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I sat in dumbfound-land for a while staring at the Hot One - she wore sunglasses (the reflective kind) and looked simply ... well... divine! Slowly it dawned on me that I could ask all the questions about life rushing around in my head I’d had since I was yeah-high. But somehow none of them seemed important enough to ask anymore.
Tornado came running up and asked me, "What comes after 999?"
"1,000" I answered distractedly, "Er... why do you want to know that?"
"I am counting all the sand grains on this beach!" he said proudly. He turned to go, but stopped and looked at the Hot One, cocked his head for a while and said, "You are so full of light - awesome!"
They high-fived and he ran back to his counting. "What a sweet soul" she murmured.
I had heard several descriptions of Tornado. The most polite one being "handful" but usually "wired", "high-strung", "impossible" were the adjectives muttered along with his name. Never, ever (going all the way back to when I was yeah-high) had I heard the word "sweet" associated with him.
She looked at me, "All souls are sweet."
"You made all the souls sweet?" I asked.
"No, we made all the souls sweet!"
"What do you mean?!" I wasn't ready to take that kind of responsibility!
"Let me tell you a story...so there was this one Being all by herself. She didn't mind being alone, but decided it would be fun if there were more of her kind. So she split herself into many parts (and here is the real fun part), she made all the other parts forget her!
Ok, ok, you are old enough to know the truth. I am that Being mentioned in the story; and you, my fab friend, are me too. You have just (quite conveniently) forgotten who you are, and are on an epic and unique quest to find out that you are me! Isn't that just the most marvelous plan?"
"Uh... uh..argg..." I managed to say.
"Yes, it is!" she answered herself.
"So... so... " I stuttered, "What is the secret?"
"I ... I ...I .. " she imitated me, "just told it to you!"
"It can't be that simple!" I almost shouted, "There have been volumes written about how to .. how to .. get on your good side.."
"Surprise! You are already on my good side and ... ," she leaned close to me and whispered, "I guess you can be entrusted with this knowledge - I don't really have a bad side."
Now I was furious. Surely all the spiritual stuff I did made me .... well... better then .. say my shallow and petty, party-obsessed sister?! It had to! She did nothing remotely spiritual! And I, on the other hand, did deep things - like reading, meditating, and philosophizing.
"Your sister is such a sweet soul! All the stuff she does is just her way of singing Wow! Life is awesome!" she injected into my thoughts. "Tornado is saying the same thing by counting sand grains."
I sat there staring at her. Could this be true? Could it be so simple and easy?
The Hot One pointed to a group of kids playing in the sand. Their grandma (presumably) sat a bit away watching with a perpetual smile on her face, "So what do you think granny wants her kids to do on the beach?"
I stared at the scene for a while as gradually it began to dawn on me - I turned to the Hot One, "You just want us to experience different things .. and have fun .. creative fun. No matter what we do, you are pleased."
"Yes!" the Hot One exclaimed, "You are getting it, kiddo! I watch (quite blissfully, I might add) everything you do. You know how a baby starts baby-step walking, and goo-goo talking, the mother always goes ga-ga. But if you really think about it, walking is not much of an accomplishment, because almost everyone does it eventually. I look at you in the same way, and get goose bumps (well, formless ones) whenever you do something creative and passionate - I don't care if it's a Mona Lisa or a stick-figure - I go ga-ga over it."
"But" my mind refused to accept this simple truth, "what about the hurt and pain we go through? I mean..."
She pointed out at a couple of guys playing Volleyball. Just then one of them dove and took a pretty bad spill (I'm sure she had something to do with it) and completely tore up his shirt (again I'm sure she did that too - shirts don't usually get torn up playing beach Volleyball, because guys are not usually wearing them). He lay there for a while, sat up, grinned, stripped his shirt off, and put on a new one. Then he got up and began playing again.
"The soul doesn't really get hurt, the body it’s wearing does, and you get to change it when it gets really messed up."
We sat there in silence - I think I understood. I looked around and started seeing everything quite differently – When I quit judging, everybody looked quite interesting - in fact, they looked downright awesome!
"Wow!" I said after getting awed-over with everything, 'Life is awesome!!!"
read next part...
I sat in dumbfound-land for a while staring at the Hot One - she wore sunglasses (the reflective kind) and looked simply ... well... divine! Slowly it dawned on me that I could ask all the questions about life rushing around in my head I’d had since I was yeah-high. But somehow none of them seemed important enough to ask anymore.
Tornado came running up and asked me, "What comes after 999?"
"1,000" I answered distractedly, "Er... why do you want to know that?"
"I am counting all the sand grains on this beach!" he said proudly. He turned to go, but stopped and looked at the Hot One, cocked his head for a while and said, "You are so full of light - awesome!"
They high-fived and he ran back to his counting. "What a sweet soul" she murmured.
I had heard several descriptions of Tornado. The most polite one being "handful" but usually "wired", "high-strung", "impossible" were the adjectives muttered along with his name. Never, ever (going all the way back to when I was yeah-high) had I heard the word "sweet" associated with him.
She looked at me, "All souls are sweet."
"You made all the souls sweet?" I asked.
"No, we made all the souls sweet!"
"What do you mean?!" I wasn't ready to take that kind of responsibility!
"Let me tell you a story...so there was this one Being all by herself. She didn't mind being alone, but decided it would be fun if there were more of her kind. So she split herself into many parts (and here is the real fun part), she made all the other parts forget her!
Ok, ok, you are old enough to know the truth. I am that Being mentioned in the story; and you, my fab friend, are me too. You have just (quite conveniently) forgotten who you are, and are on an epic and unique quest to find out that you are me! Isn't that just the most marvelous plan?"
"Uh... uh..argg..." I managed to say.
"Yes, it is!" she answered herself.
"So... so... " I stuttered, "What is the secret?"
"I ... I ...I .. " she imitated me, "just told it to you!"
"It can't be that simple!" I almost shouted, "There have been volumes written about how to .. how to .. get on your good side.."
"Surprise! You are already on my good side and ... ," she leaned close to me and whispered, "I guess you can be entrusted with this knowledge - I don't really have a bad side."
Now I was furious. Surely all the spiritual stuff I did made me .... well... better then .. say my shallow and petty, party-obsessed sister?! It had to! She did nothing remotely spiritual! And I, on the other hand, did deep things - like reading, meditating, and philosophizing.
"Your sister is such a sweet soul! All the stuff she does is just her way of singing Wow! Life is awesome!" she injected into my thoughts. "Tornado is saying the same thing by counting sand grains."
I sat there staring at her. Could this be true? Could it be so simple and easy?
The Hot One pointed to a group of kids playing in the sand. Their grandma (presumably) sat a bit away watching with a perpetual smile on her face, "So what do you think granny wants her kids to do on the beach?"
I stared at the scene for a while as gradually it began to dawn on me - I turned to the Hot One, "You just want us to experience different things .. and have fun .. creative fun. No matter what we do, you are pleased."
"Yes!" the Hot One exclaimed, "You are getting it, kiddo! I watch (quite blissfully, I might add) everything you do. You know how a baby starts baby-step walking, and goo-goo talking, the mother always goes ga-ga. But if you really think about it, walking is not much of an accomplishment, because almost everyone does it eventually. I look at you in the same way, and get goose bumps (well, formless ones) whenever you do something creative and passionate - I don't care if it's a Mona Lisa or a stick-figure - I go ga-ga over it."
"But" my mind refused to accept this simple truth, "what about the hurt and pain we go through? I mean..."
She pointed out at a couple of guys playing Volleyball. Just then one of them dove and took a pretty bad spill (I'm sure she had something to do with it) and completely tore up his shirt (again I'm sure she did that too - shirts don't usually get torn up playing beach Volleyball, because guys are not usually wearing them). He lay there for a while, sat up, grinned, stripped his shirt off, and put on a new one. Then he got up and began playing again.
"The soul doesn't really get hurt, the body it’s wearing does, and you get to change it when it gets really messed up."
We sat there in silence - I think I understood. I looked around and started seeing everything quite differently – When I quit judging, everybody looked quite interesting - in fact, they looked downright awesome!
"Wow!" I said after getting awed-over with everything, 'Life is awesome!!!"
read next part...
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