I am Stranger in This Land

I am a traveler and I have move beyond the scope of my sight. I am blinded by my ignorance and the more I rub and tear at my vision I am losing more sight and hearing.  The more hearing, I lose the more I am falling but what I knew was bottom I have not touched nor is the ground beneath me.

I am a stranger in a strange land. I am a travel. The signs I followed I recognized from my teaching, but when I entered this realm, those teachings blinded me into this state I smell myself in.

The deity that was of focus left with no tracks, no footprints, no whisper, but only cries that tasted like screams in my own mouth. I am a traveler.

I researched the maps once travels from my shore to this land of spaces. I have heard the stories of time and creation. The only paradises cannot be those that are lost, but those that are unlocked as a result of coercion, reluctance, cajolery and humiliation, their thresholds crossed without calm prescience, or a preliminary perspicacity.  I am a traveler.

When I was young a violent act of self-assertion, which was the culmination of several years of impatient waiting, this served as my boyhood to manhood as I stood in order of the conscious court only to be ordered to my chains from the subconscious ruler and king. I did not control any of these actions, but it rapidly changes my official name from boy to slave. I am a traveler in this strange land even then and I did not have the means.

This is the queen who sits by the king, says I point to you boy, this counsel of despair which would keep the mind out of hell. The tradition is way more gentler in understanding that to live, to hope, to love, is to be failed, to forgive, to be forgiven or to failed forever kept  in the hell you have imagined the ruler. Bow to your inception creation. You have brought this kingdom upon your land of consciousness. You will one day travel I see and as I laugh not, I see you begin to beg for me, and I will teach you this and only this for now is your only chance to see.

I remember when I was young now that I am blinded, and the pain is reaching my fingertips. Somehow, I feel the darkness as I sought the ground of bottom.  I am unable to feel my body fall to the knees I once prayed on. Those nights are now nightmares of a dream I refuse to have. I wanted and expected to be such the greatest traveler Under the mighty Son.

As I keep falling there is something profoundly unphilosophical in the traveler’s handbag of an immediate answer and the disappointment that one will receive through the contrast of twisted ideas. When I look for an esoteric answer to a pain question my ego will hand me the shovel for my grave. I am a traveler in these strange lands.

Written by : Dr Paul W Dyer