Raureti Ruka TeKorako
Walking the Shores of Eternity
It’s as if you’ve been woken from a deep sleep and you’re trying desperately to get a bearing on your truth, but your mind refuses to cooperate.
You don’t know who you are or where you are, or how you even got to where it is that you are. Your mind is blank of all that you were.
For all of that, there is this deep sense of peace and fulfillment.
You’re lying wet, naked and tired, on top of a silken jade-emerald robe that has been laid out under you, on a beach behind a flimsy windbreak. You begin observing a line of very tall robed people walking in single file along the seashore that is imbued in a soft shimmering light.
There is a howling storm that threatens to carry everything away, yourself included, and you wonder how long it will be before even your threadbare shelter is torn asunder and taken by the wind as well.
Only the line of silent walkers and their apparel appear to be incapable of being impacted by the horrific attention of the tempest. They just keep on walking nonchalantly glancing occasionally outward over the ocean.
The seashore stretches so far into the distance appearing to continue on forever and ever, and so too do the robed walkers.
Checking yourself over, under cover of your lean-to as if needing to confirm your own reality in this strangest of places, you quietly tell yourself, “Something very special must have happened to me to have brought me to this sacred place. I wonder what that was?”
You vaguely remember being tossed and turned and feeling completely protected in the middle of the ocean, but you can’t remember how you landed on this beach, tucked safely away from the storm behind your shelter.
“What I do know,” you whisper to yourself, “is that I am not afraid, and for some reason it seems I had to come here.”
The shoreline, you realize, when you look about you, is on the edge of some extraordinary galaxy that you inherently sense exists somewhere outside the scope of your physical reality. And so you pinch yourself to prove that this is really happening.
There are arcs of incredibly hostile lightning blazing across the sky, a cloudless, forever sky reaching deep into the heavens. You have an unimpeded view into the glorious wonder of the living cosmos. The incredible vista is mind-boggling.
And in the raging wind you are battered with a delicious rainstorm.
A forever shoreline, a forever line of silent remnant that appears impervious to the ferocious elements and a forever sky. In this amazing place, apparently, things don’t get smaller and smaller until they finally disappear from sight. Perspective here just goes on and on and on, on the same scale without ever diminishing – forever and ever.
You watch transfixed the turbulent ocean that brought you here, the thundering of it’s waves as they crash against the sandy shore, the seashore that is imbued in soft, colored, shimmering lights that have infused the waters of the very sea itself.
For some reason or other your eyes have now become attracted to the sand on the beach that lies underneath and around you. What you had mistaken for ordinary grains of sand are unlike anything you have seen before. When you scoop a handful of it up you discover when it flows out through your fingers that it is made up of myriads of fine granular crystals emitting a multiple array of throbbing, living colors.
Colors, some of which you’d never seen before or couldn’t ever have imagined. Hues that when you take the time to look, make you emote feelings you’ve not expressed in a long time. Other extraordinary shades have immediate soothing effects, and others still make you feel excited and more alive than you have ever been…
…Now that you have become consciously aware, you suddenly feel an emerging energy from within the ground gently pulsing under your feet and flowing up inside of you. Even the improbable colors have penetrated your senses, and something, all the while, is shifting your perception.
Very quietly you begin weeping with extraordinary contentment.
Moments pass in reflection.
After a while, you notice as the Noble Ones file by, those that don’t have the protective hoods of their robes covering their heads and faces, have the most beautiful complexions and many of them have lustrous thick long white hair that almost trails in the sand behind them. Even their locks appear to be immune from the rummaging of the wind.
Strung over each individual’s shoulder is a net and occasionally one of the fishers, for that is what the walkers appear to be doing, casts it expertly out into the wind where the mesh sails until it falls back into the sea entangling some type of unsuspecting prize inside of itself.
But you still wonder, why would these strange people be wanting to go fishing in the middle of what seems to be a hurricane and what would they be catching?
Dredging up the courage, because of your state of undress, you suddenly remember the robe beneath you and hurriedly put it on and find that it fits you perfectly and you scamper from your shelter to the next robed passer-by who smiles knowingly at you and quickly wraps you in a fold of Her gown to protect you from yourself and from the howling tempest of the storm and the forks of lightning that are slashing across the topless sky.
Inside the quiet embrace and safe haven, your senses are pleasantly teased by the scent of lilac and you cast your eyes downward in respect, before asking, “Beloved Grandmother, forgive me, a son who knows nothing but the enchantment of the moment – please tell me who am I and where am I, for I have lost my way. What is this unfolding saga that holds me so exquisitely spellbound?”
Looking upward for the grandmother’s reply, you become aware for the first time of the emptiness within the Robe, but then, from within that spacial vacuum, the sweetest voice speaks to your soul.
“Beloved, we are the Grandmothers and Grandfathers of Yore, tossing our nets out into the raging Storms of Attachment, seeking to retrieve those things that could quite easily become the innocent victims of the yearnings and cravings of the heart that might need to come home with us for their own protection.”
“But we will send a sign. We will dispatch Thunder Storms and Lightning Bolts as a signal to those in your previous State who hold an awakened consciousness to show them, we Anahere, we Ancient Guardians, are walking along the Shores of Eternity, gazing across the Oceans of Non Attachment, reminding those who should know better, to become still and at the appropriate time, allow those transient things of the physical to dissipate into the ether where they rightly belong.”
“Oh Noble Grandmother – please continue, please tell me who am I and where am I and how did I get here, for I am surely lost?”
“Beloved, open your heart to the melody of truth and rid yourself of the fantasy of the physical for you have never been lost. In the whole cosmic spectrum of Love, not one speck is unaccounted for. When you come unto that realization, the storms of attachment will abate and the Angels will fold their wings away, for it was we who brought you home from out of the Illusion.”
“I am you and you are we.”
Let the Fires Blaze
Let the Lightning Glow
As Realization Emerges from The Dark
Into the Light