Baggage and the Past

learn from your life, don’t ignore your past, and don’t over burden yourself with worthless baggage, forgive your mistakes, and forgive others theirs, this life is a journey not a day trip, so while you forgive others, others may forgive you. How can you say you don’t like fish if you don’t try it a few times, same with forgiveness, until you try it you will never know what it feels like, the rush of energy you will feel, the lightness of being, the inner well being. Perhaps, you want to feel misery and just pass it on, stay addicted as they say. As children, we learn from the imitation around us.

Solomon was trying to get to the nub of the issue; how to become light, as we are children of the light. He surmised, I guess you have to unload the resentments you store up inside. Can you imagine a bird flying with an Iron Bar attached to his leg. Neither do I. There were many little habits that we could build into our lives, easily. Don’t look away when you see suffering, don’t elevate yourself when one day you will be the same as dirt, who are you fooling. Stop before you go out the door, think, will I do something good today, and if you have a talent, it was given to you to be shared out. AS Neil Young says, castles in the Head, zero on the ground, (well)….

Birds Fly, they wear no parachutes, they rise when they want, they can see a worm from a thousand feet, and a small fish under water from

far on high, and you think you have a special skill; well, you did once. Light, find it inside you, amen.

 

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The Older Generation

How can they cope she said, it’s all credit, the two friends were sitting in a cafe, retirees, their usual afternoon chat, one of the grand children was immersed in debt, so the friend shared. He sighed, the older of the two, I don’t know what has them this way. He recalls the odd jobs he did in college to survive, he goes on, he is a retired doctor. She nods, instant everything these days, she nods, a woman crosses the street, the boob job, they can’t be real, he smiles, I noticed a few all right, the older generation.

Example, was the same as it ever was, followed. Solomon wondered did they notice the signals they were giving out. It wasn’t anything personal, it never is, till it reaches your door, then the great wish I thought differently moment. He was recalling the chat with the old friend, they talked a few yards as they strolled, about the energy of certain places, why there was a depth of sadness in certain towns and places, depression sighed Solomon, not like the old days, when they used to talk. Listening to the older generation was wisdom in action.

if only they listened to Mosses and hadn’t worshiped the golden calf, maybe that was a future lesson, and a warning to all of us, from the older generation, amen.

Old Man Christmas

The days close in on the main event, and the visitors are on their way, friends and relatives we haven’t seen for a while, including the “old man”, will be showing up. Last preparations, runs to the store, the gathering of wood, it is all getting prepared. I have met many, and many had met him, but it was the “old man”, who told the best stories. Every night over the Christmas period, he used to read us stories, from his head, the story of the turkey with the three heads, the most entertaining one of all. He had problems with his eyesight, didn’t know where to look!

What was the reason I remember the “old man”. why did others slip from memory, it was one of those questions that is not easy to answer, I suppose when you are small, it’s the great tales you recall as you get older, and the “old man”, well, he loved telling them. I realize now, many years older, and hopefully wiser, he was just passing the tradition on, a bit like Christmas itself, a reminder of other things, amen.

“and there was a slice of bacon for dinner and gravy if we were lucky!”

“did they do dessert?” asked siobhan, her face down

We would always fall asleep before the end. Isn’t that the great thing about a good story, it just lives on, with the help of the “old man”, of course.

Her hands

she doesn’t grip the way she did before, it’s a struggle to open the blister pack but she manages. I need a cure, she sighs, she has a picture of him on her side board, what will i do, her hands. A radio blares to life, the neighbor next door is hard of hearing, so the music is up loud, not that again, then the tune begins, one they used to listen to, he passed away a year before and she misses him, your hands he used to say, they are so fine. They played piano so well, now they hardly worked, amen.

In the world of the old, it was lonely and hard to get on, lonely and afraid of the night, when she was with him, well she never had to worry. The tune plays on, the memory comes back, she hears a noise at the door, gets up slowly and pats over to the door, it’s James he says, he is her nephew, he has come to lend her his hands.

Many hands ease the load, many hearts working and the love flows.

All about me….

there is nothing more important than me, my pain my discomfort my career my health, so why should i care about you, this life is all about me. Every morning the mirror, she counts the grey hairs, only twenty and going grey already, must change my shampoo.

It gets me going, makes me want to get out of bed, how else would i cope without it, it’s what i need, the first drink, the first pill, the first peak at the likes and dislikes board. heard it say, so and so had 50,000 followers, another had half a million, another had over a million, followers, the new term for friendship some used. Well, did any of them know each other, no.

Solomon recalled the old words, spoken by Jesus, they didn’t know me, but knew of me. It was one way of saying it, having eyes that see but see nothing at all, only me.

The baby

This Child is not ordinary, she reminds me of my grandfather she says, the eyes. Every Mother has the reaction, some more than others. Would you ever put an effort into what those eyes will soon be seeing by the time it’s four and five, has anyone ever thought of the images that are going to fill that little doting head. Character, i don’t think so, even those exposed to radiation have character, but not my baby. I’d die for the child, and the father says, if anyone harmed my baby, they’d not find refuge on the earth. he flexes his muscles, makes the point, they’ll find out in short time. So why are so many sitting down when they should be standing. Love Baby, love a peaceful world, amen.