Years ago some friends and I explored the Peak District, a national park with lots of hills in the North of England.
The peaks looked so immense, I felt small and insignificant. As we explored the park, I fantasised about what it would be like to stand on top of one of those peaks. My wish soon came true - my friends suggested we climb up "Lover's Leap." Legend has it that the cliff was named after a failed suicide attempt. After a woman was jilted, she tried to commit suicide by jumping off that particular cliff but her skirt acted like a parachute and broke her fall. While it was quite exhausting climbing up the cliff, as I hadn't done anything like that before, it was a lot of fun and well worth the effort. I felt like I was on top of England.
After we'd enjoyed the scenery from the top it was time to descend. How do we get back down, I wondered? Is there a lift that takes you down? My friends broke the bad news that the legs that took me up were the same legs that were going to take me down. I was terrified. I had visions of myself rolling down the cliff. The whistling wind didn't help matters either; it's as if it was egging me on. My friends suggested we climb down the other side and explore that part of the terrain. Step by tentative step, we descended; all the while I was cussing myself for going up in the first place. I made a vow that I would never repeat that experience. It turned out to be quite a laugh coming down. I also enjoyed exploring other parts of the park.
After I had conquered Lover's Leap, I dreamed of bigger cliffs, hills and mountains to conquer. I could start off with Ben Nevis in Scotland, then work my way up to Mt Kilimanjaro in Africa, which will prepare me for the ultimate conquest - Everest. I haven't got round to doing any of them as yet.
What has all this got to do with destination nowhere? My experience of Lover's Leap represents how I used to see the spiritual path - it was about getting to the top of the mountain. While we're all climbing different faces of the mountain, we're all heading for the same place, the peak. When you reach the top of the mountain, you have arrived and can then be your real self. Now I know there is no such place. All I know is God/Love/Life is all there is. Right where I am is God. Whether you're on top of Mt Everest, Kilimanjaro or on the River Nile, there is only God. There is, therefore, nowhere to go but to experience life here and now. I also believe God is the self of all. Therefore, every experience is really about exploring myself. Whether I am climbing a cliff or mountain, writing an article, or spending time with someone, I am exploring who I am in my own unique way.
Most of the spiritual material out there are destination orientated. There are many techniques to help you get to the mountain top. Little is written by those who know there is nowhere to go but to live life now. Babies can tell us what life is like being here now, but they can't read or write. It's a shame there are no books written by animals, at least I've never come across one. I know there are writers who have channelled animals; I have channelled quite a few articles myself. I would imagine if animals wrote books they will have titles like:
They Sniff Him Here They Sniff Him Everywhere
Cat Among the Pigeons - An Adventure
The Neigh Sayers - Straight from the Horse's Mouth
Grin and Bear it - A Crocodile's Tale
Not Just a Laughing Matter - A Hyena's View
Bouncing My Way to Happiness: A Kangaroo Autobiography
For now, we're just going to have to make do with people channelling animal stories. Speaking of which, two days ago on my way home I saw this man walking his dog. He stopped and told her off for her exuberance. I felt sorry for the dog and said she was cute. The dog wanted to play with me but her friend pulled her away. As we walked he told me she was a year old Labrador with way too much energy for his liking. He said he's even been thinking of letting her go but his son would be very upset. As we walked, at the dog's pace of course, he told me about the spat he had with his neighbour. One day his neighbour was confronted by the Labrador and started running. He told her to stay still but the woman didn't listen and ended up falling and spraining her ankle. The woman accused the dog of attacking her and reported the incident to the police. When the police officers arrived, the dog licked one on her face. Based on the new evidence, the police officers decided the dog was too friendly to have attacked the woman and the case was dismissed. There you have it, I've just channelled the Labrador's story called "It's a Dog's Life."
There is no destination, nowhere to go to; there is only now. Though I live in London, it's actually God appearing as London. It could take me thousands of years to explore every nook and cranny of God being London, let alone the entire earth. I'm going to have a damn good try anyway.
I am being myself here and now.
Related articles: Channelling; Awakening; Of Spirit and Claiming Your Spirit Passport; Nothing But a Hound Dog