The Instrument of Truth

I love my imagination. This year it’s brought me stories of myself, mystifying and clarifying. An instrument of truth that finds tales I might not think to read, or that lets me craft them in ways that are healing and celebratory and intriguing and insightful. It happened again last night as I was drifting off to sleep in a gentle sea of thoughts.

My creativity has been a bit abuzz again since the opening of the Turning Point art exhibition at the Peacock Gallery in Sydney that I have a piece in. It’s a really great exhibition! As I wandered through the two gallery spaces it occupied, having a second, long and longing look at the pieces (I often want to touch the art work!) I found myself tapping pieces of poetry into my phone. It hasn’t come that readily since I wandered Sydney earlier in the year enjoying a heap of photo exhibitions as part of the Head On Photo Festival.

So my mind has swirls of creativity swimming through the sea within. And this is perhaps what invited my imagination to make some connections last night. And I’m going to share the tale because 12 months ago today I came across my other great creative inspiration.

I remember laughing out loud. Even though the topic was grim, the Lindt Cafe siege, I thought “who is this man that has something to say, it’s interesting, he’s sharing his emotions and he’s very articulate?!” So I clicked on his facebook page and discovered a man on a mission, an epic adventure, the premise of which really caught my attention. It was then, initially, a professional interest in methodology, and then a growing appreciation of personal contribution.

I started to follow along on the journey and to provide assistance where and how I could. A fondness for the man I would come to call Charlie and Prince Serendipity, good friend and Muse (amongst other things) grew.

But now, back to the instrument of truth and my going to sleep last night…right after I go for a run in the ocean pool, a place that itself has been the scene of amazing imaginings.

So last night as I was drifting off to sleep an image came into my mind that is not unusual. When I started meditating in Newcastle sometime after 2010 I used to come to this image from within, focusing on the spot between my eyebrows. It’s an open door and I’m on the threshold. The door is being held open by a man and I can see past him to green hills and a pathway. It’s an invitation I am guessing. In my imagination last night I laughed as I finally recognised the man and stepped through.

It seemed so appropriate. It made me think of the opening of a significant door at the start of this year, which happened because I met this man. I stepped into creativity, something I’d wanted to do for so long. And what a wonderful journey ensued. A doorway that led to many truths.

And then an interesting thing happened. I felt like a hundred doors within shifted to my skin. I heard them unlock. And some of them opened, with the sound old doors and squeaky hinges or sighing winds can make. I think that’s an invitation too. At least I’m going to see it that way.

There are some things my imagination doesn’t meddle in. When I did fall asleep I had a dream with my father in it. Of course he doesn’t age. I was making him a cup of tea and it occurs to me now that he gesticulated in directing me to find the tea bags, but he didn’t speak. Is that because I have forgotten the sound of his voice? The sound of his laughter. Memories are gifts and sometimes they are manifested in interesting ways that keep them about. I delight in the similarities between my Dad and my brothers. That keeps him alive and makes me so proud of them. Things live on in the way that they live on, through the connections, via the open doors and inviting windows. It’s rather lovely.

I was thinking about it in the ocean pool tonight. On the back of this profound influence, a year of exploration and putting myself out there, and with the freedom that comes from going through the doors and opening the windows, I’ve made a really great choice to move forward and explore life some more.

And I think, with gratitude, I’m going to seek 100 doors this coming year.





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