THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

The scene: It is springtime in an ancient misty forest on a hillside. It is early evening, and the sun scatters a yellow haze across the forest floor. The stillness of the air is only broken by the distant sound of birds bursting with song. There is a pleasant odor in the air emanating from the aromatic mosses and soft brown earth beneath your feet and mingled with pine from the many ancient trees surrounding you. As you stand in the middle of this old forest, you begin to feel a deep sense of connection to this place, your home, your sense of belonging and unity with Mother Earth.

As your gaze falls gently upon your surroundings, you notice something of an irregularity in a rocky outcropping near you. Upon closer examination, it appears to be the entrance to a cave. “Had this always been here?” you wonder to yourself, “for surely if it had been so, I would have seen it before.” It is as though a magical door had opened in the hillside, beckoning you for exploration. With a feeling of curiosity, you examine the entrance and discover that it is indeed a cave.

Overcome with intrigue, you enter the cave, only to discover that the interior is much larger than expected, and although dim, the walls and floor seem to emit a pale-blue light that illuminates the interior. In this timeless place, you are caused to recall that the ancient Egyptians employed the use of precious stones and minerals in jewelry which would glow different colors depending upon who wore them. You wonder to yourself if the glow is somehow related to your sense of inner peace? You are filled with the kind of awe and joy you recall experiencing as a child when you discovered something new!

As your eyes adjust to the light, you notice a passageway that leads to another, smaller chamber, much the same as the first but this time with a whitish glow. Carved into the back wall of the smaller chamber is a strange symbol that, although you don’t recognize it, seems oddly familiar. Could it be naturally occurring? Is it one of those mysterious symbols left by some unknown shaman of a long-lost civilization? Perhaps it’s an expression of a forgotten secret or a map leading to a strange treasure. Almost instinctively, you place your hand on the symbol, and much to your surprise, your fingertips begin to tingle. You sharply withdraw your hand from this odd sensation! “What was that?” you exclaim out loud.

As if in response to your inquiry, you hear a gentle, feminine voice, deep within you, that softly says, “it is the Living Fire of the Gemrod that seeks your company.” “G-Gem-what?” you ask. “The Gemrod, dear another, and you would do well to replace your hand at once upon that spot, for the present moment does not wait, and once it has passed, it is not possible to reclaim, but only in remorse for what one might have done.”

Cautiously but deliberately, you place your hand upon the symbol, which now seems to sparkle with tiny flecks of silver. Once again, first your fingertips, then your hand, begin to tingle as if you had touched something electric, something powerful.

“What is this place?” you ask.

Again, as if coming from deep inside you, she responds, “this is the hall of awakening, for those who would be stirred from their slumber.”

“Who are you?” you ask.

“I am you, and you are me, and they are we and I, or at least could be if our purposes are aligned…” the voice explained, “…but for now, you may call me ‘Is,’ for you and I are not yet one in purpose.”

With your hand still placed firmly on the symbol, you sense a stirring behind you, like a gentle breeze, cool and vibrant.

“Do not turn around…” commands the voice, this time from behind you, “…for you must not look upon me until you have been balanced, properly conditioned, and cleansed.” “You may remove your hand now, but do not turn around. For, since you have summoned me, I am duty-bound to perform the Rite of Grace and Grant upon you, that you may be prepared for what may be your destiny.”

Upon removing your hand from the symbol, you notice a strange sensation moving up and down your spine, a pulsation that resembles the pressure one feels between two magnets when they are repelling each other. As this sensation builds, you notice a slight ringing in your ears which seems to be coming from the center of your head and radiating outward in all directions.

“Wh-What’s happening…” you exclaim but are interrupted mid-sentence by Is:

“Be silent now. All your life, you’ve asked questions without any effort on your part first to pay the price of understanding. A question at the wrong time informs the knower of the other’s station and deprives the enquirer of the fruit of struggle within oneself. If the knower answers truthfully, the enquirer may think it’s a lie. If the knower answers deceitfully, the enquirer may think it is the truth. Either way, it is useless unless the enquirer already has some understanding gained by personal effort. For, a question at an inopportune time thrice-deprives and only serves to injure your progress. It is better for you to ask nothing of another unless you have first done the work of attempting to understand. For, how can you measure the weight of truth without the scales of understanding?”

“Soon, I will recede,” Is says, “but not depart from you, for what is in me is mine, and what is in you is in me also.” “We will meet again when you have passed the first threshold, which in your language is called Understanding.”

As if enveloped in a cocoon of silence, you ponder her words. Several minutes pass, and you suddenly realize that the ringing in your ears has stopped, and the tingling has subsided, and you know that you are now alone. Cautiously, you look behind you, hoping to see this mysterious figure, but only the cave wall remains.

As you make your way back to the first cave and then into the open air, you are surprised to find that it is already noon the next day! “Was this a dream?”, “Did I fall asleep in the cave?” you wonder to yourself as you try to get your bearings.

After some time passes, you begin to feel hungry, and looking around, you notice a bush dotted with ruby-colored raspberries. “Yes, good,” you think to yourself as you take a handful and begin to eat while still pondering your recent encounter. “Something is different…in me…” you think to yourself.

THE SECOND ENCOUNTER

The Scene: Three months have passed since your strange encounter in the forest, and although you think of it often, the activities of day-to-day life has all but brought into question whether it happened at all. And yet, whether real or imagined, it has left its trace, its mark, within you, for since that encounter, you have noticed a feeling of insulation, a sense of distance building between your inner life and the outer world. At times, especially when you are among others, you have noticed that you feel as though you are awake in a world of sleeping people.

Moreover, you feel restless and wonder how so many people can feel content with just eating, sleeping, and working, day-in and day-out, year after year – just surviving. “What’s the meaning of a life like that?” you often wonder. And yet, you also do these things because you must provide for your physical wellbeing and those you love. This feeling causes a contradiction in you and sometimes even irritability because you sense that there is more but don’t know what to do to find it. “Well, no matter…” you think to yourself, as you muster the resolve to endure another day in servitude. “I must do what I must do…” you think to yourself while being half-aware that saying such things to yourself is but a coping mechanism against despair. “Thank God it’s Friday, and the weekend is almost here!”

You awaken the following day with a ‘spring in your step’ because a friend phoned you the night before and invited you to join him for a trip to the traveling bazaar that’s in town over the weekend.

You meet at the designated place and board a train to your destination. As the train slowly pulls away from the station, you feel a sense of anticipation building in you. You’ve always loved the bazaar, filled with the smells of all sorts of delicacies, vendors trilling over their wares, buskers performing extraordinary acts of juggling, magic, fire breathing, and the like. And, oh! The antiques! “What sorts of rare finds will I encounter?” you think to yourself.

As you look out the window, you imagine you are in a time machine that’s whisking you back to some ancient agora in the Mediterranean.

You’re startled out of your daydream by the words, “So… how’s it going?”. Amidst the revelry of your inner thoughts, you had almost forgotten that you were traveling with your friend. “Oh, pretty good, and you?” you reply as if playing a pre-recorded soundbite. “Not bad,” replies your friend, who then begins to recount every detail of his life at work, his family, and the new TV show he started watching. You nod politely and throw in the occasional “Oh!” or “Yes.” at the appropriate time as if performing a well-rehearsed dialogue to feign interest, even though you had much preferred your own inner thoughts.

The time goes quickly, and before you know it, you’re pulling into the station. The bazaar is a short distance from there, and as you walk, you can feel the excitement build once again. The smell of waffle cones and kababs informs you that you have arrived moments before you spot the entrance.

After walking the circuit once with your friend to familiarize yourself with the layout, you decide to separate and explore the areas that interest each of you the most. “Divide and conquer, eh?” proclaims your friend in his usual jovial manner. After deciding to meet back at that spot in two hours, you part ways.

“Now, where to begin?” “How about a bite to eat?” you think to yourself. “Those kabobs smell amazing!”

A short while later, and with your hunger satiated, you find yourself dipping into first one tent than another, “on the hunt for treasures,” you say. A beautiful Persian rug, an old sewing machine, an antique bicycle, a toy from your childhood, an old coin collection all gather your attention, but nothing catches your interest enough to buy it.

Suddenly, you spot an hourglass; simple, but beautiful. As you examine it closely, you notice the price sticker marked on the bottom: 142.85. “Wow, that’s expensive!” you think to yourself.

Just then, the shopkeeper, an old woman, approaches. “A timeless piece, yes?” she says with a slight whimsical smile. “You should buy it,” she continues, “besides, it’s my birthday – I’m 71 years old today, can you believe it?” she states. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asks.

“Yes,” you concede, “but why so expensive?” you ask. “Look,” you say while flipping it over, “it doesn’t even work.” “The sand doesn’t flow through the hourglass at all.”

“That’s not sand, my friend,” she replies, “It’s salt,” she emphasizes as this statement of fact should clear all confusion. “And besides, it does work!” “But, only to one who understands.”

At hearing the word “understands,” you feel a little uneasy as if you were supposed to remember something… something, you’ve forgotten. “Understands what?” you ask, with slight irritation.

As if moved by lightning, she snatches it from your hand and exclaims, “…that one must first pay the price!”

“But it’s broken!” you argue. “How ‘bout I give you ten for it?” you ask, fully aware that your low-ball offer is likely to cause insult. On ‘principle’ alone, you’re not even sure that you would pay that much if the old shopkeeper conceded.

She replies: “Go now!” while pointing to the exit with a glare in her eyes. “Happily, madam!” you answer as you storm out with indignation.

“How dare she?” “Who does she think she is?” you mutter to yourself. “She’s not going to get many customers with that attitude, that’s for sure!” you continue. You visit a couple more tents, but, flustered by your recent encounter, you find that you’re no longer in the mood for shopping.

Noticing that it’s almost been two hours, you decide to head back to the meeting point.

“How’d you fare?” you hear a voice call from behind. “I made out like a bandit!” your friend says, holding up three full bags of goods like a prize. “Not so good,” you reply, hiding your anger which has now turned to shame. “I just couldn’t find anything I liked,” you say. “Well, I hope you had fun anyway,” your friend replies. “Are you ready to head back?” he asks.

The train ride home seems unusually long as you contemplate the unfortunate event of the day. Now, you’re feeling remorse for your attitude towards the old shopkeeper and embarrassed at how you handled yourself. “I shouldn’t let people get to me,” you think.

Just then, your friend exclaims: “Oh, I almost forgot; I got you something.” “Here it is. Open it!” he says, handing you a small box. You take the box with some hesitation while a tinge of embarrassment spreads through you. “I… I didn’t get you anything…” you say sheepishly.

“Ah! Don’t worry, old friend! I saw this, and something about it made me think of you!” he states. “Besides,” he continues, “It was a steal! The shopkeeper had it marked at 7, but I talked her down to 3!” “I don’t think it works, though, but it sure looks nice.”

“Is… Is it…” you think to yourself? “No, it can’t be!” You cautiously open the box, almost afraid of what you already know to be true. “It’s the hourglass!” you exclaim too loudly. “But how… how did you…” you stammer. “How did you…” Still unable to complete your sentence, your friend interrupts you by saying, “Well, I’m glad you like it!” and then begins to read a magazine, as if entirely oblivious to the shock you’re experiencing.

As you carefully examine the hourglass, you notice that the sticker on the bottom has been removed, and underneath is a symbol. “Wait. I recognize that symbol,” you think to yourself. “Where have I seen this be…” and then it dawns on you, “It’s the symbol from the cave wall!”

As you examine the symbol more closely, you notice words inscribed in a spiral around the perimeter. Straining to make out what it says, you finally read, “The present moment does not wait, and once it has passed, it is not possible to reclaim, but only in remorse for what one might have done.” And you come to realize that somewhere inside you, you understand.

THE THIRD ENCOUNTER

The scene: It has been six months since your first encounter with Is in the cave, and as you look out of your bedroom window, you notice how the leaves are changing and realize that so much has changed in you as well.

Autumn is a time of shedding the old to make room for the new. It is also a harvest time and celebration of one’s hard work. Although the external circumstances of your life have not changed, the restlessness you once felt has now departed, a fact which you attribute to the extraordinary perceptions you’ve had since the hourglass incident.

After completing your morning routine, you decide to go for a walk to take in the splendor of the season, with all its rich, vibrant colors. The air is cool but not cold, and there’s a slight breeze that stirs the fallen leaves, causing them to dance about and float into the air in intricate spirals like the ecstatic dance of the whirling dervishes. “Curios!” you think to yourself, “If one were watching from some distance and didn’t know about the effect of the wind, it would seem that the leaves were dancing on their own accord as though they each have an individual will of their own.” “And yet, it is not so…” your thoughts continue, “…they are in response to a force greater than themselves and have no choice where to go.”

“It occurs to me that existence is much the same as the dance of those leaves and that for the most part, there is no individual will, but only the perception of free choice because we are not aware of the influences that direct the dance of life.”

This revelation causes a tinge of sadness in you because it seems that there is little real choice in human life from this deduction. “One person may be carried in one direction while another may be moved elsewhere – all the while, believing they are responsible for where they’ve arrived,” you think to yourself. “How then is a person to find enlightenment?” you ponder. “Is it simply by chance or a happy accident?” “This can’t be right, and yet I sense the truth in it!”

As you continue your stroll, you come to the shore of a large lake. Still feeling somewhat unsettled by your recent revelation, you decide to have a rest while you ponder it. You close your eyes and merge fully into your senses.

In the distance, you hear the call of seagulls clamoring over little scraps of bread left by other visitors. You take a deep breath in through your nose and note the distinct but faint smell of aquatic life, not at all pleasant, but bringing a certain satisfaction to your senses, nonetheless. As you open your eyes, your gaze gradually becomes fixated on the sparkling surface of the water, reflecting the rays of the morning sun like a million sequins.

In the middle of the lake, you notice a sailboat slowly and artfully tacking back and forth. “I wonder where he’s going,” you think to yourself. And then, it dawns on you. “Of course!” you exclaim. “The answer to my riddle! The skilled sailor does not own the wind and does not take credit for its power, but through knowledgeable action, the sailor can master its force to arrive at a destination.” “This is the secret!” you think to yourself. “The ability to manage one’s ‘sails’ by responding to some influences, and not responding to others, is the key to reaching your destination... enlightenment.”

“You are right, you know,” speaks a soft and familiar voice from behind. Although startled, you do not dare to look back because you had been instructed before not to do so. “You may turn around now,” Is says quietly.

You cautiously turn to see a tall and commanding form of a woman. A cone-shaped silver headdress is upon her dark hair, adorned at each side with golden wings. A long cloak of silver rests upon her shoulders; beneath, she wears a white robe with a broad border of gold, and a golden girdle is about her waist. In her right hand, she holds a bowl filled with water.

“Is?” you ask.

“You are right, you know…” she continues as though she did not hear your question, “but there is more,” she adds. “Like the wind, which is neither good nor bad, those forces that influence humanity are neither good nor evil; they simply exist, independent of humankind. Likewise, though a man may be considered ‘good’ or ‘evil’ in the eyes of another, it cannot be denied that whatever he may be, he does it perfectly. For do you see that if a man, a sailor, sets out to sea intending to go to Spain but ends up in Portugal, it can at least be said that he made it to Portugal, perfectly? He did not sin. He merely ended up somewhere else. Similarly, if a man intends to act kindly towards another, but in the end, becomes ill-tempered, it can be said that he does so with the highest degree of perfection.”

After several minutes of silence, she speaks again.

“You are perplexed,” she states, “but I see that you are not asking for an explanation, which tells me that you have heeded my advice from our last encounter.”

You nod patiently.

“And for this reason,” Is continues, “you must no longer address me as ‘Is’ for it is merely a term of recognition of something existing outside of oneself.” As she hands you the bowl, she continues, “Now, what I made for you must be aimed for in the fair dome of wisdom. Look now upon the sailboat once more and see that the sail aimed for sol holds the understanding which you seek.”

She continues, “When you solve this riddle, you will know my name, and only then may you go to the cave to begin your training.”