OK, not quite. But hectic for a monk
The move that I’m making, to a new apartment, is better than putting me through a meat grinder or flour sifter.
I’m having to examine each thing and make small and large decisions.
Here’s one large decision.
I’ll no longer be a collector.
I’ve always been a collector. A collector of marbles, dinosaurs, Landmark Classic books, model cars and airplanes.
In 1973, I became an Historian at the National Museum of Man on a one-year contract, and ended up collecting more artifacts for the museum than resided in any other collection, without spending anything.
I had a network of collectors across the country. I’d call that an inveterate collector.
Now again, recently, I began another collection. I’ve been advised not to say what it is lest I get deluged. Why don’t I just pretend and say something I don’t mind getting deluged in: say, “tasteful representations of Archangel Michael.” (Chuckles.) (1)
The shirt
(1) Twice Archangel Michael has appeared to me and on neither occasion did he appear like any of the representations we now have.
He wore jeans and shirts much like the one I wore in an earlier photo (left), but lighter in color. It isn’t surprising that he’d appear the way I then dressed. It made it easy for me to accept him.
In one meeting, he vanished the moment I turned my back and, in the second – a lucid dream – I had a physical experience of him that was both tangible and unmistakable.
The face
I heard his voice, which was melodic, and turned and saw him. He arose from his seat, the bottom part of his body melting into mist, drifted over top of me, and breathed love into my mouth, which, he said, allowed me to remember the dream.
And, though I have no memory of what I did yesterday, I remember that dream to this day.
Both times, he appeared to me the same way. His face resembled Keanu Reeves (right) with softer, perfectly-symmetrical features. He wore his hair in a ponytail, like a departed friend whom I miss to this day. In all respects his presentation probably drew on features that he knew would please me.
I know – and he’s told me – that I could not look upon his real features and live. I could not even hear my spiritual name whispered by him and live.
I’m looking at the matter of collections from the eyes of someone who wishes to streamline before things get hectic and stressful. All talk about building Nova Earth will get very real when the Reval hits and I’ll be blown away by the stresses and strains of it all if I’m clinging to objects.
I need to be able to process the new feelings that will arise and that means I need to be able to remain neutral, normal, and stable in the face of the emotional winds (vasanas, wholesome and unwholesome) that will then blow. I need to have the time for processing and that further means restricting my activities.
That for me increases the importance of reducing my attachments. Batten down the hatches, so to speak.
I speak only for myself of course. I’m in part a monk, by leaning. You may or will be something else. For some who’ve never had anything, I can perfectly understand the felt need to experience and possess. I’ve thought of it as “pent-up demand.” You’re on a different path. Please enjoy and go in peace!
When I say I live the life of a monk, I mean that what’s important to me is my inner world and inner life – less and less my outer world. And contact is most successful between me and others who live the same kind of life.
If someone is critical of my lifestyle, then they call me an “introvert,” “dreamer,” or “hermit.” If they’re generous, they call me a follower of the path of awareness who prefers a life of reflection and contemplation to one of dynamic action.
I can be easily overwhelmed by a world of boardrooms and cocktails. I prefer not to participate. St. Germaine in last week’s Hour with an Angel advised us, after the Reval, to stick to what we know best, and I’ll be following that advice.
I know best and will stick to – and each time circumstances have me re-examine it, the outcome is the same – awareness communication first, high-level vision-making and decision-making in humanitarian philanthropy second.
I don’t want to spend my life in boardrooms or with a cocktail in my hand. I’m the architect of my fate and I’m designing it now.
No more collections. The collector’s impulse – which is like tying myself to the cycle of desire – is about to become a self-imposed burden, as pleasant as it feels.
Items that mean something to me only can come along with me on this next move. And then as unique items only, not part of a collection.
I’m not becoming a renunciate, but I need to live the simple life if I’m to weather the emotional storm.