Part Six: The Heart of the Unknown

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 the way.

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 Part 6]