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October 18, 2005What if he just got tired and quit?All this God and Virgin Mary, all this marketing. All I can think of is a short story by Bach. There was a Master come unto earth, born in the holy land of Indiana, raised in the mystical hills of East Wayne. The Master learned of this world in the public schools of Indiana, and as he grew, in his trade of a mechanic of automobiles. But the Master had learnings from other lands and other schools, from other lives that he had lived. He remembered these, and remembering became wise and strong, so that others saw his strength and came to him for counsel. The Master believed that he had power to help himself and all mankind, and as he believed so it was for him, so that others saw his power and came to him to be healed of their troubles and their many diseases. The Master believed that it was well for any man to think upon himself as a son of God, and as he believed, so it was, and the shops and garages where he worked became crowded and jammed with those who sought his learning and his touch, and the streets outside with those who longed only that the shadow of his passing might fall upon them, and change their lives. It came to pass, because of the crowds, that the several foremen and shop managers bid the Master to leave his tools and go his way, for so tightly was he thronged that neither he nor other mechanics had room to work upon the automobiles. So it was that he went into the countryside, and people following began to call him Messiah, and worker of miracles; and as they believed, it was so. If a storm passed as he spoke, not a raindrop touched the listeners head; the last of the multitude heard his words as clearly as the first, no matter lightening nor thunder in the sky about. And always he spoke to them in parables. And he said unto them, "within each of us lies the power of our consent to health and sickness, to riches and to poverty, to freedom and to slavery. It is we who control these, and not another." A mill-man spoke and said, "easy words for you, Master, for you are guided as we are not, and need not toil as we toil. A man has to work for his living in this world." The Master answered and said, "Once there lived a village of creatures along the bottom of a great crystal river. The current of the river swept silently over them all - young and old, rich and poor, good and evil, the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self. Each creature in its own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current what each had learned from birth. But one creature said at last, 'I am tired of clinging. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, I trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and let it take me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom.' The other creatures laughed and said, 'Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you tumble and smashed across the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom.' But the one heeded them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed by the current across the rocks. Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more. And the creatures downstream, to whom he was a stranger cried, 'See a miracle! A creature like ourselves, yet he flies! See the Messiah, come to save us all! And the one carried in the current said, 'I am no more a Messiah than you. The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure.' But they cried the more, 'Savior!' all the while clinging to the rocks, and when they looked again he was gone, and they were left alone making legends of a Savior. And it came to pass when he saw that the multitude thronged him the more day on day, tighter and closer and fiercer than ever they had, when he saw that they pressed him to heal them without rest, and feed them always with his miracles, to learn for them and to live their lives, he went alone that day unto a hilltop apart, and there he prayed. And he said in his heart, Infinite Radiant Is, if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me, let me lay aside this impossible task. And a voice spoke to him on the hilltop, a voice neither male nor female, loud nor soft, a voice infinitely kind. And the voice said unto him, "Not my will, but thine be done. For what is thy will is mine for thee. Go thy way as other men, and be thou happy on the earth." And hearing the Master was glad, and gave thanks, and came down from the hilltop humming a little mechanics song. And when the thronged pressed him with its woes, beseeching him to heal for it and learn for it and feed it nonstop from his understanding and to entertain it with his wonders, he smiled upon the multitude and said pleasantly unto them, "I quit." For a moment the multitude was stricken dumb with astonishment. And he said unto them, "If a man told God that he wanted most of all to help the suffering world, no matter the price to himself, and God answered and told him what he must do, should the man do as he is told?" "Of course Master!" cried the many. "It should be pleasure for him to suffer the tortures of hell itself, should God ask it!" "No matter what these tortures, nor how difficult the task?" "Honor to be hanged, glory to be nailed to a tree and burned, if so be that God has asked, " said they. "And what would you do," the Master said unto the multitude, "if God spoke directly to your face and said, 'I COMMAND THAT YOU BE HAPPY IN THE WORLD AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.' What would you do then?" And the multitude was silent, not a voice not a sound was heard upon the hillsides, across the valleys where they stood. And the Master said unto the silence, "In the path of our happiness shall we find the learning for which we have chosen this lifetime. So it is that I have learned this day, and choose to leave you now to walk your own path, as you please." And he went his way through the crowds and left them, and he returned to the everyday world of men and machines. Posted by Julian Cook at 08:19 AM | Comments (9) October 08, 2005PalermoMap placeholder Why you'll have to buy the book Posted by Julian Cook at 01:48 PM | Comments (0) October 07, 2005PompeiMap placeholder. Used for mapping. Stories from here will be in the book Why you'll have to buy the book Posted by Julian Cook at 01:44 PM | Comments (0) October 06, 2005Riomaggiore, a vacation of sortsRiomaggiore looks exactly like you think mediterranean Italy looks like. Sheer rocky cliffs right up to the edge of the sea make for some dramatic scenery. Boxy buildings are painted in complementary earth tones of weather worn red and yellow and all of them have green shutters. ALL of them. Terra cotta shingles cover every building and most have wrought iron balconies with rope clotheslines attached via rusty pulleys. My specialized cycling clothes are drying on the clothes line adding a touch of high tech to otherwise countless flapping pillow cases, trousers and underwear of every size. Riomaggiore was alive on this day with children running in the streets and shopkeepers putting their produce out for purchase under striped awnings. I was high above all of this at 42 Dolce Posta which is about 30 feet straight up from 1 Dolce Posta. There are no level streets in Riomaggiore and Dolce Posta like many streets here is nothing more than a twisty staircase winding it's way skyward between buildings. 42 Dolce Posta is the very top and the upside, if you don't me saying so, is that I can look out of the green shutters at the beautiful Ligurian Sea which seemed like it had a great big burr on it's bottom. The coastline here is smooth polished rock both behemoth and miniscule in scale. Standing on the big rocks the waves didn't seem very big, but it was not the wave size I should have been concerned about: it was the current. I decided to go for a swim behind the break at Spaggia Beach and no sooner had I gotten wet that I realized my mistake. Gasping for breath and sucking in copious amount of remarkably salty water, it was all I could do to stand up. The tide would come in and I would go with the flow only to have the tide to knock my legs right out from under me. It was more annoying than life threatening. Faced with trying again or just merely relaxing, I decided to just take it easy. Carefully traversing the rocks, I sat down and ate some olives wrapped with sardines and then I dived into some lobster meat Still squinting from the tartness I cracked open a Peroni beer and fired up a Cuban Cohiba. It all sounds remarkably relaxing and it was. It may comes as shock to many of you that I actually am working while I am traveling. Typically I have to figure out what I am going to do with my day and then, obviously, I have to do it. Between the mission statement and the accomplishment there lie many steps. First I have to figure out where I am staying once I get to where I am headed. Next comes the train ride and making my way from the train station or ferry port to the hotel or hostel where I have to check in using a language that I don't even speak. Then there are the details of actually doing what it is that you, dear reader, expect me to do to hopefully keep you coming back for more. As of this writing I am in Palermo, Sicily and I am wearing blisters given to me by Paris, France. My hiking boots fell apart in Nice and the shoes I bought there bit the dust one week later in Naples. Shoes and boots die fast when you are packing an extra 60 pounds on your back. Mundane things like laundry, allocating money and trying to figure out where to buy anti-perspirant become major ordeals on a journey like this. Then there are hazards to watch out for. You know about Snowden and the Belfast rioting, but there have been other problems. Securing valuable gear every night is a major chore and just being plain vigilant takes effort. Italy is a good example. Nobody and I mean NOBODY can run a scam like the Italians. Pompei has free bathroooms, yet there are men who are discreetly taking money from tourists who don't know better. One lady asked "Can I have change" and the guy said "We don't give change". You have to pay to pee everywhere in this country so I can see how you get taken and obviously these guys do too. It's the beginning of the train ride where you really have to be careful. I have a Eurail pass and I don't usually make reservations. On Eurail trains you can take seats 71 through 83 without having to make reservations and in first class these seats are divided between two glass enclosed compartments. In Naples I boarded the train and sat down when two men told me I needed to move to the compartment behind me. They looked official enough so I did. One of the men then lifted my backpack and brought it back to the compartment. I said thanks and they demanded a tip so I gave one of men three Euros. He then said "No, five euros!" and then I realized it was a scam. I took out a five euro note and motioned for them to give me back the three euros. Once I had the money safely back in hand I started ranting and raving random Italian words and phrases at them with flailing hand gestures. Sensing a psycho in their midst they shuffled off to the car behind me. Frankly my time in Naples, which is one of the dirtiest cities on the planet, and the attempted scams on my person, conspired to drive Italy to the bottom of the pile of places I enjoyed being. This is yet another job: keeping proper perspective when you really just want to dislike everything and everybody. It's easier to dismiss an entire country, it's people and thousands of years of rich heritage instead of taking responsibility for your own happiness. I realized how much of a big deal I was making out of pondering someone's else actions and karma. There are few things more pointless. So there you are! Ironically, I realize finishing this dispatch up that I have taken a vacation of sorts myself from my usual flowery prose but it was bound to happen. The tide of being entertaining and thoughtful are sometimes hard to swim in and I reckon I have sat on the beach for this dispatch. Now if you'l excuse me there is a Peroni and a Cohiba waiting for me. Why you'll have to buy the book Posted by Julian Cook at 12:06 PM | Comments (4) EarthKora Archives | EarthKora Gallery | Legal and Copyright Info |
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