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An
Act Of Kindness
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He was driving home one
evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small mid-western
community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit
looking. Ever since the Levis factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and
with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely
road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were
leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed
and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he
buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country.
He could go down this road blind, and
tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working,
that came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries
were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't
see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim
light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of
her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he
approached her.
Even with the smile on his face, she
was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he
going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He
could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He
knew how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He
said, "I'm here to help you m'am. Why don't you wait in the car
where it's warm. By the way, my name is Joe."
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but
for an old lady, that was bad enough Joe crawled under the car looking
for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon
he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands
hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down her window
and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and
was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming
to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk.
She asked him how much she owed him.
Any amount would have been alright with her. She had already imagined
all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe
never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was
helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given
him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it
never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she
really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed
help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and
Joe added "...and think of me".
He waited until she started her car and
drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he
headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the
road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and
take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was
a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole
scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of
an out of work actor, it didn't ring much.
Her waitress came over and brought a
clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even
being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed
that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let
the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how
someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she
remembered Joe.
After the lady finished her meal, and
the waitress went to get her change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady
slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came
back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something
written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes, when she read what
the lady wrote. It said, "You don't owe me a thing, I've been there
too. Someone once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really
want to pay me back, here's what you do. Don't let the chain of love end
with you."
Well,
there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve,
but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got
home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money
and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and
her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be
hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next
to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low,
"Everything's gonna be alright, I love you Joe."
End.
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A
Parable Of Risk: Betting On The Here & Now by
David
Zoe |
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Wayne had waited
all of
his life to begin loving, to enter into communion with all beings.
It seemed to him that there was always something more to atone for
before he could feel himself worthy of Love. Another act of
forgiveness to go through, another bad habit to overcome, another
day of meditation, one more retreat, more solitude, always, always,
though, there was the waiting.
The call had resonated so deeply
with him, he knew he had to follow. Where would it lead? He wasn't
sure he could handle another journey and it's always accompanying
dark night of the soul. He didn't want to head out again only to
always be with himself, only to return to where he always is, to
that place where all find themselves. Here. And that's when it
deepened. It broadened, sweeping him up in waves of Love and
Understanding. It was a felt sense of completeness, total and
without exclusion. "Is that it", he thought? "That's
all? You mean I need not go anywhere, need not do anything? And all
this ing, all this time spent chasing my tail like a dog, only
to find out, now, that, It never not Is, that, It Is ALL, even me,
with all my insane judgements and chattering voices, sweeping
emotions and compulsive desires.
At that moment time ceased. At that
moment the Reality of Eternity was no longer some fancy intellectual
concept but known beyond a shadow of a doubt as the only Real
experience he had ever had. The doors of perception flung openly
madly revealing previously hidden dimensions of the Real that he now
knew were the fundaments of all Createdness. Like so much ice
melting in the sun of spring his once rigid boundaries were soon to
be no more. The expansion of self to Self was merely his own Essence
unfolding like a thousand petaled Lotus. A fragrance, an aroma
wafted all around his boundless nature. Music, celestial tones
emitted from his very Self, for he was the music of the spheres, the
infernal Stars, the exploding Galaxies, the plains and rivers of
Light and Love that rolled through them, the Awareness was him, was
All. He could now chase down dreams with the innocence of a child,
wherever and whatever---even whomever--- he would place his
Awareness on he would become the Essence of.
"What Love", he thought,
and it would increase. "What bliss and joy, what peace and
understanding, what connectedness", and it was so. The
separation ceased to be. He now knew that it was his travels, his
journeys, his beliefs that he had to do in order to be worthy of
that had prevented him from Being his Real Self, from embracing the
Totality that simply IS, that he know knew to be ALL, from the
heights of joy to the depths of despair. He was never, is never, not
Divine. He was never, is never, not at One with All That Is. And so
long as he believed he needed to go here or there, do this or that,
in order to become worthy of being Who We Always Already Are he
would fail to recognize his most Real Self; the Self that is One
with All, that is not separate, but is of the same substance, the
same Spiritual Prescence, that constitutes all of manifest reality.
Was it a coincidence that at
precisely the moment he realized it would only happen here, only
happen now, It did? Was it merely an irony that when he ceased the
, the ended, and not only ended but revealed to him
what always already is the case, is the Condition of Reality? All he
could do was laugh. There was no punishment needed, no judgement
called for. In fact he now knew that as an Eternal One he co-created
this game, this ing, these dramas, so that All might not be so
bored with ItSelf.
Time wasn't an issue. Time doesn't
matter to those who know Eternity. So what's the rush when you will
never not Be? What's the headlong fury for when the Truth is that we
have all time at our disposal, that our games have no whistle that
is going to blow, that the only end to the drama comes when we
choose to enact another role or choose to detach from all roles and
enter once again into the Unified Field of Oneness? Judgement
dropped with this understanding and Wayne knew that as he would
re-enter the world of Game-players and Mask-wearers he would now
allow all to play the part they believe is their's to play, he was
beyond judging others, for to him he now saw the Truth; that it
would merely be judgement of Self, the Self that is unassailable,
the Self that is you, him and her, this and that, those and these,
us and them, here and there, One and All.
We are Wayne.
End.
by David Zoe
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