There is more out there than you might think. Much more, concealed behind a curtain of sorts. Some people hear about it and seek it out. Others stumble upon it by accident. Many do not believe it could possibly be there, and are not curious. Seeing is believing, after all. If you do somehow manage—at least once in your life—to catch even a glimpse, it’s not something you would forget. In fact you might consider it priceless.

The traveler

A famous picture, a wood engraving actually, called the Flammarion engraving, shows us someone who managed to get a peek behind the curtain.

There he is, down on his hands and knees, a wayfarer who has stumbled upon something unexpected. As he thrusts his head and shoulders into a crack on the horizon, that dividing line between the earth and the heavens, what wonders does he behold? With most of his body still in this world, he reaches out as if to touch, but the mysterious skyscapes and celestial realms seem far beyond his grasp. Or is he trying to hold back the overpowering reality with some feeble human gesture?

How did he get here? He seems to be on some kind of path, away from the town with its shops, streets, castles, and steeples. His back is turned to nature, the trees, bushes, and fields, the hills and valleys, even the sun, who looks on dispassionately. Do we sense a trace of concern in that steady gaze?

Which way is he going? In our left-to-right culture has his path taken him against the flow of progress? Has he been walking back through time or causality to reach the Source?

The traveler’s face we do not see. Is it filled with wonder and awe, or fear and dread? Look at his posture, almost prone on the ground, struggling to reach up. Did an attitude of humility lead him to this vision, or has the encounter itself brought him to his knees?

Inspiration

Everything about this image inspires me. Since I was young I wanted to be someone like that guy. I wanted to go back to that simpler time, live in a village like his, and set out to seek my fortune, to wander along that kind of path without a care in the world under the sun, moon, and stars. And most of all, I wanted to see what’s behind the curtain.

Of course, our world is not so simple. But the longing is the same. My quest looked very different from his. I grew up in a foreign land. My path was paved with books and illumined by songs, each one hinting at something more out there, and yet each one a curtain covering it. I was drawn to the sea, to boats and ships, to answer the calls of mariners in distress, to sail the tropics and the poles, feeling the wind in my face and the roll of the waves beneath my feet.

Wrapped up as I was in these adventures, when I least expected it, a visit to the local library landed me with a book that pointed to something I could learn that must have opened my heart to a chance encounter with someone who was living in a space that I never knew existed. This was completely new, and yet somehow familiar. I could not understand it, but I was sure it was real.

Not right away, but gradually, over time, my heart began moving me in that direction. I felt that I was standing before a door, an open door, into which I could see only dimly. I had a vague idea of what might lay on the other side, but no way to know for sure, without stepping in. The only thing holding me back was myself—my fears, doubts, and questions. Like the traveler in the picture, the vision, wishes, and desires of my head and heart had passed through, but a weighty body of cynicism, past disappointments, and obstinacy held me down on the ground, deeply attached to that familiar path I had been walking for so long.

Thankfully, I was not left to linger there forever. A Word from behind the curtain pulled me through. Suddenly I had crossed the threshold. My final doubts were dispelled, and I stood up, brushed myself off, and began to look around me in awe and wonder.

The world I was in looked very similar to the world I had left, but there was a new and growing sense of understanding and purpose. Now I could live and move with less resistance and increasing confidence. It was like putting on new clothes—no, a suit of armor—no, a cloak of invincibility. This new world was completely embedded in the old world, infusing it with radiance and joy. The effect was hardly noticeable at first, but it grew as I learned the ropes.

Today, thinking back on how I got here, I realize that my path was not typical. I would not, could not suggest it to anyone else. What I do know, though, is that the door is open and available to all. The Bahá’í writings say:

“This Day a door is open wider than both heaven and earth.” ¹

I can assure you it is. There is indeed something out there behind the curtain, something very real. Seek it out, if you so desire. And should you find it, persevere.

Notes

1. Advent of Divine Justice p 65 (link)