All my life I was getting into trouble... the cops were called in.  I was chastised and returned like a small annoying fish to a pond.  One day I guess I went too far and  I was eventually removed from the pond, the city life, and I was taken up into a spaceship planet above the Earth where I could be supervised. 

The policeman was friendly enough, he walked with me explaining this new community, from the corner of my eye I saw my cat Neptune walking amongst bookshelves...

In this new community  that resembled a beautiful small island, lived many types of people from all over the world.  The grass was lush, small huts and gardens embraced the near shoreline. 

Children played with each other, children from all over the world, natives from India, and Peru, and China, and many places I simply did not recognize, but I did not feel a part of their games; I was alone.

I felt shunned by them all for what I had done on the planet below, and one day I saw some monks having some kind of a ceremony and I quietly snuck in and sat down in the back, hoping I could be accepted by them, but one noticed me right away and made me leave, giving me angry condemning looks all the while. 

Whenever I saw them they gave me dirty looks, but all I wanted was to... I didn't know what I wanted, and they shooed me away again and again. 

Time passed, feeling despondent, sad, alone, unwanted, when I went down to the shore to just get away from it all, the water was beautifully clear, shallow, and rocks glistened below the surface of the water like treasure, it was stunning and... suddenly a small girl no more than six years old ran into the water right in front of me and was hit by a bus and killed instantly; I cried out profoundly at the loss of this innocent child. 

I bowed my head, unable to rise for some time before turning back to the shore.  From this point on I didn't care whether I was unwanted,  I didn't care that the communities ostracized me.  I didn't care about anything anymore, my view of everything had been changed. I understood how the small thoughtless actions in my life had hurt others, and I knew I could not live like that anymore. 

When I saw the monks again a long while later they were all in a row singing, some new ceremony had commenced.  I figured they still didn't want me around, and I received more condemning stares, but this time I did not judge them, I did not feel hurt by them, they did not sting, the loss of that child forever stained upon my heart, I did not want anything anymore except perhaps to be free of the suffering for what I had done to deserve their condemnation, and to atone for making so many people's lives so hard for so many years.  I came closer, and before I knew it they had moved in a circle around me, but not for me, with me, and I found myself standing before the leader of their community... it was then I understood, they had been waiting for me to want to change, and I had come home.

You can expect a two-way street, but don't expect both lanes to be going the same speed.

Ravel was composing movie soundtracks before movies did, like one who writes music for instruments that don't yet exist. If the soul cannot think without action, then classical music is its reflection.

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This week I messaged my ex with the same two lines I spoke to her on the day we met, and perhaps it's fitting to end things the same way in which they began, or perhaps we could simply start over? They say in love there are no rules, sweetheart. I honestly don't know where to go from here, is there a way forward for the two of us, sometimes it is only in silence that one finds the words to say, and the feelings that sunk deep find clear waters and shine forth in the light of day.

~*~

"Most of the shadows of this life are caused by standing in our own sunshine" ~Emerson

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Listening to Haydn Symphony No. 26 in Dminor "Lamentatione"

It really is true what they say: Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone. But I have found even in my moments of deepest despair that one becomes attuned to a different voice, perhaps it is not the voice of the world but the voice of history, for history is always with us, dancing in our blood, singing through our bones, and truly I say, we are never really alone.