The evening air, the fading light, the warmth, mid summer, sitting around a table, trees to the left, grass at the feet, a beer in one hand, a few friends around. They were meeting with a Spirit, a stranger but a friend, the power of the universe was in their hands. The words of old were lost in translation, one of them utters, they all agree. The number of wars fought in the name of God, all because of the translations. Every way you look at it, it has to be a flowing river, and it has to be allowed it’s natural course. Was he talking about the river, the words, or was it themselves. He them made a triangle with his hands, it’s this simple. We are all part of the living earth, given talents and energies, how we respond is the same plight as the gardener and the crops, it’s what you put into the experiences that decides the outcome. They looked at each other, they were all young fathers, there children’s future depended on what they did, with the garden.
Her ears shifted up, it was the voice, there was a rhyme in her heart, it wasn’t that she listened to pure rhythm, it was the way her heart reacted, there was an ease in her stride, even if she walked in the dark, she couldn’t see, so she learned to feel emotionally, the senses. Her eyes had never been cast upon envy as the eyes do normally see, they did not see the love that was on parade, it wasn’t that she wasn’t feeling inside, it was the way she expressed herself, the gentle sigh, the call of a bird in the trees, love is never threatening, just brings along a case of sensuous anxiety sometimes, so it was to the voice she was tuned, it was how she dealt with the difficulty of sight, having eyes and being unable to see, being blind while being able to see.
Solomon was remarking on the reaction of a fried, the widening smile, and how easy it was to ad a little sparkle to any life, how the lack of threat was freedom to many, just being able to be oneself, true. There are words we want to put on situations, sometimes we can’t find them, our emotional baggage is too heavy, other times we are afraid to utter them, afraid of the reaction and how it could change something. In the cafe he heard her voice, it wasn’t the conversation, it was the way she blended her smile and words with that voice, amen. It was music for the heart, that voice.
“you mean we aren’t responsible for global warming” asked daisy, who was seated at the rear of the class. it was a bunch of ten year olds, Solomon was filling in for the regular teacher, had no class prepared, the head teacher just asked him to supervise, kill the hour with them, surf the net, whatever, so long as they don’t make noise, okay!.
He sounds like my elderly aunt he thought as he walked the corridor, thinking, what would be a good subject to chat about, he was a good talker, and children love good stories. What’s in their own interests, make it personal for them, but not too personal. My Dad is an alcoholic and my mother is in rehab, how cool is that, no, not that reality, a little else, what is in the interests of children. They like animals, who doesn’t, they
like flowers, is this cheesy he thought as he entered the class. It was his first week as a newly trained teacher and he was getting used to it. Being a role model in the lives of the young was a big responsibility, they ought to pay us more he thought, his hand feeling the credit card bill he slipped into his pocket that morning, half his first weeks wages would go with it.
Mrs Murphy is sick and I’ll be taking over the hour he said.
He wrote on the board, in big letters. 70% of the worlds species are extinct or facing extinction.
Are we responsible for killing animals said daisy, whose father was a farmer, as well as thrashing the environment. My dad says you have to drill twice as deep these days to get clean water.
You are not responsible for global warning either, we are, my generation are!
so what are you going to do to fix it then asked Aaron. We can always hire a lawyer and force you by the way, that’s what they say, if they damage your prospects make them pay. Can children take lawsuits to force the government to do the right thing regards the environment asked another ten year old.
Aaron turned around, if they can impeach Donald they can do anything. Trumpie!!
She handles the gadget, in awe, it’s almost religious, it connects to billions, and she has the world in her hands, she wonders, the message is risque, will i press the button, and get involved in the game. The button pulses on the screen, push me push me, she’s on the brink of change, others have pressed the button, she wants to tell her mother, but she won’t understand, that’s what her online friends tell her. A neighbor passes, she smiles, she used to play with dolls, games children play, but that’s so old fashioned. Her idols, well, they, she doesn’t know what she wants, she’s young. There is no one to guide her, both parents work, she’s lucky that way, her friends mother works all the time and she has no father, who do you turn to, everybody is doing it, pressing the button. Her little heart sighs, why she pauses, she senses the fear, just do it anyway.
I’m young, is anyone hearing me. Solomon was reminding himself, and others, life is a journey filled with responsibility, risk, and a goal at the end, the door to heaven possibly. The older ones act as guides he imagined, the way teachers assist their pupils, because, they are young. Solomon wrote it as a prayer, many were calling out, seeking help, amen.
Great White Hope, on his shoulders rests hope, mixes with everyone, but as a term, great white hope, Solomon recalled ancients myths. In all the ancient cultures, there was a great tribulation, then the arrival of the “Great White Hope”, visitor from afar, a giant of a man in Mayan and Aztec culture, whose role was to drive peace and love. It was the main reason the Aztec’s welcomed with open arms the Spanish in the 15/16 centuries, they were a godsend they thought, here to help, not to extend their kingdom.
The flood happens the help arrived, it’s a common story in most cultures going back. The flood could be a plague, depends on the situation at the time.
In the context of the Great Change, there were many pretenders down through the years, many who ended up dictators, and some continents have had more of it than others, and there was the power that tried to curb any positive influences, replacing it when they saw it as a threat. Rome did it’s best, its not uncommon. It happens today, it happens everyday. In a nutshell, when the next Great White Hope arrives, let’s try and support the change, by pouring good thoughts into our everyday ordinary lives that are truly extraordinary. Good men and women everywhere, depended upon the efforts of others, many they would never meet, to counter the challenges
they face, in their efforts to right things. Imagine it, you voice has the power to do good.
The eyes that see, the nurture that’s unhealthy, the stuff your conscious can see but you hide away from, for fear of exposure. Society had a strange way about it, Solomon was questioning his own example, and then questioned the stuff young souls were getting exposed to, radiation of the heart, the habits that children imitate because they want to be like you. Around children, the cigarette is hidden, the heart is mindful, a metanoia happens, an unconscious awareness, perhaps it was why Children are a gift, the chance to renew. Who wanted that renewal to be tainted with bad habits, was it necessary to have every indulgence before them, teasing them on one hand, making them envious, tempting them for the future, exposing them to the radiation of human weakness. Lots of DNA was full of all sorts of experience, what’s in yours, what were you exposed to. If you could bury your bias, imagine it, you wouldn’t pass it on, not directly. On the other hand, if you practiced good habits, isn’t it easy to recognize it. The talk was of a world united in One faith, it was a casual conversation, just follow good example and wisdom, the best form of exposure there was.
Imagine it, you can say what you like about Jesus, and be forgiven, just imagine it, well it’s written, imagine it, you can’t say anything about the Holy Spirit, that offends God, just imagine it, well it’s written, the border that can’t be crossed, even the demon knows it, amen, just imagine it. Imagine it, the Spirit comes from God, just imagine it, the creator of the universe, Solomon didn’t have to imagine it, now imagine that, so imagine the prayers of the ancient prophets, and the modern day efforts to taint love, and resting places of Holy Spirit. As said all those years ago, the Helper arrives, it had, there was no need to imagine it, amen.