The Good Samaritans

Faith, political party , ethnic group, skin color, age, what does it matter what you pray if your deeds contradict what you plead, do you think it’s words alone, Solomon was talking with a pal, going on a journey, he exchanged a few ideas, the anxieties of parents was discussed, as when a child becomes an adult, when a son or daughter leaves the home for college. Does a bird worry when he leaves the nest, is there a big anxiety on the part of the parent birds, do they fret about what they heard, the anxieties of others, well, why should it matter you say, a girl on a journey, the fear of those waiting for her to return, the initial anxieties, then the relaxation, when it turns out all right, as it mostly does. what did we worry for. The parents want to hear the story of the kind stranger who gave her the right directions, the landlord who provided a clean living arrangement, the thoughtful shop keeper who welcomes her, good reference points. Every day, regardless of what you claim, it’s how you deal with the simple stuff usually that identifies you. Every day we get a chance to be a good Samaritan, and it costs nothing. As we add to the good list, we inspire that Spirit in others, it’s really that easy, to be a good Samaritan. AS Jesus says, his words being living words, we help everyone when we raise the Spirit in others. amen

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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.

 

Love Me Love me Love Me…

She sulks on the bed, waiting, she is young, he loves me, he loves me, she keeps on telling herself, as if repeating the words will make it real, he loves me, why doesn’t he love, she repeats the mantra, imitating her teacher of yoga from the year before, her former lover. He was big into the mantra, her former yoga teacher, but the lines crossed, lust and need overcame any love that was there, same way the addict needs a hit. I’ll be angry all day unless you give me he says, and she willingly provided, he loves me she said, that was then. Now she waits for her new man to love her even more. A product of the new world, where access to all things, adult or otherwise is easy, she believes as many do, that giving is what love does, it gives. In this mood she repeats her mantra, love me love me, when she has said it a thousand times, it will become permanent in his life, and she will have him. she is an odd woman, born of the modern world.

Solomon sighs, what a conundrum to be in. Say you are of God, as many are, how can you love the Great God unless you love what he or she created. Solomon was reflecting on the words of Jesus; one of the few in terms of global influence among all religions, his words still true to this day. How can you love me if you don’t love those that love me, how can you. Jealous love destroys, real love inspires.

Her relationship takes the familiar pattern; intensity, the burn out, the end. Love only wants the best for you, amen.

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.

Unwinding The Story

Tension, the coach was writing the word on the blackboard, underlined it, three times, Tension he said again, the class all look up, the teacher is explaining the depths of story, and trying to sound like an expert. Who does get it, tension, the ups and downs, the circle of life. The want to be authors want to change their lives, their teachers wants to publish one best seller, tension, the rent check is due and there isn’t enough in the bank to cover it, tension, a half a per cent movement in the share price will cost us another fifty million, if only I could reach that far she says to herself, sitting in her assist chair, her arms not working from the shoulders down, to be able to reach an itch, tension, waiting for someone to come in the door, waiting for the surgery door to open, waiting for the man to return the form without more corrections, tension.

Tension, Solomon wondered what it would feel like to have some of your functions returned to you, by Gift of God, would there be tension in the body

, what would the stages be like, would it be the caterpillar unwinding, the egg shell breaking up, the head peering out, what would it feel like, would it be instant, instant, would your muscles need time to lengthen, you’d be stiff, the strength in your shoulders would need building up. He had in his mind some prayers being said, and many millions calling out, come help us Dear Father, and then imagining the response, what load fills the net, who benefits. So many take credit for stuff they have nothing to do with, and then try to persuade others to follow them. Solomon sighed, One God, the credit starts and ends there, no intermediaries, only those with good opinion who are heard. In a nutshell, those who go before us, lay the paving stones, lets hope they are well directed in the times ahead. The tension will always be there, exercise if your worried, amen.

The Gift

“Imagine it, your thoughts can be used to remedy, heal, improve, restrict demons, curtail extremism, and an awful lot more, while being still able to enjoy a nice glass of wine, not forgetting the simple things, the peace of mind that good sleep brings, imagine, those demons of the night, they can do nothing, simply aware, of the future that awaits them, and being merciful, at least they get the opportunity to amend, and it’s all real.”

“Are you for real she says”, interrupting his flow. I only asked him about the book he was reading, she didn’t expect a thesis.

They are sitting side by side on the Jet, they are both flying across the ocean, strangers, she had asked a question about a book he was reading, “the imitation of life according to Jesus”. It’s a five hour flight, and he reminds her of someone from her past. She does not fear asking questions. Well, if he is reading a book about “Jesus”, he has to be friendly and easy to open a dialogue with, she hopes. Her own trust in the world is on a downer, divorced, discarded, dumped, thrown overboard, at a loose end, she is looking for the light. She’s been in this frame of mind all day, the journey she is making, a rest and escape from it all.

You don’t believe he says with a smile. Her eyes rise in her head, she looks at the ceiling, if only he knew she thinks. Dumping her stuff on a stranger, who wants to hear about other peoples woes. She purses her lips, half looks at the book cover, then begins to speak.

“If he was so right way back then, it seems he has disappeared don’t you think,” she lowers her eyes to the book.

Jesus she says again. He smiles, it’s catching isn’t it he smiles. The more you think of the Holy Name, the memories and feelings that are created. Well she says, you seem confident about it, can you explain it simply for me. He hums and haws. No one want’s to be a bad teacher, and not every question can be answered as if it’s coming from a machine or robot.

His tongue swirls around his mouth, he catches the scent of her perfume, it makes his nose itchy, he reaches up and rubs his nose.

“Spirit he says, it’s inside you, and there is the Spirit of God, that stuff you call the soul. If you imagine your soul as a new computer, without scratches, then years later, used, with a few cuts and smears, after years of usage, when you are prepared to put it in the rubbish, you might call it a journey. Life is like that disc. What condition is it in at the end of the journey when it’s returned to the original vendor, do you get me he says.”

She is confused, she is trying to get her head around it. Who wants a philosophy lesson on a mid Atlantic flight. Computer discs, souls, the condition at the end, she is thinking all these bits. He looks at her, can see that she is digesting what he has said, waits.

Confusing he says, she pauses, well, it’s not what I expected. The air hostess is passing with the trolley. Can I have a gin and tonic he says, and yourself he says. Non drinker she says.

She listens to the crackle of the ice, as the liquid flows over the ice. He listens and talks well, she wonders how long the flight is, there are many questions she wants answers to. Being an achiever all her life, this conversation is something she does not want to miss. Her Heart feels lighter, that name she sighs, Jesus.

I just Growing up…

She sits in the chair, a little subdued, the medication, she sits while she waits, she is not so sturdy, they gave her a diagnosis, the memory disease, well, it’s an age thing. The limbs don’t have the same stretch, your energy isn’t what it was, the eyes not a clear as they used to be, the appetite too, not as appealing, getting old they said, Mable sighs, I am on a journey, I’m not giving up, I am growing up. A mind of her own, her own ideas, she didn’t beleive the blarney of men in charge, thanks rubbish, who filled them with such stuff, who. She fought her life seeking equality, now the journey has brought her to the care home, at the mercy of those she railed against, those that followed the rules. A nurse approaches, Mabel frowns, the pills, the last time she refused it, they sedated her a whole day, and gave her god knows what. I was just forgetting stuff, doesn’t everybody do that. How much do so many hide inside their heads. How those playing games would change the topic once the questions got testy. No one is allowed question the experts.

Solomon smiled, the story he heard on the radio, the lady with the mind disease, all she wanted, treated me as I am, it’s not your pity I want. Getting old sighed Solomon, we just want to be accepted. The story is never ending, it’s just a change in circumstances, one day you breath, the next your a bird, flying somewhere. Do birds worry when they wake, do they reach for the medication. Mabel, she is a living being in a fast changing world, so fast, the time to look after her is no longer left to relatives, the world so busy, it can hardly look after itself.

The weather, warm and sunny, no one rushing, the only que at the ice cream van, mabel recalls the days of old, how everything that a mother could do was done, same as it always was, by mothers across the world. There is a bitter taste in Mabels mouth, its’ not the tablets, its the story in the paper. The role of women, whitewashed from all circles of importance from the beginning of christianity, then copied by other religions, framing the mind set, bastards she sighs to herself.