There are people who step out of the world of tangible existence to experience the Reality beyond duality, beyond linear time, and beyond the illusion of solid form. They sit staring at ocean waves, or watching a stream flow, or gazing at the field of stars on a dark night. Their body does not move, but their mind and spirit travel through the veil created by the barriers of the human mind. They flow free like a breeze and find companionship in the spirits and teachers, animals and nature beings that fill the liminal territory where the unity of creation is revealed in all relationships.
Maya was one of these people. She had done her share of physical travel in her younger years. She had touched and tasted, smelled and seen wonders of the natural world and the beauty of human beings. She had seen the stark juxtaposing of poverty and wealth, war and peace, solitude and crowding. In the midst of it she discovered those moments which all living things share regardless of the categories created by human ideas.
Her exposures had been brief, just the quickest impressions added to her soul. She had looked into the coal black eyes of an Afghan girl of 12, as a school group sang freedom songs of their fathers and brothers at war. In the girl’s dark hair, rounded cheeks, and intense eyes, Maya saw her own older sister and knew that across the world there was a kinship beyond family linage.
Maya had fallen in love with the night sky in a ten minute walk under the Kenyan stars. The vivid colors which the flowers, countryside and people of that land expressed during the day had crystallized into the million stars now overhead. These were not timid stars whose twinkle makes your vision reach to grasp them. They were bold solid lights destined to guide you through the night. Over the intervening years, star-filled nights always reminded her of the people all over the world who were receiving this same powerful gift from the heavens.
Maya carried within her a love of the curry and saffron, paprika and turmeric, cumin and cardamon that had enveloped her in a spice-grinding shop in Delhi. The sudden explosion of their powerful scents, mixed with tangy cooking odors, pungent body odors and the other less savory smells of animals and people brought a moment of understanding. Vivid colors and powerful spices are most astounding amid the dusty earth and hot air.
The truth and honesty of these moments, and many others like them, continued to resonate through her being. Without knowing it, they were the compass that constantly directed her to the deepest commonalities among people, and toward the core reality of shared being. They were the silent guides who eventually led her into the Unseen world, and introduced her to the Being of Humanity.
On this special morning, Maya woke up feeling a powerful desire to visit The Mountain. The message “Follow The People,” was as clear at the stars in the sky. She knew that, “The People” referred to all of the indigenous folk of the world, representing the full expression of human kind. She often felt their presence walking along the trails high on The Mountain.
Driving up the winding road to the trailhead, Maya sang her favorite tunes. They didn’t have words, just tones and syllables that helped her open to nature all around her. As she sang, the tune shifted, folding in a different low pitch and then moving to a different rhythm. She was being taught a new song for a new experience.
Bear Rock Trail was one of her favorite hikes across the face of The Mountain. It was a rough and tumble countryside, strewn with boulders tossed around by millennia-old volcanic eruptions. These strong stone sentries provided shade for delicate purple flowers which brought springtime color to this early fall day. Nearing the timberline, the scrub pines twisted by wind and winter weather, showed new growth in the yellow green needles at their tips. The shrubs laying near the ground, spreading rather than reaching for the sky, added shades of olive and forest green to the scenery.
She loved walking secluded, dusty paths. Throughout time, members of her human family have walked under sunlit skies, upon solid ground, drinking from the same supply of water and breathing the same air that she was breathing now. She sensed the presence of The People with her on the trail.
About two miles in, she spotted an outcropping of boulders up to the left. The sun had grown warm and the hollow beyond the rocks provided delicious shade as well as privacy. Here, she called to mind the beat of her drum and the memory of that rhythm opened the passage into Mystery.
When Maya looked up again, she saw the huge figure of a very young child, cradled in the lap of the Earth. The curve of its head rested in the fold of The Mountain and its valley. The rest of the body was outlined by the other sacred mountains of the world.
“This is the Being of Humanity,” a woman’s voice informed her. “This little one sleeps, held in the arms of Gaia.” Tenderly the breeze flowed over the childlike form and around Maya, caressing both affectionately. She could feel The People around her, all seeing themselves in this one Being of Humanity, as it stretched over the face of the Earth.
Maya’s guide explained,
Small children are easily frightened. They emerge from pure energy and light, and it takes them a long time to adjust to tangible form.They are easily confused by the noisy and unsettled nature of the shared consciousness of the human family. The senses of their new body focus on substance and form, and many little ones become lost in the illusion of separation, imagining all kinds of threats. This infant Being of Humanity is much the same, suffering because it feels alone and cut off from the unity of Life. Your species is still very young in its Earth life, barely more than a toddler taking its first steps among the ancient life forms of this world.
Then, The People became visible to Maya’s eyes as they stood around the outline of the Being of Humanity. Individuals of all ages and from every culture and geography of the Earth gathered to sing at the sleeping child’s head. Deep resonant tones and syllables of crystal purity cascaded like water over and through the sleeping Being of Humanity.
“Their song washes through the cerebral fluid and the mental pathways to cleanse Humanity of thoughts and images which have become toxic. These distorted thought patterns are hindering this young being’s growth,” Maya’s guide explained.
A similar gather of people stood near the child’s heart, played drums, rattles and other percussion instruments of every shape and form. They beat out the rhythms of dance and wave, heartbeat and thunderstorm, earthquake and tumbling rock. Every tempo of nature was included in the forceful waves of sound vibrating through Humanity’s chest bones.
Maya could not pick out specific styles of drumming or even distinguish the sound of a drum from that of a click stick. Yet, this was not a jumble of loud noise, but a complex interlacing of one beat over and around the others. It rumbled and pounded, skipped and leapt.
In answer to Maya’s unspoken question, she heard,
This is Gaia’s heartbeat. It is the pulse of the Earth, pumping life through every bit of matter and every solid expression of the tangible world. The People know the original rhythms and drum to remind Humanity of the beat of Gaia’s heart. As a mother’s heartbeat can heal a lost and dying infant, this pulse is the intimate connection of the Being of Humanity to all the life of this planet.
Maya’s attention was drawn next to the level of the child’s naval. Here, The People played many high pitched instruments. Tiny bells and triangles, trilling flutes and wind chimes all flying and lifting in a celebration of sound. In them Maya heard the brushing together of autumn leaves and the early morning songs of birds. A smile filled her heart at the sound.
You hear the joy in these notes and feel it bubbling up within you. It does the same with this Being of Humanity. It shakes loose fear, anxiety and dread. These tones open the pathway for the energy of Life to move effortlessly throughout Humanity’s whole being. The music helps this child feel in every cell the movement of inner being and outer creation as one nourishing flow. Joy is the connective current of the cosmos.
As Maya stood listening she was amazed at how the sounds swirled and blended with one another, mixing together and separating in beautiful harmony.
“It is time for you to add your tune,” her guide urged. “Every time a new voice or a new instrument is added to this song of blessing, it becomes more beautiful, and more powerful,” Maya was told. “The Being of Humanity will experience the richness you add.”
Maya sang the tune she had learned on the way up the mountain. She was amazed by the vitality and clarity of her own voice. She could almost watch the vibrations of her tones dancing among the other notes sounding all around her.
Every time this tune comes to your mind, remember that throughout time and space there are millions of other beings singing this song of healing and transformation to this Being of Humanity. All of the ancestors and descendants of human kind hold this toddler in love.
Maya closed her eyes and sighed with deep contentment. When she opened them again, she was sitting in the shade of the boulders above Bear Rock Trail. She sat there, continuing to sing her wordless tune with tears of gratitude running down her face. She was not alone. The People would join her whenever she sang songs of love and joy to ease this precious Being of Humanity as it grows to find its place within the web of life.