Those Old Wars

A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.

I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.

Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.

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Dancing Girl

What is the purpose of my life, the dancing queen is tired, the rehearsals are tedious, getting ready for another show, life is getting her down, her ankle hurts and the chorus of dancers are out of rhythm, is it her calm, she is stressed, is it for the money, or is there a greater purpose, why am I doing this, it’s a question all the great artists ask themselves, am I relevant anymore.

She shouts stop, they all become statues, what is wrong, they are afraid to look her in the eye, is that the reaction you wants she says to herself, is it because I’m a tyrant, a bully in charge, or am I loosing my self. Do I need a new direction, something fresh to encourage me along. They look at her, seeking guidance, she could be having a breakdown, perhaps I AM DOING TOO MUCH, and need to take a rest, she does not think it, it’s what is on their mind.

Solomon sighed, many lives suffer the burn out, and when they don’t take a seat, they end up getting into all sorts of ugly stuff. He has seen it happen to those who over work, a good nights sleep without medication, a miracle for some, he smiles, the duvet and the pillow has always been his friend. He learned young, to have energy and verve, you need to pace yourself, rest in between the moments and you will be grand. Don’t let the mind fool you, there are demons who will tell you what you want to hear. Even the Greatest Spiritual leader of all time, teacher, Jesus, had to get away from the disciples regularly, the body needs rest and the minds needs to put down all it has inside it.

Solomon learned the lesson a long time ago, a close friend, the afternoon rest, the energy that seemed everlasting to well into the eighties, all because she knew how to rest. In the busy world, so many had to go full throttle, afraid of loosing their position, living in fear, while in positions of authority even. The Spirit needs rest, and space to regroup, and in a busy world, that was becoming more difficult. Put it in words he smiled, and it will become a tool for someone else, amen. Turn the extremists into babbling fools Dear Father, and when they try to make life difficult for your people, remind them, the love is in charge, amen.

Children’s Day

Mother’s day, women’s day, father’s day, international this day, international that,. this the other, postcards, preparations, the party afterwards, the novelties, the protests, the speakers, the conference, the global speeches, what a load of what, you ask?

The old musketeers, this is old France, the sun king, the belief in the wonders of God, the upstairs and downstairs attitude, those that exceeded their power, loosing their heads, in every way imaginable, you can’t abuse power and get away with it, have all the tyranny you want, but you are not going to get away with it, there are those who will ensure that, there are those who know what is divine.

Solomon sighed, he saw the attitude on the faces, the lives that jumped forward to another time, saw the breakdown in society, the denial of children, of a healthy living world, then passing on the news to their counterparts of old, the car exchanged for a horse, the law replaced by a sword. This is worth fighting for they say. The roots of our problem sown in the past.

Children’s day, not a roll out of all the great advantages that we fill our selves with, feel good is great, they felt the same way on the Titanic, we are all going on a holiday. All the stress that is created, the effort to focus on the lower regions, its’ very pleasurable they say, but there is time, let us grow up first.

What would they think, those who went before us, not the closed minded, but those who were enlightened, and there are many Spirits, watching our progress, even today, wondering what we are going to do next. Are we going to ruin it for everyone, or do something good. Thoughts for a Monday.

Men and Women, who else is there to blame!

Ma, why are they always fighting, they claim to believe in Jesus, God, The angels, and they hold bibles and holy books in their hands, I don’t understand it, Ma is at the table making a cake, she is taking a fistful of white dusty stuff, flour I suppose, she puts her hand into a big bag and extracts a white load, white stuff spatters everywhere. Ma, why don’t you use a measuring scales, how do you know there is enough?. Ma smiles, what a bright child, always asking children, just as she reared them. If you don’t know something, open your mouth and say it, wise advice for any mother or father.

Ma is a dab hand at baking, she can do it in her sleep, and she always gets them right, her cakes famous all over the world, even some leading members of the country have enjoyed her cooking. Ma, why are they always fighting, I don’t understand it says the little girl, who is reading her book at a side table, while watching her Ma put the ingredients together. She wonders how ma gets it right, she doesn’t use scales, dips her finger in the baking powder, a pinch of salt, a splatter of eggs, a whisk around, a grease proof sheet, a flat pan, and an hour later, a Swiss roll, so darn easy. How does Ma do it. she listens to her Ma, always has.

Ma bends, slides the baking tray into the hot over, then begins the clean up. You want me to help, asks the little girl. Put on an apron first says Ma,

I don’t want you messing yourself. The little girl takes the drying cloth, ready for the wets ma will soon supply.

Why are they always fighting Ma?. Ma sighs, she has let the question sink in, as she dips her hands into her own sink of dirty dishes. It’s important not to sell propaganda to Children. Ma knows the little girl will believe her when she answers her. Ma has seen the religious networks favor their own, has seen the harm they caused, by not listening to each other, always ready to believe the very worst, then passing it on, poisoning children and minds, creating division, when reaching out and listening, as Jesus said, was the answer.

Little girl she says, you are young, there is a lot to learn. I haven’t got the answer to your question, but I fully understand. The little girl is surprised at Ma, she usually has the answer to everything, she is also in awe of her own questioning attitude, this she has just learned. The little girl continues to dry the dishes, thinking to herself, Ma doesn’t have the answer to everything, somethings she has to learn for herself, amen.

The dishes are washed and put away, the kitchen counter is clean, as it was before they started, ready for the evening meal. Ma, the little girl asks, she is in a very inquisitive mood, are there other questions Ma doesn’t know. Children love to learn. Getting addicted to machines and online stuff is not the stuff they were born with. Ma, why is there so much of the man and woman stuff on the internet, you know, the child lowers her eyes, you know what I am saying, the mother coughs, this is not the question she expected. How do you explain to the child, the interest in all things adult, how do you answer that.

You will have to ask men and women is what she wants to say, but she defers, the little girl is too young for that.

Migrant Mary

The tent leaks, it’s cold, but there is a TV, she is watching CNN, the debate is very personal, they are talking about the “Wall”, the door is closed to her and many like her, Dear God she says, is this always going to be their way. For cash they will allow the “dreamers” stay on, what sort of thinking is that, to build a wall, everyone knows you can cross any border these days. Mary is not your ordinary migrant, well, no migrant is ordinary, they take extraordinary chances to create a life, and they do. Miguel comes into the tent, her seven year old son, what are you looking at Mam, they are discussing us she says, his eyes light up, you mean we are going to be famous, he gets excited inside, everyone wants to be famous these days, including, seven year old Miguel.

The diseases have eased since the red cross doctors arrived, but the food is staple, porridge with lots of vitamin, meanwhile, the leaders of Davos, sit down to an eight course meal. There is a flash from the cameras, looks delish says Miguel, he is fed up with the bland food, and used to doing without. What are they discussing he says, he’s a smart child, can ask the right question at the right time, will make a good job when he grows up, if allowed, the other options don’t augur well, he is smart, and that is not something to be wasted. You don’t want him becoming a terrorist.

A teacher in her homeland, a number now, counted with millions of others on the move across the globe, when your without and you don’t have an address, there are few who take you seriously.

Solomon sighed, when will they apply the wisdom and teaching of old, all those old gitters are going to face the eternal judge, for real, they will all have to account for themselves, with all their educations and those expensive schools, you’d have thought they might have learned, have they not seen the signs in the Sky, should have gone to the opticians sooner I suppose. A war was raging, the old time nationalists wanted to turn back time, problem was mother nature was weaker, and they were all being used by the new world extremists. At least after all the troubles of the past, the younger set were not going to fall for that, as for Migrant Mary, the tent leaks, the air is cooler, but Miguel still dreams of being famous.

A Strand of Hair

It’s odd, on their own, a strand is easily broken, together they are strong, a good example a rope, friends are strands, in some ways, if you understand. She was talking to her aunt, they were having the face to face, it’s easier take advice from those outside the inner ring of family, they don’t know all your faults and practices, less biased. Maybe it’s why it’s easy to unload on strangers what you won’t reveal to friends, it won’t be a barricade afterwards.

Solomon imagined every prayer, a strand of hair, tie them together, you have a strong voice, something you can hang onto, even if the world sounds crazy. In this world, there was so much going on, not according to the thinking of some, sudden changes, unstable leaders, stupid decisions, babbling leaders, so much that has been hidden, is made visible again, in such times, many reach for ropes, help lines, attach themselves to cults, same way they rush to the supermarket when a storm is forecast. And even if the storm is meant to last a day maybe two, they get in enough stuff as if it’s Christmas, then the storm ends, the stuff is there, and they say to themselves, what were we doing.

Solomon listened to the words of old, a prophet wrote, the angel answered, don’t panic, you are not alone, endure and you will be all right. Imagine all those hearts, strands in that rope that never fails. On account of encountering the Divine Spirit, Solomon was obliged to pass the news on, you are never alone, and it’s only when you fear, when you are alone, amen.

All you need is a good night’s sleep

Close the eyes, no need to be anesthetized, as happens in many busy lives, the ability to switch off,  impossible, the brain in a hurry, success buttons on full, how often it is said, you have what you want, when you’re truly happy on the inside, how many, the diva’s that need reassurance, the game that is forever playing out, then the inevitable collapse. In all the health books, the food is great advice, but without

good sleep, you wake jaded, what has happened you ask.

The money machine pumps it out, day and night, never stops running, the pressure to keep up, the new gadget, have to have that, the wife or husband or partner, there seems to be no downtime, less time for the children, meanwhile the President tweets, stuff he is going to shut down, knowing it won’t affect him personally, the religious hierarchy, it’s our way, we have been doing this for over a thousand years, the constant threat to those who challenge the system.

Well, take heart, and this is real, God is real, it’s not myth, and regardless of the regulations that are set, remember they are only regulations, and if unhappy with those in positions of authority, recall the words of old, as said by Jesus, those who take such high positions will be held accountable, so close your eyes tonight and sleep, think of a good memory, involve yourself in real loving adventures, and the help will come, goodnight, amen.