The Hidden Door

photo: Andrea Clare

When I first went for the hidden door a few people came with me. In telling you what happened you might better understand how to approach it yourself, if you have a mind for the hidden door, that is.

A couple of those that came with me tried to sustain the journey for a while and then they dropped out. They had families and obligations to attend to and they didn’t have the time to devote to the task. Another turned out to be a miser deep within, his heart was too tight to incorporate the right feelings. Another, that I really liked, was a bit lost inside an egocentric view of himself, not overly so, but it was enough to distract him and he petered out. And then there was one that glimpsed the fields-upon-fields and at first it really helped her. But she became convinced she had great powers and a great celestial destiny, the door went hazy, tricking her. She took the other path. The path of ‘hoped for’ power and glory.

At about the same time one more got through, and he also turned left, up the tricky path pretending to be a living god—people will flock but they will be disappointed. But what was weird about him was that the hidden door didn’t spit him out. I used to think you had to be whiter-than-white and very humble to get through; I was wrong. The tricky one taught me that it is possible to get through the door the dark way and the light way. It came as a bit of a shock I must say, but that is how it has always been. I didn’t know that. I’m a bit naive in the fields-upon-fields, a little child really. But quite obviously, trying to get through the door the dark way, while you may be conned into thinking it’s very beautiful, eventually leads to the gates of hell.

After three and a half years beyond the door, I came back because I couldn’t hack it. My mind couldn’t cope; I became tired, the field was too big. But after a bit of a sit down and a cup of tea, I decided to go back one more time. Then in the inner world I saw many people arriving at the door and that made me happy. I knew the time was approaching, hopefully the second wave will be stronger that the first wave.

Initially eight thousand or more heard of the door. Then six hundred came on a bit, and of that number fifty got serious about the journey, but eventually there were only twelve left and nine of those faltered; myself and two others got through. Then again there may be others that got in another way that approached from some other angle. I don’t profess to know how many ways there are to approach; I only know of those that have gone the way I went.

Several got to the doorway only to be blinded by the glory and the hope of being raised up. Another one that got through went left, down the dark side. It is possible to move very fast down that side; I soon lost sight of him.

The ones that go left will eventually become some kind of anti-Christs I suppose, but don’t be scared of the anti-Christs, we need them, lots of them, as many as we can muster. The anti-Christs will probably save the world in the end by sucking millions, maybe billions, the wrong way. Clever but tricky, I’d say.

First decide if you are light or dark. If you are confused and you really don’t know the answer to that, you’ve got one hell of a chance of making it. And if you know you are dark you may also have a good chance if you have the endurance and tenacity. If you absolutely know you are the light then the glare of that will blind you and you’ll need some special help. Not from me I might add, as I wouldn’t know what to do in those circumstances.

Before I figured it out, I tried to get the light people across and I failed miserably. Their light flips to dark, very dark, as they approach the door. I’m way too small and inconsequential to know how to deal with the flipper-chipper.

It’s all backwards—remember that.

If you hear a buzz that’s seems situated at the back of your head that’s very good. And if you have been waiting for the bus for many years as the rest of us, be of good cheer, it will find you. This is the closest the bus has ever been.

Stuart Wilde (www.stuartwilde.com)
©2013 Stuart Wilde. All rights reserved.

 

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