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The Blue Flower Dreaming

If we could give the gift of a lovely thought into the heart of a friend,

You have experienced a world, an utterly fantastic world, but for some reason you are no longer there, and you are left with an incredible yearning to return. But you have not only left it, you have even forgotten what its like, or whether there ever was such place.
And its worse than not remembering, because if you did remember, the place is so utterly different from anything you now relate to, or know, so different to the way you even think.  You would have no words to enable you to grasp it in your mind, let alone to describe it.
But every now and then you see something, hear something, remember something, and its the tiniest of clues but it opens your yearning, and keeps the quest alive.
Sometimes these clues are frustrating. Sometimes you press into them and find nothing. Sometimes you are chased from your search by cruel counterfeits. Sometimes you give in.
There are myriads of people who have carried a deep awareness, memory or yearning through life and died without coming to understand, without finding resolution. Others have compromised and had to live with something that only reminded them of something more.
But don't let go or settle for anything less. You are still waiting, wait in hope.
If you have a memory, a knowing, a yearning, you will embrace the pattern.
I have something to say, something to share with you. Listen with that deep knowing, yearning memory. There will be paradigm shifts, and to follow, let the gossamer thread run through your heart.
Hold to the thread. Listen on the inside.

CHAPTER 1

 
The girl lived by the edge of a big forest in a small cottage in the Northlands with her grandfather.
She had only a vague memory of her mother and father, and knew very little about them.  Her grandfather would inevitably drift off into silent sadness at the mere mention of their names, and not wishing to distress him, she had long ceased asking him questions.
She did have a small silver pendant that her father had given her mother, and the pendant had a tiny flower delicately etched on it by her father.  The pendant was her most treasured possession, and even on the full summer days when the girl would be wearing little else, the pendant never left her neck.
Whilst she was very beautiful, her grandfather's profound eccentricity, and the stories that circulated regarding her apparent inability to conform to the most basic of social mores, ensured that she was not overwhelmed by suitors.
Her grandfather had taught her much, and had told her many beautiful stories that she was able to hear with something other than her ears. She gave the old man much joy, but sometimes he seemed to be happiest when he was alone and lost in his daydreams.
He had once been a wise and famous man, and the girl had gathered that many years ago he had once been an adviser to the old king. Although he never spoke of it, she gathered that when the old king died, the new regime had no time for him, and had shamed and dismissed him from the Court.
Whilst they never travelled, it was not as if they were cut off from the world, as people would often come to visit or to seek her grandfathers advice.  Nevertheless despite such visits, her grandfather now lived an isolated and lonely existence.
This struck the girl with great sadness, but she knew and loved her grandfather deeply on the inside.  At the times when he would withdraw within himself, she would take long walks into her forest, to places she knew where the good things of the inside flowed to the outside.
She was no longer a child, but she retained a special presence about her.  It was a gentle, joyful, innocence, an inquisitive heart, a yearning curiosity that could rest in patience, and watch until the petals of a bud opened to reveal its secrets.  She had learned and experienced much, and her overriding innocence had kept her spirit sweet.
She knew that evil existed, and that there existed alternatives to goodness, but these were foreign places. Immersed in the good, she avoided the scent of them. In her innocence there was a constant joy and hope of good things, a refusal to believe anyone in their innermost being would want to hurt, or lie. And when bad things did arise, she had the gift of forgetting.  She had no interest in remembering dark things. Her curiosity was clean and open, always mindful of the hearts of those she was with. She was utterly open on the inside, and able to go deep, ignoring any dark pathways as if they were not there, perpetually transparent.
Her openness was not merely open, it was open and constantly flowing with love and joy and goodness, and she brought out a matching response in the people who knew her. These were the people who would often come to visit her grandfather, and who could see past the vision of a dreamy girl, more at home in the unseen than the seen.
It was common for those who met her, and who were not distracted by outward appearances to find their own hearts wide open to her and flowing goodness, finding themselves swept out into deep waters of her beautiful universe.
And she was different in other ways too. For one, she knew how to fly. Not outwards like a bird, and not that birds only fly on the outside. She flew with the Virtues on the inside, and she could call anyone from the outside with a clean heart and ears to hear, to join her in flight on the inside if they had the faith to take her hand.
She remembered with affection a young man who had sought out her grandfather the year before and had stayed with them for two moons. Though unaware of the fact, he had learned far more from the girl than he had from her grandfather.
The girl had slipped inside and shared his dreams as he slept, opening journeys through good places with him.  After a week or so within his dreams, his soul was learning to stretch out within the virtues that she knew so well. Another week and he had been able to embrace his own manhood and had lowered his defences of insecurity to the wider expanse.  Again a week later and with his soul strong and full of joy, he was soaring through realms beyond imagination.
It was rare to find, and that sort of faith would double her joy, and send the girl soaring out beyond the realms of mind. On returning, there would be new and beautiful patterns she would find like scattered jewels, living gifts deep within her knowing. Delicate patterns which she would contemplate for days afterwards, waiting for the ways to open to bring them to the outside to give to and bless those she came in contact with.
She wondered if the young man would return.

Whilst he had often gazed at her longingly on the balmy Summer afternoons, he had never recognised her outside his dreams.
She wondered whether one day perhaps he might.

CHAPTER 2

One day she was quietly floating amongst the water lilies of her favourite pool.  The pool sheltered beneath the stretching shady flower laden boughs of cluster of ancient trees deep within the forest, and a particular bird was floating her melody through the warm stillness.
The girl was just beginning to stretch out wide to drink in a fresh flow of exquisite beauty, when she was distracted by a group of fairy-like tiny beings playing by the spring.
Turning to move closer towards them, one of their number broke away and flew around behind her. The girl gave a start, caught unawares by the tiny creature.
The creature hovered above her head as she lay in the water, making her strain her eyes upward.
'You're just imagining me, aren't you?' said the tiny being.
She had never heard a tiny being speak before, at least not 'outside' and in a language she could hear with her ears. It was all a bit strange and stuck her as a very sad thing to say. But she was unruffled, and always quietly self-assured. She leaned back and kicked herself under the water for a second or two, and gave an open-hearted little laugh as she surfaced, having pushed herself backwards a little to see the little creature more comfortably.
'If I agree with you, you'll probably disappear in a puff of fairy smoke, and I wont have that!' she said.
Smiling, the little creature flew down and sat cross-legged on the water by her chest, and with her head tilted to one side, seemed to speak directly to her heart.

Deep within a hearing
and deep within a knowing
where all that is swirling in noise is now still
where knowing sinks deep into being
through depths of sweet love and forgetting
Slow falling drop of pure water
watched by the Loving One as you fall
watched by Love
giving in a moment
of touch and letting go
in the pure holy pool of life
stretching out into the pool of great peace
one with the great loving knowing
forever embraced in the memory of the Loving One
forever alive in his love.
And every drop that falls
calls out to One who speaks
to One who understands.
Whose presence hovers softly
in the awesome Word spoken
And in that moment
goes up as soft and slender lightning
shown without
rejoicing and returning
made alive and burning
a tender song of understanding
the dreaming of creation
creation of the dreaming
'I am Promise, and you're the one!', the tiny being exclaimed with ringing joy, and disappeared in a puff of love that seemed to shower down on the girl like the mist of a waterfall.
This was all a bit much, and left her confused and not a little upset. She shook her head and stood up in the water. The fairies by the spring had gone and the forest began to grow dark. She wondered whether it may have been a bad fairy, though something inside assured her everything was OK.
***
She was wading to the edge of the pool to head back home, when she heard the cry of a child. The cry seemed to be coming from the cavern at the far side of the pool.

She leaned into the water and pushed over to where she thought the sound came from, but on entering the cavern found herself tumbling, falling at what seemed like half speed down a deep chasm.
Down, down and deeper down. She landed as if waking from a dream next to a small dark-skinned child, the one she assumed she had heard.
She looked around her, and realised that there was absolutely nothing else there. Nothing she could see with normal sight.
She had no feelings of fear, just a gently building exhilaration in her heart. She couldn't think why she should feel so happy, or rather, she couldn't see where this growing joy she was aware of could be coming from, but she was alive and she smiled that she hadn't hurt herself in the fall.
If she leant back, she leant back into the deep peace that stretched out and engulfed this place, if she reached up, it was into an exquisite joy, surrounding her inside and out. If she leant one way there was an infinite gentleness, another and there was a clarity of love. If she stayed still, then whatever beauty she was experiencing would build. Aeons seemed to pass, but the time was alive with meaning, and she was patterning and repatterning, in the experience of exploring the dynamic of this place.
She was aware of music and awesome harmonies opening within her, and a thousand beautiful virtues like accompanying instruments were picking up her song. Eventually time itself began to melt, enabling her to move herself within an infinite variety of the virtues at once, within a place that felt like memory.  Despite her capacity reaching out further and further with each fresh nuance and new combination of beauty, eventually her exhilaration built until she came to a place where she thought she couldn't contain the exhilaration any more.  To put it more properly she came to a place where she didn't think she could contain it. Then at that thought, or rather absence of thought, all was still, and she felt a soft blue light begin to flood from within, though not from within anywhere specific, flooding out and into the cavern like perfume.
The light wasn't like ordinary light, as it didn't lighten things it lightened persons, and she began to see afresh. She looked at the child next to her, and felt him smiling with his heart. She hadn't seemed to see him during all the time she had been exploring the insideness of the cavern, but on reflection, she realised that she hadn't in fact been ignoring him at all.
In her experiences and her perceptions of beauty, she had been both hearing and speaking with him, in a way that enabled the other to be fully themselves.  It was a holy place where what would in the realm outside, have seemed only the smallest direction of attention to another would have been totally inappropriate.  Even the smallest thought to or from another in such a state of combining and recombining virtue, would have been dangerous to the integrity of any finite living being.
But now she could perceive his undirected smile speaking to her heart, in the most gentle and non-intrusive silence. His smile was more real than the whole world.
She tilted her head to one side and tried a smile of her own, but as she did, it was as if a deep yearning formed her soul into a question, that she directed through her eyes, and straight to the heart of the child.  Even now her directed attention hit him like a blow, yet he managed to reached deep into peace, and on and out into a pattern of virtues she recognised, opening a deeper smile within her.
This communication was like the tiniest of a hint of the meaning of all things, and the question of her soul was something like a desire to share this meaning with others. The desire to share herself with those who did not understand.
The child's heart stretched wide to receive her question. It was no small feat, and it had a toll. Wider and wider still, he felt her every nuance light within him and what ever it was that had stopped their fall before began to fade, taking them both back further, though in a much slower fall.
This time there could be no stopping until they reached the Dreaming. The place of origins. The Source.
The dark child was wholly and freely given to her question, and as he was more at home in this realm, he was more in awe of its dimensions. His last realisation as who he had known himself to be, was in an awareness that he was heading at light speed towards her perception with no less than all his being. Any other identity he had was left at the place of their last landing.
He committed his soul to the One who was over all and knew exquisite love for the smallest and most intricate of creation.  The One who could speak his pattern out again in a fresh place of hearing.  The dark child released the spirit he could no longer hold, sighed out his surrender, and his light opened out her soul in purity, at the place where nothing unholy could be.
The girl was in a state of infinite awe, in a fountain of pure white light, and watched as stars were born. She heard them speak. They echoed out within her own song. She felt the awesome love, the love that caused her, and all that was, to be.
Despite an intense yearning to merge with this, her loving source, she felt Awesome love hold her identity and being secure like a child gently held in its existence by father and mother. The question that had been her soul was now transformed into an intricate and shimmering gossamer pattern of countless colours and sounds. A question no longer within her, but alive and relating between this place, her deepest being, and the dark child who came into being as she remembered him.
Her mind, if it was still right to call it her mind, was awash with the most beautiful of the ideas of all the ages. Each idea speaking itself, its source, and all who had embraced it, deep within her soul.
She no longer knew things fashioned within language. Language seemed an unnecessary bridge, as all was beautiful, and beautifully connected without its assistance.
Yet pressing deeper, language, freed of need, was a beautiful free creature.  She was an Angel waiting for a word to resonate, and let her resonate.  Caring for the sick, bringing gifts to the imprisoned, food for the starving and hope for the lonely. The friend of poets.
The perfect light shone within.
The girl felt her body fade out from her inner being, and saw that her body too was an angel of communication. She was beautiful, and stood as a perfect unity with Language.
And there she stood, a pure naked awareness, detached though not divorced from language of body. What would have been a fearful death and loneliness in the world above was an opening to life here at the source.
She was, and she was perfectly aware, and perfectly understood, without the slightest effort of self-affirmation.
Having seen, she knew that she could never go back. When a child learns to walk and then to run it does not want to crawl. The girl stretched out her wings in full flight.
And soaring in pure exhilarating joy, a powerful yearning remained. A yearning to share the meaning with those enshrined in body, for those enshrined in language.
Her heart open wide for resolution, and now capable of nourishing, she felt this seed of yearning take root within her soul, within the flood of infinite pure light.
The light built in sweet intensity, and continued to shine within, cleansing every idea to its source.
And then she knew.
Deep within her soul she sensed an opening she could either resist or flow with. She chose to flow.
The girl felt her breath leave her in an updraught of holy awe. An awesome dynamic presence of life that seemed to embrace everything she had ever known. Every living being was sourced within this presence.
A closer awareness saw a Trinity of awesome infinitely personal presence, all three giving to the other, searching out the other, opening, and being freely given in a timeless, infinite, intimate flow of love. She saw within this flow, thoughts and words as brilliant angels in flight among the three united presences, and outwards from this unity in a shaft of pure light and fire.
The girl drank deeply of the light and tasted the colours that patterned in infinitely beautiful ways within her. Like waves of beauty lapping on her shore, yet each was different and each free to touch and release itself on her sandy beach, and return anonymously into the ocean of this awesome intricate personal love.  She recognised them as the myriad virtues of the cave.
There was no thought of holding any particular living pattern, and as she released within herself, she found she knew each tiny pattern as a loving being speaking its word deep within her, and within the awesome flow of the united presence.
Then in the depths of her femininity she sensed another sourcing presence. Different, yet the same. Every perfect personal attribute or pattern was alive within the awesome presence of Father Son and Spirit and within their flow, and yet she also knew the beautiful source of the feminine in a different way. This feminine one was sourced within the fiat of the three presences receiving of the others in their infinite self giving, and sourced in the receiving of the living ideas that flowed between.
She knew herself, and knew within the presence of this one. The word formed within her as she stepped within the shaft of light. She knew unity in Wisdom.
All the glory of the shaft of creative light rose within her as she abandoned all within the flow. She lived the fiat of creation, and felt the pain and overbrimming hope and love.
The Word of the loving One, second person of the Trinity, launched wholly within the space ordained within the holy open heart of the triune God. The loving One, the opener of free awareness to other than himself. Free consciousness laughing, launching out in stars and galaxies and all creation sung.
Held close and deep within this heart of God, she sensed a senseless turning, a turning she could not understand, except with pain. Free consciousness dividing, turning from the face of God. Turning to the void.  It was a horror she had taken for granted on the outside, but that was now impossible to know without her annihilation, other than in the suffering Son of God.
Yet inside this wave of pain there was an overriding hope. She saw the Word become flesh, within a faithful awareness. She knew Wisdom as mother, a humble virgin giving birth.
A wave of pain, a wave of hope, then pain then hope, then pain then hope again, then upwards through the shaft of light.
Cleansed and aware in an unimaginable clarity, her soul burst open with the shaft of white light, within a new and holy song. Her soul reached out a perception of the dark child, and she knew the richness and ecstasy of affirming perfect unity.
The shaft of light now built in heart-rending awe. Flooding up through the chasm of slow falling, its life lifted her like a fresh green stalk.  Pushed up from seed through earth to sky, she emerged as an exquisite flower in blossom, an exquisite blue flower birthed into an enclosed valley of beautiful flowers, trees, streams and living creatures, all beneath a living velvet canopy of living luminaries.
Transformed, the girl allowed herself to be.
The place was awesome. In searching to face and speak herself within this overwhelming beauty, she sent roots as deep as she had been, to draw up goodness and beauty in a response into this altogether wondrous place, thick with life. Each flower and plant was alive and aware as she was. Silent songs were coming from the deepest being of the myriad stars, all in majestic harmony, each voice speaking out its loving message without the larger luminaries overwhelming the smaller. The beauty of the sun, moon and stars sent her into an ecstatic plunge, allowing her to emanate a matching response, to be heard and responded in her own being from the most distant point of light.
This level of personal communion flowing through her finite being was of unspeakable exhilaration and richest intimacy. She was unable to see how it could be maintained without her closing her petals to allow her time to draw breath. Time to take what she saw and heard to the wisdom's depth, to draw strength and goodness to respond. Truly, many of the smaller flowers in this place seemed to go from bud to blossom and return to bud again shimmering in a quiver of holy light, that actually echoed in the sun.
On one particular deep reaching into the Wisdom's depth, she touched and shared a powerful and overwhelming flash of the reaching of a huge tree that she sensed had been in this wondrous garden for a long long time. At this unexpected touch, the tree immediately released its own word in a stream of pure joy, allowing the dream of the tiny blue flower a rich and exotic living space within its ancient awareness, ensuring that she was not swamped by the larger pattern.
And simultaneously within this place, and in her flowerness, she knew the boughs of this tree reaching out above, out and out across, yet without compromising the passage of any of the light or delight of the infinite luminaries above.
She turned her petals to the warm shining of the tree's ancient assuredness. Softly as a breeze through leaves, and in a fresh expanse within her flower being, she received his dream, and the nature and meaning of this wondrous garden deep into her being.
She was within the garden of the first dreaming, as a unique and exquisitely beautiful and individual flower. She was also fully the garden in the purity of her knowing, and more. She felt a comforting counsel in the ancient tree, and drank in the glory of her flowerness from above, beneath, and all around, from the understanding of the stars and the knowing of the garden.
The pattern of creation was. And when all was full, the garden would dream a new pathway for her soul.
In drinking of this wider knowing, she surrendered the nature of her flower and her being into the garden.  And freeing her awareness into the greater whole, she drifted gently into the sleep of exquisite awareness.
 

cont........  chapter 3

Copyright © 1997, 1998 Andrew Moore moorea@ozemail.com.au