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Gomorrah, dominus flevit, Mother Earth, Adam, Eve, noise, pollution, grief, and healing

excerpted from IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey, by Jack Haas

  

                                                                                   

                And so back up I went to my little hermitage on the hill that night after reading that account of the exile, and I sat up on a clear bluff overlooking the Georgia Strait, and I indulged in the body and the blood, so to speak, and then waited for the serum to soak in and the ethereal transmission to begin.

                Perhaps an hour later I was on my knees, bawling like I had never bawled before, weeping Adam’s weep, and crying Eve’s tears, because I was living what they had lived, and I knew it now, without a shadow of a doubt. And I looked back from my dominus flevit at Gomorrah and could see the electric lights shining shamefully in the distance, and all I could sense was the misery, separation, pavement, deceit, noise, pollution, confusion, and loneliness, and I howled with agony and wept on and on and saw no hope, no possibility for mankind, only the endless pain, conflict, and damning oblivion which would never allow an end or healing to it all.

                It is as if I had tapped into God’s own repressed anguish. And when that happens it takes you under, it takes you way down, and wrecks you on the bottom. And even if you can rise up from that, and make it back to the surface, a little piece of you will be left in the depths of agony with the others.

                What a night of grief indeed. The grief of the entire world, built upon eons of isolation and sorrow, a grief that oozed out and consumed everything, and would not abate because we were together once, and now we were in fragments and the fragments were against each other and how on earth to make it through.

                How on earth, indeed. For little did I know that the Earth was part of the answer. Little did I expect that at the height of my hopelessness I would be drawn to lift my head, and look across the bluff upon which I was writhing, and to see a giant, bowled, moss covered boulder with a splendid old pine behind it, gnarled and weathered, and bent cascading down over the rock. And with absolute certainty I knew at that moment that the earth was hearing my woe, and beckoning me, and offering to hold me. I knew at that moment that the Earth was the Mother, that She was everywhere, and right now She was in that tree and boulder, and She sought to hold me. And I stood up, walked over, climbed up, and laid down in the hollow, under the tree, in Her arms, and as I lay recovering and dozing off I felt a warm, loving, living form all around me, coddling me and caressing me, and the agony disappeared, and an inexplicable comfort came over me, and I fell asleep in Her arms, and slept the night through like a babe, and when I awoke I knew that I loved Her.

                Soon after that reunion, on another night, in a dream I would be climbing around what appeared to be a soft mound of earth, but when I climbed on top of it I realized it was a huge breast, and a feeling of great peace and comfort came over me, and then in love and adoration I exuberantly exclaimed- “Mother!”, at which point I began to awake, and in the groggy haze between the unconscious and conscious I could feel the subterranean, all encompassing heartbeat of the world Mother, in which all of our lives are loved and pulsing.

 

 

excerpted from:

 

author Jack Haas, west coast British Columbia wilderness, ocean forest island

 

 

IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey

by Jack Haas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

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Mystical books, visionary art, and fine art photography by Jack Haas

 

 

 

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