Kismet is what dreams are made of… Most of us think that we are advancing—conquering new grounds, opening new horizons. No doubt, some of us are. Some of us. Very, very few. Most of us are regressing.
We all began in ‘Paradise’ as free spirits. Disembodied units of individualized Consciousness. Then we had been given ‘skins’ (developed physical awareness). Finally we ‘ate’ of the tree of knowledge, i.e.: our physical complexity ‘evolved’ sufficiently to generate thoughts. This alone produced ‘ego’, or the ability to say no. To this day we think that we know better than the dictates of the Universal Laws that organized, sustained, and continue to take corrective measures to assure that the Universe in its near-infinite diversity survives.
Yet, at times, we all experience an ephemeral feeling of hunger—a longing to recapture that elusive sense of belonging. We are trying to find our way back. To Paradise? To the time when we were all One?
It seems to be a one-way trip. Only the trick is not to return to Paradise with empty hands.
Somewhere along the journey of life, we lost the awareness of being an integral part of the Whole—whether we call it God, the Universe, or Omnipresent Consciousness—is of no consequence. Religions come and go, the Universe remains. As do the Universal Laws.
Some people still feel this sense of belonging. We call them mystics. They are people who no longer suffer from the sense of alienation. They are people who realize that the intellect, which can produce atom bombs, cannot understand all the intricacies of Universal Laws. They, the mystics, resort to reaching into their unconscious, which, it seems, is the only connection we have with the Whole. It is beyond the limitations of conscious mind.
Richard Feynman insisted that the universe is more wonderful than we can imagine. He was awarded Nobel Prize for physics, and was never declared a saint. Yet, surely, he was among the greatest of mystics. He reached beyond the mind, beyond imagination. At one time he said:
“Tell your son to stop trying to fill your head with science —
—for to fill your heart with love is enough!”
Those, my friends, are words of a mystic. They are words of a man who is cognizant of the Whole—of Universal Oneness. For, surely, that is what love is. It is the awareness of you and I being one. Indivisible. In Universal, indivisible union. This alone is the mystery of love.
I wrote a book, actually a trilogy, and the last part deals with a boy, later a man, who senses acute discomfort in the feeling of being ‘apart’. He is longing for an intangible union. What sets him apart is that he remains faithful to his kismet. He refuses to accept the alienation that people exhibit towards each other. Was he a saint? Or was he merely what we are all intended to be. Let me know what you think.
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