It is 7:45 a.m. in Port Moody, British Columbia Canada, and the first day of a new year. I have just started up my computer and I am waiting for the kettle to boil for my morning tea. I look past my window to a scene that is painted on a back drop of silent night not yet melding into daylight.
I am looking for change, for something different than it was last night something that screams out at me "this it is 2005." There is the flickering light across the bay that was winking at me last night. The ocean below my window is tearing itself from the beach drawing itself back into its body as it has done twice a day for centuries. Seagulls fly aimlessly around in circles watching for an opportunity at breakfast. Covering the cool earth and trees beneath it, fresh blankets of snow on the hills remain as they were last night.
What is out there that is 2005? Does the earth know it is one year older? The background of my existence for all purposes is on autopilot. It is cold, uncaring, emotionless, and unrelenting. It is the playground that only I can give meaning to. The meaning of life comes from my room, it comes from me. I am the silent observer that is saying this is 2005 it is my choice to give it meaning. The truth lies within the one that is observing the body move through a three dimensional matrix of physical objects.
The world is a stage; I am the actor/actress. I am the director and give meaning to this brand new year. Without the actuality of my own awareness 2005 will have no meaning for me. It will fade into nothingness and blend into the background that I am watching through my window. If it is just another day, it is my choice and so be it.
A canvas is patiently waiting in front of me, a theme already etched into it which I chose three months ago. It is now my time to paint my body onto the foreground to give the landscape Roy meaning, Roy purpose and Roy life.
Every one of the more than 6 billion individual aspects of soul will do the same thing today. The stories that we will create and read about at the end of this year will come from the colours and the strokes of the brush that we make individually on the canvas over the next year.
It doesn't matter were we are at this moment, how we are living our lives and in what relationship we are in. From this moment on it will always be a choice as to how we will experience it. The stroke of the brush and the colours are ours, no one else's. The notes that we choose to create the song of our life will be ours. The choice to give up our power to another, to leave or come into this world is always ours. The choice to believe what others may say about us or the way we are to live our lives is always ours. No soul can force another into doing anything that they want without the permission of that other soul at some level of consciousness.
Humanity has absolute authority and freedom to create from choices all that it is to experience. In communion with others of his kind, individuals answer to the community. Ultimately man being an individualized piece of the creator, answers only to himself, there is no other. For unconditional love to exist there can be no punishment or reward, no good or bad no conditions for existence other than the natural laws of cause and effect. Freedom will not allow it or it looses its individualism and its meaning.
Concepts are human, they are not absolute and actuality moves within natural laws. Truth is abstract and is as fluid as the tide that is now moving out below my window.
This year will exist only in my mind as I will create it. Every day I must choose whether to move into a relationship or out of it. Every day I will make a choice as to live within my concepts of honesty or dishonesty, truth or lies. Every day I will make a choice to live or to die as I choose. Everyday that I live and become more aware of whom I really am: I will know that there is no running away from myself. I know that death is not an escape; I will bring my thoughts and memory with me. I know that unconditional love will allow me to live my experiences over and over again as I see fit, until I reach a point of awareness that they are no longer working for me and that I have freedom or choice to choose something else. I know that any change comes instantly with a thought about changing.
No one can destroy my soul or rape my mind. The body is expendable and I can get another. I am always free to accept my life on my terms or those of another. Life is always moving, life is who I am. My body is not life; life has given movement to my body.
I now see myself in the first few hours of 2005 the canvas is bare and the paint is fresh, the choices are infinite.
What is it that I am going to do differently from last year? I have last years picture hanging from the walls of my memory. I have a choice to copy it stroke for stroke. Wisdom would allow me to stand back and see what works and does not work. I can make changes, add things, and take things away. It all starts over again with my first stroke. Hmm? which colour do I choose?
Roy E. Klienwachter is an ordained minister,light worker, writer and author of Spiritual New Age Wisdom books written in simple language with the eloguence of Zen wisdom.
http://www.klienwachter.com