CROSSINGS

The thoroughfare is busy. Everyone rushes by, intent upon some destination, known or imagined.

 

Some frown. Some scowl. Some stare. Some glower. Some nudge. Some push. Some hurt.

 

Some smile. Some nod their heads.

 

Some trip or stumble or bump unknowingly, unwittingly. Some do it deliberately.

 

A few pause by the wayside to watch the passing.

 

Some get carried along. Some get bumped against. Some get shoved aside. Some fall.

 

Some jeer. Some jest. Some ignore.

 

Some sympathize. Some help.

 

Some feel. Some pray.

 

Some demand. Some grab. Some steal.

 

A few give.

 

Some mutter. Some curse. Some quarrel.

 

Some bless.

 

Some give thanks.

 

A few forget the beaten path that rushes headlong towards the goal and wander off the track, to trot off into the bushes and paw at the earth, to raise a nose to the breeze with nostrils twitching, to chase a butterfly and stand in quizzical wonder as it flitters out of reach.

 

The goal has set its own preconditions, and existence is ordered by something in the distant future, while life passes by. The goal is imaginary. It has yet to occur, yet to be.

 

The goal is elusive. It keeps falling back like an enemy army in calculated withdrawal, while Time circles around to attack the attacker from behind.

 

Some give hope.

 

Some rejoice.

 

Some hide their own unhappiness, insecurity and uncertainty by imposing a burden of guilt on those who would be different. If they have their way, it is sinful to do, it is sinful not to do, to laugh out loud, to care, to try, to love, to rejoice, to be, to hope, to dream, to wonder, to see, to stray, to rest, to sleep, to stand, to run, to anything…

 

The goal is illusory. It is like a series of ridges where the visible crest seems to be the highest but gives way to the next higher one as the climber tops first one then the next, and the next, and the next, to the ever-retreating peak of the mountain.

 

Some feel let down. Some see disappointment.

 

Some find time to rest in the shade of a tree and gaze at a wisp of cloud floating in an azure sky; to slap a hand at the drone of an insect. Those who do not know the beauty of the sky or feel the magnificence of the little cloud scoff at them, and pour guilt into their psyche.

 

And then there are those who have no goal. The path is beautiful enough on its own. The crossings themselves inspire wonder as each who brushes by leaves behind or takes away something peculiar. The ridges open their eyes to a wondrous landscape at every crest. The breezes play. Leaves dance. Insects buzz. Birds sing. The world is alive. Up on His Throne, The Master smiles at these, His own.

 

The burden of guilt is poured most heavily upon these backs, for the simplicity of their rejoicing is awesome. Their joy is clearly apparent, easily understood. But they that rush along the road have ensconced themselves in a secure shell of setting and achieving goals. The sheer effortless ease of just giving in to Happiness threatens the saneness of their ways.

 

Some make a show of what they HAVE, and force regrets into these Favoured Ones, who do not NEED.

 

Then a child writes, ‘No cause for disappointments. No room for regrets.’

 

And the sun shines upon Kãto.

“Zeina Glo brings you the radiant glow of inner peace, good health and attendant beauty.

Zeina Glo helps you strip off layers of inhibitions, hesitation, and cynicism, allowing your thoughts and emotions to flow freely.

Zeina Glo helps to douse the flames of insecurity and guilt, to open the windows of mind and body to the cool fresh breeze of love.

Zeina Glo encourages you to spread inner peace, good health, radiance, exuberance, warmth, joy and the glow from your inner being.

Zeina Glo brings the beauty of your own thoughts back to you!!”

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