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Old 22-03-2017, 11:24 PM
weareunity weareunity is offline
Join Date: Jan 2017
Posts: 760
Ego came to the village.

Not nourished with love, Ego came to the village, knowing only the way of seeking more and needing to be most. Ego grasped much, never satisfied, finding no fulfillment.

The old woman, childless, took Ego into her home and into her heart, and in the market old men shared their past and their secrets.

Slowly Ego found what Ego had always sought but had never truly known--for love came and filled the well of nothingness and non belonging.

"How can I thank you mother?"
"And how can I thank you son?"

In loving and being loved
We find ourselves at one.

And the old men, seeing the wonder, said amongst each other,
"Love is indeed a powerful mystery."
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Old 18-04-2019, 03:36 AM
Posts: n/a
That's beautiful
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Old 09-02-2024, 04:33 PM
weareunity weareunity is offline
Join Date: Jan 2017
Posts: 760
Some years pass. The old woman who cared for and offered love to the wanderer is now in the loving care of the wanderer.

From her bed she suggests--Before I go, let us speak a little of then and now, for time for me is slipping away and I shall value refreshing the memories as we speak so that I may easily wrap myself within them as I leave.

The wanderer takes the hand of the old woman and bends to kiss her forehead.

Gladly. When we met I was lost but didn't know it--for my loss was simply that I had never found nor been offered love as you have given me. Your gift of love I now see---for I have pondered much upon this--confirmed that I was real, worthy.

The old woman smiles--I am simple, I had no idea of such reasoning, but you, well, you have a mind which thinks on such things. --she squeezes the hand holding her own--but how did you manage then before we met?

The wanderer draws in breath and gazes outward across the room but also inward at feelings, sensations, actions now resting gently in memory, understood and available to be spoken of.

I compensated. I tried to fill a void which I felt but could not fathom, I sought recognition, I behaved in a manner which would gaurantee being noticed. At that time I did not know why, I just felt the need to prove that I was something.

The old woman now reaches out both hands to the hand and forearm of the wanderer sitting beside her bed, and looks with tenderness.--there was no fault in how you were, you did what seemed to you at that time to be all that you could do in circumstances which you could not at that time fully understand.

The wanderer replies-- it is your love which has helped me to understand.

Ah, says the old woman, here I will make an addition to your kind response.

The wanderer chuckles,--oh go on then, you who calls herself simple.

But it is simple, it is not actually my love, it is simply love.

The wanderer laughs--OK. See--you're still magic. I love you.
Now, can I fetch anything for you?

Nope, thanks--maybe I'll have a little snooze.

The wanderer gets up, leaves the room, and leaves the door slightly open.

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Old 19-02-2024, 05:08 PM
weareunity weareunity is offline
Join Date: Jan 2017
Posts: 760
A little later the wanderer peeps through the slightly open door, sees the old woman resting, and with great care to make no sound slowly opens the door and moves toward the bed, listens, and is reassured to hear slow but steady breathing.

Sitting now on a chair placed next to the bed, earlier--but quite how much earlier was not entered into memory--the wanderers eyes close and soon sleep follows.

Woken by a quiet hello and a soft stroking of the back of the hand, and then:-

I have something to tell you when you are fully awake.

The wanderer gently takes the hand and places it on the warmth of the bed cover.

Sounds serious.

The old woman smiles. More mysterious than serious, simple but little understood perhaps. It concerns connection with the process of loving.

That does sound seriously mysterious, replies the wanderer with quizzical eye and a smile.

It's just that our connection with the process of loving is both through the connection of being loved and through the connection of being loving.

So, if we should feel that the connection is broken because we do not feel loved, we are capable of restoring that connection when we ourselves become loving. ---Thats not so very easy to do you know, for we may understandably feel sorry for ourselves when we feel unloved, and the transition from that feeling to the feeling of wanting to show love to others instead can seem like an impossibility.

Then how shall we manage to do as you suggest, asks the wanderer, --do you have one of your magic tricks up your sleeve, you magician you?

No magic, just a way of looking, a helpful perception. replies the old woman.

You see--or at least we are able see if we are willing to look--the process of loving is part of the whole process which we call existence. Everything, everyone, all is interconnected inextricably, nothing is separate--all is all and all is one. This will not be obvious to us until we see the sense of it, and then this strange notion begins to shape our behaviour, our way of being, and that way of being does not divide nor seek division, nor rely upon division.

In that perception we are not separate, not alone, but all part of the whole---so the feeling of feeling sorry for ourselves shrivels away and is replaced by the feeling of being one with all which is.

The old woman closes her eyes, and tears appear in the eyes of the wanderer.

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