Sitting in a railway carriage as it pulls out from Charing Cross station (or Amsterdam, Buenos Aires, Montreal) we depart the city and travel along tracks that were forged in smelters and poured into moulds. Traversing the fields, we view the cows, horses, crows, through the rectangular frame of our coach window.
Recognizing that lower is on a continuum with higher, we feel the padded seat beneath us, appreciate the landscape passing before our mind’s eye (the click-click-clicking of the wheels on the tracks, the ding-ding-dinging as children wave from cars parked at the crossings), the slow turning of Gaia on her axis as she orbits our Sun within our solar system and, moving out further still, the clouds of interstellar gas from which our home planet congealed so long ago.
Travelling in a time that enables all to dance before us and in us, abiding as a child of a space that allows all this to rise and fall, like waves rolling onto the beach of awareness—a fathoming of a sea in which all is knowing and knowable—we begin to merge into this buoyant realm and relax our desperate struggle to stay afloat on its surface. Sinking into the lower we discover the higher within the dancing wholeness of being.