The Way Of Stillness
from Dare To Be Still
Martin Exeter October 13, 1985
In these precious moments of beginning do we dare to be still? Do we in fact know the Way of Stillness? Each moment is a beginning. What is it that shall fill that moment of beginning? Something stale brought forward out of the past? or shall it be the Word, spoken out of heaven? When it is that, it is always new, fresh, never spoken before: a still, small voice coming out of heaven into the realm of form. Initially it is a still, small voice, the voice of truth, the first of the four creative forces, symbolized by water. In the earthly sense we have considered these four forces, recognizing that they are inherent in the creative process. They tend to be seen as sequential events: water, air, earth, fire. From the heavenly standpoint they are concurrent events. It is only emerging into the dimensional realm that there seems to be a sequence. If they are in fact concurrent they are all always present.
To describe what the truth is in earthly words can at best only give a hint; the truth cannot really be explained. To be known it must be known. We have called that experience. In earthly words it could be said that the air, the second force, is contained in the water force, and the earth in the air force, and the fire in the earth force. Such a description tends to evoke concepts.
We could see something here with respect to this planet. We are well aware that there have been some rather violent events related to this planet. Many of them were consequent upon disturbance in the solar system; so what can be now observed is not necessarily a true symbol. We think of water as being on the surface of the earth, most of it salty—vast oceans. Certainly what I was indicating with respect to the various forces being within each other doesn’t seem to apply, but we may possibly envision a canopy of water, possibly water vapor—we do have clouds—but in ages past a canopy of water in some form, enclosing the atmosphere of the planet. [greatcosmicstory.blogspot.com/2017/08/seth-enoch-noah-from-story-of-man-grace.html] There is a story about a rather horrific flood at one time, which might occur if such a canopy were in existence and collapsed. It would prove to be wet. One may envision such a canopy, without knowing what it was, surrounding the atmosphere of the earth, and the atmosphere of the earth surrounds the earth, and there is certainly fire at the core of the earth. So we have four concurrent forces in such a symbol, concurrent even in the realm of form.
However, for a creative process to operate, there may be an awareness of pulsation. We have spoken of a rising tide. There are pulsations which work by reason of the four forces; and with the creative process, within which we are present, and our true responsibility is to accommodate this creative process. Human beings have been evidently out of position, so that they have been pushed back and forth by the creative process, no longer providing the facility which would accommodate its motion. Human experience is, generally speaking, that of resisting the pulsations of the creative process. It may not be a deliberate resistance of those processes, or those pulsations, because there is little awareness of them; but it is resistance nevertheless, because human beings want to do what they want to do. They have their own human priorities which are deemed to be greater and more important than the cosmic creative process, so that one might say, at this point, inadvertently the pulsations of the creative process are as far as possible ignored in favor of doing one’s own thing in the human sense. We have all been caught in this peculiar state of affairs.
It is rather a futile thing to resist the pulsations of the creative process, because they are certainly not going to be stopped by human resistance. All that happens is that the resister gets pushed out of the way. Recognizing this, to whatever degree we have, we have done a little repenting. The repentance relates to this matter of resisting the creative pulsations. We begin to see how silly it is to do so, and we certainly suffer the consequences of such resistance; and then, as is the human habit, we complain about it. But we ourselves produced whatever it was that happened; it was nobody else’s fault. We have been moving toward the point where we might honestly acknowledge this. It seems to be quite a long passage. We can acknowledge it with our lips, and sagely nod our heads, but actually to do it requires sackcloth and ashes—a genuine acknowledgment of what we have been doing, so that we do not excuse ourselves or justify ourselves by looking around and finding someone else whom we deem to be resistant to the creative pulsations. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else is doing; it always comes right directly home to oneself. In this sense there isn’t anyone else on earth.
One is completely alone in the matter of repentance. One is coming out of a resistant, separate state, where the endeavor always was to get one’s own way as far as possible, so that one was in conflict with others—coming out of that state to the point of stillness. The point of stillness is also the point of repentance, where there is an absolute and honest acknowledgment that one is responsible oneself alone; one is completely alone in this. It has been said that a person is born all alone and dies all alone. This is an experience of death, and it happens all alone. Other people may possibly be dying all around, but one dies for oneself; and this dying relates to the resistant person, the unrepentant person, who has justified resistance because of the behavior of others, perhaps because of the state of the world.
Finally we come to the point of honesty, where we acknowledge the fact that there is no means of justifying the fact that we have been resistant and unaccommodating insofar as the creative pulsations were concerned. These are of a cosmic nature, and whether human beings resist them or not makes little difference insofar as the pulsations are concerned, but it makes a lot of difference to those who resist. It kills us anyway, resistance. We might as well die right away, simply by letting that resistant person pass away and finding ourselves in the Way of Stillness, where we have nobody to blame, no justifications anymore at our fingertips, but just still in mind and in heart, open to receive what is present constantly of the pulsations of the creative process.
Man was created to accommodate these pulsations, so that they might be translated into what we have called spiritual expression in the dimensional realm, in the earth. That accommodation receives into natural expression these pulsations differentiated into the four forces, as we have called them. The fact that we have called them that hasn’t acquainted anyone with what they really are. One has to be capable of accommodating the creative process to know, and we have the essential equipment for that accommodation. It is a bit rusty, true enough; it hasn’t been used for twenty thousand years; so there is something required to get it into gear again. The first thing that is required is to let what has been resisting it pass away. What has been resisting it is “what I want to do.” Individually we all have our wants, our desires; we like this and we like that and we don’t like the other thing. This is the basis for human government, isn’t it, individually and collectively.
Be still. Stop the nonsense. Come to point. The definition of a point is it has no magnitude: position, whatever that means, but no magnitude. Nothing. What a fearful thing to be nothing; and all that is, being nothing, is the space present in mind and heart. That no longer maintains the human identity, the human ego, which wants so much—it wants to achieve, it wants great things for itself; it wants to blow itself up, like one of these fat frogs. In any case, it only takes a little pinprick to deflate it; and every time, somewhere along the way, the deflation occurs, and there is nothing left but a flabby little piece of rubberized frog. What great achievement! That is all that human beings can achieve. They fool themselves, for a while of course, while the frog is still inflated, but eventually it is gone; it might as well never have been. So there is the Way of Stillness, which allows the mind and the heart to be emptied of the rubbish, to be available to receive what it is that is emerging in the creative process—in fact to receive the creative process, the pulsations of it.
There is a story contained in the Bible concerning Elijah, the prophet, who accommodated the pulsations of the creative process very well at one point. The story tells of the fire falling from heaven, the emergence of the fire force, because what was deemed to be a sequence in earthly terms had occurred. And the next pulsation would be on hand to move forward: water. There was a great rain, considerable evidence of water. This broke a long-standing drought, and Elijah was still accommodating the pulsations of the creative process. It made him quite a runner; he ran before the king to town, very much aware of the power of the creative process. One is aware of it if one is accommodating it. If one isn’t, one may become a little aware of it in other ways, more painful and dis- pleasing ways. But you may recall that the queen, Jezebel, made some threats against the life of Elijah. And at that point—maybe Elijah was tired after his run—he became afraid, fearful for his own life. Jezebel represents very well the usual human nature behavior. This wishes to destroy any evidence of the creative process, which would eliminate all human nature behavior; and human nature seems to have all the cards to enforce the destructive action. So Elijah became subject to fear, and in that very moment ceased to accommodate the creative process.
This is a very apt illustration of the way Emissaries sometimes behave. Something begins to roll because the creative process is being accommodated in some measure, but then, for whatever reason, there is a fearful reaction and it is all dissipated. On this occasion it was dissipated for Elijah, whom we recognize now as providing us with a mirror image of our own experience. Once these pulsations are no longer being accommodated, the whole creative cycle is aborted within the experience of the one who is no longer accommodating the process. Of course this has an effect on other people as well. Nothing can happen until whatever those pulsations were, in that particular aspect of the creative cycle, have expended themselves; only then can there be a new beginning. You cannot fail somewhere along the way and then say, “Oh I’m so sorry; now I will start again.” It doesn’t work. There has been a lot of that: a failure to realize that there are in fact creative pulsations. You cannot ignore them.
So in this instance Elijah was apparently in a cave—that is where one puts oneself when one aborts the creative cycle: you find yourself in a cave in the dark. Then it is usually complained about; and one looks around to find someone to blame for it. In the dark I suppose you can’t see too well in the mirror! Elijah did a certain amount of complaining, rehearsing all the wonderful things that he had done while he was accommodating the creative cycle. Well that was fine back there, but he wasn’t accommodating it now—that was the point. He kept telling the Lord, as it is put here, over and over again, how much he had done in the past. Well I don’t suppose the Lord was ignorant on that score; He didn’t need to be told. But what are you doing now? That is the question, always. We have occasionally had those who thought of themselves as having been very valuable to the Lord in times past, and they keep bringing this forward as a justification for failing to be of value now. It doesn’t do any good. The present moment is the only one we have. You had better be valuable there; otherwise you are not valuable, no matter what happened in the past.
Finally, as very often happens in our own experience, the Lord gets our attention, one way or another. “And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord”—get to where you belong, rise up out of this cave state. “And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains.” There had been the rain but the cycle had been aborted; here was the wind, the air. “… and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord”—some violence involved here, maybe a hurricane—“but the Lord was not in the wind.” No, because the pulsations were not being accommodated, in this instance by Elijah, but it happens to all of us too. We have separated ourselves from the creative cycle and it is acting upon us. “… but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: “And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire.” So here this pulsation had expended itself without Elijah being on hand to accommodate it. Of course this occurred because of his fear. Fear excludes the awareness of the pulsations of the creative process. So the cycle was aborted, but it had to work itself out to the point where there could be the acceptance once again by Elijah of the beginning point. Instead of this violent downpour of rain breaking the drought, it turned out to be a still, small voice. [greatcosmicstory.blogspot.com/2019/03/in-martin-cecil-february-15-1981-p.html]
“… and after the fire a still small voice.” We are concerned with accommodating the pulsations of the creative cycle as they are now. The point of initiation is a still, small voice. Quite fitting, isn’t it, that we are concerning ourselves with the Way of Stillness. It is not a matter of thinking about these things, talking about these things merely, but of accommodating the fact. There is a creative pulsation now. Are we capable of receiving it into the expression of our own living? Or are we so busy about our affairs that we maybe don’t notice it, to start with? Then if it does come within the range of our awareness we shake our heads and say no, because in moving with these things we don’t move according to the usual human habits.
This morning I woke up before the alarm went off—I need an alarm sometimes to get up on Sunday—and I started to get up, and Lillian said, “You’re not getting up now, are you?” Why not? It is not the usual human habit to get up before the alarm goes off, but if in accommodating the pulsations of the creative cycle one was impelled to get up at two o’clock in the morning, you get up at two o’clock in the morning, and it is not something to question. Some people complain about the fact that they can’t sleep—I’m talking about those who find themselves in such a state from time to time. They feel there is something wrong with the fact that they can’t sleep, and they are struggling with it and objecting to it. They want to sleep, but can’t. There is a human ego wanting something, can’t get it, complains about it, objects to it, instead of accepting the situation as it is. What’s wrong with it?
All things can be used to advantage if we accommodate the pulsations of the creative cycle. We find it all fits together, and human habits get broken in pieces. We don’t do the things that we want to do, or do the things that we don’t want to do; all we do is, with our hearts and minds, accommodate the creative cycle, whatever the pulsation may be. Let it be there. But we will never do that unless there is stillness. If we are busy thinking that we know the way things should be, how they should be in our own experience or in the experience of somebody else, we do not have any space available to know in the moment what that creative pulse of the spirit is. We’re so chockablock with human habits, and we are very distressed if someone interferes with them. Let’s be delighted! This is what needs to dissolve and pass away, that there may be an accommodation of the creative process; and that cannot be known except in the Way of Stillness.
You know how it is in a social setting: if there is a lull in the conversation, so that silence prevails for a few moments, there is an inclination for everybody to be very uncomfortable about it, fill it up with chatter—as though there was nothing else—which excludes the awareness of the pulsations of the creative process. Be still. It seems like an interesting contradiction, that when you are still you discover that there is considerable activity. The pulsations of the creative process of the universe are moving. They come out of heaven into the earth when there is someone present who will let it be so. But if we are busy about our own affairs, trying to do this and do that and achieve great things, we don’t know a thing about it. Be still!
We have these moments now, while we are together, touching into all this consciously, to become aware of the Way of Stillness. Usually this is thought of in terms of sleep: if you get still enough you’ll be asleep. That is a very different thing. In the beginning—each moment is a beginning—is the Word, is the creative process. All things were made in this fashion, by reason of the creative process; nothing is present that did not appear because of this. So we share the creative process quite naturally when we repent of our evil ways. “Oh I’m not an evil person.” No? Who said so? “Well you did.” Is it true? An evil person in that sense is a person who is not accommodating the creative cycle—a separate person, a person all on his or her own. Come into the creative process.
Come into the spiritual Body of Being. In isolation there is nothing, but in this Body there is everything. And in this Body we become aware of the creative compulsions that are present, and we share the awareness of them easily and naturally, without getting big heads, without all that self-importance. Be still, and know the truth. Lose your self. Die. And live! Discover what life is. So we move together in this process in this hour, but let it be consistent in all the hours and days to come.
John Gray — Martin, our human bodies and minds and hearts were produced in the first place by the creative process and are adequately capable of accommodating the creative process. Of course when used for other things, that truth isn’t known. But when, as you emphasized, we cease from such activity the space becomes available, the still space, in which the point of true beginning is known. That is unfathomable to the bright intellect, because it precedes cognition in this usual human sense, though the willingness must be there to trust the way life works in order to experience the way life works. Be still, and know.
Lord Exeter — Be still, and know.
© emissaries of divine light