It feels strange, exciting and scary, the whole journey does, it feels like walking around blindfolded, touching all kind of stuff, imagining what it is, its substance and characteristics, whether it is nice or not, learning how not to judge, by judging with blind randomness.
It feels like mountain climbing, or walking even, there is a great excitement and inspiration in trying to get to the highest peak, moving higher and higher, covering more and more distance, but each time we look up our destination doesn’t seem to be an inch closer, and hence there is no orgasm and euphoria after each conquered smaller of peaks, there is a moment of reflection and possibly even mild, thoughtful depression, and instead of jumping up and down with joy and excitement, I quietly and nervously whisper questions to myself, questions such as “why am I doing it? Is it worth it? What is the point?” And two simple answers emerge, or rather one in 2 disguises: if I am doing all this for the sake of getting to the highest peak - then there is absolutely no point and the whole journey is rather hopeless and depressing.  But if I am doing this for my love and joy of mountain climbing - then boy, am I having the greatest time of my life or what?!
It feels dizzy and wobbly. I am discovering treasures, treasures I sought out all my life, treasures that seemed so far and unreachable to me that I never knew what I was searching for or how to go about it, treasures that were vague and transparent. And I am discovering those treasures right next to me, buried inside me in fact. And in a classic comedy style, I climbed mountains and flew across oceans looking for something I carried with me all the time.
The neglected treasures got buried under all kind of crap, all our life experiences, painful and embarrassing mistakes, unfinished businesses, dark, shadowy ingredients of our psyche, we thought we left all this garbage “behind”, we worked so hard on forgetting it all and on “moving on”, only to discover that we have to dig through this, by now slimy and rotten stuff, in order to dig out the treasures, treasures which, ironically, have a great potential to prevent such unpleasant waste accumulation, filling all dark corners with blissful warm rays of sunshine instead.
First of all there is fear, numbing yet trembling fear, fear of digging out pains, hurts and nightmares we cannot even bring ourselves to think about, snaky sneaky fear hissing hypnotically into our ears, like a lullaby, reasons why digging our own bog is against our nature, an act of sin against ourselves, damn Serpent uses all kind of tricks to prevent us from discovering the Gold, mental, psychological, emotional, you name them, and hence this is a Land with a very wobbly foundations, one can never quite be sure where one stands, and whether one’s motives lead one towards the Gold or from it, one is pulled and manipulated by two, opposite and undetectable forces, and the most subjectively objective guidance one can receive is one’s own faith, unreliable as it may seem.
A simple analogy here could be that of a swimmer submerged in the ocean, with two people in the boats on the opposite sides of his horizon of vision. One of the people is his friend, the other his enemy. Hence must swim to the right person but he cannot tell who is the right person by visual means.
So there is a wobbly with fear soul and body, sustained by wobbly grounds to stand on. Paralyzed by the prospect of the forthcoming ordeal. Digging through all the skeletons we buried secretly from ourselves is not a simple matter of putting a gas mask on, covering one’s eyes, putting rubber gloves on and removing the disgusting stuff with a shovel in some other dark corner we hopefully will never see. Oh no, that would be far too simple and defeat the whole point. It is “climbing mountains” analogy all over again. We are not digging out the bog in order to get to the Gold, it is the digging process, dissolving rotten waste, transforming it into golden rays of full of loving vibration light that is our Golden Treasure. So each hurt, disgust, embarrassment, cruelty, pain, violence, each skeleton needs to be dug out with loving care and full awareness, eyes wide open, gently cleaned up so it shines with its whiteness, and then embraced and spent as much time with as necessary for it to lose it all ugly, dark and terrifying qualities and become what it is: a damn skeleton, just a pile of bones.
And then, with this tremendous trembling wobbliness, uncertainty factor so high that it borders on a blind faith, then we also have to cope with the Golden Stuff, the treasures, although, logically speaking, we dig in order to get to Gold, in fact those two processes are insupportable, a little bit like performing a mountain-climbing in order to climb a Mountain. So there is a Golden Stuff to be dealt with as well, disgusting, stinking rotten stuff and Blissful Light creeping in, the strong temptation to turn fully to the Light, leaving the unpleasant behind, but every time we do that the Light starts to fade away, damn Serpent and The Apple, we have been misled again, it is “other” way around, we are digging out the Light, whose rays give us guidance as to what to dig, the circular paradox, the very homely nature of our realm.
And it is this very Light that causes a reflective dizziness, it is ungraspable, untouchable, non-existent, it cannot be captured, controlled, had, not even in the world of abstract logic, yet its presence is felt, sometimes very strongly, it comes and goes, like tides, but there are some patterns of its movement emerging, patterns we create ourselves, and this is where dizzy excitement and enthusiasm is born, the promise of being able to tune in to those patterns, to tune in with the harmonics of cleansing and invigorating Light, to become One-Man-Symphonic-Orchestra instead of One-Man-Discord.
And this is where the “real” Quest beings. The Quest of grasping ungraspable.
