hazy site somewhere inside of me, you know, like beneath everything else – to walk the other way. As if my soul wanted for me to be embraced by the Light at the far side of this other path. In my mind I've fancied a million times over how it would feel like to be embraced by the Light; I've seen myself being freed from all the worries and anguish I've carried about for as long as I can remember. Yeah, I've pictured an embrace kindling alight my soul in such a way it would make me feel physically elated. Like flying. I like it when my thoughts wander off there, and I like to think of an embrace like that as The Magic Touch of Love. But I've never dared to truly believe in it becoming reality, you know, becoming real-ized. Every time I've felt like was I close to it, so close I could almost sense it, I hesitatingly stopped and an obsessive thought came over me, making me think: "No, it's dangerous to think like that, the opposite will sure come about if I stay with it".
          It's kinda hard to explain this but it's as if a sense groused with mistrust takes hold of me whenever I'm starting to feel a little bit at ease, and, in that feeling, get some sort of hope the Love-embrace could, after-all, become reality. It’s a ghastly mistrust-sense of "believe it'll happen and you'll be struck down in a never healing despair ... there's no turning back and rise again after having been struck down in such a way." God knows I've tried to stop myself from thinking the wicked mistrust-thoughts, I've tried everything to
silence my mind when it takes me over, but there just is no way.
          But, then again, when I've moved towards The Room of Emptiness and Endless Dark Rest I've also stopped a second later and thought: "No, not that way". Only now, when moving in that opposite direction, there is no gruesome sensation taking hold of me. No, it's more like had the Trossle-Light at the far side of this other path some curios invisible tentacles filled with lofty Love and kindled yearnings able to reach into my very heart, and this way guiding me in what I believe is the right direction. Until recently I couldn't understand what it was stopping me from entering The Room of Emptiness and Endless Dark Rest, it didn't make any sense to me, it didn't give me any kind of clue as to why I just didn't, you know, just went there. But on recalling it now I believe this sensation, what I, in a fatigue attempt to put into words that which goes way, way beyond words, something perhaps I could name the ancient Trosslan, is a love-light springing out of The Living Heart Herself. Actually, coming to think of it my friend, my going this way or the other, is, by comparison with the power of the loving light of Trosslan, not worth bothering myself with even in the slightest. (S)He is my true mystery.

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Oh, this put me in mind of another peculiar dream. I didn't take any part in it, I just watched the vents taking place. The dream began with a man walking towards a podium to give a speech. Before he began he looked around with a gentle and sincere expression on his face, and asked the audience if everyone were seated in their right place. There weren't too many there but the once who'd come were all very cosy looking and sat in big fluffy armchairs and couches and comfy suchlike things. I had the feeling the amount of listeners didn't count as he was going to address the "essence" and not the "quantity" somehow. I can see now, when I'm awake, that the opening question was a rather odd one to start out with, but in the dream it felt highly accurate and proper, like was it important to begin there.
          When the question was posed the cosy people in the audience looked around – at each other and at the other seating places – and everyone became conscious, and somewhat but not overwhelmingly surprised, they didn't sit in her/his right seat. They all began to move about towards their "home-places", but as they did so they realized all of their necklaces (they all had one) were tangled up in one another, so before they could move they had to disentangle themselves. They began doing this and it was the calmest most soothing thing to behold! Because they all had their groovy eyes and precious minds fixed somewhere far away and deep within when they got about their entangling business; they had this amazing gaze of calm, care and love which you can only find in those who has their gaze directed inward and wholly focused on the subject at hand – at the same time.
          You see, they didn't sets their minds in control over what their hands were doing as they disentangled their necklaces, it was like they knew their hands and fingers knew just what to do on their own sense perception. In fact, had they tried to control the disentanglement with their minds this in itself would have become an obstacle, obstructing the process. The thought never crossed their minds though, it was simply an observation I made from my spectating point of view. 
          Slowly, peacefully, ever so delicately they all sat there, with a cute curious little smile on their cute curious little faces, looking absentmindedly focused into a deep, vast, mystery space-scape within and beyond, disentangling themselves. To me, the beholder, it felt like they were voyaging that space-scape, as were their souls moving about there at its own cosily tranquil pace; like were their souls experiencing itself and all its wondrous reflections.
          Then a tapestry of wonder filled the sunlit azure-blue sky above; the grooviest choir of Trossles appeared, each Trossle smiling her immensely cute, heart-warming smile and looking onto the world with eyes filled to the brim with loving delight, kindness and soothing happiness. With their gentle, magically melodious little voices the dainty Trossle-choir hummed the tune "What child is this?", making the whole of the air teeming with the wonder of the song.
          Everything about what met my eyes now were unprecedented awe-inspiring, so immensely soothing and joyous and enchanting. And there I awoke, tears of pure, pristine happiness were running down my face. Oh dear Lord, I didn't want to wake up! I wanted to stay in this dream forever! I laid still in my bed, trying this way to let myself linger in the dream- feeling, but the present reality came sailing in on me from all directions and soon, oh way too soon, all that remained of this glorious dream was the distant, shimmering resonance it had awakened in my heart. Reluctantly I peeked at the clock: 5.15.

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Funny how it can be, don't you think? Not long ago I dreamt I was repainting dinosaurs. Well, it wasn't that long ago, maybe it was only yesterday? I don’t know, I don't know anymore. Anywho, as I said, I was repainting dinosaurs – huge herbivorous dinosaurs – and I was doing it from the backseat of a car. I don't remember what colour the dinosaurs had to begin with, although I seem to recall something greyish, and I don't remember what colour I repainted them in, although, again, I seem to recall some kind of opal, lush greenish. Be that as it may, I don't believe the colour was the truly important aspect here, no, it was the act of repainting in itself.
          Painting their bodies was a draining job to be sure, but not difficult. The tricky part was to repaint their heads since they had a tendency to get a tad bit annoyed with me being in their faces – literally as well as figuratively speaking! I was a little scared doing it, I'll admit to that, but mostly however I was excited to do it. I told the driver of the car (I never got to see him) how to drive as I sat there on the right side of the backseat, sticking out my brush through the quarterly opened window and, when close enough to the dinosaurs heads, focusing my attention on putting the colour right. It felt like I was in some kind of joyous control of the situation as a total, a childlike joy. At the same time I was well aware, in a grown up way, that for one I wasn't the one driving, and that I also had to take into account the potential as well as the actual reactions of the dinosaurs.
          But I didn't mind, on the contrary, I liked being the one giving the driver instructions on how to drive, and I liked being the one who held the brush. Even though there was also a little fear involved, both concerning the annoyed dinosaurs and what might happen if they caught some part of me with their jaws, as well as in relation to the driver – if he might get angry with me suddenly since the job took so long. There wasn't anything scary actually happening in the dream so the overshadowing sensation became the fun and inspiring part, of being the one steering the driver, and being the one holding the brush.
          When I woke up I wondered if the fact that I was not in the driver’s seat meant something positive or negative, like, was it a good thing or a bad that I wasn't in charge of the car. After having contemplated the matter for some time I came to the conclusion it was a good thing; I was the one holding the brush, and so someone else had to be driving, I can't paint inspiringly and hence correctly if I am to be driving at the same time. Having reached this conclusion I smiled to myself and turned slowly to have a peek at the clock; 6.49 am.


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All the things we're doing
are bound to cast shadows
on our selves, on our lives,
and hence on the world as a whole,
so for the Love of Christ:
Let those shadows be Light!

♫   ♫   ♫  ♪   ♫  ♫   ♫   ♪   ♫   ♫  ♫   ♪   ♫   ♫  ♫


Author: When Tomorrow Comes

Takemehome Book Cover, Foreword and Table of Content Chapter 21
Chapter 23

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