GurnBlanston

Or even Donald Shimoda.

A bit more of a heavy read by him was "A Bridge Across Forever". It was more about relationships and falling in Love. I didn't care for the follow up to that one called "One".

I read Illusions while in seminary school. It was my fav read at the time.

mentor

I read it while at Berkeley while studying human evolution and it was one of my favorites at the time too I'll look int Shimoda. Another book which was particularly inspirational to me back in those days was Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig.

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Now the hard work begins...

GurnBlanston

Shimoda was the name of the Reluctant Messiah in Illusions.

mentor

Duh. I knew that once. I still love the idea of the Reluctant Messiah. I think there is a little bit of him in all of us.

You could have pm'd me that little bit of information and saved me some embarrassment. I did start a thread centering on Bach after all. But now your previous post makes perfect sense.

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Now the hard work begins...

GurnBlanston

Sorry. I just didn't even think about PM'ing.

mentor

NP! I deserved it

I just watched "The Guardian" last night. It's yet another example of the Saviour story. It's a great story and we tell it a million ways. But certain groups would like us to believe they have the one true version and they own the rights to it. They must work for Satan if you believe in such things. Fortunately for me, I don't. But I still get the meaning of the story.

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cheapseats

But what if, over Time…


ROLLIN' ON THE RIVER: Part 1, 7/16/08

From the instant that one of their Own released himself completely from ties to the provincial sphere of his origin, the Rocks who remained in place were cognizant of…they didn’t know WHAT to call it. It was unprecedented. They had no frame of reference to even name it, much less define it. But something had definitely happened, and they had born witness. They could not simply pretend they had not seen what they had seen...they weren’t stupid.

Not in their good-natured teasing of one another, not even in their ill-tempered taunting of one another did they hurl the damning simile: dumb as a box of Rocks. Rocks might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but, then, Rocks seldom find themselves in need of Tools.

Some Tools, on the other hand, would have no function but for Rocks…the Tools need the Rocks, not the other way around. Rocks aplenty have stood the test of Time...not so, Tools. Rocks can’t be THAT stupid.

They were Safe, for starters. Bored, maybe…catty/gossipy/covetous, probably. They were provincial…how could they NOT be? They had never left the spot where they started.

They were also insecure…literally, as evidenced by having to hang on so tightly…which breeds and fosters Fear. Being literally insecure and fearful, while hanging on for dear life, in a small town environment that was long on idle and ideological chatter but short on experiential depth and meaning…well, it’s enough to mess with any Rock’s Inner Pebble. They were insecure at their core...literally and figuratively, elementally and essentially, body and soul.

The Rocks knew that one of their Own had let go, but they did not know whether the One lived or whether, surviving, it had moved from the frying pan into the fire. Except submerged Rocks are unfamiliar with Fire. Likewise are they unacquainted with green versus greener pastures. Bottom line, the Rocks who had born witness did not know whether the liberated One was better or worse off than they were. They wanted a guarantee.

Even amongst those who witnessed the same Event, the perceptions and interpretations…which molded into their Beliefs…were not entirely in accord with one another. Their variant memories and analyses, and their differing opinions and beliefs, were the source of not a few squabbles among them, some of which inflated into long-standing feuds of striking combustibility.

Whatever their differences, though, whatever happened, whatever changed, whatever it meant, it began with one of their Own. They were the Source, the Origin.


* * * *


ROLLIN’ ON THE RIVER: Part 2, 7/25/08

Meanwhile, down river, another assembly of stick-in-the-mud stones moved right along…without budging…interpreting their perceptions and analyzing their opinions and refining their beliefs about Life, the Universe, Events, and Themselves.

Much like the upstream counterparts of whom they remained conscientiously oblivious…for they found it disagreeable and vaguely threatening to ponder that the rock that had rolled to legend in their own time was merely a chip off an older block…they resolutely committed themselves to motionlessness, tenaciously rooting themselves in their preordained positions.

As Eye Witnesses of the exultant appearance, rapturous words and glorious transcendence of the One who had chosen to skip through their midst and speak to them, their renditions of the Coming, also the Going, of the Savior were narrower and their codifications of it more authoritative. Quite authoritative, considering there was more than one of them.

They brooked no great host of opinion, they entertained no enthusiastic choir of questions…whatever their differences on fine point in finer print, overall they forged a core camaraderie predicated on the heady knowledge that they were, collectively, The Chosen Ones.

The clarity of their Beliefs was crystal, and quite beautiful to contemplate. Crystal clear and beautiful to behold, but plural, devilry being found in the fine points and finer print of Details.

At a mineral level…rock bottom…even a rock recognizes that everyone cannot be right. Like crystal, then, their beliefs were delicate, rigid and easily shattered, in consequence of which they tended to keep their Beliefs high upon a shelf for prominent but safe display, only dusting them off as needed for Special Occasions like weddings and elections.

Except submerged rocks don’t know from dust…what gathered and glossed over their Beliefs was wetter and slipperier, more akin to slime. Even so, paying lip service to beliefs that no one could grab hold of was not only spiritually satisfying but emotionally convenient, promoting a generalized sense of security from and superiority to any other class of rocks, upstream or down, before or after.

Meanwhile, even further down river…

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