The Event

"Grandpa, Grandpa, tell us a story."

"What?  Well, lookee here.  We got us an audience.  And you in the back there can stop your giggling anytime now. I know you like to hear me talk in the old funny ways, but don't cause me to lose my stride.

"So.  What would you like to hear about."

"Tell us about - 

"I know.  I got a good story to tell.  I was just thinking about this subject the other day, as I still like to say.  And no, I'm not going to go into a whole scientific dissertation on what I'm talking about, like I have sometimes been accused of, by certain parties, who shall remain nameless.  Just keep up, campers.  I've only got so much energy in me these days…Now what'd I say about that carrying on back there??…

"Anyways.  The story.  Yes.  

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away… campers; what'd I say, now?  - there was a place where all kinds of things grew out of the Earth.  You've heard about Those Days, so I'm not going to go into all that in detail.  Things just grew there, that's all.  Like what I'm doing here, now.

"See this piece of stuff that I'm pretending to do something with?  It's called wood, and I'm pretending to do with it what we called 'whittling' it.  Growing something out of it, in a sense.  Unfolding its potential.  Bringing something out of it.  I'm actually practicing the art of creation.  Shaping it with a knife, into something; a horse, maybe, or a unicorn."

"Don't get too fanciful now, in this story, Grandpa.  We want to hear about real - "

"No sir, I won't, sir.  Because this is a real down-to-earth story, and you wouldn't know much about the meaning of that, either.  But then this is my story, and I'll tell it the way I want to, and no more; right, campers?

(a chorus of agreement)   

"So: I was talking about this 'stuff'.  See, we used to think that this 'stuff' was real.  It's a bit hard to explain.  I'm going to carry on for now.  Don't want to lose my stride.  That's an old expression, too…Deary me, but this is hard going.  With such an attentive audience and all - you kids in the back there; don't you have anything better to do, than annoy an old man, who's trying to do something for you?"

(murmurs of apology, laced with some short bursts of the giggles) 

"That's better.  Now where was I.  Don't tell me.  I haven't lost all my marbles, you know."

(stifled giggles; with a brief smile from the Old Man himself, as if about an old memory; then back to business:)

"Right.  The wood.  Yes.  This reminds me of a story about a huge old, gnarled old oak tree.  Now you know about those sorts of things from your history lessons; right?" 

(a chorus of agreement; but a voice is 'piped up', as they used to say in Grandpa's day in time:)

"Gnarled is..."

"Bent out of shape a bit, here and there.  But the essence of the tree still stands; is still there."

(nods around.   They all knew about essences.  They had their being in Essence.)  

"Well now, this was a very special old oak tree.  Some even considered it magical.  That it contained magical properties."

(waiting for a chorus of oohs, which he finally gets, along with some giggles; then:)

"It had been in our back yard, when we lived in separate houses, with green grass all 'round; and it grew up with us some, even though it was way older than us.  I tell you, it was a beauty.  We used to climb up in its branches, and you could see far, far away…"

(lost in reverie for a moment; then:)

"I mean to say, you could climb way way up in its branches; and the higher you went, it magically gifted you with something you lot know all about but we didn't, much and was what we called clairvoyance.  You've heard of that from your history lessons?"

(nods around, except for some of the smaller Ones; who were shushed by an older One from asking questions at the moment, so as not to put Grandpa 'off his stride')

"Well anyway.  Time passed - you know all about 'time' from your history lessons; right?"

"You've asked us that before, Grandpa."

"Well now, sir, yes you are right there, sir, I have done that very thing, sir, haven't I."

"Sorry, Grandpa.  It's just that you forget things, sometimes."

"Now do I.  Fancy that.  What with so many memories, and all, of Those Days…It hadn't slipped my mind, sir; I was just checking.  Now may I proceed with this here story you kids have aksed me to tell, or not."

(chorus of support; with one fractal in particular looking curious about what he has just heard, and whispering something to his neighbor, with a smile; but, continuing:) 

"Well then.  I'll just git on with it, then."

(the same precocious fractal whispers something again to his neighbor)

"So, there was this magical tree in our back yard.  When things began to change around us.  Things got bad, real bad."

(He pauses, lost in thought)  

"How so, precisely, sir?"

(snapping out of his reverie)  "The way we lived our lives.  The qualities, the values we lived them by.  Some people were very conscientious about the way they lived with each other, and some, not so.  Now I know that I just threw a big concept in there on you; but I think you'll git my drift."

(the same precocious fractal again whispers something to his neighbor, who nods, with a smile)  

"Part of what was going on was that there were those who wanted change, and those who didn't; who were happy with the way things were, or at least, didn't particularly care for the type of change that the other group wanted.  Things got so bad between the two groups that civil war was brewing. 

"I know you know about the wars of Those Days - "

(nods of sadness)

" - but I'm not sure you understand the concept of 'brewing'."

(shaking of heads)  

"That means - oh, never mind.  It means things were 'up' - about to burst open.  It was a terrible time.  A terrible, terrible time."

(shakes his head at the memory.  His audience falls silent, in sympathy.  Not having lived in Those Days, they couldn't be empathetic.  It is beyond the limits of their consciousness, what the Old Man is recalling, and going through.  He then comes out of his reverie, to some degree; continuing:)

"That was where things stood, when the solution to the problem - like a problem in mathematics - was taken out of their hands.  For, in the event, Providence intervened - you know what I speak of, when I refer to the concept of Providence in Those Days?" 

(nods of agreement)

"So, in the event, Providence intervened, when, in the course of an unreasonably long rainy 'spell' - and there's an interesting word for you, for us to look at at some point, because it has different meanings -  there was this big rain, I mean a real soaker, and that old oak tree came crashing down on our house, one early evening."

(a ripple of shock goes through his young audience.  He lets it build a bit; then:)  

"Fortunately, no one was killed, or even injured, because there was an event that the entire family had gone to that evening."

(sighs of relief; all of them knowing of such things as being 'killed' or 'injured' from their history lessons, and having seen images of such horrors of Those Days)

"And you all know what an Event is."

(nods of assurance)

"Well, that saved the day, as we used to call a good happening.  

"For it turned out that that old oak tree had, unbeknownst to us all, been rotting to its core -  not 'at', but 'to', if you git my drift - and when that unseasonable rain came, - "

"You called it an 'unreasonable' rain before, Grandpa.  Sir." (says the precocious One; who is obviously One for detail)  

'This One will make a good pilot,' thinks the Old Man.  'Until he progresses on, he will be able to suss out coordinates beautifully.'  But he continues on with the weaving of his spell:

"Yes, it was that,  too.  Now who is telling this story, me or you, son." 

"Sorry, sir.  Grandpa.  Sir.  You are."

"We used to have a name for chillun like you.  A young whippersnapper; that's what you are.  Like this other one up front here.  But let me finish, because I'm almost at the end of the story anyway."

"Please, sir.  Please.  You have me very intrigued.  What is a 'whippersnapper'?"  

"And you have me very intrigued, son.  You've got a sharp mind.

"A whippersnapper is…

" - a 'never you mind'."

(giggles from his audience)

"And you can stop giggling back there, in the back, any time now; or you'll throw me off my stride."

"You've used that expression before, Grandpa.  We get the gist of it from its context.  But what exactly - "

"No, I'm not going to get into that one either.  I'm sure you can call it up, if you're really interested in what I have to say…" 

(glares at them, theatrically.  Some of the older fractals stifle giggles; some of the younger Ones grow hushed, not sure how to take their beloved, but curmudgeonly, Grandpa.  His moods are hard to figure, sometimes, even for the older Ones.  He can be 'all over the place' - as another expression, that he has taught them from Those Days, has it.  One of the older Ones ventures to 'test his luck'; says, in a properly chastened tone:) 

"We're interested, Grandpa."

"Good.  So let me proceed, with this here story.  If you don't mind."

"We don't mind, Grandpa."

"Good.  I like it when kids your age are mindful of their elders.  Us Elders lived through some very difficult times, let me tell you.  Some very difficult times, indeed.  Let me tell you.  Oh - I am, aren't I…

(some dutiful chuckles)

"So let me finish."

(pausing, as in reflection.  Growing strangely somber; as though he is no longer in a kidding mode, but still trying to keep his 'story' in that form.  The older fractals understand, and listen closely.  To the younger Ones, it is just a story, from their Elder known simply by what he asked to be known as: Grandpa.)

"So they found out that it had been only a matter of time before that old oak tree would have given up the ghost anyway…"

 "What's that mean, Grandpa?"  (one of the younger Ones speaking up; is hushed by one of the older Ones)

"Am I ever going to be allowed to finish this story, or what?"

"Sorry, Grandpa."

"Before you kids's time there was Time.  We lived in a sort of container.  You've learned some about this in your history lessons.  But what you can't know, is how very real everything seemed in there.  It was as real to us as this plane is to you lot.  And there was none of this simply 'knowing' stuff.  We had to work at knowing things. And all we knew was what was right around us, on our level; our plane; our octave.  What is called the levels of the Expression of Prime Creator.  Vibratory rate.  Frequencies.  Resonance.  You kids understand that stuff??"

(nods around)

"I'll bet you do." (said sarcastically)

(one of the older Ones chimes in; as if a bit bored with this elementary subject:) "Like singing."

"Right.  We had a different way of expressing it, but you got it.  It's like singing things into being.  Precisely that.  Well caught.

"So we existed in our own little world, on our own little plane.  We didn't know about things like our multi selves and dimensions and universes and such.  Things were - flatter, there.  

"And so, when a spirit appeared in our third dimensional realm, we just didn't know what to make of it.  And so we made up a name for it.  We called it a ghost.

"And some of us believed in them.  And some of us didn't. 

"It was rather like what began to separate us, over this 'change' business I was telling you about.  That I will get back to, now.

"See, life - the world - began to change around us, where I lived.  We called them 'countries'.  They were areas, with varying cultures.  Well; you know about that stuff.  But what you may not fully understand is that some folks were all for the change beginning to manifest itself, and some were agin it…

"Now I see that look on some of your faces, who are listening closely to what I have to say.  'Agin' something means - meant...how time flies…  - a joke, there.  You've got to humor an Elder, sometimes.  We span two different realms of being, and the other one still has aspects of us in it.    

"And speaking of 'init': 'Agin' something means - meant - to be against it…Deary me, I've lost track of time agin.  

"A little inside joke there, campers.  I won't bother to explain it.  Take too long.   

"So, as I was saying, about 'spirits'. That word has different meanings as well.  It can mean a way of looking at things.  So this new spirit, of Change, came through our town.  And as I say, some were for it, and some were…"

(listening to them.  The older Ones 'get it', and come up with a chorus of 'agin it')    

"That's right; and that's good, campers.  You're good listeners.  I like that.  No one else seems to want to hear about Those Days.  But let me 'be'-gin to wrap this telling up.  I'm going to run out of steam any minute.  And no, I'm not going to bother to explain that one, either.  Look it up in your history lessons. 

"Books, they were called, in my day.  Where we made funny little squiggly marks on something called 'paper' - a surface - that stood for sounds, before we 'graduated' into just the thoughts themselves.  From our realm of separation and duality...

"Anyway.  Where was I.  No; don't tell me.  I'll find the thread.  To put through a needle…in a haystack...Got you on those, didn't I."

(some chuckles; some looks of curiosity)

"So anyway.  About the Old Times; as I call them, when you younguns aren't around, who can't have a full appreciation of what we used to call 'time'.  You grow, but in a different way than we did.  We had what we called bodies - "

"We know about those, Grandpa."

"I see the young whippersnapper is still with us."

(some chuckles; some 'lost' looks, as if hardly capable of waiting until they could check the unfamiliar word's meaning out )

"So.  'The winds of change,' we called it.  That blew that old oak tree right over onto our house.  Which was rotting anyway, we found out then.  The tree, I mean.  Not the house.  Although the house was made of wood; which was what trees were made of…

"I'm getting a little lost, here.  What was I going to say…

"The magical tree; yes.  That was it.  The point of the story that I want to leave you with.

"You see, the spirit of the tree was still vibrant and alive; full of energy.  But the form had begun rotting away.  - "

"What does - "

"Rotting; I know.  It's like, decomposing.  De-materializing.  De- - How can I put this."

"Deconstructing?"

"Yes.  That's a good way to put it.  Like a concept.

"It was deconstructing.  And so, the form had to go.  But the spirit remained.  And it was the spirit of that old oak tree that survived the crash of the form.  And we survived, because of…"

(listening for the response.  And getting it; enthusiastically.  Even from the younger ones:)

"The Event!"  

"You got it.  Now run along, and play.  I've got better things to do with my time left on this plane than to sit around telling you lot stories."

(mischievously) "Like what, Grandpa."

"Whippersnapper, that is what you are.  A young whippersnapper.  Just like I was at your age.  

"Now, run along.  Because, you see, I'm dried out.  At my core.  And I'm liable to keel over at any time.  Just like that old oak tree did... 

"Times and seasons.  Nothing lasts forever.  But you kids don't really know about time, do you."

"You've told us about it, Grandpa."

" Yes, I would guess that I had.  Well, run along anyway.  Because I need some space right now."

"You're crying, Grandpa.  Like you've told us about.  Why is that??"

"You ask too many questions, son.  But I'll tell you why, seeing's as how you asked.

"It's because I used to play in that old oak tree, sonny boy.  I have fond memories of it.  Me and that old oak tree were a team.  And I was saddened to my bones when it came down."

(one of the younger fractals) "What are bones, Grandpa?"

"Yes, I thought that subject would come up, sooner or later, in our little conversations like this, amongst you younguns, who haven't come across all that in your history lessons yet.  But it'll have to wait a while, little One.  I need a little space right now."

The fractals thanked their 'Grandpa' for his 'time,' as he would put it to them, and went off to frolic in the Field of Joy.  While the Old One remained awhile where he was, continuing to reminisce about the Old Times.

And cry another tear or two.  (Energetically speaking, of course.  Crystalline bodies verging on morphing into their basic Light bodies don't do such old-ways things materially.)  For the loss, in his lifetime in the Old Time, of an old oak tree, that he was - had grown to be - very, very fond of.  

Before The Event took over all their lives.  And made everything, like, new.