From an Upper Floor

Who Will Feed The Children? . . . 

Unsteady on his legs, I watched my grandson bend down and pick up his book.  In one motion, he touched the book to his lips.

In another time, when I was young, I saw his great grandfather move with just such a motion to pick up a piece of bread from the floor and touch his lips.

“Papa,” I asked, “why did you do that?”

“It is the staff of life,” he said.  “All bread is holy.  I am sorry I was not more careful.”

In a moment and more quickly than it takes to scribe the motion, the act of one was the continuing presence of the other.  The source of reverence for both was what each considered holy.  To our grandson still very much unsteady on his feet, I wondered the source of his reverence for books.  All of us loved books but was this bred into his genes and chose to show itself at this particular time?

Now at this time I have photos taken of Emma E. his daughter and my great granddaughter.  Taken at a book sale on a neighborhood lawn, Emma E. with her artist grandmother Claudia, has difficulty which ones to choose!

I see the generations, from my father, to our grandson, and now my great granddaughter, these three have brought the memory of the fallen bread and book to mind for this precise moment.  I did not seek out the memory and did not know it was stored anywhere.

And becoming familiar with The Holographic Universe, (Michael Talbot) and learning that memories are bedded throughout the brain, I am in awe of what mind does.  Like a magnificent filing system, the two memories signaled each other and unified a presence.

It was a simultaneous response, one beckoning the other to connect the great grandson to his great grandfather and now my great granddaughter to this holder and vault of memories, her grandmother great Veronica.  How much are we responsible for?

A loving gesture with bread.  A loving gesture with a book.  Both with reverence, a source of food.  Both soul food, knowing an unfed mind hungers as deeply as the unfed body.

Who will feed the children?

And the children shall lead them he said.  And we will listen to the children.  There will be stories about where they came from and who they saw.

And  I asked the four year old, did you have a good time with Annie?  Her name isn’t Annie he said , it is Olivia.  And where did you meet her and he said in ennuway and where is that I asked.  You know, you know, he said it is where dead people go and wait to be born.

Oh, I said, I forgot.  And gave him a big hug.  And I have been hearing from readers who are grandmothers who tell me similar things.  Because they have been listening with open hearts and the children trust the safe ones.

And the women who are speaking now after generations of being daughters of those who were sung to stand by your man now have voice.  While their mothers were left to protect the children because they knew to educate the children they could not earn enough so they would be silent.  The contradictions were large enough to choke a horse.

We know what we find despicable; the sexual predators of the least able because of race  or gender or simply youth.  The greedy who learned to game the system and wish not only the food off the tables of the poor but to take their work also?

We may be guilt free in this life but perhaps Joseph’s coat of many colors literally means that we wear through lifetimes not only skins of many colors but genders?

The Talmud teaches that the purpose of life is to learn.  And as we learn we must dislodge the log out of our eyes before attempting removal of the splinter from the eye of whomever else.  In the learning we find the taste of salt in the water on our tongues and wonder how come and from where?

Maybe the straight and narrow this time but why the dark holes in memory?   Maybe sensitive enough to feel others’ plights this time because we live long enough to think it through? Or perhaps a nudge to get the wheel of Evolution out of a rut?

When we fail to remember our encounters where we hurt and maimed others, we are a sick people.  Long ago wounded, deeply wounded.  But who is not?

Who picks up the rock to throw it through the window?  Because he is without sin?  Without sickness?

It is a relief to note the lifting of the boot so evolution can breathe freely again.  I see the signs and hear the children.  Please. . . you be the role model to encourage them to make a difference.

It seems our heads should be our bastion of privacy.   At least we thought so except we think now it is also the last illusion we hold.  For among us walk those whose heads are like magnets.  Picking up thoughts lying profusely about, without an anchor.

But there they sit ready for the picking from the audience about and wondering why nothing seems to shock anymore.

Not what we are seeing, not especially what we are hearing.  Not from the young in years and not from those who sit in heads of government, companies or families.

What is going on? Coming out of mouths are words we might have had in mind but manners being taught since kindergarten, have kept them silent.  Now we have in power people who voice things long  kept at bay.

Now they speak and in public say what comes to mind, lawless, unkind, prurient, vile, defiant and demeaning of humanity and sacredness.  Yet we are not shocked.  Why not?

Because they simply say out loud what has taken centuries to civilize humanity, to make us mannerly and to live communally in peace as we could.

We know all the words and thoughts that are now shouted from the stages to roaring crowds who agree.  And know without doubt we cannot look our young in face and tell them to behave when we in the stadiums throughout the world are without manners.  Without civility.  Without shame.

So all those who have walked lifetimes nearing a century with their antenna up and have heard their fellows’ thoughts and cringed with belly whoppers to the solar plexus, now see in visual discordance the behaviors kept in abeyance because we loved life enough to work hard and guard it zealously.

We see and grind our teeth because we see defamation to the work of lives dedicated to the sacredness of this planet.  The best classroom in the universes Earth has always been.  The most desirable school because the classes are of caliber; mountains are high but we are tested.

The barn and barnyard are too clean for the vile behavior in practice whether in private or in the public offices of presidencies in countries or companies; whether in boardrooms or congresses.

I am an old woman now who has learned that to be human is the excuse only for those who do not know where their god resides.  Think on it and think it through.

With my coffee I sat and read the entry stating vengeance is mine saith the Lord.  And to me it meant balance.  Man was at the place of growth at the time, with the concept of balance needing to be introduced.  And for man the concept had to come from that greater something man worshiped.

A growth commensurate with the intelligence sparking would be compensated.  Meaning that what is taken illegally, (stolen) unequally, (cheated) taken as usurping an Other, that there was an internal set of scales judging but yet undisclosed.

In other words, mentally cognizant or not, there is a balance weighed and known.  All these must be understood as concepts that had to be learned.  They were not born in man yet.

And no one gets away scot free.  There is a measuring up at some point.  What is taken is given back or compensated mightily.  There is no getting away with anything.  Vengeance is mine saith life in total.  It is such or life in any form would no longer be.

Throughout the universes, throughout, there is balance.  There is an intelligence that directs and dictates within the freedom of free choice.  Hoping against hope, life in any form will choose what is good for the ALL.  No halfway measures.  There is no it don’t matter dictum.  For it all matters and there are individual consequences to be attached and paid.

The reason is growth.  There is nothing junked.  All is itemized and noted, and all is destined for good.  It has to be, or we would be no more.

I have not the words, so I am not saying it right.  There is balance dictated by the underlying intelligence as I wrote in the June 7, 2015, We Only Begin post.  Intelligence is the primary factor of all Universes.

Not a thing to be taken for granted, as a nothing or non- life because we have as its center, life, the smallest particle, which one day grows into its full capacity of intelligence.  To whatever end that particle succeeds will be another meeting of parts where in its composition will again grow toward other forms of intelligence, other forms of life.

Like God in a Rock.  Because the inanimate, the least seemingly alive particle has within its substance the desire to unite with and ultimately grow. (God Participants all) The vengeance is mine concept is life begetting life, not out of anger or fear or desire to best the impossible but to allow growth and its ultimate life in the best capacity.  And what that capacity will be, we simply do not know.

The Great God has always been for me the Michael Talbot’s holographic universe, rolling thunderous boulders down and up bulrushes, because that is what I have lived lumbering in heavy boots, with one foot still in my last world.  The intensity has ruled and moved planets and suns.   Science will give us cold facts with the how for the worlds born.

But not until the connection is seen where the impassioned Spirits of Beings required expansion to manifest creative thought, will the why of it all be understood.  We had it, knew it and sold it for a handful of dry ash.  Why?  Since we are in such a holy place. . . .