Thinking Tough

Putting on your  shoes, reaching over the bed, damn, it’s a long way down there, putting on your shoes, what a dream. How simple a thought how impossible the dream, he looks at the shoes, the day is an anniversary. Twelve months since the accident, it seems like yesterday. The waiting is the worst part. He pulled the bell ten minutes earlier, still no response. It’s a busy unit. He stares at the shoes, thinking all the time, the petty issues we worry over, nothing really. The soup is cold, does it matter, the meat is over cooked, was the chef drinking again, the wry comments. He left the restaurant, his memory is fuzzy, it’s never the same after a great trauma. He tries to recall the events, but it gets to the point when it goes blank. He was three days in a coma.

The door opens, she opens her mouth, a cheery sound escapes. Ready for the day, any plans she says. He looks at the shoes, she catches his gaze, knows what he is thinking. One day, they are making great strides medically she says. Nineteen years of age, unable to move from the chest down, and you think it’s tough he says, thinking to himself.

Solomon sighed; there is a Spirit you can ignite inside you, but it requires effort, a step in the dark, but you have to trust. What was it Jesus said; you have to have faith, that’s where the power of Spirit lies. Once you did, you could ask for anything. Imagine the wonder, the feelings in the feet, pins and needles feeling, a grief to some, the greatest of reliefs to others.

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Helen Keller Day

Happy Birthday Helen, it’s been awhile but the memory lives on, the deaf blind are not alone anymore, your name summons the help, it is how we can best remember her. They gather at the funeral, they have tears in their eyes, we will never forget you tears, then they forget you. Helen, you were a prophet, you changed the way many see disabilities, same way the earlier prophets aroused Interest in God, reminding them. We have gone astray, the light comes, then the memories return, we have another destiny, it’s greater than this world, Helen Keller, you remind us, thanks.

Lying in the bed, she is safe, the dark has no fear, she is on the same level, he holds her, she dreams, her troubles don’t exist when she is safe in his arms. Solomon sighed, that is what it is like, when in the presence of God, the presence of Love kills all fears. Then the day comes, and the reminders are there, what she would give to be safe in his arms. Solomon sighed, some names makes us feel good, Helen Keller does.

My Eyes

Damn advertising Guru, could sell a g-string to your ninety year old aunt, and tell her it was comfortable, get you to forget yourself for a while, the blurb, you look great in that, even if you could not see, darn advertising guru, as for those psycho dudes, the head experts, is there a ship I could borrow, the mid Atlantic would be a good place to bring them for a Holiday, moor them off shore with their off shore accounts, a few strong anchors, away from everyone where they can’t do anymore harm. Blast sighed Solomon, he listened to the news, the crocodile tears, the affect of pornography on happiness, relationships, and children of course, the darn advertising Guru, what medication was he on, vitamin “M” of course like so many. Too darn busy getting their thrills to wonder about the affect it was having on others. Solomon encountered the “Spirit” the early apostles enjoyed, and when it is real, you don’t have to excuse your thoughts. So many eyes squinting over their small screens, wondering, is this love what we are seeing, cause they seen to be doing nothing else.

My eyes cried God, what are they doing to the children of the world. Solomon recalled the words of Jesus, God is inside you, the Spirit, it’s not over there, it’s inside you. Why pollute the eyes of God you wonder, unless you intended in murdering the Spirit within. Holidays are occasions, not every day experiences. One of those moments, he saw the expression on the faces, he prayed, there was a sense of disappointment. He listened to the words, the bread and the fish, the division of food, the Spread of the Spirit, well being, it was a lesson, simple as that, you share and it gets better for everyone, Amen.

Emeute, Civilizations and Victor Hugo….

You can have petty arguments that blow up into full scale revolutions, the harm you think your putting an end to, only to realize later the bigger hole you have built for yourself, thereby the merry go round of harm spins faster, the eye for an eye mentality that so many hold so dear, ends up destroying happiness and causing even more harm everywhere, the very goal you had when your started your emeute, as Victor Hugo would say, an end to it. Retaliate, how we hear those words, we have to avenge ourselves, we have to get even, we will lose face, how many wars were started with that mindset, nations and tribes emotionalized to the point of frenzy, while the voices of reason were drowned out.

Solomon sighed, it was refreshing to hear the comparative remarks of Donald Trump, who decided not to avenge the so called hurt caused in the Arabian Gulf, be it a blip, be it a bonfire started by a child, two tribes didn’t go to war, and reason was used, when the expected response didn’t occur. Emeute, struggles that can be solved without blood shed, you just have to listen.

Solomon was reading the literary classic of Victor Hugo, pages of rhythm, written 150 years ago, explaining how the world had to learn from it’s past. Many years later, after so many social changes, the core of the book, still holds. Hugo, Thanks for making the effort, amen. Having encountered the Spirit, Solomon had his own reasons for listening; we are under the Holy Radar, what a great feeling, amen.

Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog

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Hey gang! I found a very appealing and fascinating set of postcards from 1907 , featuring newlyweds off on their first adventure together : – their honeymoon. These cards were published by the Julius Bien & Co. Lithographic firm, which was in business between 1850-1915 in New York City. Bien himself was originally an immigrant […]

via Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog

Those Old Wars

A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.

I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.

Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.

Old Boy Blues

This can’t be happening Cardinal, it does not appear in any of our texts, it seems to be from the other Book, they don’t want to mention the word, why, it will mean extending their vision of compassion, it’s a touchy subject and they have got used to control, why would they ever dream of ever giving up that. You mean we are not the only ones, the setting, can’t you see it, 2,000 years earlier, the same argument between the Pharisee’s, as they gather to discuss the words of Jesus, anxious that he is getting a hearing and the crowds, worse still, they are listening to him, and he is even doing what the divine can only do, or is it demons.

The thought of eating without the ritual cleaning, and all sorts of food is fine with him, damn it, if this is allowed to go on, it’s going to make our rules and regulations meaningless, how did we allow it they sigh. Power, the old problem, and the zealots who are certain of their authority, enforceable authority, able at will, to undermine, well, when you imagine it, they put Jesus on the cross, hoping it was the ending of him, little did they know, it was only the beginning, and it’s being growing ever since, The Power of Spirit, and how it works to overcome the instincts that destroy us. Old boy blues, how can they explain this?.

Solomon sighed, the sun bursts from the Sky, the approval from on High, and no set of rules to coral it, just sweet simplicity. The old men could be discussing the fate of Joan of Arc, it could be anyone of Great Spirit, what happens, as Jesus said, they murdered the prophets and then afterwards, praised them. He was reading a book, the green cup of wisdom, words in the Islam Holy Book, is mentioned in the story, as for other words, they prophecy the Return of Jesus, too. In the end, the goal is the same, there are those who hold the words on high and repeat them, and there are those who acknowledge them, but don’t follow them, in the middle, the Wisdom of Jesus, solves all problems, for those who use them, same as good medication, taken with care, amen.