Out of the Box by Judith Arianne

What force keeps me here and not spinning off the planet at full speed? My intent to stay in this world sometimes puzzles me. There have been so many events leading me away, out of the range of normal, everyday existence. Gravity is not the only reason why I stayed stuck to the earth…

We all have boxes in which we live. Like a turtle's shell, we carry them with us wherever we go. During our journey we may reshape or remodel them, but they are still there. They keep us safe from seeing our true selves as well as blocking entry to those entities whom we believe would be our downfall if allowed entry. Some of us have a fragile box that can be blown about by a small act of reckless navigation or a sneeze from a perceived adversary. The stronger boxes have steel where no cobwebs hang very long. No one ever gets in, lest he look too long and discover the reason for the strength, a tiny hair of belief plastered into the foundation in the hope that it keeps one safe, mighty, and powerful.

In my dreams, my box disappears, and I often bounce from the pavement that I am glued to in physical life. I touch the trees; I swirl to the top of them and pluck a leaf to assure myself that I am indeed flying. Many times as a child, while learning about the angels and saints in my religion classes, I would jump off the top step of the school, spread my arms and land with a thud, failing to get that feeling of lightness I always found in my dreams. Many times I would be walking into a field where there were watchers, and suddenly I would take a leap, whip into the air, boundless, and stay there for quite a while, floating. The feeling was that I was bodiless, yet I was myself looking down at the adults and children pointing at me saying, "There's one! She's one!" and then they would calm down and act as if it was a normal event. I even took trips, and I found people that I knew, waiting, watching, and being a real part of the whole event. Getting from one place to another happened in a blink, and I would return to exactly where I had started although I did not know how I got back.

In school I would drift off into a place that had no rules about staying in your seat. The tap of the stick on my desk from a rigid nun would suddenly pull the ripcord of my invisible parachute as I plummeted from the land of Oz. Learning was not what I was preoccupied with, flying was… freedom was… Wasn't the mind free? Consciousness? Why did I stick so firmly to the earth in my waking, stalking mode?

The Catholic religion gave me its format, as did my teachers and parents. My true agreement was to be born, learn to fly and do magic, stir the masses, see all you can, take notes, leave. Somewhere the order was changed to: you are stuck here, you will serve, you will be guilty, here is your box, you can't get out, you will pay, you are a sinner, and nothing is free! Somehow I could not see what my peers saw - a blank wall with writing on it, rules. No flying allowed - especially without a plane!

If the world is a circle, then life is too! So, I could meet up with myself if I stayed true to who I was at any given moment as life came around and around. Eventually I was bound to see my true image, not the one bought and paid for by parents, teachers, and society at large. Where did I fit in? How could I explain? What was different?

Most of my life, child, adult. to where I am now, I kept a journal of the events in my life. Many of the events I stored in my memory for fear of dying and someone discovering the secrets of my universe on paper! How could I adjust to this life I chose, but was not living? After all, being human is what I wanted. To taste the fruit, sweet and bitter, is better than not tasting it at all. I remember some people saying, "She's in rapture with no return." How little they knew of returns. The general public was not ready for my escapades into the unknown. The land of OZ had to somehow be explained away. Sure my family knew that I had ESP, but alien encounters, telekinesis, etc., etc., could not be aired for public knowledge. This left me more in my assigned box than ever. Was I safe in the box? How far away from it could I actually run?

It seemed for centuries I hid in my box, unable, or not willing to forecast who the real me was. The fear of rejection being too much, retreat seemed the ideal insurance. Even if the box were to suddenly disappear, the mind still felt the presence of a giant barrier. Another gift I tried to ignore was writing, and before the days of "la computer", I wrote and typed my un-reality into a path that would lead me to an awareness I still felt could not be shared with the world. Now, the stories, the events, the awakenings, are suddenly allowable. Time changes and with it ideas. The tools were being born in this dimension. The tools were somewhat dulled but are now sharpened and shiny. My box is dismantled. I have met a teacher who is not rigid.

A teacher of compassion, light, wisdom, and harmony is what we all want and is what I have in my life now. There are no bars and no windows that cannot be opened. They all reside in the mind only. We are all teachers, all students. I was not looking for a teacher per se. However, I must call him teacher, as he has taught me to take that one more step, to trust in who and what I am, not to judge myself too harshly in the world of harshness. To walk with angels sounds like a sci-fi bit from a movie or television play, but I tell you here that I would rather feel the brush of a wing upon my face than the sting of not knowing the divine at all. Even a glimpse into the divine self could not have been possible unless I looked into the face of the teacher.

This teacher comes from humanity, a flesh and bone wise man. He comes from love and gives it freely without attachments. He can be with me forever or disappear tomorrow into the cosmos. He can stand on the bridge to greater awareness and call to me. If I do not go he will not judge me. If I choose to fly or not fly his love is always the same. He has taught me to take back the power that was always there. I am still in training, but now I can fly with my real wings. The gift of flight lies in the heart, the spirit of all we are. I can travel without the box of fear surrounding my every thought, my experience in the physical. We all have gifts, and sometimes we never open them.

My box was tight, stuffy, without the life-giving trust of spirit. What if he or she doesn't like or love me? What if I die tomorrow? What if I can't pay the rent? What if they see me flying? What if I was happy and balanced and loved me? Then all the rest of "what if" would fall away and what would be left would be pure bliss! "What if" sucks the life from us. What if my teacher can't fly? No matter, he has taught me, I do not judge. My teacher has given me training wheels for the undiscovered self. We can tune into the words that matter; we can ignore the rest. When we are at the bottom, a teacher steps in. We do not have to sit at a hard desk with a blackboard staring at us. We get recess. We get study time. We get learning time. Our teacher can be anyone, the butcher, the criminal, the priest, a child. I think it depends on how our clock is wound.

It may take some time to discover the universe and the self residing within if wound too tightly. There is always a teacher standing next to you holding your wings of discovery. Once, that teacher was just like you, and a teacher peeked through a crack in his box and suddenly wings began to grow, and, voila, another enlightened being darts off to help others of his kind. The proverbial apple for the teacher is our spirit waiting to be released. Keep an eye on the teachers, as the world they draw on the blackboard of our lives is easily stepped through. Where do I, or anyone seeking a higher awareness, go? Three steps to the left of divinity, one step for mankind… my wings need adjustments from time to time, but they will always be ready for the flight of eternity.

Judith Arianne was born in Wisconsin and now lives in California. A person with many profound events happening in her life, she is always open to new secrets of the universe. She is an artist, writer, and works with older people who, if given the time, have many life stories that have too long been silent. She loves and cares for the planet as a citizen of the earth and is grateful for the gift of learning that has held such great bounty for her. She can be reached via email at Idyllprincess@aol.com.

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