The Person Inside

Four different foundations, each one a shade lighter, she is after the perfect look, she is giving a presentation, there will be cameras and journalists, her outward appearance really matters, the public are influenced by what they see, pretty gets all the attention at the start, what about it she puts on some blusher as well, who can blame her.

The baby is a few days old, pink flesh with eyes arms that move, fed every four hours as per the instructions, the nurse calls every week to assist with the new born health, it’s important to get the foundations right at the start, has an affect on baby the diet the sleep pattern the well being of mother, the person inside needs all this basic nurture.

The four year old child has the phone in his hands, his mother grabs it takes if from him, your too young for all that stuff, wait til you grow up she says with adoring eyes, he screams and screams she says no, she gives him a biscuit calms his troubles away, distraction and other inputs the child will be safer without the mobile phone..

Later, why can’t I do that, well, if that’s what they do, why not me, it’s reasonable logic, he is only a child. Twenty years of online provocation, a click and your on the site, enticed with words, reminded daily by image, your natural workings interfered with, how easy it is, to undermine the well being of the Spirit inside…

The battle was ongoing, the young souls were under assault, the mighty angels were busy, the old networks were falling, the changes were coming everyday, who could imagine it, so many changes in so short a time. Solomon was recalling the pressure so many young were under, as depression was being recorded with alarming frequency, in the very young, a warning call, it was putting pressure on the seed provider, amen.

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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.

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….

The Great Healing

Solomon was remarking on the world of old, how the early generations, in particular the early Jewish ones, won the approval of God. The temples exist the monuments still stand in certain places, the story is not controversial, it’s just that believing comes with a price, a sacrifice if you want. Anyway, everyone gets excited, there is a man who heals people, you just have to go see him, seriously. The men in charge abuse their standing, not all of them but some, they see it as a profession, they organize it, they create an organisation. The early Spiritual power they were endowed with in accordance with their beliefs begins to weaken, till it fails all together. This is not working out, the nearness of heaven is in doubt in the minds of the ordinary, our leaders only reward their friends and those who will do them favors. Along comes Jesus to restore the Spirit, he is given the Holy Spirit, the power of the Father. He can heal, there is power in Him. He goes to his home area, those that know of him don’t believe in Him, as a result, they can’t be healed, amen, he does not feel any love.

How hard is it to have faith, when you live among people who adore the material, worship it, how can The Spiritual blessing work?. Solomon saw storms ease, he wondered this, if only they had the faith to believe, then they could heal the world.

Gandhi

happy birthday Mr Gandhi, the guest is after arriving, and he has a present for the great man, a bowl of peace, just what i was seeking said the octogenarian, well, he is a little older but his spirit is still young, and he has been restless in the pursuit of a peaceful world, his guest, smiles. What do you want to ask me says the old man, who suddenly stops and apologizes for not offering his guest some tea on the veranda. He has traveled a long distance, to seek the wisdom of the peace activist. There is great concern in the world, so many areas of conflict, and the leaders in situ seem out of touch, the wise oracle is badly needed.

No sugar, i’m sweet enough says his guest. There is a tray of biscuits on the table, Mr Gandhi reaches for one and dips one into his tea, a habit i picked up from the english,  he smiles, as he dips it a second time, oops, he lets the biscuit linger and it all falls in. Going to the same place anyway he smiles patting his tummy.

Peace Mr Gandhi, how did you manage it. Mr Gandhi has a childlike smile, his face is radiant, how i got into this place you mean, waving his hands at the surrounds, a paradise of calm and beauty, bliss. His guest nods, no, it wasn’t that peace he was interested in, but how the world was going to mend itself, the threat of wars a daily event, tragedies a regular news item. How do we mend the situation Mr Gandhi, his guest repeats. Mr Gandhi is on his fourth biscuit, and successfully dunks it. Patience he sighs, patience he sighs, not meaning to be overheard. His guest writes in a notebook, patience first. And don’t over react, it achieves nothing adds Mr Gandhi, usually makes things worse, his guest writes more. Patience, don’t over react, his guest is trying to be patient, but Mr Gandhi has his eyes on the biscuits, there is only one left. Should he share it or eat it, and sharing Mr Gandhi says, it makes people thankful, his guest writes sharing into his notebook. The biscuits are gone, Mr Gandhi finally looks up, he smiles at his guest and says,

“so why did you come to visit me then, did you bring any cookies with you then?”

I was seeking wisdom says the guest, oh wisdom, why didn’t you ask me that at the beginning, answers Mr Gandhi, it’s very simple. Once you use the wisdom you have, you get second then third helpings of it, provided you make use of it, it’s the law of the talents. Mr Gandhi sighs, his face droops.

Anything wrong Sir asks the guest?. No biscuits left.