As presented by 20th Century spiritual scientist, Rudolf Steiner, the leading edge of spiritual and social evolution has followed a westward moving progression - India, Persia, Egypt, Greece, Rome, now Europe mostly, and somewhat of America. (And, according to Steiner, will eventually move on to a future, transformed, Russia.)
The term America - as used in this article - is not at all about the nationalist concept that residents of the United States and the modern world hold to at present (may nationalism pass on, and human unity prevail) - but, rather, pertains to the aforementioned leading edge of spiritual and social evolution, as an embodiment unto itself. Thus, in a sense, America exists in places around the globe, wherever the broad range of new social-spiritual healing impulses have become increasingly active.
This article delves into the New America that pertains to the nature-human relationship. It is about an America projected into the future. The material was derived and adapted from one of the five Earth Vision e-books, entitled Gaia Sojourn - spiritual ecology across a series of incarnations” - a volume that explores the nature-human interface in various cultural contexts down through time. America - facing the threshold” is the chapter in which the Sojourn of Gaia culminates in the present time. For the whole picture, both chapter and volume, refer to Gaia Sojourn, available on the Earth Vision site.
Most people transmit a jumble of conflicting wishes, hopes, and fears. The Self sorts them out and induces a set of experiences that complies with the overall transmission.
If a person can decide and discover clearly what he or she wants, and can project that in a straightforward way, will he or she not enter upon a path of rare power? Related to this, in terms of our relationship with nature, what untold resources wait to be acknowledged, and what new enterprise awaits the guiding hand of those who can deliver this new impulse to the table of holism?
One too often hears the statement these days that it’s hard to believe in the existence of the soul, or the spiritual aspect of life. But such a sentiment can only be very transitory as we continue into the third millennium. Such a statement, during this time of spiritual acceleration, can have only a very short future.
If we turn the sentiment on its ear, we arrive at the notion that it’s hard to believe in the existence of matter, a consideration that bears more credibility, especially when we examine how scientists have probed deeply into matter only to discover a Void-like emptiness pregnant with an energetic force. Given leading edge research, how can matter prove to be other than an illusionary sleight of mind?
But then, on the other hand, it is also possible that matter is a masterpiece of godly intent.
Or, perhaps, it may well prove to be both, and, speaking of godly intent, we may also find that we have more to do with this matter than we know.
In the spring wind of a new year, a sergeant of the marsh, the red-winged blackbird, stations itself on a cattail perch. And the songbird of our elation sails over a forest of intent, locked in the talon of hawk-disillusion. A sandpiper drills holes into the sand-shore of memory, its beak an injection, a portal to images of distant vistas where the soul has traversed. And a pine siskin alights its tiny frame atop a grand coniferous reverie and exclaims its chee-ee-rr, over and over in the morning light, as it mines an insectine breakfast between the petals of spruce cone resolve. Across the segue of nature a floral palette blooms as, one stitch at a time, the quilt of Primavera fashions its eruptive season. Meanwhile, in an invisible cloak tailored by ingenuity, coyote, the rebel drifter, picks his way through the tall grass, paws of stealth treading a silent rhythm, an ancient pattering quest in counterpoint to modernity.
We live in a world that represents reality.
Thought, as we experience it, is the shadow of spirit. We cannot know spirit through thought, just as we cannot know a thing by its shadow.
“What’ll ya have?”
(A wild black Arabian horse with lightning in its eyes and great wings to carry me through the stars to a doorway of mystery.)
“A black coffee, please.”
“Come to watch the hockey game?”
(Oh, the helmeted gladiators with wooden swords who battle with ice-cutting shoes. See them riding rhino and lion, and falcon power. Watch the speed of attack, listen to the impact of plastic armor!)
“So, what’s new?”
(Love, money, transformation, energy forming itself into new expression, joy of new skies, moon rays from the heart of interspecies companionship, sunrise in the belly of a great pine forest, yearnings, there’s a woman’s head I’d love to turn my way.)
“Not much, how you been?”
“Pretty good - I just landed a new job, so I’ll be quitting this one soon.”
(Probably some paper-shuffling gig that goes under the name “research.” Knee-deep in red tape, pink tape, scotch tape, irish tape. Procedures, cushions, loopholes, creative intent turned to subdued pap.)
“Yes - something to keep me out of trouble!”
(Keep you out of trouble, jail, debt, and off drugs, booze, and from chasing all the honey-bunnies, and using your eyes to undress nuns, and howling around in that mustang of yours into the wee hours, speeding past cops to piss them off…)
“So, are you still single and unattached?”
(Single - yes, going alone through all kinds of experiences. Walking through a landscape with three suns and seven moons and talking trees and great-winged birds for guides and mountains that convert dreams into flashing gemstones of inspiration and dancing in the rays of undiscovered stars - and no one to share it with. Oh - a Libra or a Taurus who knows yoga makes a better bed partner for a Gemini than a Scorpio high on ginseng…)
“Yeah - I guess I gotta fight a few more battles on my own for a while.”
“Are you working on any new environmental issues?”
(Hell, yes - I’m gonna steal a helicopter and get a few eco-guerillas together to fly around during hunting season and tranquilize-dart some hunters, put radio-transmitter collars on them and track them. When we find out what bar the varmints hang out in, we’ll cruise in there and give them all vasectomies…)
“Yeah, I’m working on a plan. . .”
The spiritual world is descending into materiality, instigating transformation. The time is upon us now to develop spiritual eyes again, although we’ll need a different form of clairvoyance than that once commonly known in the distant past. Long ago, it was dreamlike, a twilit form of seeing. Now, we are compelled to cultivate a clear, wakeful forum, functioning with a pure heart and untroubled mind.
When too many remain ecologically illiterate, the magic of nature becomes depleted. When morning rays, once charged with godlike, charismatic power, are tarnished by smog, or ignored by human consciousness, when the cadence of an evening cricket is muted by an ear attuned to worldly elements, when birdsong and wind in boughs falls on unmusical ears, the only remaining hope lies in awakening our spiritual powers.
The profound attraction to beauty in the initial union between a human being and nature runs its course. Expansion is followed by contraction. The bright, the beautiful, the exalted, persist, but are shadowed by the mire, the dark, the dissonant. Opportunities present themselves. Dedication to meeting the canyon, the ebb tide, the abandoned recess, develops latent power of a deeper love. And expansion again follows contraction, in a continuous cycle of love’s eternal evolution.
A similar course runs between earthly lovers, often crossing over into nature’s kingdom, the edges blurring into an artistic cohesion. But, because of this oscillation-evolution, and its entailment of the multitude facets of nature, the lover can never fully answer why he loves. In early spring, before buds flush their leaves, the nest is exposed. By the time eggs are laid, the nest is well concealed. The brood thrives undetected and, without the penetration of the observer, the maturing of songbirds proceeds.
Within the chambers of memory and anticipation, windows open. In morning light, the murmur of a creek harmonizes with the radiance flickering upon its waters. Spring birds chatter into the grave of winter. Lichens eat away at last century’s stoniness. A heron rises out of a silent marsh, its great wings broadening into a question. A slim, black acorn-seeker squirrels its way across the dry leaves of our oak-tree strength.
The long empty roadway glides over the plains under a wide sky of cloud breathing hawk-song. Holy words pass through the veil - Arapaho, Shoshoni, Cheyenne, Lakota. You cannot sell land. “Land” is the skin of Mother Earth. You cannot sell it or trade it - you can only share it. America, what enormous karma have you to unwind!
Whatever is to be done with the political arena of humanity? The Western world over-prides its feeble rendition of “democracy” - pointing a finger at nations who don’t comply with its vision. How both democracy and socialism, as we have known them to date, simply pale in face of where it must all go next! A far more substantial community of the people awaits than has ever yet visited the face of the Earth.
Nations are set to come apart at the seams - and on many levels. In reality, the eco-zones are the “nations” – or, more concisely, the states or provinces of a one-world nation. Humanity has super-imposed artificial boundary lines overtop the real borders. An illusion that is soon to dissolve.
The invitation now goes out - to cartographers, geographers, ecologists, and deep ecologists - to recreate the world map, stripping away the artifice imposed by political and corporate interests, so that current national boundaries are disassembled, and the legitimate boundaries construed, as delineated by a constitution derived from the empire of nature.
The government - a handful of elite multi-national corporate directors who operate political leaders as puppets - instills a feeling of insignificance in its people. Part of this process entails raving about the need for war machinery and security measures to protect from loss. However, this process ends up generating loss by usurping individual power. The individual relinquishes his/her power to the government, a police state guarding corporate interests, while the dragons of global destruction are unleashed.
Above all, during this time, there is a need to rise to a place of trusting oneself and one’s innate spirituality. In earlier times, our spirituality was intense but we experienced ourselves as part of the cosmos. Now, however, we get to experience Unity, but within the context of an individuality growing ever stronger.
While an empowered individual generates healing forces for social and ecological agendas, the question that arises is - will what is coming into the future go unnoticed by humanity?
There are faculties that must be acquired on Earth and carried across the threshold of death, at the end of incarnation. They cannot be acquired otherwise. The physical realm is a unique and priceless opportunity to evolve. But the veil of perceptual illusion must be penetrated.
We will be unable to perceive key spiritual events while our focus is confined to the physical realm. Given that remarkable spiritual forces now reside in the vault of the Earth, does it not indicate that nature's treasure house can become an avenue by which to move out of the darkness that now threatens humanity from all sides?
As our lives unfold, faculties developed during past incarnational experiences re-awaken in us as layers of the complex multi-dimension of the self. Now, with more and more of the self awakening, are we not preparing to move onward, into a grand culminating experience? What new direction can tally up the past, yet move boldly into an unprecedented frontier?
Waking in the morning, consciousness is mixed, light and dark, striations of dreams persist, inter-weavings proceed, the heart is at once troubled and renewed.
Then, in course of meditation, using godly powers, the mind is directed to imagine, to imagineer the day unfolding according to what is really wanted in life. And those crucial, pivotal moments alter the course of the day, create openings for greater destiny to unfold, to weave unprecedented strands into an evolving fabric.
The day’s experiences are observed, for opportunities, synchronicities, “chance” meetings, details, and events. The action of Spirit, having been invited at dawn, increasingly permeates one’s being, day by day. Life unfolds increasingly in a manner that meets deeper, soul-satisfying ideals.
Through the day, the soul is vigilant for moments, for events of resonation. One may stop to take in the character of a band of crows in flight against the blue sky, or a tree lit by rarefied light conditions. The tree may be in an urban setting surrounded by concrete, but in the moment of opening to its beauty, the soul will transfix, as though the tree were set in a pristine forest. Then, by day’s end, pausing to take in a sunset with its living radiance, its progression of deepening hues until indigo consummation and star-birth - this, again, mints gold into the coffers of the soul.
And the soul’s vigilance entails not only moments of resonation with nature, but also other experiences - an original work of art that inspires, a poem, a cultural expression, moments in relationship with others when we experience genuine communion, or witness a godly quality in the other. All these events imbue inner life with a particular luster.
These moments, captured by the heart, assume a life of their own, and reside in a niche of the soul. Their life force percolates through the morpheus of sleep, flavoring dreams, raising the timbre of somnolence. In the night, the soul is painting with the sunset that was experienced in the day, and finds its way into the grace and boldness of the flight of crows. It surfs on the gold, the radiance of the tree, it becomes “the other” of relationships, in those moments of fullness, of quality, of authentic communion.
Then, by morning, one is brought full circle, to the place of opportunity, once again, to plant seeds of manifestation. And so, the cycle is complete, as the day empowers the night, and the night empowers the day.
Humanity, star-guided wanderer, as you grow weary of the shallows along the shoreline of your questing, you begin to look beyond the veil. And you encounter there what you most long for. Within the interior terrain what you seek for waits, camped on the ridge of your aspiration, or wheeling with the seasons’ intricate workings, or woven into the measureless night.
The universe is having its way with us. Even the sunset - windswept gold and untamable crimson, with the brilliant turbulence of cloud that soars over summits - becomes a full cup, a window beaming warmly on walkers-of-Earth.
Lady Soul, muse of our lost literation, intimate of Athena and Sophia, Gaia, Dawna Annelis, Contessa Natura - long has the gulf between us endured. Now, within your warming gaze, sounding the heart’s drumbeat through the gateway of communion, let us walk the Earth for a time, forgiving all smallness and aloofness.
Building love over love, layers deep, quanta high, let the ocean of nature wed our rending tide, and passion loft in sunscapes transcendent as eagles.
The universe is our ultimate soul mate.
Link to the Earth Vision volume from which this article derives:
Link to the Earth Vision volume from which this article derives: