WG logo

Something I Wanted

Fred Houpt
[boyboy_8@yahoo.com]

I had been through this many times before. The light, the tunnel, the lifting up, the helping hands. The smiles, the euphoria, all like I had been rescued from a terrible mine disaster, where all my mates had perished and I alone emerged. All those damned smiling faces, greeting me again like I had won some hugely important endurance race. This time around I just relaxed into the routine, laughing in my mind that I actually remembered all the steps, each one more charming than the last. Recalling, even though it was but another lifetime, falling off of me like very old skin that I was glad to cast off. Of course I was somewhat glad to be back, finally away from all those temporary weights that turned my heart to leather, my mind to tiny cinders of sand. Relieved to be rid of the particles that clung to me like dirty iron filings, attracted to me no doubt by my desires. I knew or as I say, I remembered the routine and I relaxed into the sleeping, eating, sunning myself, swimming in the surf, laughing and singing. This was quite nice really. Seemed to be well worth dying over. Then came the interview. This time it would be different, I said to my self.

           I awoke at some point and saw that I had been asleep on a very comfortable bed, perhaps a very thick futon; it didn't matter. I got up and stretched and noticed that there was a door to the room, the room being made of some sort of thatch like you see in Hawaii. I knew what I had to do. I opened the door and it led to a darkened passageway into another realm. It just seemed to arch upwards out of sight and would have been invisible had I not let me eyes adjust. There were also sounds, like distant, barely ascertainable music. But, it was there. I started through the doorway and the movement of my body inside made the path light up, gently, smoothly, with undulating and soft, loving colours following my footsteps and breaths. It was just so sweet. I kept on walking I don't know how long and with each step the path grew brighter until I was in a new place altogether, quite distinct. The aroma of lilac and lily collided with jasmine and oranges. And there were others. At some point I slowed down and stopped in my tracks. There it was. His home or abode or whatever it was. The sentry guards had been warned of my coming. They turned down their brilliance a few octaves so as to not upset my perception. They had no sense of humour these guards but one never had the notion of making trouble with them either. I hesitated at what I suppose was a door and then it slid slowly open, inward and I walked in. It closed behind me. Inside was a small room with a gentle fire in the middle and sort of like seats or cushions all around. In front of the fire on one of those seats was an old looking man who sort of looked like Merlin or something out of our fairy tails. He beckoned me to sit down. I did. He spoke softly and calmly sounding very relaxed and very old.

           "You know", He said, "that I have taken on this form just for you and that it's always different, depending on what is requested."

           "Yes", I said, "I understand."

           He told me that this form was somehow pleasant to me and made me relaxed and would help me to open up and receive. I nodded my head up and down.

           "You've made yourself comfortable these last few months, have you?" He said.

           "Yes, I said, I feel so much better now, thanks."

           "It's the least we can do," He said.

           "Yes," I said. "I suppose it is. "

           "You're still sad, aren't you?" He went on.

           "No, no really I feel just fine, thanks" I almost interrupted him.

           "You're still sad, aren't you?" He said again.

           It was useless, you know, trying to fool Him. Even if I had felt wonderful, He still knew what I did not know or else He was looking at something I had hidden very well from myself.

           "No, really, I am delighted to be here."

           He put a single finger on my wrist, and my arm spun a bit over to pointing my hands open. He then opened his hands and placed them on mine. He just left them there for a few seconds and I suddenly felt my heart or at least a part of my heart that I had not noticed, open like bellows that were closed to air for centuries. I had actually not noticed this part of my essence since I left that life behind me. My eyes were brimming over with tears and He said again, so softly:

           "You're still sad, aren't you?"

           "Yes," I sputtered.

           "I know," He said.

           Of course He knew. I hated when He did that. It was the softest sort of slap you could ever imagine, having Him tell you that He knew. Of course He knew. It was a few more seconds before He touched my wrist again and then I felt my heart almost flip right over. But, my breathing grew steadier and my heart stopped feeling like it was tearing in two and I could finally lift my head up off my chest.

           "Better now?" he said.

           "Yes, thanks."

           "Well then, shall we have our chat now or would you like to return another time?"

           I looked Him straight in the face, without flinching and said quite clearly: "You have to be kidding, right? I spent years and years in that lifetime rehearsing over and over again what I would say and how I would say it and now You're asking me if I'd like to put it all off? No, please, don't hurt me with that question. I want to do this now."

           "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings just then." He seemed quite pained when I heard Him say that, like He really meant it. But then again, He always did mean it, didn't He?

           We sat quietly for a while. He had eternity and well, so did I. There was nothing in the entire cosmos of cosmos He had to go running out to do. I was all His and I could stay as long as I wished. I got up from the seat and started to move around the room. I was getting ready to say what I wanted to say and I was also getting tense about the whole thing. He knew this and allowed me to pace.

           "Take it slowly," He said, and I felt better. I sat down again and looked at Him again and I started to speak, or at least I tried to.

           "I promised myself that when I saw You again I would spit into Your face how much I detested You and Your plans and Your ways and Your bloody awful way of treating me. I promised myself that I would force you to answer at least two questions."

           At the hesitation in my speech, He said, "By all means ask. That's why we're here."

           "My first question is, is it not true that You heard all my prayers, my begging, my crying, my pleading, my heartbreaks and my sorrows and that no matter how many times I turned to You, nothing of You was seen to be present to me, that in fact I saw with my own eyes that You did not come or answer me."

           "Yes. You are correct in your perception. I did not answer you directly as you wished."

           "Why" I said. And then I broke down and sobbed and cried like someone who has just seen his pet dog run over by a car, like a parent who has lost a child, like all broken hearts cry. "Why" I said again. "Why would You do that to me? Why would You destroy me with doubt, with grief, with endless rage? Why would You encourage me through so many messages, so many books, prophets, so many urgings to convince me to keep on praying when You had no intention of answering me in the first place? Can You not see that this painted a picture of You as the most horrid and black of conceptions I could imagine?"

           "Yes," He said, quietly. "Yes, I can see how you felt that, all along."

           "Why?" I said again. "What did I ever do to You that would make You want to visit so much unhappiness on me? What?"

           "Nothing, really. Nothing at all."

           That's all He said.

           I was dumbstruck.

           "So, why did you treat me like that?"

           "To teach you many things." He replied.

           "Teach me what? To hate You and to wish to gouge out Your heart and to set it on fire and offer it to the demons to feast on? Teach me! I believed that You were nothing more than a tower of heartlessness, a liar, some sort of being who could not rest until He heard me unhappy every day!" By this time I was really getting agitated. I couldn't believe that this was all of the answer I was going to get.

           "Yes, teach you many things. Do you recall? In that life did you think that those awfully painful thoughts were completely real? Did you feel them so deeply that you identified with them to such an extent that you believed them to be true and that your conclusions were correct and that I must be a very great evil and the world I had put you in was nothing but a maze of pain and suffering?"

           I nodded my head up and down.

           "Well, then, you've already learned something from it have you not?"

           I did not see where He was going with this. I know I looked puzzled.

           "You really believed in all those dark feelings, did you not?" He said again.

           "Yes" I said, I really believed in them. They all seemed as real to me as any thing else I could define."

           He interrupted me, "Like Love, perhaps? And compassion and generosity of spirit?"

           "Yes" I said, "like those feelings and others as well."

           "Yes," He said. "That's the point of what you learned."

           We sat quietly for a while, my mind trying to make sense of this.

           "You don't understand at all, do you?" He said.

           "No, as you can see, I don't."

           "I'll explain more," He said. "You are a good soul, my child. A very good soul and you have refused to believe in all of My creation and you have not let yourself see all of My creation because you have a tremendous hatred for some parts."

           He put up His hand to touch my lips to silence my interruption. He continued.

           "I know. You hate that part, don't you? The part when I strip you bare and point to something that you judge to be ugly or putrid or whatever words come to your mind. Things you are so convinced have no place in My creation. Well, I have news for you: I create it all and for My purposes. Most of My creation has no idea why, does not want to know why and usually ends up getting shown few explanations, especially in the ways I have shown you. And the reason most of Creation is not interested is because of the schisms that happened early on in Creation, which We here are very busy trying to balance and heal, all this long time."

           He stopped and just in time. I had to ask.

           "But you had the choice to create in this or any way. It is Your creation, not ours so why blame it on your children?"

           "Who said I was blaming anyone?"

           "If You're not blaming anyone then why did it come out this way? Why did You create us this way? Why are we so mixed up that You have to spend all Your time correcting us, correcting Your creation?"

           "Good question. Very good question. I could have created Creation with no schisms. I really could have you know. But, I looked into the farthest depths of future histories, all of it, too vast for you to think about, but try anyway. I looked into the farthest reaches of how it would all unfold and it was flat. Far too flat. Creation would have flat-lined, to use a human term, in a shorter reference than I felt comfortable with. In other words, it was going to be one big boring place where the only ones who would have been happy would have been the celestial creatures. None of the physical creatures would have had enough edge in them to try the borders of their own wills and spirits. They would have sought out comfort over adventure, a soft place over tall walls and nothing would have come of it except listless, soft balls of light. My creation would have turned itself inside out to please Me. I found the whole perspective very upsetting and more disappointing than I wish to comment any more on. I decided then and there that Creation had to have more spice to it. So I decided to put the unknown of My own Free Will into it, reckoning that with the right application of it, My creation would light up and with the wrong application of it my creation would fill with blood and death. The choices would be up to My creation and the bets were off on how it would unfold. Well, almost off. I knew what the outcome would be. I can't help it, you know. I always know. It's just one of My abilities. Anyway, as I was saying, I decided to put some unknowns into how creation would unfold. I put fractals and irrationals and tangents and parallels and all kinds of kinks into the folds of possibilities. Entire civilizations and galaxies would be allowed to be demolished if necessary by My creatures and just as many worlds could be created and saved and allowed to flourish by other creatures. In short, I allowed agendas to be free where I would not actively intervene unless things got out of balance so far that my Celestials came to Me to ask for assistance in setting things stable again. On a universal scale I do it every day. On a localized scale it happens very seldom. Does that answer your question?"

           I was not sure. I had to let the words trickle down deep inside me like I was in the middle of a cave and the water was dripping off the ceiling where the stalactites met the stalagmites and I was waiting for a drink. I thought and thought and paused a long time before I answered.

           "You mean you actually do love me and I was just imagining that you hated me and wanted to see me suffer in pain?"

           "Of course I love you! I cannot but love you. I created you only in love and never for one moment out of love. I was so delighted when you first appeared that My entire experience of seeing you was totally one of bliss. I have always loved you and I have never had My eyes off of you, no matter how many lifetimes you insist you need to leap into to learn this or that thing. And, another thing: you absolutely insisted that you wanted to have this most recent past lifetime. I wiped your memory clean when you were born so nothing would interfere with your free will, but sure enough I have the records here for you to see if you like of our last conversation we had just before you leapt into the lower spheres."

           "So, what was it again that I was supposed to learn and did I learn it?"

           "Yes, you did learn it mostly down there but the remainder is all coming into place right now. You wanted to learn that My creation had more than just loving light. You wanted to learn what hate felt like. You wanted to understand why some of My creation so much values hate and desire and attachment. You wanted to prove to yourself, not to Me really, but much more to yourself, that you could understand the darker currents out there. You wanted to understand for yourself because all My other explanations were never good enough for you. You kept on insisting that you had to see it and taste it up close before you'd really have a full grasp of it. I said fine. Let it be for you as you ask."

           "I have heard it said that some take this road and sink very far down and really identify with hating You and that in some ways they are lost to You. I don't understand how that happens or why You allow it?"

           "Yes, it's true. Some very brave souls want to go much further down into the mud than you did and they do so for such good reasons or with such good intentions I should say. They don't notice how heavy it is in life, how heavy the senses are and how seductive the darkness is. I send them torrents of warnings, so many messages and hints, some subtle, some clubbing on the head. Some do not want to listen and for a time they sink all the way to the bottom. Some die altogether. They come back to me and demand that they die and return to nothingness. I allow them to do so if they really present heart, spirit and mind in unison asking for death. What else can I do? Refuse them? I couldn't. They would have imploded on a light level if you can imagine that. If I had refused to allow them to go back into nothingness then they would have spent eternity wandering the whole universe. I have more compassion than that and after a very long time spent with them, holding them very close to Me, giving them love and as much light as they could drink in, if they still insisted on pushing away from Me, I allowed them to die. But, you are asking Me this more because you are concerned if you have displeased Me in your hatred. No, not at all. I knew where you were going and why you were going and what you would learn. And, most of all, I knew that you would desire to share your insights with others. That's why I gave you so much room to feel so much anger, rage, hatred and resentment towards Me. You wanted to experience it and I agreed."

           I was again dumbfounded. I opened my mouth to speak but He stopped me.

           "Take a break now and go for a rest. Come back another time when you wish to wrap this up and we will conclude another time. You're in terrible need of rest and time to absorb what I've just told you, right?"

           "Yes, I suppose You're right" I said, and then I lashed out: "But I really felt that you had no right to ignore me and to stand by and turn a deaf ear to me." I was quite surprised at this outburst.

           A twinkle in His eyes greeted His words. "You told me to not answer the prayers. You instructed Me to stay back and to let it all land deeply within you. You lectured me up and down before you were born as to what you would tolerate and you insisted that I keep quiet. I cooperated. In that life you were very upset, very broken in spirit and heart. You tasted bitterness in a great fullness. You wanted to have it that way. You did not need to have that but there you go. You believed you did. I could have worked with you on the mind level, up here, to give you the proper understanding of the dark side of life. But, it was all your choice and I respected it. Quite frankly I think you did quite well. Go now and we'll continue another time."

           I reached out and grabbed His hand. Tears again flowed from my eyes as I sensed that only a small, a very small portion of His love had filled this room, this metaphoric room. His love, His infinite patience had held me like the most delicate flower in His hands and He had explained with such love what I had most hated to hear. I had to get up and move away, as I felt all those images of anger and heartlessness that I had picked up in that last lifetime move upwards like they all wanted to escape out of me. Except I did not know where they were to exit from me. They all were cramping my awareness and I suddenly felt faint.

           When I awoke I was back in my room by the sea, with the shifting sound of the waves, the lovely sound of birds and the air alive with freshness all around me. That first interview went well I thought. I didn't reach up and try to rip His head off after all. The rest of the day I sat by the water, asking myself so many times, why I had chosen the way I did?

           A voice from very far away, barely reaching my ears said, "because you took your will and used it for a good purpose. I am pleased with the results. You did well."



About the Author (click here) © 2003 Fred Houpt, all rights reserved
 appears here by permission



Author Notes

           For God's sake.

WriteGallery Site Index
Latest Literature (Click here) Virtual Chapbooks (Click Here) Fiction (Click here) Poetry (Click here) Essays/Articles on Writing (Click here)
Personal Essays (Click here) Genre Fiction (Click here) Author Information (Click here) From K.L.'s Desk (Click here) About WG (Click here)
ubmissions Guidelines (Click here) Copyrights & Credits (Click here) Guestbook (Click here) KL's Blog (Click here) Literary Links (Click here)
Toolbox Links (Click here) Virtual Reference Links (Click here) Hot Links to Cool Distractions (Click here) Link Exchange (Click here) email WG: info@thewritegallery.com (Click here)
www.theWriteGallery.com (Click here)
TEXT INDEX
|  Latest Literature  |  Virtual Chapbooks  |  Fiction  |  Poetry  |  Essays/Articles on Writing  |
|  Personal Essays  |  Genre Fiction  |  Author Information  |  From K.L.'s Desk  |  About WG  |
|  Submissions Guidelines  |  Copyrights & Credits  |  Guestbook  |  K.L.'s Blog  |  Literary Links  |
|  Toolbox Links  |  Virtual Reference Links  |  Hot Links to Cool Distractions  |  Link Exchange  |  info@thewritegallery.com  |
|  Home  |