Real

I feel a little bit like Dorothy: on her way with her odd companions (sorry George!), to see the Wizard of Oz, feeling hopeful that at last, someone will be able to help them satisfy their deepest desires and help Dorothy get back home.

     Thing is, I am home. And I’m off in little more than a week, together with George, to visit Pieter and Linda in Prague! So what is this that I am feeling?

     I sit quietly, waiting for understanding to come. Susan Boyle is singing Daydream believer. Maybe there’s something in the lyrics that can give me a clue. If nothing happens by chance, then sock it to me, Susan!

     The lyrics are beautiful, gentle and completely beyond me!

Oh, what can it mean

To a daydream believer

And a  homecoming queen?

Indeed!

     So maybe insight will flow out my fingers as I write. Let’s see: I feel hopeful, for one, but for what exactly, I don’t know. A sense of anticipation, as if this trip, this visit, will be a watershed. A shift in consciousness, a clearing in the forest of decisions and options that we find ourselves in. A lifting of the mists so we can see the best road to take from where we are to where we are heading.

     I feel as if we will find ourselves standing quite high up the mountain side and exclaiming in surprise at the view as we come out in the clearing. We have been so busy working our way through the thickets, never realising that we were climbing none the less.

     Yes, that seems to be what I’m feeling. But bubbling, just below the surface of organizing travel insurance and the myriad of things that must keep on running while we’re away, is excitement. A sense of adventure, an anticipation of something new, something completely different to what we know or have seen before.

      Nothing weird or supernatural, but intensely more of the real that we are starting to realize is passing us by because we do not pay attention.

     In a beautiful place like Prague, with snow being forecast from this coming week onwards, attention will not be something we can afford not to pay.

      And the Wizard? He of course ,wasn’t real in Dorothy’s story. He couldn’t provide the help she needed. But it is the journey that proves that what we so desperately seek is already inside of us. Always available. We are home. Always and wherever we are.

     What is real, is really, really simply what is.: here, now, this.

    

All we have to do is wake up, Sleepy dreamers!

So, we’re off to see.

Matilda