A CIRCLE OF SWIFT SONGS

IN A STRANGE LAND all sorts of things can happen; nothing is familiar or predictive and so there are endless possibilities of things you can do in it. Even going far distances in such a land wasn’t necessary; not at all; for as everything in it was new there was something wonderful to find and do right where you were in it. You had hardly to travel a single step without there being something interesting to see. In a strange land you didn’t have to go far to find a satisfying thing.

   But, in a familiar land, one you had lived in for some time, you felt you had either to travel great distances to find what it was you were looking for, or stay put and forget the quest and lose the insight you had that you needed to go somewhere. Inexplicably you were missing something; although it was so ephemeral or vague you could not say exactly what it was.

   If one really felt, that visiting the land of one’s dreams was where one was sure to find what it was that was missing then one would certainly have to go there to find it; for how could you unless you went? Of course, you had ‘to go’ somewhere to find it.

    Distance again.

    One was locked into ‘distance’ as being the way; and for as long as one had not the key.

   But it was in this idea of ‘going somewhere,’ that the key was found; though you will need to do some redefining of it, to find it, and a chain of thought to do it in, as it was a door in your thinking that was locked. For you imagined that you had to go somewhere, to find what it was you were looking for: your very own particular ‘missing bit’ that kept you forever searching . . . and, for just so long as you continued to think like that, the way to Everland was hidden from you.

   But what if there was somewhere just as satisfying as a foreign country, to which you could get to without travelling? A land so fair that even in a blade of grass there were enough intriguing things to write home about that could fill a book! A land of abundance, where everything in it was so full of life it could even tell you your own story. And what if that ‘somewhere,’ was here where you are?

   What if, just as really as there is, across an ocean, a land you have never been to, a different sort of ‘land,’ across another kind of ‘ocean,’ inside you? Where the things in it were, comparatively, more wonderful than all the gems in a jeweller’s shop, more informative than all the books in a library, and more delicious than all the pastries in a bakery . . . and just as fresh . . . and endless? Then the looked for thing would be right where you were, and you would not need to travel, anywhere, at all! And suddenly you saw it!

   It is a certain fact that just as a lily finds its beauty wherever it is, so can you and me and we need not travel an inch. All we truly needed, to be happy and as wise and beautiful as Solomon in all his glory was found right where we are, just as it is for the lilies. They have not to go somewhere their loveliness their mystery is right at their feet.

   We need nothing but our child-eyes to see what is there before us, and seeing, live; and, that deliciously in Everland, the land ever there.

IN A STRANGE LAND all sorts of things can happen; nothing is familiar or predictive and so there are endless possibilities of things you can do in it. Even going far distances in such a land wasn’t necessary; not at all; for as everything in it was new there was something wonderful to find and do right where you were in it. You had hardly to travel a single step without there being something interesting to see. In a strange land you didn’t have to go far to find a satisfying thing.

   But, in a familiar land, one you had lived in for some time, you felt you had either to travel great distances to find what it was you were looking for, or stay put and forget the quest and lose the insight you had that you needed to go somewhere. Inexplicably you were missing something; although it was so ephemeral or vague you could not say exactly what it was.

   If one really felt, that visiting the land of one’s dreams was where one was sure to find what it was that was missing then one would certainly have to go there to find it; for how could you unless you went? Of course, you had ‘to go’ somewhere to find it.

    Distance again.

    One was locked into ‘distance’ as being the way; and for as long as one had not the key.

   But it was in this idea of ‘going somewhere,’ that the key was found; though you will need to do some redefining of it, to find it, and a chain of thought to do it in, as it was a door in your thinking that was locked. For you imagined that you had to go somewhere, to find what it was you were looking for: your very own particular ‘missing bit’ that kept you forever searching . . . and, for just so long as you continued to think like that, the way to Everland was hidden from you.

   But what if there was somewhere just as satisfying as a foreign country, to which you could get to without travelling? A land so fair that even in a blade of grass there were enough intriguing things to write home about that could fill a book! A land of abundance, where everything in it was so full of life it could even tell you your own story. And what if that ‘somewhere,’ was here where you are?

   What if, just as really as there is, across an ocean, a land you have never been to, a different sort of ‘land,’ across another kind of ‘ocean,’ inside you? Where the things in it were, comparatively, more wonderful than all the gems in a jeweller’s shop, more informative than all the books in a library, and more delicious than all the pastries in a bakery . . . and just as fresh . . . and endless? Then the looked for thing would be right where you were, and you would not need to travel, anywhere, at all! And suddenly you saw it!

   It is a certain fact that just as a lily finds its beauty wherever it is, so can you and me and we need not travel an inch. All we truly needed, to be happy and as wise and beautiful as Solomon in all his glory was found right where we are, just as it is for the lilies. They have not to go somewhere their loveliness their mystery is right at their feet.

   We need nothing but our child-eyes to see what is there before us, and seeing, live; and, that deliciously in Everland, the land ever there.