Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

said. But yes, one of them was here, not too long before you came.

I somehow knew that I had to think about this, and knew not to ask about it.

I was going to ask something else instead, when she beat me to it, intercepting my thought, Keep meditating. Truths have to be earned, and you need patience for them all. You can’t get all the answers in one go. Life wouldn’t be worth living otherwise. Life wouldn’t be life…All you can do just now is keep going and love. Spread love everywhere. Listen, I have to go now, but take care. I love you. And I am here anytime if you want to come back. But before you go, she reached behind her right ear and pulled out one of the long white feathers, Take this.

Thank you, I said.

To remember this experience. And remember you are never alone. Especially in nature, you are never alone.

I hugged her again, and it entered me- Don’t doubt. Children don’t doubt. They are aware. And you attack yourself too much...You’re knowing yourself, now love yourself.

She beamed that white smile, and said Are you ready? I said yes, and she held my hands in hers and we went up, up through the ground, up through the earth, and then we were back outside the cave. Lots of love to you, she said at the entrance. Do you want me to come with you to the gate, or are you going to stay a while?

I’m okay, thanks, I’m going to look around, I said. And we said goodbye.

I turned back towards the garden and that huge beanstalk, and I thought of looking around, maybe talking to someone else. But my head was throbbing with information. There was only so much I could take in. And I thought I should process all of this stuff I had learned. So instead I went through the grass, past the bench, beyond the people towards the door in the wall. I had one last look back at the beanstalk and at the happy people playing.

I closed the door, crossed over the bridge, went down the riverside under the colourful branches of the trees. Then through the field, coming down the slope till I was at the gate. I opened the gate and went through. I felt my toes, and my fingers. My chest going in and out. And I heard the whispering wind that blew through the forest.

I was conscious of the oak next to me. The birds were singing, the stream sounded in the distance. A cold rush went up my spine and I shivered. I rose to my feet. Thank you so much! I said to the tree.

You’re welcome, the tree replied. Anytime.

I love you.

We love you too.

I felt amazing. The love from Linda was still in me, and I couldn’t imagine feeling anything as powerful. I felt risen in my mind, risen in my awareness, risen in knowledge and truth, risen in my soul. I was physically shaking, had a cold tingly feeling running through me. I jogged and skipped back up to the tent. It was a bit  like the energy from the cold-water bathing, but a hundred times stronger.

I boiled some water and poured myself a green tea, lifting the cup slowly to my mouth and sipping it even slower. I savoured the taste as it ran down my throat, imagining it running down into my belly. My body is a temple, I thought.

I took another loud sip, and enjoyed the sound of it, and the gulp as I swallowed. My contented sigh relaxed me even more. I tuned in to the sound of the light breeze, the sound of the stream and the birds. And I looked in wonder at the beautiful, beautiful world around me, and at the interesting, mechanical motions of my arm, as it placed the cup on the ground.

My back pushed my weight down into my hips, which pushed down into my knees, which pushed down into the balls of my feet as I stood up. I walked in slow motion into the tent, and came back out with my notebook.

Chapter 55

I sat on one of the rocks next to the fireplace, extra aware of the pressure on my joints and my bum as I slowly came down. Health is everything, I thought. With good health you can do anything. I took a deep breath into my lungs, and thanked the trees around me for that breath, then I opened my notebook and brought down my pen. The words flowed out prodigiously. Everything I’d seen and been told coming through and pouring out. I wrote and wrote and wrote, till my wrist was sore, then I reluctantly dropped the pen. I looked down the hill, and above to the mountains. I felt a loud calling to go down to the loch, so I left my cup in the grass and started down with slow, graceful movements. I tried to keep my spine straight and tall as I came around the bent, baby trees and approached the road. Look at you now, talking to trees, and imaginary spirits. What has become of you? But I’m happy now, so who cares?

So the trees are alive. Have a spirit. A consciousness. An intelligence even. Maybe they are smarter than us? They’ve survived on this planet for longer.

We come from God and return to the thing called God.

That vivid dream. Was it God speaking to me?  The women coming down the mountain. We all come from the same consciousness, and it is a part of us, and we go back to it. From and to the thing called God. Linda said the reason for life was to learn and to grow. The object is knowledge and to find truth, and that reality is all around us. Is that what