Friday, 26 May 2017

A Talking Stone...

…For Today

In the spiritual community, up in the north of Scotland, where I lived for many years of my adult life (before returning to my home town here in Southern California to live out my remaining days in this sun, or in the one to come), we used to take our guests out into nature as a matter of course.  The community was founded in part on the idea of Humanity getting back in harmony with the Nature that it was a part of; and to that end, we were served well with considerable ideal ‘nature spots’ in our part of the world.  One was along a river (called the River Findhorn; and thus the name of our community, as it terminated in a bay - the Findhorn Bay - where there was a fishing village by that name, adjacent to which was the caravan park where our community was founded and located.  All another story to this one) where we would go ourselves on nature outings, and as well, take our guests, as part of their programme.  And in their initial programme with our community, we would go into a little detail about such outings, and explain such things as how - or at least, so we understood - the American indians (or some particular tribe thereof; these things taking on a life of their own over the years of telling) had a cultural facet that is called - we English-speaking peoples call - a Quest, whereby the young bucks, as part of their initiation into manhood, would be instructed to go out into Nature and find something that ‘spoke to’ them - a twig, a tree, a bit of moss, a cloud, the flow of the water in a stream over and around the rocks, a stone (hence the title of the exercise, about ‘a Talking Stone’) - and sit down with it, and listen.  Just listen.  And we would ask our guests to slow down, and take some time, and try to do the same sort of thing on their outing.  That notion struck me - for whatever reason - today, as I sat eating my mid-day bowl of cereal and fruit, and, instead of planning on going out shortly, either to the ocean, a couple of blocks away, or to the local park (where I often go to get some reading in in the late afternoon sun), and finding some object that ‘spoke to’ me, I ‘found’ myself thinking of my own body.  

(Did you ever think of us?  Really think of 'us'??  That is to say, these bodies that we inhabit??? They are marvelous ‘objects,’ really.  These optical instruments, that decode color and depth.  And how they have four appendages, all that terminate in flexible digits, and in five of them each - usually.  Normally.  And if some people are born with six fingers or toes, what does that tell us, about ‘us’????
     And have you ever looked at flowers, really??  How intricately beautiful they are???  And built on numbers, too.  The Fibonacci series, and all that sort of stuff.  But I digress.  Sort of…)  

So here I sat, with that notion leading me to this, my own body, and mind, today; and of my surname, coming - as I understand, from my paternal grandmother’s telling of the matter - from a family in Europe that took their name from marking their property with a stone in the field.  (Much like a Baker, or a Smith, or a Goldsmith; and so forth.)  So: Herewith my message for today, to me, from me.  And to whomsoever else might benefit, at leas a bit, from it.

You can’t really count on
The mainstream media
To be giving you
Anything other than
The constructed version
Of the story of the day;
          and to be certain
Of the actual facts
Of the particular matter,
            you can look to
The alternative media
           to help you see
        behind the curtain
To the true version.
            there is disinfo
          even there; 
                   the CIA
   not missing a trick
   in their book.

          o where
Has Truth gone to??

              It has fled
This incongruent scene
              and left us 
To our own devices
     to get the hell
     out of this one.

Our free will
Has led us
Far astray.
              It is time
    to find our way
From whence we came
     and start anew.

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