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An Act Of Kindness

He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the Levis factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country.

He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you m'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm. By the way, my name is Joe."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough Joe crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down her window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk.

She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been alright with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Joe added "...and think of me".

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor, it didn't ring much.

Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Joe.

After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get her change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes, when she read what the lady wrote. It said, "You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too. Someone once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here's what you do. Don't let the chain of love end with you."

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be alright, I love you Joe."    End.


A Parable Of Risk: Betting On The Here & Now by David Zoe
Wayne had waited all of his life to begin loving, to enter into communion with all beings. It seemed to him that there was always something more to atone for before he could feel himself worthy of Love. Another act of forgiveness to go through, another bad habit to overcome, another day of meditation, one more retreat, more solitude, always, always, though, there was the waiting.

The call had resonated so deeply with him, he knew he had to follow. Where would it lead? He wasn't sure he could handle another journey and it's always accompanying dark night of the soul. He didn't want to head out again only to always be with himself, only to return to where he always is, to that place where all find themselves. Here. And that's when it deepened. It broadened, sweeping him up in waves of Love and Understanding. It was a felt sense of completeness, total and without exclusion. "Is that it", he thought? "That's all? You mean I need not go anywhere, need not do anything? And all this ing, all this time spent chasing my tail like a dog, only to find out, now, that, It never not Is, that, It Is ALL, even me, with all my insane judgements and chattering voices, sweeping emotions and compulsive desires.

At that moment time ceased. At that moment the Reality of Eternity was no longer some fancy intellectual concept but known beyond a shadow of a doubt as the only Real experience he had ever had. The doors of perception flung openly madly revealing previously hidden dimensions of the Real that he now knew were the fundaments of all Createdness. Like so much ice melting in the sun of spring his once rigid boundaries were soon to be no more. The expansion of self to Self was merely his own Essence unfolding like a thousand petaled Lotus. A fragrance, an aroma wafted all around his boundless nature. Music, celestial tones emitted from his very Self, for he was the music of the spheres, the infernal Stars, the exploding Galaxies, the plains and rivers of Light and Love that rolled through them, the Awareness was him, was All. He could now chase down dreams with the innocence of a child, wherever and whatever---even whomever--- he would place his Awareness on he would become the Essence of.

"What Love", he thought, and it would increase. "What bliss and joy, what peace and understanding, what connectedness", and it was so. The separation ceased to be. He now knew that it was his travels, his journeys, his beliefs that he had to do in order to be worthy of that had prevented him from Being his Real Self, from embracing the Totality that simply IS, that he know knew to be ALL, from the heights of joy to the depths of despair. He was never, is never, not Divine. He was never, is never, not at One with All That Is. And so long as he believed he needed to go here or there, do this or that, in order to become worthy of being Who We Always Already Are he would fail to recognize his most Real Self; the Self that is One with All, that is not separate, but is of the same substance, the same Spiritual Prescence, that constitutes all of manifest reality.

Was it a coincidence that at precisely the moment he realized it would only happen here, only happen now, It did? Was it merely an irony that when he ceased the , the ended, and not only ended but revealed to him what always already is the case, is the Condition of Reality? All he could do was laugh. There was no punishment needed, no judgement called for. In fact he now knew that as an Eternal One he co-created this game, this ing, these dramas, so that All might not be so bored with ItSelf.

Time wasn't an issue. Time doesn't matter to those who know Eternity. So what's the rush when you will never not Be? What's the headlong fury for when the Truth is that we have all time at our disposal, that our games have no whistle that is going to blow, that the only end to the drama comes when we choose to enact another role or choose to detach from all roles and enter once again into the Unified Field of Oneness? Judgement dropped with this understanding and Wayne knew that as he would re-enter the world of Game-players and Mask-wearers he would now allow all to play the part they believe is their's to play, he was beyond judging others, for to him he now saw the Truth; that it would merely be judgement of Self, the Self that is unassailable, the Self that is you, him and her, this and that, those and these, us and them, here and there, One and All.   

We are Wayne.            End.

by David Zoe


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