Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream,
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream.

The children’s song was attributed to Eliphalet Oram Lyte long, long ago, back in 1881. Do you suppose he actually knew the truth of that which he wrote? How many times did I hear that song, did I sing that little ditty, not realizing the H U G E truth hiding in plain sight?

Today laughter fills my heart and I lovingly dance around the house, every cell in this body smiling. The outward experiences of life have not changed at all, but the inner which creates perception of the outer isn’t on the same planet.

It’s still a tiny bit cloudy but the sun is definitely here. I have yard work to manage before winter truly wraps the dead and dying landscape within its fierceness only to recycle and repurpose in the spring. The health of this body feels more stable at the moment although a little niggle of thought crosses now and again saying just wait … it will change … it always does.

Is that a prophecy of doom or simply a basic statement that life is change? I tend to see it through the lens of the ever-changing now rather than letting it catch hold and send a cold shiver spineward. I watch the thought as it passes, wondering what it is within the human design that churns out negativity and spurs on such destructive thoughts. Is it simply the repetition of past experience or something more?

I catch the thoughts lying in the ruts of old patterns every now and then. Some speak to life’s pitfalls, its utter impermanence, the absolute inability to snuggle into the peace of certainty. Others wail about the untrustworthiness of humans as a species, this life so full of disappointment. And some, actually all, don the role of magnet, pulling the separate self back from the void just as it is dissolving into nothingness.

There is a trick. It seems backwards but all of love’s remedies are unfathomable to a mind. Love the dark and dastardly thoughts. They are much friendlier when drawn into the open rather than left to sneak around in the dark corners of the subconscious, let alone drifting in the untouchable zones of the unconscious where they craft reality in the murky unawares.  

The one thing a lie cannot stand is the light of awareness, and make no mistake, thoughts are all lies … every … last … one. See them for what they are, invite them to tea, resist them not and they dissolve for they are nothing but appearance and sensation floating in awareness. The thoughts create a spectacular hallucination — a self row, row, rowing a boat through the waves of life. See them clearly and you see their owner – the separate self. See that and the dream is revealed, the revelation to which the mystics point with every poem, each delectable spiritual talk, with the deep silence of the heart: merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.

Thoughts cannot be trusted until their ownership is clear. If the owner is the separate self, beware.

When you awaken in the morning after an intense night of dreaming some scenes remain clear for a while before they fade. By afternoon, unless it was one of those dreams that shook you to your very core, it has been misplaced and forgotten. It had no reality so there was no reason to let it hire on. No longer taken seriously, the dream seen to be a dream, all those plans to shore up your defenses you made within the dream evaporate like water on a hot rock. You smile and laugh, dance and shake your head in wonderment that a dream can catch you up so completely and how one makes your life more fascinating and fun.

After all, what would life be without its dreamscape? And how could we experience anything without the dreamer?  

Life is like that. Whether it’s the dream that comes while your head nestles in your pillow or the dream most of us call reality, life is but a dream. That’s the whole point of life – to see the dream, to find the happiness that comes of remembering, to sing and dance and smile. Why? We are this happiness. We are the source of happiness. It is only natural to seek and find what we are. So we row, row, row the boat. We, the dreamed characters, cannot decide when or how. Often it doesn’t feel gentle when we are in the middle of the trance state, trussed up in the mesmerism and trusting the convincing hypnotics, but it is gentle when we realize the dream within the dream, when life becomes lucidly lived. We wake up and laugh at what a breathtaking ride it was … and howl with delight when we feel for the first time what it’s like to be awake within the dream. In that moment, we fall in love with life!

“See your beliefs as you stop and question it all. When you find those pesky critters and let them be, you go beyond belief and come alive in the question. That’s the point of every appearance. They are the siren’s call, here to set you free, you delightful being of stardust and light.” Card #25 Question Everything – The Wild Child

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