Two-thirds of the way through life. At present, all is good. No real worries. No big complaints. Pretty content with yourself.
But when you’re alone, really alone and in touch with just yourself, the thought comes as to – why the elation stops? You have a sense of ‘freedom’. You know you can go anywhere, visit anyone, do anything . . .
but there is a feeling that a piece is missing. Maybe a stepping stone, a ladder or maybe an elevator, or just an idea. You’re good – to a point – but then there is nothing but a dead-end.
And there is no angst about it. No suffering or even resentment. Just a wonderment about why the journey has to end, and the discovery of this missing piece.
Guess what? There is no ‘missing piece’. There is no emptiness, no void, no fissure to be negotiated and jumped over. There is no missing piece.
There is one too many pieces! This unknown piece is of your construction and it resides within. Possibly for your protection and security. It is a mental fortress which limits entry to all situations and ideas unless they are approved, by you.
And it does its job well, extremely well. That dead-end appears impenetrable, and it truly is, unless you allow entry.
How does a person allow entry? How does a fortress just disappear?That ‘how’ is not something a person attains or finds. It is similar to a subtle, unexpected tap on the shoulder. One where no words are spoken, but some haunting sensation appears which gives the possibility that something has just opened up down by the dead-end.
A final tether has been cut. A last retraining rope severed. That restrictive idea – the extra piece – has been forgotten – extinguished.
The masterpiece that has just taken place down by the dead-end . . . is where life begins.