Old Time

The do’s and the don’ts, the rule book was pretty well defined, the rural and the country, those street savvy, those country wise, how the townies looked down on the country cousin, so unsophisticated, behind in the trends, from the backwater dear, what do you expect, they haven’t seen a barber in years, and they come to shop twice a year. The movement of people, the slide to the city, adoption of city life, neighbors, you get to know them, you form your community, usually same culture, ethnic or otherwise, a few bad experiences you hear about, the move to the ghetto, the commencement of a life, that builds barriers around you, well, she doesn’t look like us, he has strange ways, but at least there is safety in numbers.

Solomon was looking back, finding as point in time, what it was like to be a child, the expectations and the guidelines, the do’s and the don’t’s, had all that much changed. The gap of poverty was huge, insurmountable almost, women calling to the door, alms given, see you next week missus, the fear of crime, what you might read in a newspaper. TV time, never allowed to watch anything after 11, adult time, no exceptions, you don’t want to be bamboozling the heads, they will learn soon enough for themselves. Anyone encouraging a lapse into easy living, looked at, every negative influence looked down on.

That old pace of life, a pace so many long for now in this busy time. It wasn’t impossible, just a little planning. As for influences in our lives though, were we loosing that neighbor hood bit, as the new neighborhood was a long way from the street or road you lived on. Whatever the changes, God is the same all the time.

Christmas Party

Dress for affect, it’s not everyday the boss gets drunk, the ideas that go around the heads when booze celebration and Christmas merge, and the ideas are a long way from the memory, of Jesus. Ungainly at times, the number of affairs that start during the holiday party, the marriages that fall to the floor, the opportunity to make amends with an employee you want to thank personally, the Christmas party is one of those events.

Solomon sighed, the giving part of the season was on the radio, the call for help, the multiple organisations doing their job, canvassing for help, using the giving season to ramp up the coffers, Solomon sighed, there has to be an easier way. There is an awful lot of dread in the world at any given time, too much for most minds, but they exist, you wonder why, ask the polar bear on his last lump if ice, when will he jump and go where, well, sounds like the immigration trail.

Meanwhile at the office party, they gather, the doctor offers the usual warnings, flying hormones, hard work, the need to let the rocks flow, the normality of it all, when you close up inside., the fear of those easily passed on diseases, it’s quite a list.

There is an easier way He sighed; raise the Spirit of Well being, remind oneself of the great interventions, the rapid changes in so short a space of time, even the four seasons in one day, enough to remind yourself, there is a Heaven above. Solomon wondered why there wasn’t more of an effort to celebrate the Greatest Party of all, in the way the three wise men intended, amen.

 

 

Khensur Rinpoche: The Meaning of Life… and our “Buddha” mind — Excellence Reporter… re blog, Wisdom to start the week with…..

Quote

Excellence Reporter: Rinpoche, what is the meaning of life? Or the purpose of life if you will? Khensur Rinpoche: Most all of us fall into the trap of believing, at one point or another, that amassing wealth, fame, power, friendships, and even happiness itself is the purpose of life. Of course, these things can, and […]

via Khensur Rinpoche: The Meaning of Life… and our “Buddha” mind — Excellence Reporter

Woman Eyes Man….

It’s a different world, those in total power don’t feel so total anymore, they don’t eye up the girls as they used to, not in the workplace. Images, in the head, what is lying in the head, do they measure the size of your butt as well. She walks down the boulevard, she is no nonsense, she eyes two men coming her way, she throws a glance at them, they turn their heads to the side, avoiding her stare, what are you looking at she says under her breath. That is more like it, she walks on, her stride is purposeful, no goofball here she says, even if she sometimes wears a tin pot over her head, but that’s private.

She loves animals, adores cats, adores all living creatures, she is a Spirit straight from the cookbook of mother nature, well, she enjoys clean water, the outdoor life, clean crisp air, doesn’t mind getting dirty, she just enjoys being well. It started at school, she had a dream. She wasn’t the class A girl, she sat at the rear, did enough to get by, not much else, she wanted to figure it out for herself. Was not going to be bullied, had seen too much of it, even the nuns were in awe of the priest, too much so.

Years later she is on the journey, she is a wisdom seeker, she follows a trail, there is a voice she hears, it seems to fit her well, it allows her to relax, she can be silly, it’s all right to be a little crazy, who doesn’t need to unwind. The voice is what matters she tells herself. She arrives in the town, she has done research, she is getting close, even the weather is improving, it used to rain all the time, not so much now they tell her. Frequency survivor she calls herself, the air is so full, the information moving seamlessly and what it’s doing to animals, mother nature, those that are sensitive, are all being harmed by this world that revolves around invisible rays. But she is hopeful, the news from on High, points to an Earth that appears to be recharging itself, so the vibrations say, has it anything to do with the voice. She is on a walkabout, there is a cafe in the dream, she saw it clearly, saw the signpost, she spots it on a side street, I’m here.

In a matter of seconds she begins to relax, will I recognize him she wonders. Eggs with a slice of spinach across and coffee black he says while at the front desk, the voice, was it the rhythm of the words, she sits up. If only she could be certain. Woman eyes man….the story continues….

Solomon smiled, it was a great story, and while there is so much that is wrong, it’s not impossible, the problem being, so many were being lured to different paths, their anxieties forcing them to take a position. He loved animals too, and the whole outdoor life, but real change to occur, required a new heart on the inside, the transformation. There were also those who tried to help the situation, those sensitive to thought, along with the coterie of those, who wanted things to remain the same while getting well paid for obstructing the lives of real Spirit, our ability to contact with the divine. Solomon sighed, why worry about it, He encountered the Great Spirit, and received blessings, saw the results when the Spirit was being passed out, the real time changes. So you want to change the world; It’s simply this, pass the loving Spirit on, let God take care of the rest, amen.

Can You Hear The Voice….

Beauty hides in the most strangest places, the stuff we surround the head with, the mental picture of the vision we see, the other stuff you learned, well, you thought you knew, the idea of that face producing a sound like that, isn’t that the same way we see a bird, we don’t consider the feathers or how green red or blue it looks, those thoughts are not in your head, your looking at nature, your not trying to analyse it, it’s there, it exists, it’s something you want to listen to, just the voice, it catches our ear, connects with a peace inside us.

The picture in our heads, how we zone in with the eyes, can it be for real, the sweet noise, the picture, what, the voice and sight does not register, it’s the way we see it, the stuff we learned, so this is what we think. Solomon was listening to the voice, the noise was sweet, but the presentation wasn’t exactly great, not what he was used to. The simplicity, it was as if another lesson was learned, how we assume that which we do not understand, can produce such a noise. He recalled the news of the singer on stage, the voice, then the source of the noise, out of reach mentally, not the picture we had of the voice. Is this how those with sight loss see it, with a different sense, or was that How God inside us saw it, amen. We seem so regulated internally, as if we don’t believe it, where did the voice come from after all…

Happiness and Leonard Cohen

Life can be an exhaustive journey, a woman standing on the side of a river, about to enter a boat, freedom on the other side, I suppose if we are honest, we are all that female refugee, the same way, Jesus was a refugee from the authorities of his time, seeking freedom for the people of God, who were being misled, the teaching too complicated, the weight on the shoulders of the believer, same as that woman, leaving her life behind her, for a better one ahead. Life is the story of deliverance, if you want to call it that; there are those who want to help the pilgrims, and…..

those waiting to rob them. On the journey we take along consolation, pictures or letter, reminders of safer times perhaps, comfort. Jesus brought news of our divine nature; told us we that we were all gods, we just had to believe.

Solomon sighed, he was celebrating the festival of booths, call it deliverance, it’s not the brand of your religion that matters, its how you are with others. All stories of help, come with a happy ending, on this day many have been delivered, and so Had Solomon, and Leonard Cohen, great company for all when times were difficult, amen.

 

Our World

We are the tenants in this world, the means for gathering we have been given, in our race to success, we tampered with the mixture, added chemicals to hurry the growth, we hurried to progress without thought of consequence, left our mistakes to the next generation, not that we planned it, we just hoped. Addiction to the material brought us to the brink, there is a limit, but when there is no water to drink, as they say, the options become limited, and in our efforts to distract others from our faults, we started wars to rally support for our schemes. If this sounds like an apology, I sure hope this is what you assume, how can we plead for mercy if we are not contrite and real. There are many flowers in the garden, multi colored, all races, all different sizes of fields, the reality of the words of Jesus, we are called to be Samaritans not judges, as some try to believe. There are no favorites, everyone is treated the same, we are compassion, we are love, we are charitable, if we truly believe. We are the tenants in that old parable, this you must believe.

Solomon was listening to the words of a far off preacher, a man of Godly esteem was having a final goodbye, he saw the crowd, many of them celebrities, and these are the thoughts he had. As Ezra says; when the day comes and you must face the judgement, you will only have your deeds and what comes out of your mouth to defend you, amen.

Memory Issues…

 

Living in a world, that is full of memory, and then the large number of people, loosing their memory at the same time, and what is a memory; is it the once clean ocean, is it the clean social environment, is it the gap between the poor and the rich, is it the fifty million who lost their lives in the last war, is it the waiting list for the vital surgery, is it the tear filled ballad sung from the heart, that went to number one, and made the ego jump to new heights, memory issues, 23 trillion off shore and counting, we have a dire shortage of cash, we haven’t this and that, we used to have clean water on tap, we used to have men and women who loved romance, now we breed addicts and find ways to trap them, there are lots of memory issues.

Solomon sighed, the changing times would help with the memory issues. The memory of Jesus and his miracles, The sacrifice of those who gave up their ego’s for God’s world to come, Yusuf Islam, Cat Stevens….

yes, there are those who can make the leap, there are some great souls left.

We are all refugees

 

Treat us well, nothing gracious, just be gentle, don’t look down on me, so I am a refugee, tired and tortured, have you any idea, what a welcome means, a wide eyed smile, not the stare of suspicion, had enough of those, in my shoes you have a different view, pushed about, moved on, unwanted, voiceless, those who speak up for us, ready, the cameras, the sixty seconds of hope, someone might care about us, those protests, don’t know where to turn, just want to put the head down, can’t return, what is there left, we put faith in it, trusted above, go and find, maybe that is the welcome, the real presence of God, not the words, maybe we are walking faith, ever think of that, hardly, you remind me of my family, all you do is count the cost, isn’t everyone doing it, ignoring the blessings, what a possibility, what economist can value that, Solomon sighed, he understood the plight of the refugee, there had been many exodus’s over time, he thought of the actions of certain leaders, how their actions lifted, did the impossible, and those not so good at leading, but using the word of God, he wondered at their fate, in a time of change, the outcomes weren’t too hard to figure out, if you know what I Mean? History and the exodus were we being tested.

 

So many parallels, as if history had been compressed in a few lives, the movements,

Breakfast Feast

I’m hungry, she is tired of hearing those words, she is a mile from the white house, roaming the streets of the most powerful city in the world, she is not alone. Downtown, they pour over dishes their lobbyists pay for, while the shelters turn people away. They have eyes but can’t see, is there a message in that, they wont attend a meeting either unless they get paid expenses. I’m hungry he says again, she feels the change in her pocket, soon she says.

Solomon sighed, a deep heart felt sigh, the love connects the light shines, the words of Jesus are made real; allow God to reside inside you and transform your life, it’s that simple.

She gets a seat in a side cafe, it’s Irish owned, the manager is an Irish Emigrant woman, she serves the biggest breakfasts in town. From the counter she watches the eyes of the small one, how he watches the tray laden with food for another table pass close by. His eyes widen, a little hopeful smile appears, i’ll be having that soon. Her heart breaks each time she see’s that expression on a small face, hoping. As for the loud mouth campaigners, they make the noise and then hide behind their private gates; do they say such words of thoughtfulness just to antagonize us all. Mary is practical; hunger can’t wait. if only one of them.. if only one had the courage of their words, some day, some day she hopes.