Views

Down from the plain one could see he was standing on the narrow ledge with his back against the wall, so to speak. The distance from the plain up to the rock shelf was more than a hundred meters, and the shelf was so narrow that he could just keep his footing. His arms were spread out to the side with palms facing toward the cliff.

He had a view of a stunning panorama. Top glorious and infinite sky, the bottom an extensive landscape with a glittering river which writhed in a lazy way. When he looked down, he felt an icing of the spine. Not because he was afraid, but because the height and the way he was standing on, together made an impression, as he invariably was reminded of how little he needed to quickly fall so low.

Right behind him was a wooden door, which he could open with a push back if he wanted. He could hear the beautiful music from inside and spread glorious, appetizing scents that reminded him of how appealing there was behind the door. He could also hear footsteps and happy babbling and slightly golden light found its way through the cracks. All of this was his as soon as he wanted, but there was something fascinating about staying here, at least a little while and experience the feelings and moods which lay on a completely different level than his usual confidence to offer. He stood here often for half an hour, and felt he charged his mental batteries.

Today there was a new element in his experience. Half a meter from his face frolicking an exceptionally beautiful butterfly itself. He did not know this kind and marveled at its unique , luminous and delicate colors. His attention gathered automatically fully on it, and little by little it dawned on him that it spoke to him in a voice as fine as a spider web thin silver thread:

¨Come to me lean towards freedom. I am sent in this special way, because the time is ripe. I am a love and infinite goddess. Turn your palms forward and give completely let go. Do not be afraid, for the silent ocean of consciousness will grab you and make you free from now on and forever. Fear is the greatest sin you might wear, it will leave you if your courage and your borderless trust to me, determines your action. If you do not dare, if you fear for your life and go through the door behind you, I can not tell you when you see me again, because I have so many to visit and offer freedom. I clothe me several different shapes and colors, so I always dress for the occasion. You will also completely forget me for many, many years and seek sunlight and electric light instead of mental light, until your soul one day again get homesick. Please do therefore not wait even a second more.¨

Down from the plain one could not see this butterfly, but there were other butterflies frolicking among the flowers that grew on the banks of the river. The river glittered still in the beautiful sunlight and occupied the viewer’s attention.

Looking up on the narrow ledge, there was not a living soul to see now. Only a closed door.

But it says nothing in itself.

//To venture.

"To dare is to lose footing for a moment, not to dare is to lose oneself"

Quote by Søren Kierkegaard (1813-1853), Danish theologian and philosopher.

Udsigt.

Nede fra sletten kunne man se, han stod på den smalle klippehylde, med ryggen mod muren, så at sige. Afstanden fra sletten op til klippehylden var mere end hundrede meter, og hylden var så smal, at han netop kunne bevare fodfæstet. Hans arme var bredt ud til siden med håndfladerne vendt mod klippen.

Han havde udsigt til et fantastisk panorama. Øverst en skyfri og uendelig himmel, nederst et udstrakt landskab med en solglitrende flod som bugtede sig på en doven måde. Når han kiggede ned, følte han en isning i rygraden. Ikke fordi han var bange, men fordi højden og måden han stod på, sammen gjorde et vist indtryk, da han uvægerligt blev mindet om, hvor lidt der skulle til for hurtigt at falde så dybt.

Lige bag ham var en trædør, som han kunne åbne med et skub af ryggen, hvis han ville. Han kunne høre den smukkeste musik der inde fra, og der bredte sig herlige, appetitvækkende dufte som mindede ham om, hvor tiltalende der var bag døren. Han kunne også høre fodtrin og glad pludren, og lidt gyldent lys fandt vej gennem sprækkerne. Alt dette var jo hans, så snart han ville, men der var noget fascinerende ved at stå her, i hvert fald en lille stund, og opleve følelser og stemninger som lå på et helt andet niveau, end hans vante tryghed kunne tilbyde. Han stod her ofte en halv times tid, og følte han ladede sine mentale batterier op.

I dag var der et nyt element i hans erfaring. En halv meters afstand fra hans ansigt boltrede en usædvanlig smuk sommerfugl sig. Han kendte ikke denne art og undrede sig over dens helt specielle, selvlysende og sarte farver. Hans opmærksomhed samlede sig automatisk helt og fuldt om den, og lidt efter lidt gik det op for ham, at den talte til ham med en stemme så fin som en spindelvævstynd sølvtråd:

¨Kom ud til mig, læn dig frem mod friheden. Jeg er sendt på denne særlige måde, fordi tiden er moden. Jeg er kærlighedens og uendelighedens gudinde. Vend dine håndflader fremad og giv helt slip. Du skal ikke være bange, for bevidsthedsoceanet vil gribe dig og gøre dig fri fra nu af og altid. Frygt er den største synd, og bærer du på den, vil den forlade dig, hvis dit mod og din grænsefri tillid til mig afgør din handling. Hvis du alligevel ikke tør, hvis du frygter for dit liv og går ind ad døren i stedet, kan jeg ikke sige dig, hvornår du ser mig igen, for jeg har så mange at besøge og tilbyde frihed. Og jeg iklæder mig flere forskellige former og farver, så jeg altid er klædt på til lejligheden. Du vil så også helt glemme mig i mange, mange år og søge sollys og elektrisk lys i stedet for mentalt lys, indtil din sjæl en skønne dag igen får hjemve. Tøv derfor ikke et sekund.¨

Nede fra sletten kunne man ikke se denne sommerfugl, men der var andre sommerfugle som boltrede sig blandt de blomster som voksede ved bredderne af floden. Floden glitrede stadig i det smukke sollys og drog gang på gang beskuerens opmærksomhed til sig. Kiggede man opad mod den smalle klippehylde, var der ikke en levende sjæl at se. Og døren var lukket.

Men det siger jo ikke noget i sig selv.