A Meeting with the Eternal
Many years ago I was walking down the street in a quiet area of the town. It was sunny and the gardens were green. There was a certain awareness and sensitivity. Then, suddenly, as though new senses were opening, the presence of the eternal was there.
The word ‘eternal’ was not the outcome of conclusive reasoning or evaluation, as when you look at the skies and think “this universe must be infinite and must have always been there” and then see it according to the conceptual conclusion. It was rather like tasting honey and later calling it ‘sweet’ for the sake of communication. Nevertheless, the mind could exclaim with wonder: “Goodness me! There is something that corresponds to the word ‘eternal’!”
The body was like a fish in this ocean of multi-directional energy and indestructible, immense space, something self-sustained, completely independent and containing every sound and being.
‘My’ identity was that and, therefore, no fear. I was not feeling ‘high’ and it was not an ‘experience’. (Only on that day did I see what Krishnamurti meant by the mind-boggling statement that you cannot experience Truth.) It was not a momentary flash of ‘insight’ or a psychosomatic, merely personal intensity; it was a ‘standing outside’ of that field, as the word ‘ecstasy’ implies. ‘I’ felt like a baby learning to crawl, to walk. My ‘identity’ could move from being responsible as a ‘body-person’ soberly relating to another (much more sober, sane, factual than in the ‘normal’ state) to being that endless expanse of living space. And it was there the whole day.
For a moment a fearful thought arose: “What if it will disappear?” The answer was instantaneous: “It is obvious that it has always been here and it will always be here and everywhere, regardless of whether the perception of it closes its doors or not”. The following day it was ‘gone’.
Seeing that it was not the result or creation of an ambitious ego and that it had nothing to do with ‘me’, there was no regret or despair upon its ‘ending’. The ‘me’ naturally confessed its ‘impotence’ in the face of this immensity and ‘prostrated’, not emotionally but as a matter of fact, before it.
Yes, it was a rare jewel, the only eternal jewel, unending Life itself... Perhaps it was a gift. And yet at times I wonder: “What was the point, significance of one day lived in Eternity followed by its ‘disappearance’? Was there anything of lasting value in this event?
Perhaps, perhaps not”.
As for its ‘re-appearance’, as far as I know the mere memory of it and the efforts motivated by this memory can never re-discover or re-produce it. It is not a product. The event cannot be used. And yet there it was! But now that ‘I’ am back, I cannot help asking myself on occasion: “This interest you have in knowing yourself, is it not motivated by this remembrance?” I would say no. It is more like what J. Krishnamurti once said, to the effect that a really interested man who approaches life simply and is aware of suffering asks whether there is a different way to live.