On Veils and Mysteries
For a few days last week, thick fog descended on the Dingle Peninsula. It veiled the mountains, hills and sea from view, turning the landscape into a hidden, mysterious world of silver. Gerhard and I decided to go for a walk on the beach one afternoon, thinking the fog would lift. For a brief moment, we saw a glimpse of sun–even a patch of blue sky and green hillside–and then the fog descended again.
For a while we naturally walked in silence. I began to think about a poem by the wonderful Spanish poet, Juan Ramon Jimenez, that I have loved since I was in high school:
I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
and who will remain standing when I die.
–Juan Ramon Jimenez
Lifting Veils and Delving Into Mysteries
I have always been interested in matters of the spirit. In attempting to understand why I am here, what I am meant to do, how I am meant to serve. I long to better know the soul within me, the one who is always with me and who will continue on into other realms once this body that houses my spirit ceases to function.
I sometimes meditate, sometimes visualize, sometimes seek to listen to the wisdom within me and write it down so I do not forget. And yet when I am busy “doing,” this “I who is not I” is so easy to forget and ignore! There is so much in the world that I do not understand. I often feel like I must do everything myself, that it is up to me to push, resist, effort, force. In the end, such constant attempts to row upstream are exhausting. As well as counter-productive.
Paradoxically, in the fog–when all else is silent and hidden–the veils separating my ego from my inner being start to lift and the mysteries start to clear. I know I am never really alone. I know my soul is always with me. I know that all I need to do is put my oars in the boat and allow the current to take me, ever so gently, to the place I am longing to go. My role is to simply breathe deeply, practice gratitude, ask for guidance, and listen.
