All's Right With The World

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The presence of love... a happy garden

Many years ago, a friend of mine
She died a while back...

Got heavily involved in Vaastu... the Indian equivalent of Feng Shui

There were so many things going "wrong" in her life

Suddenly... it all piled up

The latest being her husband dying and she being diagnosed with a terminal illness herself

Fear had set in... and in her efforts to control life she got involved in this Vaastu business... corrections made to her house....!

This wall was broken down... that one added... and on and on and on... her house began to resemble a rubble dump, every time I visited her

No amount of trying to talk her out of it, or assuage her fear, worked... she was adamantly determined

It went on for months... in the meanwhile the Vaastu consultant and the building contractor... laughing all the way to the bank

The whole project costing her an arm and a leg

On one visit to her place, I became aware of the beehive of activity

Labourers, singing, carrying brick and mortar on their heads

Their squealing children, delightfully playing slide on the mounds of sand

The youngest ones, crawling all over her garden lawns, tearing up the flower beds

Yet I hadn't seen a happier garden, or more beautiful flowers than those naked little ragamuffin babies

My friend joyfully, making endless cups of tea for all the workers... and patiently listening to all their woes

The electricians and plumbers... gainfully employed in their skills

Suddenly... not a thing seemed out of place

Not even any methods or practices
Nor any means that were deployed
Thereof
And not at all for the reasons we think
Nor for any imaginary benefits...

Nothing separate
There simply are no separate things
To decry

Life does itself
Like this
Achy breaky heart and all

Unfettered thought stream...
A mind unleashed at the beach
Wild horses running on the prairie

All was right with her world

And the money she was spending... immaterial

It ain't always about the money, honey

Even fear is not out of place
In a conceptualised "perfect" world maybe

There's no right or wrong way to be

Constant self judgement
Or even judging another
Can be a pain in the ***

Yet even that's there, when it is

Arising spontaneously
All of apiece

Life turns up, looking and feeling like anything at all

Insides turned out... no hiding places left

I have pooh-poohed, much in my lifetime

Tears

And felt derision at others' choices and beliefs

All the while life doing itself
Perfectly.....!

Showing me up
Faulting life for how it looked

My own beliefs in how life "should" look like

Saying here I am

Looking like this

See

And now... more tears

There is simply no right or wrong way to be

Look at little babies

I see my 5 grandchildren
And cannot find a single thing out of place

The paradigm shifts

From the conflict centred, fear driven
Old saga of a personal Armageddon

Eyes wiped clean in a deluge of pearly tears

And freshly sees

Life... love and beauty looking upon itself

This unicity

It was always, on
Just never noticed

I can no more tell the difference
Between foolish and wise

Nor ascribe to any of the above mentioned posturing...

And even this is posturing...
Hahaha....
No getting away is there...

Anything anyone says is a concept
Including me
Including this
That it's a concept

More tears now

And even the memories of love... ever fresh
Warms the cockles of my heart

And brings love back up again
And again

And again

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