Here is the next part of Purnima (Book 7 of Waldmeer)
Urgent and Confidential
It was late morning before there was enough sun, on this biting mid-June morning, for Merlyn to sit outside her small rented flat. She sat there doing nothing, thinking nothing, staring at the sea below. This spot was the only place, at her home, where she could see the sea. It was worth sitting in the cold – coat, beanie, scarf, gloves. Anyway, cold or not, being outside always seems to change our perspective. It changes things that can best do with a change. The wind dismantles the heaviness, the light reorients the mind, the greenness invigorates hope, and the entire majestic dynamic of nature reminds us of our insignificance and also of our absolute significance.
Eventually, Merlyn checked her emails and read one from Prana Community marked Urgent and Confidential.
Here is the beginning of Purnima (Book 7 of Waldmeer)!
Seeing the Totality
A full moon evening, late in May, in Waldmeer:
Purnima means full moon. Full moons are auspicious occasions for new beginnings, and so we begin; again. Merlyn and Gabriel stood awkwardly at the entrance of Twenty Mile Track. Awkward because they barely knew each other, and this seemed too big an adventure for virtual strangers. Nevertheless, there they were, brought together by some unknown force.
Yesterday was Anzac Day, in Australia, which is when servicemen and women are remembered and honoured. It is also when the shops don’t open till 1 p.m. As it’s a once-a-year phenomenon, people often forget. I, along with a growing collection of citizens, stood outside the local supermarket waiting for it to open. The local homeless man sat next to the entrance, ready for donations. He probably isn’t homeless but I can’t call him a beggar because he is too polite and dignified. He has a profession – he asks for money.
“Got a few spare coins, love?” he always asks. If you say no, he doesn’t object. If you give him something, he always says, “Thanks, love.”
The human psyche gets in the way of spiritual progress. Without understanding it, we will be fighting an invisible enemy. As soon as it becomes more visible to us, its days are numbered. Rather than trying to delete our mental chatter in meditation, it helps to look at it objectively and go into it. The chatter tells us what we are thinking and what our fears and angers are.
In the beginning years of my consciousness-awareness, during my long daily walks, I would start off just naturally thinking about all the things that were currently preoccupying the surface of my mind. It’s easy. You go with the stream of thought. However, rather than becoming blindly immersed in the thoughts, I would watch them. I didn’t stop them. I let them continue, but I would watch and ask myself certain questions:
What are my fears at this moment? Am I sad or grieving anything? Am I angry with anyone? Do I want something? What are my thoughts telling me?
My doctor didn’t beckon me into her consulting room with her usual cheery greeting. Noted but unconcerned, I entered.
She paused for dramatic effect and said, “I suppose you could tell by my message that it isn’t good news.”
She looked at me to make sure that I was suitably concerned. The receptionist phoned, a few days earlier, asking me to make an immediate appointment to discuss test results. I explained that I was interstate visiting family and was told that a few days wait would be fine. Then, I filed the issue in the back of my mind feeling that all would be well.