Chapter 10: Remembering The Past, The Boy And A Rainbow Car

 Before the boy's sister was toddling, before she was a person, the boy himself was a toddling child getting into all sorts of mischief and mayhem.  The boy was a wanderer, he was the type of child that did not know that sitting still was a thing.  He could be found in any location attached to the property or even an adjacent strip of land or dwelling that he could manage to meander into.  An occurrence that was often the dilemma of the Mother.  The many letters that follow a child's name today as a manner of diagnosing the reasons for the meandering and not acknowledging the sitting still part of life had not been invented yet, the boy was a seeker, a finder of things unknown to human eyes.

There was a stream on the back side of the property that spilled into a small lake.  The lake had trees and grew around a small beach of white sand that the family would enjoy swimming from and have an occasional picnic.  The property was an oasis in the middle of the northern expanse of the Great American Desert.  For miles around the land was brown and dry in the summer, and cold and frozen in the winter. but on the property hay grew green, the trees reached for the sky, and wildlife would commune and flourish.  It was a small piece of heaven that The Old Man and Grandma had been working for generations with Mom and Dad and the boy helping as family should. 

The boy was wandering.  No one was sure this time how long he had been gone.  It could be the manner of minutes or hours.  He was supposed to be napping.  Apparently the boy had ditched a diaper, grabbed his favorite blanket and crawled prowled out the back door of Winston, this was before the Bel Aire had been added to the front.  

A massive search was begun.  Grandma was looking, Mother was panicking, Dad was walking toward the back side of the property, and The Old Man was chuckling and grooming his roan.  A reddish brown mare that loved the attention.  After he finished giving the horse the attention she thrived The Old Man put his brushes and comb away then walked towards the back of the main barn.  It was getting dark.  

In the barn The Old Man could hear some shuffling and giggling coming from up above the floor.  He flicked the light switch and the barn opened up to him.  The stalls in front where all empty, the horses were out in the field running.  The back of the barn was dark with saddles and tac lining rows of hooks and hangers.  Then he heard a giggle and looked up.  The boy was standing high over head looking down at The Old Man, arms stretched out.  The Old Man chuckled and stepped towards the opening under the second floor of the barn. He smiled up and the boy who then jumped and fell into The Old Man's arms.   A game they had played before.  The boy was not afraid, he was happy. 

The Old Man carried the boy back to Winston and waited for the rest of the search party.  He redressed the boy and gave him some warm cereal.  The boy smiled and drooled as he ate his snack.  The world was good.  The rest of the family was not as happy at the boy which was a source of amusement for The Old Man.  He knew, the boy was just like him.

As the summer progressed the boy would occasionally wander and bring back treasures from his walks.  Colored rocks, funny shaped sticks, and a puppy.  The Mother was unsure, the Dad was ok, Grandma had a questioning look, and The Old Man picked up the puppy, "Where's your mother little fella?"  The puppy was a runt wolf pup.  

Dad left to go search and came back a short time latter.  "The mother is dead," he said.  "Looks like she's been shot."  Wolves are usually not appreciated by the neighbors.  Fortunately the closest neighbor is miles away.  Grandma took the puppy and began cleaning it up.  He turned out to be a loyal pet. 

It was the beginning of August now and the boy was was again wandering.  He managed to walk to the back of the main stall area of the horse barns.  The lights in the stalls were off, but the boy could see.  He could see a rainbow.  It was coming down from the sky in the middle of the field.  The lights covered every thing he could see.  The rainbow was soft and warm, the boy was happy.  After awhile he could hear some music and voices.  Someone was talking to him, they were asking him his name and where he came from.  Things that people would ask a lost child.  One of the voices, a lady with a soft sing song voice, picked the boy up and carried him into a large car.  Inside the car the rainbow was all around and the music could be heard everywhere.  The boy smiled up at the lady, who looked like sparkling lights.  He could hear the motor running, a high whine.  He could feel himself moving in the car.  There was another voice, his was lower, but soft.  The music kept playing and the car stopped.  

The lady carried the boy out of the car and put him down on some soft grass.  The boy knew where he was.  The voice said, "Wait here, they'll be here to take you home soon."  She brushed his hair out of his face and disappeared.  The boy saw the car back away then fly straight up into a cloud followed by the rainbow.  He was alone on a small hill in the grass.  

The boy didn't know how long he was there, he didn't know about time yet, but he heard his Mother's voice, then Dad's, and Grandma's, finely The Old Man, he was laughing.  They found him on the hill and took him back to the house on the rise in front of a lake.  This was not the same lake on the property it was a lake 250 miles away next to the house of Dad's cousin in Billings Heights.  No one knows how the boy got there, but the boy was happy.

Peace and Balance,

John

 

Chapter 5: A Short Ride, Fishing, And Blue People

 The family lived in a couple single wide trailers that stood about 15 feet apart at the front of the property.  One was a fancy model, a Bel Aire that had a lowered floor and raised roof over the living room area.  And a trailer that the Old Man called Winston.  It was never revealed why, Winston, but the name stuck.  

The Old Man, and Grandma lived in Winston, while Mom, Dad, the boy and toddling girl lived in the Bel Aire.  It was a good arraignment.  The boy was free to wander from trailer to trailer at will. Occasionally with the toddling one in tow, more times not.  Grandma always had goodies at the ready just in case raiding parties of wayward teens showed up at the door.  The boy and his friends were in constant battle with factions of invisible 7th, 8th, and 9th cavalries.  The boy always used the Old Man's US Cavalry tach as proof of victory of many battles.  The raiding parties always succeeded in counting many coup on the invisible horde.  The end of the battle always signaled snack time.  Grandma was always ready. 

Parked next to the garage was the Old Man's truck.  A Peterbilt tractor that was fully loaded with climate control and a sleeper in the back of the cab.  During the summer the boy would either sleep out in the open under the stars or in the Old Man's sleeper if he wasn't out on the road.  During his driving career the Old Man had contracts with two companies, United Van Lines, and Mayflower.  The Old Man owned his truck, but would change the paint depending on which company was hiring his business.  Mom was seen once repainting the lines on the doors of the truck from green/blue and gold to orange.  She just said, "the Old Man switched companies." Again. 

Because he actually owned his truck he was considered Independent,  always a source of chuckling from Grandma, and the Old Man.  It seems the only truly independent man died a couple thousand years ago and every one since has been reliant.  The joke was over the boy's head. Independent trucking is an illusion.

In the morning early, the Old Man woke the boy and said he was going on a run and the boy needed to get out of the sleeper.  Grabbing his blanket and pillow the boy headed to the bench seat in front of Winston to lay back down.  The sun wasn't even thinking about coming back up yet.  Sometimes the Old Man had a strange sense of humor.  On his way out of the truck The Old Man told the boy to take care of his sister, and watch the clouds at night if  he  decided to sleep out. The skies are unpredictable. Then he got in his truck, fired her up, and drove off taking a right at the end of the driveway and headed down the dirt road to the highway.  He had a trailer to pick up and deliver somewhere in Wyoming.  He would be gone about a week.  The boy waved and went back to sleep.  The bench was pretty comfortable.  It had a quilted mattress that was just long enough for him to stretch out.  Later in the morning as the sun decided to make an appearance the boy was awoke by the smell of breakfast as Grandma was holding a plate under his nose saying softly, "Get up and eat.  Then go feed the horses and milk Bessy."  Every milk cow Grandma owned was named Bessy.  This was actually Bessy number 4, and she wasn't as young as she looked. 

After doing the chores, and finding out that the toddling one was with Mom for the day, The boy packed a bag, grabbed a sleeping bag, saddled Pacos, his horse, and trotted out to the back forty.  The back forty acres of the property had running through the middle of it a nice bubbling stream, to big to be a brook, and a set of large White Birch trees that offered shade.  To one of the trees was set a hook that made a convenient place to hang a fishing rod.  A box at the foot of the tree with a supply of crawlers was kept to bait the hook.  From the back of the saddle the boy unwrapped a mesh net and hung a hammock between the two large trees.  He stocked a campfire, grabbed the rod, baited the hook, cast the line out into the stream.  Setting the pole between a few rocks the boy jumped into his hammock and stared up at the sky listening to the water, birds, and breeze, then slept.  Zen in action.

A little bell woke the boy up.  He looked over at his pole and noticed it was bending at the pull of the water.  The bell tied to the top of the pole was ringing, a sign that he had caught a fish.  He jumped down and checked his line, yes indeed there was a fish on the other end.  He waged a short battle and reeled in what appeared to be a nice rainbow trout.  The boy was pleased with his catch.  He looked up checking on Pacos and said to the horse, "Look, I caught one."  Pacos just snorted and put his head back down in the short grass and nibbled.  The boy got the impression that the horse didn't care one way or the other.  Horses just aren't into fish.  

The boy cleaned the fish and liberated a cast iron skillet he found tied to the back of the other tree.  Throwing a couple more sticks onto the fire he found a small bottle of olive oil in his pack and poured a small amount in the skillet and put it on the coals.  Letting the pan get hot he put the boned and cleaned fish in the pan and started frying dinner.  After eating the fish he noticed the sun was sitting low on the horizon.  Pacos was drinking from the stream.  It was time for bed. He jumped into the hammock and watched the darkness come.  The stars were bright, the breeze was light he was tired.  

The boy felt someone tapping on his shoulder.  He was dreaming and told the toddler to go back to bed.  Again there was a tapping on his shoulder, this time followed by a light tug on his big toe.  The boy finely began waking up and looked in the direction of the campfire.  The fire was out, but he could see the red glow of the embers.  In the glow he saw a shadow.  He couldn't quite figure the shadow out it didn't make sense he had come here alone.  The shadow looked like a small person somewhere between the toddling girls size and his own.  That would be about 5 feet tall.  This was all happening in his head as his conscious mind finely kicked in.  Then he heard it.  

There was a soft voice just over his right shoulder.  He looked in the direction of the voice and saw a soft blue glow.  Standing in the glow was a short girl.  She was wearing a blue jump suit and had what looked like light blue skin.  Her hair was a dark and he noticed she had very large dark eyes.  She looked like she might be about his age.  Then he heard the voice again, this time in his head, "Hello." 

The boy was confused and tried to get out of the hammock.  He landed with a thud.  "Ooof." Followed by an, "Are you ok?" in his head again.  

He stood up and said, "I'm ok."  Then he saw the other one.  A boy a little taller than the girl petting Pacos' mane and rubbing his shoulder.  The horse nuzzled the boy and blew out.  He only does that when he's happy.  

"Holly shit! What the Hell is going on!"  The boy began to panic.  

Then he heard the voice in his head again, "It's ok.  No one's is going to hurt you.  We're friends."  Then the soft blue light became comfortably warm, and the boy was calm.  Pacos trotted away.

He heard another voice, "My name is Marcus, her's is Leta."  

The boy thought his name, but before he could answer he heard, "Pleased to meet you. We can hear your thoughts. We have something to show you."

The soft blue light became brighter, and brighter.  Then on the horizon he saw a disc coming toward him getting larger and larger the closer is came.  Before he could react straight over his head was a huge circular object glowing blue and making unusual music that sounded very much like something the Mammas and the Pappas would play, or even the Association.  The boy had a complete feeling of joy come over him in a rush.

He woke up riding Pacos on his way back to the horse barn.  He looked around him and everything was with him, and even looked like he hadn't even used it.  He arrived and unloaded the horse, brushed him down, fed him some oats, hay, and gave him a bucket of water and left him in the coral with the gate to his stall open so he could wander in and out as usual.  The boy was still feeling very happy, but didn't know why.  

When he returned to Winston he found the Old Man waiting for him.  How long had he been fishing?  The Old Man smiled then winked at him and asked, "How was the trip?"  

Peace and Balance,

John

  

Every Kid Needs A Tractor.

 There is a certain meditative solstice that accompanies mowing of a nice lawn.  The tractor makes a humming that can put the mind in an altered state of consciousness.  When hearing protection is applied the engine sound becomes a quieter roar.  This roar brings the operator into a meditative mind which gives the meditator calmness and answers to mysterious questions.  Questions of the like, "What kind of pattern should I drive into the lawn today?  Important subjects like that.

While riding the tractor around the yard my ear buds are entertaining me and educating me with the wisdom of Sadhguru, an Indian mystic and yogi who's teachings and books have been read and absorbed world wide by millions of readers and listeners.  He is both entertaining and humorous.  His light whited take on the world can amuse as well as enlighten.  He matches well with the droning of the lawn tractor engine.  

Having the ability to attain an altered state within a breath or two is a plus while mowing the lawn and listening to Sadhguru.  The patterns of the lawn become the simple man's mandala.  Tracing and retracing the patterns in a rhythmic course puts the mind, that is not my mind, in connection with the celestial everything.  Connection with nature brings us closer to who we are.  Even if it's just my yard.

Every kid, me included, should have a tractor to drive around a yard.  A good set of earplugs is a must to protect from excess noise as well as entertain, and bringing the creative juices to bear in the mowed patterns of intellect can bring the kid in us all closer to the adult that we are.  Balance is achieved, and the lawn looks good to...

Peace and Balance,

John

    

Shangri-La

 In the heart of Kunlun, in the mountains of Tibet, the Great Himalia hide Shangri-La who's streets are paved with gold and monks practice sacred dances upon every rising sun.  There is no war here, no fear, only peace.  However, in order to know peace there has to be a memory of chaos to give peace an understanding.

Traveling to Shangri-La may have it's hazards however.  Once we arrive are we going to be set free?  Interesting choice of words I know, but logic tells me that once we've found Nirvana there is no going back, and traveling to Shangri-La may be a self imposed prison. 

A close friend told me once that in matters of enlightenment when you open that door the door disappears and there is no going back.  Sort of like saying that once you learn something there is never unlearning it.  When you walk the streets of Shangri-La can you un-walk the streets?  How would you forget golden streets?

The heart of Kunlun, in the mountains of Tibet, the Himalia hide Shangri-La the mystical city of peace, wonder, and enlightenment.  Where Nirvana can be attained but never escaped and the monks become the keepers.  Is this where you want to be? 

I only partially stole this idea from, "Lost Horizon" by James Hilton.  Is it an experience or is it a myth?

Peace and Balance,

John

Enlightened man? Clear explanation about this given byJ.Krishnamurti