Often he would wonder. Is this really happening? Is Earth an isolated planetary terrarium rotationally rotating and translating through an enigmatically packed vacuum of hostile radiation? How much loss of life is there with the Sixth Mass Extinction? Can it be that we’re in a terminal condition, and in an isolated cosmological spot; lost in space? It seems so unlikely that this would be happening, however, there are so many inhumane elements of world history, so many reports of toxicity, terrifically awful stewardship, and so much evidence of anti social foul play that going dead in the barren cosmic radiation field of space seems like it could actually happen. This is a desolate mind place to be. He had to at least look for some hope, healing, reconciliation, adaptation, accuracy, bliss, and growth. Some alternatives to the apparent overwhelming madness. What, he continued to wonder, is really going on?
In lieu of an extended metaphysical breakdown he decided to try to keep the memories and reflections brief. It was a sense of dread that was prompting the effort to find alternatives to demise. All the research into alternative versions of history, astrology, spirituality, quantum reality, and existence settled into a current body of awareness. Try to stop the mind, clear the senses, and tune in to the immediate. What is? What really is?
Presently he sought out his spirit guide. It had been reasonably short amount of time that he had been getting guidance from the Dee. It had been a riveting calm that had drawn him to solicit help from this guy. With subtle and seemingly unpretentious alacrity the Dee shared insight, wisdom, and what seemed to be prayers in response to inquiry and discussion. The sensitivity of the Dee’s mood alerted him to the idea that this man had been through some heavy stuff. As their time together grew it became apparent there had been some kind of psych anxiety had happened. Had the Dee been psychologically disabled? Maybe. The present conversation paused. He looked into his new guides eyes. He saw it in his guides eyes. He’s a survivor.
Ironically the present search for hope had hit home even before he consciously started it. Deep in the twinkling eye of this older gentleman there was promise. He sensed that the Dee had seen to the limits of tolerance; some irreconcilable witness that can crack people. Whether from within, or without, a gory reality had foisted itself on the Dee. You could see it in his eyes. This guy had made a comeback. When he made eye contact with his guide, it was a calm steady spirit looking back at him with a gaze of enlightened survival. Back from the brink of cataclysmic destruction, and sharing a very blissful soft serene grin. It shows in the pools of another’s soul. Back from the edge of who knows how close to over.
Not every bit of modern world news is dire. Plenty is though. When the hard stuff hits home he starts bumming out, pessimistically burdened, sad, mad, and down. With a look into the eyes one that surely seems to have absorbed, processed, and endured a worst his heart grows again with revival that is supported by much of the his more esoteric study. Lest one forget, every end is a new beginning. The path to wellness won’t always obvious, but it is there. He saw it in the eyes another.