Many times I have said that this is a classroom and recently I was made to understand it will always be a classroom.  This is what is its purpose.  And my heart hit the floor when I realized it.  Our purpose here is to learn and to change ourselves into what we need to be.  Any fallout on an Other is from our abundance and by example, we teach.

That was the kicker.  All the effort, all the work, no matter how hard, was not for others as I thought, but for me.   Any good from me was because my cup runneth over.  Good that came from abundance was good, from duty, resentment clouded the issue.

Coming to mind again was the vacuuming I was doing when my grandson saw how tired I was and asked why was I doing it.  I shouted because I love your mother!  And his head swiveled and to this day I remember his look of surprise.  He does so much for others gratis because he is multi talented that I knew he didn’t realize that he, too, worked this way.  He was loved and what spilled over he gave from abundancy. His good given would be everlasting good.

We feed our belief system to build ourselves into what we need to be.  The good benefits us first.

It is a small hope that I harbor that the purpose will be for this planet to be simply united peoples.  With learning being our prime purpose of life, to learn of cultures and languages and what unites us all.  The only requirement is that we love life and think we can make a difference and Being is worth the work.  In all worlds, all worlds.

In Good Hands. . .

I will invite you to sit beside me
on my couch. . .
to lean into my arms to wrest
the fatigue from a body
grown weary with age. . .

It will come to nothing, this fatigue
with aging because the heart of you
is alive and well though failing. . .
Alive for the world you have prepared yourself
with work, with love, with patience. . .

How do I know this?

You invited me in to have a time
of repair of Spirit when I needed. . .
to sup at your table full of good talk
with laughter,

at the fire with corn in the one bowl
I shared with your sons. . .
to have sat to converse with topics
scraping the souls of their transparency. . .

These were the times I knew
my choices were good ones
and the futures of my worlds

in good hands. . . .