Old Man Reading…

Sits in the same chair, been doing it for years, he’s reading that old book. They pass him, the grandchildren, they don’t want to engage with him, he’ll ask questions, he is boring, can’t run or walk, just an old man reading a very old book. They go out on the street, leaving the old man to the book.

A year later they are back in the house, the old man is still reading the book, picking through the threads, adding bits to the wisdom he has been pooling. They shrug, I told you, all he does is read that book, no one will believe it, he just reads it over. Across the street a painter works a mural.

Years later they are back at the house, he must be nearly a hundred, there, he is still reading that book, his eyes, how can he keep it up, they shrug, go out side, they catch up with old school friends, they are at university now, across the street they notice, Jesus, what a beautiful mural they say.

He struggles on his back, the temple is being repainted, the light is poor but there is day light left, he wants to finish it before his vacation, he adds a few strokes, eases back, takes a second look, the shade of blue is perfect, her eyes mirror the blue in her garment, giving it the divine affect.

They went out in pursuit of what was only going to last a moment, well, once consumed it’s gone, while what the old man pursued, was what was going to last for ever. Nice and easy does it every time. Solomon sighed, what’s the rush, time is plentiful, what were you going to fill it with, was what mattered, amen.

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wisdom on Friday …. a re blog

Originally posted on Higher Density Blog: ELDER .Thanks to https://outofthisworldx.wordpress.com/2018/05/03/hopi-it-is-now/ Thank you to Michelle A * Message from Hopi Elders You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour, Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. And there are things to be considered… Where are…

via HOPI NATION – IT IS NOW – 5-3-18 – by OUT OF THIS WORLDX — dreamweaver333

Foundation Building

The wine farmer, nods, he is explaining the terroir, the land, and what it means to the wine maker. He has a glass bottle in his hands; in it, four types of soil, the difference, is there a difference wonders the small audience. Sandy and pebbly, heavy and smooth, the four types of soil, are all part of the land. The best grapes grow in the light brown and pebble dash soil, more breathing and better drainage he says, pointing to the far corner of the field; there is more sun too she smiles, one of the visitors says, sure.

They buy a few sample bottles; On the drive back to their lodgings, they discuss the enthusiasm of the farmer, how precise he was, how important the foundation is, and the power of the sun, to turn grapes into vintage wine, one of them is a teacher, she has a thought, her friends notice, “Lucy, what are you not sharing!”

Who wants to be serious on holiday, few. She wants to hold the thought. She imagines her children, her school children, as bottles of wine. Would it not be great to give them a foundation, rather than, toys that occupy their minds. She is high school, knows the problems facing families. How the mobile has replaced the parent almost, it’s not a popular thought, few will agree, but she is a teacher, and foundations are her core, just like the french wine maker, common sense to make those foundations secure.

Be Prepared ….a re blog

Meeting God requires nothing more than you creating the opportunity to do so. The rest is managed by God.

via Meeting — Soul Healing Art

A Total Recall

 

Ever the feeling, the one thought that is constant, it floats from mind to mind, the moment when the stranger will appear, invisible but very real. How our Spirits are interfered with, the power of thought and well being curbed, as if someone had applied a break. It must be on so many minds, apart from those addicted, well addicted is too hard a word, it assumes medical need, the suppression of an old habit, it means there is something wrong, what are we going to do about it, almost. No, no, the scale of the problem, so damn political, the scale of the issue, sounds a lot better, particularly to the addict, a business proposal more the truth, you will pay for the therapy, you can pay me back later, the connotations, you can read so many ways. But the stranger in the room, the heckler in the audience, the noise that wants to make noise, the head miner, feeling for anxiety, hoping to exploit, Solomon was listening to it all, and most importantly, the stranger in the room, total recall.

We lived in a world where news was used to exploit undermine and unhinge at times, those receiving it, some call it head mining, others call it propaganda, Solomon sighed, it wasn’t exactly new or anything, it just happened that, that same power to harry people, was now in nearly every pair of hands in the world, total recall, smell the coffee.

Learning Irish

A small miracle, the desire to learn the Irish language grows, Harry is upbeat, interested, there are twenty in the class, all mature students, when in school, many thought learning Irish was a waste of time, no money in it, no job in it, just another language that is dying, why bother, when you should be concentrating on math, who can argue with that. that was then, this is now. A dying language, so practical, the way the words fall out of the mouth, what’s in it for me, what’s in it for me, how often have you said that.

If only they made it more interesting in school, it’s how you teach it, and the values that you promote. Joy excitement intrigue meaning understanding, in school, few teachers do it that way. Can you imagine the early believers listening to Jesus, telling them about the new kingdom, the Glory of Heaven, and all that he was saying meanwhile, those who were ill were gathering to hear the good news, imagine the excitement, Mary is suddenly better, the blind leper, can see and his limbs perfect, imagine what they the believers were thinking, He is the answer to all our problems, awesome. Then he tells them, it’s inside you all, it’s the way you tell them I suppose, amen

We’ll meet in my Tent says the Dali Lama..

A messenger has come, the “wise” are assembled, the ear of the Holy Divine is burning, the latest atrocity is a news story no one wants to hear; there is too much fear in the system, and the Great One wants something done about it.

(If they can poison the air so readily in Syria, they can do it anywhere!, this madness has to be curtailed, what chance have the bees got!)

So he summons the wise  men and women of Faith;  The Dali Lama, Suleyman The Prophet, the Leaders of The Christian and Islamic faith, to a meeting with Jesus in the desert. How can they solve other peoples problems when they can’t solve their own, it’s been going on awhile, something has got to give, or someone has got to give. The Great One is inside the tent too, behind the veil, he listens.

Sunny day at the oasis, what else, a mid twenty degrees and a sweet breeze, not enough to raise the sands, but cool enough to keep everyone cool under the collar, no excuses. The agenda is simple; all the leaders of their Faiths have to deal with in fighting, and this had been going on a long time, did they not listen to Jesus when he warned them about divided kingdoms; they fail.

“We have obeyed the Great Prophet in all that he asked” says Suleyman

The Dali Lama sighs,

“why is your great religion divided then, why can’t you go back to the cross roads and start again, people are afraid of the anger you share for those of your own faith; can’t you make it plain, you say Jesus is number three in your order, well if that is so, why do you ignore his teachings then!”

“What do you mean asks!” Suleyman,

Jesus is sipping some nice tea and having a few blows from a hookah; he is the only one interested in the pipe, a sweet blend, he enthusiastically partakes. When the others refuse it he quips to himself, maybe they should try each others company more often rather than hide away among their own; who isn’t afraid of what they do not understand. He takes the pipe to his lips, inhales.

“and what about the Jewish question?” adds the Dali lama, who is all smiles as usual.

Jesus raises his eyebrows, it’s a thorny issue, he thought that was dealt with, but it regularly raises it’s head, always when change is on the menu; the usual excuse, point in the other direction, he reaches for the hookah, peace man he sighs.

Inside the veil of wisdom, The Most High listens, and while those outside are not divided for once; they are talking, He sows wisdom in them. A week later, they announce, a new prayer, one for all of them, a small step, but a game changer. When the sworn

enemies became brothers the light they form enlightens….