SOUL'S JOURNEY
L.A.Baldwin

Sycamore, Buckeye, and Pine are doing their jobs well, as I relax on a lounge on my back porch. Their leaves provide a gentle flickering shade, sheltering me from the late afternoon sun. Leaves and branches catch the wind, creating a drifting wave of whispered sound that envelopes me with it's special beauty. Other sounds fill my awareness; a dog barking, a car door slamming shut, the raising of a garage door, and the crashing clang of a metal garbage can lid hitting cement as an old woman shuffles out of her garage, dragging a brick-red garbage can behind her.

Hidden within the branches of the Sycamore tree, an owl hoots his song, while behind my back, wind chimes happily sing their own tinkling melody. At the top of the alley, somewhere beyond my range of vision, an invisible someone is spraying the ground with a garden hose, creating a miniature river that dances it's sparkling way past me, down the center of the alley -- confirming to my eyes,what my ears have already told me.

At this moment, in this brief segment of time -- my need, my will, my desire -- is to sit, listen, observe, think, and feel. This is the Journey. This moment, the last moment, the moment to come, are all pieces of the Journey, and each is just as important or unimportant as the last, or the next. Bit by bit, piece by piece, we travel through our experience; sometimes aware, sometimes not, that we are Experiencing. We gather, we discard , but we never truly forget anything. No moment is ever lost. Nothing is ever wasted. Every thought is an action, and every action begets a multitude of reactions, of possibilities.

Choices are made. Some, we are aware of making, and some we are not. When we are consciously choosing, our higher selves are also choosing, and the choices made by our Higher Selves do not always mesh with the choices of our Conscious Selves. There was something, perhaps, our Conscious Selves wished to experience, -- or not experience -- but because of the wisdom of our Higher Selves, the opposite of what we chose consciously, occurred.

If all that was known by the Higher Self, was also known by the Conscious Self, there would be many paths that would never be chosen. Much precious experience would be lost, for it is rarely, if ever, that we would willingly choose to experience the unpleasant. If we had our happy way, we would always choose to experience what we perceived to be bright, sparkling, and good -- as a child would choose to eat dozens of lollipops -- a temporary moment of intense pleasure, which, in the end is not necessarily a wise, or beneficial choice.

One of the most often asked questions, concerning the Higher Self is: "If my Higher Self is calling all the shots, then why should I try? If my Higher Self has already decided that I will be killed by a bus, in the year 2001, why should I bother looking both ways before I cross the street, now?" There are many, many times in life, when we simply must defer to the wisdom of our Higher Self, while remembering always, that we ARE our Higher Self. We must try to remember also, that every action and thought has purpose, or we wouldn't be doing, or experiencing it. Each action, or non-action, we take creates a myriad of ripples in the vast pond of our total experience. These ripples of experience affect our total experience, and the collective experience of every soul in existence. They cross over, mingle with, and join an infinite number of other ripples, creating for our benefit, a rich, never-ending bounty of the energy we call knowledge.

We may choose to look both ways before crossing a street, or we may choose not to. The time of one's death is of no consequence in this decision. Whatever is learned, during this moment of decision, is of great consequence. In this single, isolated moment of choice, what occurs?

A.) The opportunity, and ability to think and make a decision, is exercised.

B.) The vitally important skills -- particularly in matters of spiritual growth -- of observation and awareness are employed, or left unemployed.

C.) The 'experience' of others is formed, and altered by your choice.

D.) Free will is used, in accordance with, or against the quiet prompting of the Higher Self -- often referred to as instinct, a hunch, or a "strange feeling."

E.) Can you continue this list? No action is without value.

The Physical Self is ego-based -- as it should be, otherwise there would be nothing to keep us grounded in the physical plane, and the physical plane is our school and playground. The ego operates on the basis of "I want." It says;

"What do I want today? I want to be safe from physical harm -- I also want a big piece of cheesecake. I don't want to exercise. I want to be healthy. I want another cigarette. I want to be liked. I want it my way, always. I want to be respected. I want to be right . . . I always want to be right . . . I . . . ."

What is the prompting of the Higher Self during all this? Perhaps, something like this;

"You, I, We . . . need. The original arrangement for this life, beloved Self, was to experience life until the 91st year. A good, full life. In this life, the primary desire was to express beauty through the medium of oil paints. To eventually die, a renowned, beloved artist. But, in order to accomplish this desire, talent is not enough. There is a need for self-discipline and sacrifice; for patience, and the ability to tolerate, accept, and utilize criticism. There is a need to keep the physical body strong and healthy.

However, nothing is carved in stone, because freewill is involved. If the wisdom of the Higher Self is ignored; if the paintbrush is only occasionally lifted to canvas; if the physical body is un-cared for; if the temper rages when criticism is given -- then, the original chosen experience is altered. And this, beloved Self, is still perfect, because all choices create experience, and all experience is valuable."

Evening is descending around me now, and a gentle breeze caresses my summer-warmed cheeks. Bordering the edges of the backyard, pink Begonias, yellow Snapdragons, and burgundy Dahlias bow their heads in homage to the life-giving sun, while also welcoming the cool darkness of the on-coming night. Lightning bugs arrive to dance their joyful, glittering celebration of life, and I think, "Never, have there been fireworks, or Christmas lights that can equal the splendor of a thousand lightening bugs flashing their tiny fires in the darkness of the night; no other light could be more grand."

Then, as if to challenge my thought, the full moon peeks over the horizon, and begins her shimmering, iridescent ascent into the endless, blue-black night sky. Through the shadowy movement of Sycamore leaves, she playfully reveals her partially veiled face to me, and I laugh in pure joy . . . I am under her spell; I am charmed by her splendor.

"But, then again," I think,"here is beauty beyond compare!" Upon which thought, my mind is flooded with visions of mountains, oceans, butterflies, birds, sunrises, snowfall, towering trees, a horse at full gallop . . . . the Journey . . . the Journey is magnificent.

from Silver Moon