Oh, Ro-magi-san, I have failed. I already feel my
soul falling down bottomless caverns of darkness and despair. I have failed my
father and my mother, the great father beyond, and you, the richest and surest
being my heart has ever known. Bring forth oblivion for I am ready. I have
nothing more to say. There is nothing more to know. Please spare my dearest and
most beloved mother and father the horror of what has passed and grant them a
sweet dream about my passage into some newly discovered celestial world which
has claimed me as the most bountiful offspring our world has created. Do this
for me, please, Ro-magi-san! I feel my light dimming, and there is much more
joy for this day to be lived in our land. I am ready. I accept. May all be free
from who I am!
Can you be so sure that you have failed, my young traveler?
To what domain have you traveled? And where are you now? How do you measure the
time of your place and the place of your time? You are feeling the shining
ghost of the personal self that still exists inside of you and will never cease
to exist. You are its mystery just as it is your mystery to behold. The heart
of the unknown is a mystery as well as self-reflecting mirrors of being. You
are bold to ask that I lie for you, that I protect your ignorance with a false
flower which your mother and father would see through instantly. For they are
not standing next to you in this room, the Hall of the Whispering Pines. They
exist eternally in your heart on this plane of existence, while you, the most of
you that is, exist in many different domains of the undiscovered universe,
unclaimed by love, wisdom and the knowledge of how infinite being moves
eternally through halls and corridors of its own creation. You have claimed a
piece of your truth, but you will die with that truth unrevealed should you not
perform the task that is still yours to perform.
Of what use is such a mystery, Ro-magi-san? I am still and
unmoving. I do not touch, nor am I touched. I neither live nor die. I neither
love nor suffer. Of what use is such a mystery? Where does it go? What you have
told me means nothing.
It goes to where you stand. Are you asking these questions
out of despair, out of hope, out of an aspiration to arise and know?
None of those things. I only exist with this.
And is that who you choose to be?
What is choosing?
Existence has chosen itself through you. You affirm merely
in the bareness of your asking. You are one conscious affirmation for
existence. Without your affirmation, all of this would cease to exist.
And now, young traveler, the Tree of Life for New America on
this Day of Election is complete with your return. All the other initiates have
returned as well, each chastened in his or her own way about the self-limiting
judgments they carried with them on their travels. We are here to celebrate
this day of renewal and reaffirmation that life will continue, that the cosmos
is a grand and glorious place for eternal discovery, hope, and play. Now all of
you, young and most beloved initiates, I leave you to your parents, to your
friends and community, and to your land. I will return this evening for the
arrival of the Golden Flower. Until then know that love is the way.
Oh, mother and father, I am humbly and gratefully your son.
There is no simpler truth for this moment. Beyond this acknowledgement, however,
I know nothing. My heart bows its head in your presence, for all that I know I
offer back to you, most pitiful as it is. How can it be that you have held me
so long in your hearts? How long have you tolerated my foolishness and
ignorance? Why have you kept me enthralled with life, singing with the birds,
playing with my friends, celebrating birth and death and aspiring beyond into
places and worlds unknown when I am so humbly nothing, so wretchedly
presumptuous that my life has meaning and purpose beyond what we say and do at
this moment. Forgive me, dearest and most beloved parents, for I am nothing but
what I say now, and there is nothing more your son can say.
You are a glorious phantasm of my being, most beloved son.
You cast aside the mystery of my love for you because you are experiencing the
first flush of the undefined source of everything. I am your father, and if you
wish to cry over that in shame, I will leave you to it. When you are ready to
move back into the land of your living and dying, I will be waiting. My father
prepared me well for my initiation into the caverns of personal confusion, and
I came back properly chastened, but in your eyes now I still see the void
peering back. You must grab it by the throat, my son, before it devours you and
your mother dies in undeserved agony. I will be in the fields helping our
people prepare for the Golden Flower. If you cherish the sanctity of your
mother’s heart, you will find a way to come. If you seek to come tonight as you
are now, the ring-pass-not-will come and devour you, and I will not stand in
What do you feel, my son, as your father departs? No greater
man has ever walked this land. Without him New America would have ceased to
exist and the great lands of our world would never have survived their dark
traverse through time. For all of that, you risk crushing him as the father of
your being, as father of the land, the world, and the deepest love of my heart,
which surrenders to him every moment of my existence. What have you to claim, my
son, that would destroy all of that?
What is there to choose from, my mother? Who is the chooser?
Love, my son, and only you can choose.
You are right, my beloved mother, in all things
but this. I do not ask your love or approval. I stand where I am and know that
through which I exist. I will take my stand with the Ro-magi-san tonight
without fear, and if you will stand with me fearless as well, we will bring
honor to the man we love and revere. As you must know, every Day of Election
brings a new uncertainty to master. On this Day, I am that uncertainty, for I
am not bound by the instruments of order that pervade the land; nor do I live
through the expectations of others, regardless of how grand the design of their
living or the magnificence of their hearts. I am the heart of the unknown, and
I now walk among you. You would be right to fear me, for I have no promises to
keep, and the stars themselves will rock in recognition of the fathomless
depths of my being. Let us prepare, mother. The grand artificer of everything is
coming tonight in the shape of a golden flower. [end