THERE IS a land without a horizon. If you stand upon this land and stare with a keen gaze far into the distance, you will see, not a horizon, but at the farthest, most visible line, a mountain range.
And when you have arrived this Mountain range and climbed these difficult and painful Mountains of transformation you will, at their top, find yourself upon a plain, a plateau, which to your amazement you will realise to be the level surface of another land, another level, upon which you may stay and experience, or further wander. And when you again cast your gaze far into the distance, towards the East, there from where the light comes, you will one day see again, not a horizon, but another Mountain range…
And so we wandered, a band of insatiable restless seekers, from one level to the next, slowly coming to comprehend that life and development is an inner journey of many stages, arranging themselves like a flight of stairs in ascent, or descent, one step, one level, of maturity following upon the other. And as you climb the Mountain which is the end of one reality, so you ascend the Mountain which is the lowest point of another.
There came a day when we paused upon a plateau and, looking back, saw our past descending like a flight of giant steps behind us, curving gently downwards like a winding stairway round and round an invisible pillar of life, around which our gazes also bent. And as we followed the sight of the descending steps of our former levels, so did each of us recognise his and her own distinct footprint left upon each plain, silent, unobserved by those former friends and newly sighted wanderers we could see trudging down there upon those lands, standing around or shuffling left and right. For where we had seen Mountains and sought them, they had seen only a misty future and a horizon of clouds. And where we had felt restless, they had felt at home.
Like indelible lines on forgotten pages of an old book, our tracks marked the landscape of yesterday’s land wherein our friends yet lived, waiting for changes they would have to bring about themselves. Then I understood why the old book keeps on changing from reader to reader, generation to generation and writer to writer – when you change the present, you change not just the future… you change also the past.
Like seeking thoughts groping their way through the lines of a sealed page, looking back I saw our former comrades wandering sightlessly round and round the footprints we left behind.
And then a few of them would notice the footprints, and maybe feel something happen inside their souls, and follow then them footprints with their eyes curiously… until, with a startled surprise, one or two would make out far in the distance, a mountain range where formerly they saw only a misty final horizon. Amazed they ask themselves where these mountains suddenly came from. Each mountain will be a hard climb, my friend, for with each upward step you must also actually climb over an obstacle which you bear within.
A word of hope for them. A word, a strong wish that flies back, like a bird, over to them; but not everyone will see the bird – only those looking up will. For these eastward-gazing people with a question gleaming deep in their eyes we whispered a word of hope…, and then we turned around again, to experience this new land upon which we stood.
Hard had been the ascent through the Mountains that led into this land, and one or two had fallen behind, trapped still in these mountains, unable yet to complete the transformation. But a few of us had indeed found the plateau at the top.
It was a strange land, for gaze as we may into the distance, on this one we saw no new mountains in the distant future… only land and clouds and a seeming horizon. It was a beautiful and mysterious land… and years have passed now since it has held us in its embrace. We have forgotten to look to the East, seeking the New… This new land has become, finally, our home. For many years now.
Some, I tell you, meanwhile have become bored here… and journeyed back down to their haunts of yore, welcomed back by many a comrade on a recycled rung, horizontal heroes of their own yesterdays. But the most have remained here on this new won plane, experiencing and experiencing…
Years of experiencing, experiences that satisfied some… but left a few seeking for something new. These few increasingly bear a thoughtful look upon their faces. Until one day they said to the rest of us, “Do you see these footsteps that disappear in that direction?” They pointed towards the clouds.
“No, we see them not,” we replied, after following their gaze.
“And do you see those Mountains far away in the distance?…
We raised our eyes and saw only clouds at the horizon.
“No, we see only clouds. There is nothing more, nowhere further. We have reached the summit.”
But these Few would not be satisfied, and one day when we woke up, they were gone, restless souls, towards the cloudy mists in the future.
Often have I stood, silent, on my own, and gazed after their footsteps, for one of them, Kulie, had been my good friend. And I have gazed and gazed towards the Light coming through the clouds in the East. And sometimes when I intently gaze, my heart full of longing and a quietly persistent question, the clouds seem to disappear, and I slowly make them out, vaguely, rugged mountains of reflection, far far away. While on other days, when I simply curiously look across, all I see are clouds hovering above a final horizon. Quiet thoughts cross my mind.
I wonder if upon a mountain which I cannot yet see, a spirit pauses at this very moment, and turning around, sees me upon this level which he has left behind, sees the question in my eyes, and whispers for me a word of hope.
More and more, such questions arise within me. For as much as I love this strange and beautiful state of being, this mature level of thought, this comfort zone and stable throne, and my circle of friends who inhabit with me this point of view, yet stirs within me an old restlessness anew, urging me again to think ahead, to look up, for there is a new perception somewhere and no horizon comprehensible to me.
What are those mountains I increasingly seem to see there, in the distance? Inviting and imposing at the same time. Peaceful and rugged. Why should I brave them if indeed they do exist? But, if they do, what land lies again upon them? Maybe somebody stands upon them now and whispers words of hope for me. And maybe these thoughts I think, and think are mine, in truth are his, calling me, talking to me –
“Seeking spirit, be sure of one thing: There is always something more…”
– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.
From my book:
There is always something more.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 
Brilliant words that evoke stunning images and feelings of loss, transformation, hope – the never-ending journey of life and its endings and beginnings and its endings and beginnings…
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Yes, indeed, you’ve captured it poignantly. And thank you for the kind words.
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Blessings to you, your brother and friend – we continue…
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Magnificent Sky aka.
Have made many sky collages and also * the sky was me to the gift * will find you beautiful graphics…much Spass…hab a beautiful Tag.Liebe greetings Andrea
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Absolutely beautiful…simply no more words. Thanks for sharing these apples of gold with us
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Thank you too, Maryanne, for your feedback. I’m glad you like it.
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Amazing, you are so talented. Your words above made me think, which I love. So often today, words are written merely to accomplish a simple task or sale, and often do not encourage one to think at all. I too have been contemplating these questions more and more recently and feeling slightly restless. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, so we know that we are not alone. Happy belated birthday, Aka! (p.s. sharing this on my Pinterest page…)
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Hi Jaime,
thank you for your kind words and for taking time to share your reaction with me. I vey much appreciate it.
Like you, the thoughts that gave birth to this ‘story’ get reawakened in me time and again by the experiences one goes through or sees other people going through sometimes.
Thanks again.
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Courage to be yourself to tred your unique path. Sure road to victory.
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Yes indeed, thank you.
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Beautiful, I have to thank helenvalentina for reposting so that I might come here and enjoy your words. Wishing you a blessed birthday.
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Thank you very much, Red. I’m glad you like it. And indeed, I can’t thank Helenvalentina enough for her kindness and friendship.
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You are right about there being something more. However, If we don’t stop to enjoy our now, we may never be able to enjoy what life has in store for us.
You are a brilliant wordsmith. You always give me so much inspiration and hope through your words.
Happy birthday my dear friend. I wish you many blessings.
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Thank you, Deana. I appreciate your words very much.
And indeed how right you are – if we don’t live fully in the moment, we won’t ever recognise by insight what should logically follow from it.
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Truly beautiful…
Happy birthday and best wishes 🙂
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Thank you very much – your pen-name is truly remarkable… “Written Intuitions!”… beautiful.
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How kind of you to say so, thank you.
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This is your best one yet. You should enter this into a short story competition. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you.
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Please, Mudi, do!
Thanks…
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“Then I understood why the old book keeps on changing from reader to reader, generation to generation and writer to writer – when you change the present, you change not just the future… you change also the past.”
I really, really like this. I like all of it, actually. But I hadn’t really thought about how, as we progress through life, looking back, we, in a sense, actually *do* change it. Hindsight 20/20… An amazing allegory, yes, for the transformations in this thing we call life… Truly beautiful. I am in awe.
Happy Birthday, friend! Blessings to you, and yes. There *is* always something more.
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Thank you, Jess,
I’m really glad you like, understand, appreciate and ‘feel’ this.
We are all on a journey together, somehow, aren’t we? Journey through space – and time 🙂
Things keep changing… and there is always something more…
Yes, indeed.
Thanks for the birthday greetings…
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I can’t remember where I first saw the article you wrote and can’t quote it verbatim, but it said something about if the world did not end on the said date of Dec 21st you will post a poem or story everyday for the next year, that caught my eyes, and I said to myself I doubt that very much. So I
started following your blog, every morning I wake up and reach out for my iPad, not because I’m expecting a very important mail (lol 🙂 ) but to check your new post, curiosity turned to interest, interest turned to admiration,
admiration has turned to influence. Truth be told you have influenced my thoughts and imagination. I won’t bore you with too much. But your post this morning has affected my spirit, I likened it very much to my life and state of mind at present. Like you I’m an April baby, and for the first time as my memories can take me this is my first birthday that I’m not looking forward to till this morning. This piece has made me stop doubting my decisions,
“I wonder if upon a mountain which I cannot yet see, a spirit pauses at this very moment, and turning around, sees me upon this level which he has left behind, sees the question in my eyes, and whispers for me a word of hope.”
Thank you very much, from the depth of my heart. For a poet is like a preacher his words are ever resounding .
Happy Birthday my dear friend.
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Dear Ebun,
this has touched my heart. I thank you very much for your very personal words. In Creation, we all receive and mediate treasures to one another – this is the bond of our humanity. And there is always something new, something more, to be shared, to be seen, to be experienced and to be known. That’s the beauty of the inexhaustibility of life eternal, I think.
So, THANK YOU TOO!
… and when is your birthday, if I may ask…
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You think well… For you have mediated treasures into my heart and being. My birthday is on 18th April.
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A very remarkable date. Maybe one day I’ll tell you why.
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I’ll remind you to tell me, I promise, lol 🙂
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Its’s April 18th and I did promise I will remind you to tell me the remarkable thing about this day,
Pretty please can you tell me? Lol 🙂
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Not today, Ebun. 🙂
HAPPY BIRTHDAY. And thanks for all your support…
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😦 :((
Still sulking, lol. Thanks for the birthday wish, just seeing it now
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Everything in its own good time.
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Ok daddy, lol 🙂
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Reblogged this on helenvalentina and commented:
This is so beautiful…like a narrative piece from an evolved mystic…a beautiful story that means so much more than that…this one goes deep to the soul. I had to pass it on and share it. Enjoy!
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Oh, and happy birthday!! 🙂
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Merci! 🙂
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WOW.. That is an amazing spiritual piece…a wonderful mystical story, a perfect allegory of the mystery of transformation and growth. It reminds me strongly of some of the most beautiful sufi stories, the prose pieces that tell such deep truths in a narrative, the very music of the mystic communing with the Beloved/the One…just WOW….amazing.
With your permission I woud love to reblog this.
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Hi Helen…
you give with your words so much more to me than I with my pieces.
You place things in wider perspective, and also mediate something deep into my soul.
THANK YOU!
Please feel free to reblog…
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Thanks so much, I will! 🙂 And don’t under-estimate yourself…all your work is beautiful but this peice…this shows a very deep, very evolved soul!! 🙂
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Thank you, Helen…
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