Roots

 

Frustration, we can get through this, the stock market is falling and the traders are falling like flies, the investors are not so easily bought, and those phone calls no longer work, they have other matters on their minds, what a lot of grief, can’t pump the stock and convince someone anymore.

Religious barter, wars and indifference, there has to be a solution to all this. Well I am not willing to share, lets get a third opinion. They buy the opinion of the expert to give them the opinion they want. They know it’s all lies, but the expert gave them the nod, and his testimony is on record. At the worst, they will blame the expert, and they will try another way, determined to get their way, one way or another.

The approval of the religious gave the fanatics the licence for war. Who was going to disagree, the weight of the opinion, you’d be a fool to go against him. Solomon sighed, the replacement of the opinions that went against the trend, same as the spoiled child, who always had his will done.

Solomon sighed, men went to war, given the licence to kill, and when they needed rest, those that led them, gave them licence to pillage, enslaving women, well boys, you need to let the weapons down, go help yourself, those women can easily be replaced. This is not a diet of behaviour that can last. after a while, places became institutionalized, became places, where no spirit dared enter.

Paradise, Solomon smiled, what a dream. One, then two, then three, when we want to make it happen, we will start on the steps necessary. The world might have reversed into a cul de sac for awhile, but there wasn’t anything stopping a reversal of policy.

Jesus gave us fair warning of the efforts of those who held sway, who would try to stop all forms of change, that did not leave them in charge, he even laid out the steps. Eternal truths don’t come often, but Solomon could testify, the Spirit had arrived, and after wards, those of the other Spirit arrived, and tried to remove the inner peace, that gave the Spirit space. He had news for them, those who even dared attempt interfere with the Holy Spirit, it wasn’t forgivable to begin with, so says Jesus. Know your roots, amen.

Focus in times of virus….

Laid up in hospital, nothing to do, hopefully you will recover, the advice of the physician, the nurse who comes when your buzzer goes off, time to eat, time to take your medication. She is on a visit to see her grandfather. Down the corridor and second room to the left, she breezes along. A big smile is prepared before she enters the room, she wonders what form he will be in, he is a grumpy sort, but kind. Doesn’t fire but straight.

Hi she says, big smile on her face, she is wearing the obligatory mask, she pulls it aside while she bends to kiss him on the forehead, why are you wearing that he remarks, wheezing, nearly out of breath, the lungs not as strong as they used to be. He is approaching ninety, has been through the second world war, Korea, Vietnam, an army vet as the experience tells you.

We all have to wear them now, it’s the law.

It takes your mind off the other stuff he replies.

What do you mean by that she says. …

He drifts off to sleep, she leaves him to have the quite moment, she waits. He is in a dream, it’s not dreaming, he is a boy again, on summer retreat with friends, the two week camp they used to have during the summer break. Climbing walls, chasing cows, trying to climb the neighbors apple trees without getting caught, playing cowboys and Indians. She watches the expression change on his face, the array of smiles, what gives him the thrill, he is old, the life he lived, she can only imagine. Suddenly he wakes up, he is shocked to see her still there.

you must have been dreaming she says.

What?

You have a smile on your face, I was watching you.

Oh that he says.

there was a time when…

Children played, they slept in the same bed, teenagers, went about together during the day, no anxiety, no stressed parents, no one anxious, no one concerned with predators, no thoughts such as these existed whatsoever. He rambles on. and water you could drink from the tap, that was till they modernized it all. He looks at her.

She thinks, old man, what does he know.

I think it’s time to go she says. She pushes her mask to the side, tips his forehead with his lips, see you soon she says, whatever he replies.

later, she retells the story of the visit to her sister, how was he she says. He will live to a hundred, but I didn’t like the creepy stares of the male nurse, he scared me. What do you mean.

Solomon sighed, the difference in the ages, and the imaginings in the mind. The stuff that is fed into them, and the anxieties that last forever. The virus was a topic of conversation all over the world. It refocused the minds on the living.

 

Red Hot Chilies For Fear

 

I am still young…..

On the streets, she is in her twenties, she is young for sure. Watching it all, for ever aware, it’s how she feels secure, getting over it has not been easy, she is trying to play it safe if safe is possible. The memory of that night, the lasting impression, not the one she wanted to store, it has forced itself inside her like a thief, unwelcome, but there. In her side pocket her hand, which is wrapped around, a small bottle of hot chili pepper spray, a concoction she prepared herself, by adding a few heavy peppers to the original spray, she wants it to stop a horse, she has tried it on her cat, and it worked. The cat stayed away for a month, sorry puss. The sudden noise of a car startles, she recoils from any loud noises, her inner calm, she was strong she thought, not strong enough to fight the pills they gave her; she has nightmares wondering what they did to her, the only scars, a large bruise spot, the real scar, the fear they left behind. Was that the reason she joined the pioneers; never going to trust alcohol again or anyone using the stuff. Who knows why, it happens, the therapist told her she’d get over it, words that came all to easily to mind, experts are supposed to know. Paddy, so polite in the beginning, never wanted much, was it all an act, years later, perhaps it was she doing the acting, she doesn’t enjoy the thought, he might have been happy with a go to woman, mentally he was never a challenge to her, is it all about my life, is the today me the real person, or is it a return to who she was before. Dreaming, did she dream. When did it stop, was it the bout of depression, no she sighs, that was after the first beating, at least she saw it coming.

Her head in her hands, she twists her vision towards the bottle, a sly glance. You, she reaches for it, examines the label, her vision is improving, she can read the small print, she lets out a laugh, what a sense of humour, she imagines God to be a comic somewhere, taking the piss with us, allowing us thrash the party, then like an absent father, returns out of the blue, not as a rich man, but as an extremely happy man, who wears a permanent smile, takes a can from one of the party goers while exclaiming, there will be a clean up she, or he says, to which all at the party nod approvingly, relieved to hear, that while the party is over, it’s not the end of all parties, a break in the contagion, slowdown time, as if the jet that is carrying his baggage is about to come into land, presents for the children, stiff warnings too, behave yourselves he says, play safe, a phrase everyone smiles at, especially Amy, who had her first close encounter of the intimate kind, with her boyfriend, love connection with play safe top of the priority list. Well, if you are provided with the means of spiritual well being in it’s fullest, you have to take into account the assets you are born with. Is that wishful thinking, she is young, how else can you survive, doom and gloom ignores the beauty of art, not everyone went to Amsterdam to view available women and cheap sex, not forgetting the other; there are museums as well.

August

The year 2020, the world needs rest, the populations on the move, internally if not physically, where to turn, can I, the questions, the world turned upside down, the news dramatic, the reactions chaotic, the mind full of the dread, what is happening, is this all in my head, turmoil. A mini version of a strange new world, it was going in one direction, then all of a sudden, change, how has it happened, what are we going to do now. Young artists, new ideas, the ideals they shared, the chance to put it in words, the cynics of the past, this will never change, those getting their wish, could we have done it any better.

Solomon wondered, the world stops, the ease of movement halts, a scene from a war movie, the unassailable march of the JUGGERNAUT, the sighs in the hearts of the oppressed, what does it mean, is there a message in all of this. Solomon read the story of old, how they harped on, about the unseen power, and the threat that existed, when we took it to be ourselves, our existence. The child sighs, the mother holds the hand tighter, she is nervous, they can’t escape to the country, it’s closing down. The knock on the door, the rattle of guns, the panic inside, everyone tries to hide and run, is this the end, the sighs, the nods, open up, the scream, the door comes in, boots on the stairs, it sounds like a Spielberg movie, only it’s real.

Solomon was applying the thought of the dramatic to the current chaos. In olden times, old stories, we get reminders, the ways of the oppressors, and what it usually means, are these those times, and what about the end, the light, there is always light. The Hope arrives, every civilization has the same story, the voice, the giant, the helper, who teaches the new generation, how to sustain life, the qualities needed, compassion, being aware, doing what is life giving, without trying to take over the world. In the papers he read the story of the Nuclear Space, the effort to control the world where the satellites roamed, the great new war field of the future, the destruction of our means of global communication, does this sound like today, are we being warned, the new direction, an easy way to teach us perhaps, this way of life can’t sustain itself, we better try another, just an idea…Solomon smiled, He always sends the Helper, hang on.

It’s Impossible….

Where does your light come from, how were miracles made happen, why do you pray, why are we here, the questions we ask, the days of old, young minds no baggage, the days continue, the accumulation of experiences, the collection of opinions, the rules you set for yourself,  the breakdown of society, the retreat, how is it happening, where have our leaders gone, where is the voice of calm, is it everyone for himself.

Solomon was listening to the vibrations, the shock waves, news, more news, the revelations, the feeling in many hearts, nothing like this has happened before, how is it possible, it can’t be real. Then he imagined the days of Jesus, the first time around, when concerned persons, the local authorities of the times, the Jewish leaders, called to see his mother and family, and wondered, “He has lost his mind, he is possessed by demons, he needs help, will you go and see him!”

So there you have Jesus in a room, with some friends, and those seeking healing and consolation, listening to what he has to say, a sense of wonder on their faces, in awe at the prospect, this is real. A pharisee comes in, your mother and family are outside, they need to talk to you. Then Jesus turns to those in the room, and explains to them, who is your Family.

It’s not easy following in the ways of the “Holy Spirit”, when the world around you is devoted to power and the material. There are many who will try to talk you out of your faith. In these times of much confusion and fear, its easy to retreat to the safety of numbers, in among-st the crowd, where you wont stand out. Hold to your faith, trust in God, was the message given all those years ago, the same applies today. The Demons have no power when it comes to the Power of the Holy Spirit. Let it flow, amen, let love escape from inside you. Jesus performed miracles in order to give confidence to those who had any doubts, amen. God lives inside you, don’t have any fears about it.

Who Do You Recall…..

What dents the heart, who is that wakes you up, what is it that reminds, Solomon was reflecting; the fast life, goes by in a whir, like speeding down the motor way, it’s a blur, you see nothing but think your going places, all you have in mind, the journeys end, not the wave of experiences, it’s so easy to forget life, or what you are supposed to be. He read the story of the carbon footprint, the legacy of your life in pollution terms, what a concept, how about turning the argument around, the impact you made in other lives, much more soothing, and thought provoking, the report that gets you a pass where it counts, not a long list of the negatives.

She is a busy modern woman, has success on a plate, lets the children out, to be reared by others, same as many stuffed to the gills with success on their mind. Years later,she has a distant relationship with them, and wonders why. Solomon was in the temple, had thoughts of old friends on his mind. It wasn’t bad, there were great moments, he had a few he held tight to, and then he thought of the little pal, the child who saved the world, well, the boy assisted him, and humbled him with raw honesty, made more of an impact than most, had a working heart. Then he recalled the cynics, the leave it to others brigade, he could hardly remember anything about them, seriously. So there he was praying for them all, he hoped the cold hearted woke up, before it was too late. Those who love won all the awards in his book.

After The Virus

New friendships made, stubborn chat between arch enemies, no escaping the facts, the virus was more than biological change, the social network was changing, how we had the chance to look at ourselves anew, perhaps ask questions for the first time ever, questioning what went on unnoticed, Mary sits at her table, doing the math of the era. In the writer’s manual they said that all the great writers made themselves known, in times of crisis, study the literature, what came out of depression, the artists who didn’t suffer a personal agony of some type, out of difficulty we often find ourselves again? All this change has to be incorporated into her book, all relationships appear to alter as, she pauses, he is moving around again upstairs, she no longer sneers, hoping to hear him fall.

Relationships change, she is getting selfish, it’s about time, and I’m not getting younger she reminds herself, even if she looks and feels ten years younger since the virus precautions came into existence, everyone looks better, hard to believe it, to be young is a matter of less stress, she recalls passing the new head shop, she used to have names for the place, now she wonders if she will try the new form of marijuana once this thing is over; Hollywood names seem to approve it, and she really trusts some of the names.

What do I miss without being too personal she thinks? She dallies with her talisman, a real led pencil, she can’t imagine a writer’s desk without one, a thin red pencil with a rubber on one end, correcting the script at least. Is it the lack of shopping, is it the lack of fear of having visitors, the need to be more focussed on self cleaning rather than the furnishings, she smiles, bathing in the full bath is way beyond the shower and the new go thing, no fun in that sort of scrub when in the shower, baths for the future , no other way, her skin is softer too, and the odours are all sweet, as if a small change in the washing habit is the same as the slow un buckling of a fragrant rose, cleaner the air, clearer the fragrance, same could be said about the other, she looks forlornly at the ceiling, Excited by dirt, she has many ways of saying it, but the virus is bringing out the imagination. Was it the worry, she doesn’t want to think that, she forgave him during her walk, not that she’d allow him near her, the six foot rule, that she can handle, does it apply to indoors, it should she says, talking to the pencil in her hand, she, it has to be a female pen, it’s not chewed up, nice and thin, and it works for real when it has to, it must be a female pencil.

The Residue

Leftovers on the table, he eyes the last two roast potatoes, if they are all ignoring it, that means none of them wants it, they taste great, he scans the plates on either side, all he can see is the conversations going on, the lick of gravy on the side of the mouth, clean it will you, it’s sticking out, across the table, a fork in the air, moving left and right, almost with the skill of an orchestral director, still he has his eyes on the prize, those last two golden crisp potatoes. Will I be brave and reach out.

What are you waiting for William she says, catching his eye, he dips his head, a smile on his face, he slowly reaches in, got you he thinks, he has one of the potatoes on the big spoon, he is moving it carefully to his docking station, his plate. No one said a thing, will he be brave enough to take the other, go for it he tells himself. Eight years old, it’s awhile before you learn about the etiquette of eating in a group. She gives him a re assuring nod, the second potato is on the spoon. You are not eating both of them another diner calls out, as he drops it onto the messiest part of the plate, where old flecks of gravy and a white sauce have mixed into a brown mulch, he does it deliberately, no one will ask for the potato back now, too late, all that residue.

Solomon sighed, we learn hopefully, we lean on the past, we see how nationalism becomes a movement of hatred, the wars across the world, home led, the same causes, repeated again and again, too much power in the same closet, time to get angry, time to get rich, we will sort them boy. The world had enough of all that argument, it was well past it’s sell by date, same as those religions, who intentionally miss quoted the old words, in order to divide opinion, and what was their residue; the incitement of hatred.

Surely they believe in God he hoped, and as such, put their efforts into rising spirits, rather than renovating old organisations.

Flying Spirit

Te Amo, she turns her head, she hasn’t heard that in awhile, she’s a migrant worker, and an illegal, she is waitressing,  the cook is flirting with her again, she smiles. Meanwhile there are three tables that need to be cleared and three other girls like her, vulnerable, waiting to take her job, no slip ups. She passes a table, two men in suits, are they immigration, she pretends not to look, we ordered two coffee’s one says. She nods, rushes to the table, her eye on the two men, are they there to spy on her. Being an illegal is hard work, she has moved every six months, trying to keep ahead of the posse. She possess’s a secret, one she can’t explain, not in the normal meaning of the word; she carries the Holy Spirit inside her. Remain calm, she repeats this to herself daily, evening, before sleep, calm, you live inside me she explains. It’s as if she carries a special child inside her.

Our coffee, she passes the table, makes a nod, coming she says. It’s lunchtime, the busy period, but she doesn’t mind, there are other young girls like her, who are not that lucky. One of them dances the tables, and smiles at leering men all day, it’s a job, provides shelter, things can get worse.

She fills the cups, makes for the two men, sorry she says, setting  down the two cups. His jacket slides to the side, as if he is reaching for something, she spots the handle of a gun, law enforcement he says, sorry if I upset you, she smiles nervously. He nods. He wears a brown belt, he fingers the clasp, a sign, they are on my side, she sighs…..

2020 What will you do different?

Two old Spirits, they hover around a table, invisible to those dining outside. They hear the conversations going, they are listening to the reality of peoples lives, trying to decide on what direction the planet is going; they are after all connected to the Eternal being. How do change things without upsetting anybody, it’s the crunch question. The abyss moment has been by passed, there is another opportunity for the human race, the demon Spirit has lost its hold on many lives, the internal changes are heading in the right direction , for the first time in a century. Our two old Spirits have been roaming the world; they are looking for the preferred model upon which to base the regeneration of the race; it’s the moment of the eternal bounty.

Balance, says the younger of the two spirits, balance. The older Spirit moves over to a table, a young child is playing with the salt and pepper, while the Mother reads the daily paper, not too fussed. The child is making a little bit of a mess, nothing that a single wipe of a tissue can’t fix, no trouble. The elder Spirit smiles, is back with his co spirit.

You were saying, balance, wasn’t that it.

The younger Spirit sighs, you always say that, why is that?

What!

You pretend you don’t hear then you repeat the question, that’s so infuriating!

Sorry, old teacher habit, I told that years ago, you never listen.

We’ve been arguing like this for centuries, where did that get us?

Can’t you focus anymore says the elder Spirit?

There is so much hyper activity going on.

There is always a lot of brain wave activity going on, it’s the human pulse at work. Unknown to the human race, the energy that is created has to go somewhere, it’s the same as your sex drive, it’s all about energy.

So what would you change asks the Younger Spirit, back in the zone….

Don’t you think they have over done the me thing this last fifty years, you know, it’s all about me stuff, when that gets into your head, it’s hard to realize the compassion you need, to read the signs calmly, this over dramatization is doing the heads in.

I’m 100% with you on that one!