The World has many voices.
We listen to them all.
We believe many of them.
We are pulled, pushed, nudged, awakened, sedated, seduced, mystified, bewildered and entertained by these voices.
We rarely question.
We have an inner voice, but we know it not.
Why “not”?
Well, consider this: there’s the baby crying. Crying for something simple, basic, fundamental. Crying for something that its ‘insides’ need – perhaps being held, perhaps warmth, perhaps love, perhaps support. So the mother comes and dangles the gaudy fluorescent toy in front of the baby’s distorted face.
The Outer Voice cajoles, invites, interprets, seduces. And this is all “accepted” – because what mother in her right mind, dazzled by distractions herself, would not want 20 minutes of free child-care from a warm fuzzy ball? And the long and irrevocable journey into the world of distraction and pseudo-fulfillment has begun for the unwary child.
And here we are, thirty-something years later. Fifty-something years later. Ninety-something years later. Drooling at the sound of a new BMW, titillated by the graphics capabilities of our new software, asleep to the lull of TV game-show music in our geriatric rest-home. And our life proceeds along this badly-paved road, this fundamentally empty foundation of existence. This Theatre-of-the-Absurd that we walk in, Walmart Zombies, every day of our existence.
No one questions, no one complains, very few whimper.
And yet, the heart at the core of it all, the Invisible Witness that we all hold inside us, is horrified by this. Terrified by this. Suspicious and uncertain of this … because somewhere, deep inside, we all know it’s illusion. We all know it’s fake beyond belief. We all know we’re kids in a Candy Store, kidnapped by a Magician of astounding capability.
We all know the true calling of our soul is not the lull of familial voices, the din of the Television set, the iron-clad obligations of bosses, bankers, investment brokers. Some bird inside of us, some deeply-wounded, deeply drugged, deeply imprisoned bird – longs to fly. Longs to forsake all the “shoulds” and “musts” and “have-to’s” … and simply fly.
“Fly” – because flying is its nature.
“Fly” – because flying is the one sensation that reminds us of our hearts’ true capabilities: immeasurable love, absolute wholeness, irrevocable surrender.
“Fly” – because in “flying”, we re-capture who we truly are: our secret essence, our lost and compromised freedom, our true, majestic and beautiful voice.
Although the voice of this imprisoned bird is small, and somewhat “unimportant” compared to the raunchy clangings of everyday life, this voice is our most important possession, the most priceless jewel in our wardrobe of obligations.
This voice is the Sweetness of the Divine itself, longing to take its true form in our existence.
