A seekers path...

The days when it did not rain I often took long walks along the beach. Collecting seashells and beutiful images of the ocean and the sky making love by the horizion. One day I found a little cover by the upper coastline. A straw and wood constuction someone had tied together and nail to the ground with sticks. Due to the heavy rain it had sacked a little but I found a good and strong piece of wood to raise the roof and manage to staple to it a piece of plastic so that there became a tent underneath the straw. From inside the little hut I had a great wiew of the ocean and still I´d be safe from wet in case I got caught in a shower. This day I sat down to meditate upon the mening of thinking and the balance with that and the state of not-thinking . I had often listened to reflections upon Truth. What is true and how do we respond to it. Since Thought often dominate in the narrow space of our focus, peace seldom get the chance to reign, and when it does, thought emediatly wonder why it´s quiet and what we managed to do to achieve that state. And so the moment is gone. But without that conection with serenity and peace, we have no chance to understand who we are and what is true.

To begin with, I had always believed in some sertain thoughts concerning my pharents, my childhood and the thoughts about the world I´d inherit. But theese thoughts had, when spoken out loud in the prescence of my pharents, met resistance and disregards and it turned out that the thoughts that I had held as a truth belonged only to me and were somewhat a construction of memories and emotiones put together from different events. Therefore, I had for many years held true what now seamed to unfold as a fiction of my mind. These made-up truths had not only haunted me in my thoughts but effected me until now to act and react acording to the wounds and hurts conected to them. I had become part of who I thought I were, becuase of these actions and therefor kept on holding them for real and also kept on trying to heal the emotiones caused by the actual moment, that I thought I remembered. Like a dog trying to catch my own tale, except I had non to begin with...

Feeling rather stupid I came to think about other so-called truths that lived inside of me. Thoughts about my body and how I tried to stay in shape all the time, believing I had to to be atractive or happy perhaps. Thoughts about who I were to become and how I often felt more like a victim of sircumstances rather than the master of my own future. How often I had played the part of vounded child, even counsciously, in situations were I did not know how to handle a conflict. Why did I do that? Why did I react as on instinct and old patterns and not as the grown up I had become?
"Because you are, also, that child."
The voice answerd even before I had pronunced the question through in my mind.
"I know I am that child. But I am also grown up. I should have lurned to act acording to a grown up, should´nt I?"
"These are your judgements..."
My judgements. Off course. I thought I behaved wrong. Judged myself as childish.
"How can I lurn to behave, or react in a more afficient way?"
"Observe."
My mind filled in by itself. As we are children we lurn by observing others. Just because we have lived to be grown up it does´nt mean we stop observe and lurn, though we might not be aware that we do. New questions formed in my head. Am I unaware about how mutch I lurn by observing others and how mutch do I acually behave acording to what I have lurned? Am I being merely a puppet by society? The thought made me feel sad and a little uncomfortable.
"God, can I not decide for myself what I want to lurn and take to heart?"
"I gave you free will, did´nt I?"
"Yes... but...can I choose how to lurn to be?"
"Off course you can. Why do you think people search for comunities to belong to? The Budhist have the Sanga as Christians have the church. Muslims all turn their heads towards Mecka..."
"Aha, okay... Yes I see now... But I have never had only one Guru, religion or comunity, yet I have always longed for this feeling of belonging..."
The silence talked back to me. The image of the neverending sea. I had never made a choise to follow anyone. Always to proud and unresonable to bend my values. Perhaps because no matter which master, religious doctrine, fatherfigure or loved one there always seamed to be blank spots and puzzlepieces missing. There were right about no perfect teacher or teaching. Also, both Budha and Jesus said to the people; this is my way, you must follw yours. Still everyone ended up following and copying their every single step. Eager to end up at the same spot, to become like them. This conflict were somehow always ongoing inside of me to. The conflict inbetween being independant and being openhearted. I had had to many experiences of being let down when trusting in others or alowing myself to feel comfortable and somewhat safe in the company of others. At the same time I longed for nothing else and nothing more then to do just that. Together with the feeling of never being good enough, never really belonging, it created a discordance that I found made it hard for me to live in peace when among others. The mere thought made my stomach turn into a tight knot and my heart ache. A sadness so strong and owerwhelming it made me want to cry out in despair.
"God...?"
"Yes...?"
"I want to become like you."
"You are."
"But how can I know I am, when I do not follow any rules?"
"You feel. Don´t you?"
"Yes... but the feeling is hard to stick to sometimes... I easily get lost... And I feel so alone, God.
I wish there were a religion I could stick to, that I felt were as much mine as everybody elses."
"There is. It´s called the heart."
Sadness overflooded my insides and tears welled up and wet my cheaks. At the same time a fine rain began to fall. Carefull and humble drops, ever so smoothly touching the sand and the water as if they did´nt whant to disturb. My religion, I thought, off course it´s the heart. It has always bin.

A man with a child at hand walked by and along the shoreline, leaving footprints in the sand like a bracelet. The heart, I thought, is the point were God meets with man and were people meet eachother. Like the axle in a wheel, the sun in the solarsystem. Whatever we live, whatever we lurn from the surounding world, it´s in the heart truth lies. The point of peace that have no name, no description, no explanation but were all truth is to find. Beyond understanding, beyond reason is God, but within our expanding hearts. I noticed I smiled. Sitting, as I did, in lotus position underneath the shelter I thought I must look like a budha wanna-be. Perhaps he was just like me, searching for truth beyond life. Perheps he to found in his own heart, an expanding place, a sun of peace and understood that there is nothing to find but the choice of being there at the same time as being alive.
The soft rain stopped and instead an orange sun slowly sank towards the ocean as I got up and strolled back to the bungalow. Following the footprints in the oposite direction, leaving a third pair of prints in the sand, one more string of beads along the bracelet.