the past is a place we visit but not somewhere we want to live. we travel there to reflect, learn and let go, leave a burden behind or, to reinforce our grudge stories so that we can carry on feeling miserable and filled with hate.
we might find that the path we were on led us in a circle and that we have returned to the beginning with a greater depth of understanding. we might discover that what seemed a terrible time actually served us in some way.
there are stories told and acting out upon this Planet that no longer serve us, not you not me not the Great Mother and most certainly not the Grandchildren . conflicts exact a toll upon the land and the Peoples, the guns are sold the missiles are fired the bombs are dropped . despite all the rhetoric for Peace this story is never going to have a happy ending.
is this even important? isn’t a happy ending something for fairy tales, for children for hollywood , surely in the ‘real ‘ world we do not expect a happy ending.
and yet this feeling of happiness contentment is as common to us as breathing – why else do we have this felt capacity for it?
with the light of the Present moment we can honour our journey thru the badlands and the sweet place of surrender and mercy that we arrive at – the place where we feel free enough of our past to choose truth and respect for all beings.
there are People who stand up and act ,many who are not captured on tele or facebook or make it to newsprint or mentioned in a blog, many who seek to protect place, protect the planet, protect the future. these are the invisible acts of Power .
a community saves a whale, someone stops beside a roadkill and rescues the baby from the pouch, a person picks rubbish up off a beach , a small child is prevented from running out onto the road, a pensioner gives a stranger a lift a meal a bed a smile, somewhere a parent identifies abuse and names the teacher the priest the doctor , soup is delivered to a family bereaved , a woman refuses to be hit anymore and speaks out, friends get together and make gardens hold fundraisers for flood victims, a company identifies its waste cleans up its act and plants trees in a park for the people…
everywhere random acts of kindness are taking place, shaping us as humans, gladdening our hearts and healing our differences. it is a common thread woven into the fabric of human existence .
against the odds, the tragedies the horrors the violence, we return again and again to the surface, daring to live life fully, to dream magnificently, to imagine a place a world a planet home, full of happy beginnings.
last night we visited Haydee’s house taking an apple pie that John had baked using the pie bird I gave him last year. her Nanna and Poppy are visiting, it being the school holidays and the little king is home.
Haydee takes several steps on her own between her dad and me. we applaud .her head ducks a little in surprise and then she too claps , her face lights up and fills the room looking at each of her family in turn.
even the little king is impressed even though all he wants to do is talk fishing with granddad John.
delighted with our attentions Haydee takes centre stage and shows off her ball skills , her new friend red doll, the chewed copy of Miffy , wobbling bouncing chatting laughing she has a moment in the sun and we all laugh with her, delighted to be in the company of pure innocence and unfettered joy.
Watching the grandchildren explore the world reminds of the responsibility I hold , of their need for a beautiful world to play in, to breathe in – a world of generosity and sparkling rivers, of respect and ripe summer peaches, of love and friendships.