One of the things I particularly dislike about change is how deceptive the word is: "Change" is a very nice and comfortable sounding word...soft, gentle, and easy on the ears. Very much UNlike the effects its actions have upon us. Perhaps "Chank" would be a better word for it--at least it would feel less deceptive to me that way. Honestly, though, that wouldn't help me like it any better.
I do believe I inherited my distaste for change from my Earth mother, and this is no insult. My Earth mother is without question the most perfect Earth mother I could ever have hoped for: filled with love, compassion, kindness, and a deep sense of empathy. And she gratefully taught me these things as well. So I am indeed a lucky dude, and will always be grateful to the best of my abilities. But see, Mom and I, we very much cherish order and routines in our lives. It's not uncommon for us to know what time we'll go to bed this coming Saturday, and what we'll have for lunch a week from Tuesday. We might even know weeks in advance when we'll be calling in sick to work. This system, of course, works perfectly...until change decides to invade our safe spaces again...which it has a terrible habit of doing with far too much regularity. Perhaps change enjoys its order and routines even better than Mom and I?An endless battle, it seems.
People, places, and objects come in and out of our lives all the time for any myriad reasons. Often we never even fully understand why they became a part of our lives to begin with, let alone why they left us--or even how. We can learn to accept this, yes, but it's rarely easy. And often tremendously scary--at least to people like Mom and I. The simple and tragic fact is that every single thing in our lives we've learned to cherish will someday no longer be a part of our lives--not in a material sense, anyway. We can't even hold on to memories, much as we try...for they often grow wings and flutter away into the beyond.
One of the reasons I began these stories so many years ago was to create a safe place inside my imagination that could never go away...a place that could only ever experience change if I decided to allow it--in my own time and way. I was mistaken once again, of course. My Sacred Garden stories have endured nearly as much change as the earthly realm, and often NOT in my own time and way. Much of it very painful, and undesired. Again, an endless battle. But not always sad...
You see, aside from my Earth mom, I also have a story mom--as the result of the comforts of my own imagination. Her name is Bbaesh, though I call her my Sweet Mama Bbaesh. ["Bbaesh" in the ancient Xanaduvian language translates into English as "Mother of Mankind"] She is based upon an earthly-realm-Twitter-friend that many of you know as Tawny Kitaen. Like my Earth Mom, she is filled with love, kindness, compassion, and a tremendous sense of empathy...and she has taught myself--and many others--all that and more. Again, I am so grateful. Sweet Mama Bbaesh always appears to me as a most beautiful lioness, adorned with the most gorgeous of glittery-silver robes. In actuality, though, in my stories, she is a changeling, and appears to any onlookers as whatever it is they would find most comforting to them.
Aside from being my story mom, Sweet Mama Bbaesh is, of course, the story spouse of my Father, Edwin the Bee...the very Edwin that rests upon His lotus flower next to my Sacred Garden gate. I am truly a most blessed child of Divine Love...and most gratefully grateful for that.
My Sweet Mama Bbaesh is also a bridge for me, which is so very important. She is a bridge between my earthly realm, and my story life. A bridge between my material intellect, and my sometimes overwhelming imagination. Without her presence in my imagination, I would sometimes confuse my story life with my earthly life...and one can imagine the problems this might cause in one's daily, earthly activities.
Anyway, it's finally time for me to re-enter my beloved Sacred Garden once again, after a lengthy and challenging hiatus. Read on to join me? Also, I apologize for the long-winded introduction to this chapter, but it was necessary. Working my way back into my story life after a lengthy absence is a difficult process. Edwin the Bee willing, I am back now. Indeed, the age of Knew Beginnings is behind us, and the age of Knew Application has begun. May it remain a most beautiful beautiful journey. Semba:
I was sleeping most peacefully upon my Persian rug, in the heart of my Sacred Garden, Styx' Greatest Hits playing softly in the foreground, when she woke me. Though I could smell the scent of softly caramelized caramel, jasmine, and French vanilla, it was the gentle touch of a massive paw upon my hand that ultimately pulled me from my slumber...then a softly warm and comforting voice:
"Good moon-greeting, my beloved son," she spoke. Her breath was so like candy.
I rubbed my eyes open, and lifted my head slowly from the pillow, a violet glow now surrounding the entire Persian rug, and beyond. "Sweet Mama Bbaesh!" I finally exclaimed.
Mama Bbaesh lifted me to my feet quickly--but gently--with her massive paws, and she embraced me and tucked me inside her most glorious, glittery-silver robe. Her forelegs stroked my back so tenderly, and her silken mane fell most luxuriously upon my shoulders. Then she pushed me back just far enough so that she could look into my eyes, and she spoke, "Beautiful as ever, my son. Now come. A Knew age is upon us, and we must speak of deep and meaningful things." Sweet Mama Bbaesh took my hand inside her massive paw, turned us, and guided us down the path that leads to my sister, the River. "Have you forgotten about the glitter bulbs you and your most precious children planted? I know you know how to light them now. Please light our way, my son?"
Inspired, an ember deep inside my heart began to glow again, and I activated the glitter bulbs along the path that had now grown, blossomed, and glowed with the colors of many worlds. "Thank you for the reminder, Mama," I spoke softly. She squeezed my hand with her massive paw and smiled, as we continued down the path. Her violet aura had softened now in the light of the glitter blooms, and I wondered whether she had done so on purpose.
"Yes, my lovely son...and yes," she answered softly, though I hadn't asked out loud. "This is a segue into the conversation we must have now."
"The Knew Application?" I asked, and turned my head to look into her eyes.
"Indeed, my precious son," her eyes replied into mine, then her candy mouth exclaimed, "My how you've grown!" By then we had reached the bank of my sister the River, and my Sweet Mama Bbaesh sat down, and held me in her lap. She adjusted my body so that the back of my head rested upon her chest, and we both looked upon my sister the River. "You know, your Father and I are very proud of you. You've come such a long way," she breathed. Then my Mama Bbaesh stroked my hair with one of her massive paws, and used her other massive paw to point toward the reflection of the moon and stars upon my sister's flowing gown. "Now THAT is the dance, my son. The eternal dance. The most beautiful of dances there ever has been in any existence."
"Mmm, you are so right, Mama," I spoke, just above a whisper. I nestled myself deeper inside my Mama's glittery-silver robe, and absorbed the rhythm of her timeless heartbeat. Then I asked, "Mama? Why does my sister only speak to me in my sleep?"
"Because you don't listen when you're awake, my son," my Sweet Mama Bbaesh spoke. "Much as you've grown, you still have much to learn."
"The Knew Application, Mama?" I asked out loud.
"For one thing, yes," she replied. Then she embraced me tightly with her forearms, and kissed the back of my head as she continued, "Believing is one thing. You have that--and we're very proud of and happy for that! For many of your ages, that was enough. But now a Knew Age of Application is upon us all, and you're going to have to learn and do more. It's time for you to put your belief into action, my precious son. It's time for you to stop trying so hard to separate your imagination from your earthly life. And we both know what you're feeling. Always. Don't be afraid. Your Father and I love you even beyond your fantastic imagination, and we will never let you fall completely into the darkness of insanity."
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and I turned and looked into my Sweet Mama Bbaesh's eyes, and spoke softly, "I believe you, Mama. And I love you so much." Then I fell face-forward into her glittery-silver robe, and tried to wrap my arms around her (though my arms were simply too short, of course), and I cried. Good tears. The very best of tears.
My Sweet Mama Bbaesh stood, and picked me up in her massive forelegs, pressed my head softly upon her shoulder, and stroked my hair again with her massive paw. She turned us round, and began walking us back to my Persian rug, still carrying me with seemingly no effort at all. Finally she spoke, "Your sister the River is speaking to you now. Can you hear what she is saying?"
I finally stopped crying, and began to smile, "Yes, Mama, I can hear her. She says that I must never tire of being reborn."
And then I heard another familiar voice from Mama Bbaesh's other shoulder, "Your sister is very wise, My son. She is by far the least foolish of My children. I'm glad you are finally listening to her."
And I lifted my head, and turned it--and there He was!--my Father, Edwin the Bee, sighing and pushing up His little bee glasses. "I love you, Father. Thank You," I more than whispered.
"I love you too, My son," Edwin the Bee spoke to me, as my Sweet Mama Bbaesh lie me down gently upon my Persian rug, and kissed me upon my little forehead with her candy mouth. I don't remember falling back asleep that particular moon greeting. I can only recall waking up again.
Thank you all for joining me on this journey.
I love you.