It feels
like the light is beginning to change. I'm
always aware of the subtle shifts but I'm making more of an effort to notice. To pay closer attention. Few of us are
ever as present as we would like to be. But
in the secret romance of ourselves we're often acutely aware of the fullness;
the potentiality and strangeness of each moment. In art we rise to the changing light. Life in reflection. Subtly reordered, remixed and re-written to
serve some intangible horizon. The
shifting needle of our inner compass, towards an often-unspoken goal. I suppose that's because true depth and atmosphere lives not just in the light, but in how we interpret and shape that light. After all, without the interplay of shadow and light the eye sees
nothing. Without contrast we are
blind. There is a singular practicality
to the numinous, when we understand what we’re working with. It takes courage to see, and kindness to grasp
another’s way of seeing – especially when it differs from our own. But I believe we are souls built for adventure. Placed here as part of a beautifully intricate
design. Sometimes I wonder, like now,
about the hidden glyphs inscribed along the edge of dusk. Secret writings concealed in the strange
corona of a midnight sun. At first
there's a kind of gravitas to the grey skies. Just before blue begins to haunt the canvas. And I adore it, the calm of that
pre-twilight. The cusp before the cusp. As a child I wanted to somehow capture that
end of daylight, or else live in the dusk forever. I'm still like that, I suppose. Obsessed with the twilit realm. The in-between. It's the only place that ever truly felt like
home. Mediums and psychics often talk
about the afterlife as place of eternal sun. A shining realm of vivid beauty, divine grace
and collective thought. I've seen that
world. It isn't vague or insubstantial. It is breathtaking, and realer than real. I've seen the shadowlands too. The dim and dark places created from the
collective minds of the distorted, and the damned. Lost souls. The corrupted, sadistic ones. Oh, I've seen that place. I've felt it. Avernus is very real. But there are no children there. No children in hell. Not even one. That knowledge brings me comfort beyond
measure. The sheer grace and wisdom of
the light. The living intelligence that
men call God. He loves us and walks with
us every single day. Friends, I want you
to know that it’s only here in this in-between place that children suffer. Not because of cosmic indifference, but because
of the wickedness of men and the wraiths who rule them. The entities that whisper and possess. You see, this earthly realm is far darker than
the darkest regions of the afterlife. But not brighter. What I mean when I say this
is that here everything is possible. Not
so on the other side. Beyond the veil, all
things are held in perfect safety. Clarity,
balance. Resolve. Grace is given but character is earned, and the
other side is forged by the very truth of this character. Our emotions, thoughts and intent. I mean to say, you cannot hide who or what
you are in the realms beyond death. In neither
the summer-lands nor the shadow-places. You
cannot cloak yourself from others. Except
here. Here you can move about unseen. Unnoticed and unsuspected. This is why the wisest men of all cultures know
that the Devil is very real. Regardless
of his myriad forms and names, he is always equated with deceit. And desecration. This earthly realm is a blending of both
worlds, of course. The darkness and the
light. Despite all this, I don't see
many mediums or psychics discussing this threshold place. This liminal state we call mortal life. This world of ever-dusk and ever-dawn. Is this mortal realm the true purgatory? More a priceless and sometimes terrifying gift,
I would suggest. This gift from our maker
requires maturity and the highest spiritual regard. It is the gift of free will, of course. Choice and self-determination. Some men abuse it in the most typical
of ways. There are also those who use such will to knowingly mock
and desecrate the very notion of God. These
are the true dark ones. The Damned. Apostles of the Abyss. For they have no use nor desire for
forgiveness, or redemption. These individuals
are rare, but they do exist. You know
they do. Their hearts are obsidian and
their appetites unspeakable. But I'm not
here to discuss the banality and ugliness of genuine evil. There are greater things occurring right
now. New light is always possible, even in the darkest of times. Please,
dear ones, do not be discouraged by the chaos all around. There is joy here too. A great and wonderous joy. It moves as we move, dances as we dance. It is the reflection and sustenance of us all.
Family, friendship, mutual
affection. Countless works of divinely inspired art. Music of the spheres, channelling the very
nuances of heaven. You see, this
physical world is a stage, a place of absolute freedom where any tale can be told
and enacted. A world where actions have great consequence. This
is the realm our maker made for us. A complex
work of incomparable majesty. And though
satanic forces have tried to turn this majesty into a place of ruin and filth,
our Father in Heaven is still the Creator. Love shall always win the day. Why? Because
love is truth. The highest intelligence.
Darkness, however, must be born from greed and sadism. It is twisted, broken.
Summoned into existence through acts of
desecration. Evil is the corruption of
truth, of love. It’s an inversion. A sickness, and nothing more. Remember this, my friends. Recognise how feeble is a fallen angel when
measured against limitless power and grace. I've seen that bright world beyond the veil. I've felt it.
I wept at its beauty. You needn’t
believe a word of this, of course. That
choice is yours. But our divine Father adores
us. He loves us beyond all measure. And he wants each one of us to know the very
best of ourselves, and of Him. Religion
and spirituality. Kinship and community. Poetry, music and song. Laughter and love. These are the things that change the light,
that brighten and deepen our understanding.
These are the things that make sacred this bewildering realm of contrasts
and opposites. So, let us continue to become
as we were intended – beings of true perception and sweetest regard. Souls built for adventure, especially when held
in concert with other kind and courageous hearts.
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