No, there is no such word as "transing," but we certainly seem to be transforming, transmuting, transcending, in transit. This month's articles touch on the change of one's self in several venues. From mind-expanding visions of the vastness of atomic structure to painting the Creation, from the freedom of the human spirit to the freedom inherent in lively debate, our authors encourage looking within and without.
I looked up the definition of the prefix "trans," a word straight out of Latin. "Over, across, beyond, through" -- change of one thing or quality over into another -- transcend; "completeness of change" -- transfigure, transform; "complete change of substance" -- transmute. Which leads me to "alchemy."
Alchemy appears in the 11th lesson of The Way of the Wizard (by Deepak Chopra, Harmony Books, 1995)) when Merlin explains to Arthur that humans wrap clouds of sometimes dense energies about their souls and until the layers are peeled away, the "clear, timeless core that lies at your center" will never be discovered. To Arthur Merlin explains, "I have told you often that this lump of flesh and bones is not your body, that this limited personality you experience is not your self. Your body is actually infinite and one with the universe. Your spirit encompasses all spirits and has no limit in time or space. The work of alchemy will unfold these truths before you."
Chopra goes on to explain the lesson:
In the lore of alchemy, the four elements--earth, air, water, and fire--mysteriously combined to arrive at a magical end product called life. It is undeniable that you are made of earth, air, and water that have been reshuffled from some earlier form, such as food. The fire that sparks these lifeless materials into life can't be distilled, however, because it isn't a visible fire, or even metabolic heat. It is the fire of transformation, pure and simple. Therefore you are the transformation, the transformer, and the transformed. You are your own alchemist, constantly transmuting dull, lifeless molecules into the living embodiment of yourself.
Chopra reminds us that even while you are here, reading these words, that your physical body is constantly performing millions of functions, all alchemical in nature, transforming in myriads of ways the outer to the inner. Then he describes an exercise in which you imagine your life as a scroll extending backwards into the past, and you follow it back and back to the one cell you once were and then imagining yourself even before that without the cell to attach yourself to. Crossing this threshhold, you still remain "a viewing awareness that stays the same even though the scenery of your life constantly changes. This is your identity as awareness, a lively, wise alchemist who stands unattached, behind the constant show of transformation."
With that to think about, I'll close with another kind of transformation:
The Edge
seven tides of living shell do rise and neap
calcareously, nacreously, bodies weep
away the sand, away the sea, out to the deep
shingle lines and winter whines do sun outweigh
cloudy pearl in battered swirl enmesh the bay
tiny grains unnumbered times slipping away
down to look, down to find the tiny one
the humblest child of seascape born, only begun
too hollow now, a hopeful star dried to the sun
becoming just the grains of sand we walk upon.
(Copyright 1992)
Good journeying,
Cherie Staples
Editor