Mess Up for Heaven’s Sake

She is an addicted cleaner, she spots dirt, she blows a fuse, her temperature rises, it’s as if she has spotted a demon, out comes the chemical rescue, a squirt here and there, got ya she smiles, while killing anything organic nearby, will you leave me in peace he says, she has the brush under his feet, he is trying to watch TV. She doesn’t listen, this has been the way for years. Solomon sighed, those were the days, a memory that makes him laugh, it wasn’t anything to be shy about.

Being an educator, you can’t make a cake without creating a mess, same way you can’t teach a child without getting upset, difference is, what comes out of the oven. The boy is small, a learner, just imitates and wants to get on with life, pulls a chair to the sink, playing with water, everyone small loves it, the splash and the mess. Roll up your sleeves, the boy turns his head, will you shut up he says, there is a smile on his face,  i said roll up your sleeves, I don’t do laundry.

The mess continues, there is water on the floor, there is water everywhere, are you finished yet, the child is washing the dishes, placing them on the side, Solomon is watching carefully, doesn’t want the kid to slip, eventually, eventually, the wash up is done, it’s time to negotiate. The dinner is always a task, how do you get them to eat healthy, do you remember the wash up he says, the child nods, doesn’t notice the spoon in the air, open up, the boy opens his mouth, another mouthful gone.

Mess up for heaven’s sake, there is bargaining power in it, it’s not just mess, it’s real learning. The mothers look at Solomon, what do you know about feeding children, he sighs, there is a cake on the table, he reaches for it, not before you have eaten your dinner they say, i suppose.

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Blocked

no new ideas, stuck, nothing fresh going on, got a habit that I hate, got a cat that shits a lot, man does that need cleaning up, blocked, I hope you don’t upset the cat. He pressed the button, the machine, it produced a rhythm, a beat, he put a few lyrics over it, adjusted the volume, played them low played them high, a bit like a lotto player, fancy word for a gamble, how he frame words, sounds better, compulsive deniers, when we don’t like the news, we turn it off, the head can only hold so much. Imagine it, the stuff the head has to hoard, the so called important stuff, the stuff going back years. Unless it’s the heart, why would it be important?

Will someone do the laundry!, everything is dirty…

Lessons in life, mother teaches her son, he is on his way to college, don’t forget to have clean clothes, she reminds him and reminds him, child is on overnight, mother’s first concern, cleanliness, doesn’t want to hear anything bad, you have to do the laundry, well, why does every mother and others, spend a little of their day, cleaning up. Too simple, so were the parables of Jesus, stories and lessons in one, a good movie, same as those Clint movies, dirty harry etc….

Eastwood that is, lessons in life, and if they are entertaining, all the better, they will get our attention and are more likely to stay in our heads, longer than mere facts.

Solomon was commenting on the wisdom of Jesus, and how simple he made things. He had a Spirit inside him that cut to the heart, his words literally pierced your insides. In the world of judgement’s, the analysis of a life, the juries getting heat, the newspapers are getting print, the spin experts getting heard, the machine of news runs and runs, they never run out of ink, till the eyes start to look elsewhere. In the meantime, they dig up corpses to grab your attention, tossing the worst dressed excess at you, hoping to appeal to your inner sensitivity, well, to say you didn’t listen, is almost as bad as what was wrote, guilt rises, you have to have an opinion.

Surprisingly, if they don’t have a near by victim to pin the accusations on, they don’t bother to write about the issue at all. Well, say it as it should, and one day you will get to the truth, the real truth, not the abridged version.

Jesus stands in the square, the crowd gathers, blood is going to be spilled, the woman is tied to a post, bunches of rocks are gathered, ancient Jewish text says this is the applied punishment for adultery. The men in long beards are ready, the Pharisee is about to read a prayer before they rain down rocks on her, their Judgement in, mothers bring their daughters, just to warn them, this is the result of breaking the law, watch it girls. The woman who is judged, head down, waits for the first blow, then she feels a soft hand on her head, she looks up, meets a pair of compassionate eyes, eyes that don’t judge, they understand. He turns to the crowd, waiting for the game to start, his eyes scan the crowd, going face to face, inside they feel the power of the gaze, as the stuff they have been hiding comes to the surface. The conceited pharisee, who is about to give voice to the lords decree, as per the scriptures, feels angst inside, as his own guilt surfaces. Then Jesus asked,

“who here isn’t got dirty laundry somewhere, well, get on with it!”

Solomon imagined the great drama, Jesus on his knees, his finger writing in the sand, then wiping the words away, as if he had come to bring light to the words of God, by wiping the teaching of men from the minds of all. Well….

Diary of a Friend

You don’t have to mind your words, you can stand on each others toes, say what is on your mind, and be what you are. In the real time world, where spin is the order of the day, how often to we have full on straight conversations, unsure uncertain do I sound all right, challenged you can’t handle that, then you encounter a friend, not a stranger you will never meet again, I never knew you loved cold potatoes, the stuff you can say, the openness of the heart and the flow, the same as a good tune that rolls across your head, the head bobs the face slides the beat goes on, that’s how real friendship grows.

Solomon sighed, an old friend, not too well, haggard at times and getting to the end of the journey, they meet in a place where the elderly live, there isn’t much life apart from the care, and if you have a working mind it can get very tough, the inability to express yourself fully, the nods and the sighs as you try to be polite and not offend. Well, Solomon caught the manual and threw it out of the window, started shooting from the hip and saw the Spirit in the room light up. In the company of a friend, isn’t that the way it ought to be.

She hears the car in the drive, checks the watch, where was he as this hour, she is going to check for the signs, a fresh perfume, hairs on his collar, the look in his eye, she braces herself. The door opens, he is wearing a big smile, and has a bunch of flowers in his hand, for you dear love he says, have you been crying he says, with deep concern when he see hers…

When trust is gone, it leaves a tragedy behind.

The Reason You Exist! TRYE…

TRYE, the reason you exist, big question, I haven’t time for this, I have a plane to catch, the speech is half prepared, and the babysitter is late, I know why i exist, will someone find me a nappy, Jesus, can babies shit, where are the wipes, damn it, those creams are so sticky, on my god, someone has dropped the nappy on my speech, please stop crying, the reason I exist, how the hell am i supposed to know this, I will deal with it later.

Pouring over the speech, worried about delivery, the pause, you have to get it right, like a catwalk model who know’s how to pose, timing, it’s important just to pause at the right moment. Tipexed out, you pass the splotched paper to your assistant, she will even wash your dirty underwear, and your smelly socks, she depends on you for her living, and the ball of cash, a dependent of sorts, you can’t exist without each other.

Eight in the evening, and you return home, exhausted, you fall onto the couch, the baby sitter smiles, baby ate and slept well, you sigh, i can deal with that, one of these days baby will be going to school, and you will smile, cause you were responsible for getting her that far, well, you and the babysitter, why do I exist you ask. You climb the stairs to the bedroom, you feel your chest tighten, panic hits you, is this the moment, when you won’t exist.

The hospital is bright, your helpless, wires stick you, and machines all around you, suddenly, all you can think of, why have I been doing all this. You realize your an egotistical smile, the money you made will never be spent, and the friends you have, are not friends ,just acquaintances, the only thing you have in common, wealth, and there is no feeling in that, unless your making plenty and getting high on the buzz. Why do I exist, the question runs through your head, the doubts that can’t be hidden by a busy routine.

You exist to overcome the material, in favor of Spirit, for how can it fly, if it’s burdened by what is temporary, amen, how can you pass it on!.

In Too Deep

The Emperor is behind the golden gates, the followers come to his door, with a special knock they are admitted, rich and very rich every single one. The child’s story of old, he is naked, he doesn’t have a clue, what are you doing it for, did you not see the signs from above. Move, 2,000 odd years later, the President, yes, Donald and his collection, a bag of mixed messages, everyone telling him how great he is, the cheeky smirks, the odd friends, well, when your in the Klan, well, when you believe in, when your in too deep, it’s hard to back out.

Billionaire understands how the ordinary man feels, touching, understands they are pissed off, understands how to get under their skin, meets those who use the ordinary man, his complaints and anxieties, can achieve real popularity, the more he upsets them, and they have real true blue family virtues, You understand us sir, the ego smiles, nice looking daughter over there, word gets around, he is one of our own. Extreme religious get in on the act, they can pinpoint the trouble spots, where can you upset them, Sir, they will be eating out of your hand.

Meanwhile, back at the Golden Gates, they crowd around, attention, what is going to happen next, there is big bucks in knowing that stuff, unhinging an economy can be a downward spiral for its’ currency, opportunity, the greed factor, this is business at the nuclear level, never had to word hard, easier that shooting bears in a barrel. In too deep, the same with the abuse of the Internet, when it reaches children, it’s a step too far.

Solomon sighed, then he smiled, well, it works. Turn them into babbling fools and let the world see them for what they are, exploiters of people, amen.

The Heart Inside You and Senator John McCain………

Imagine it, all those billions of hearts out there, full of stuff, many of them bypassed, surgically too, but imagine it, the size of your heart, and what is stored in there, what is it, that makes you use it, the heart, rather than heading for the mind, and all the stuff you have in that, the temporary and the permanent. If your unsure where this is going, just listen.

Imagine, if your heart is a reservoir, a clean place, healthy, imagine other people using it, well, the more you use it, the more others can use it, the heart. Imagine, new hearts, beginning the journey, seeking other hearts, where they can visit for awhile. Some of them blocked of course, where there is no access, others open, where there is plenty of traffic.

Imagine a load of children, bright eyed and hopeful, plants waiting for the sun to shine or the rains, seeking nourishment; for that is what your heart is, a source of nourishment, it fills the world with good thoughts, that is the heart inside you, amen.

Solomon had a dream, a real dream, and it surprised him greatly, not that he was surprised that he dreamed, it was a occupational hazard. In the dream, he is on a journey, and with healing in mind, he comes to the end of the Journey, and he meets his guest, a man who lived a very good life, a brave man, a man who spoke up. The man is John McCain, the recently departed United States Senator, this is all real, keep on reading, and pass it on, this in not a made up story. In the story an RV pulls out, out steps Senator McCain, they embrace. In the dream, a burst of bright light so intense bursts from them, as they embrace, as if Solomon and the Senator are meeting, to welcome the Senator Home, all traces of illness gone, the brave soldier has come home. Spirit heals, Solomon is certain of this, and so is the dream. A few hours later, Solomon turns on the radio, and hears the news, Senator McCain has passed on; who can doubt the existence of the after life, the story is 100% real. Good news for Monday, and a peaceful rest for the departed Soldier, amen.