The Simple Gift

Tricky thing, the wrapping of a gift. The art of wrapping something simple, has become somewhat of an art these days, and lot of thought goes into it, and has lately become an expensive matter. It's funny how people don't really care about what's inside anymore, we're more concerned about the wrapping. But often we can fool ourselves when accepting gifts, thinking only of the tinsel and not about the toy. If we just bothered to open our eyes and notice the gift lying far in the corner of the room, in the cold comfort of the shadows, and the dark crevices of neglect, that's where the best gifts are found, not wrapped in the best way and with the cheapest of wrapping.

Today, I found a simple gift, and one of great intrigue. Particularly this gift had been neglected for so long, it had eventually lost hope of being noticed altogether. But I learnt something from this gift, and that is, we have the power to wrap these gifts in either a good way or a bad way, simply by the power of our own words. Speak down to a person for long enough, and eventually that's where they'll place themselves. So I started peeling away the ugly wrapping, and got to have a peak at the gift inside, and I found something truly special. A warm heart, and a good ear to listen.

As I said, often the simplest of gifts are the best ones to be had. After all, the song says: "It's a gift to be simple, it's a gift to be free. It's a gift to come down where you ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place just right, we'll be in the valley of Love and Delight." So the next time you find yourself presented with a gift, take the time to peel back the wrapping, and hopefully you'll find something wonderful.

The Pouring Rain

If there's one thing that I've learned in life, it's that with the arrival of clouds comes the pouring of rain. And that when the rains comes pouring down, the results can go either way. The oldest ideas of rain paint refreshing pictures in your mind of great cleansing and deep relief. Because the idea of rain, is that it comes when the time is just right, and arrives when the environment is suitable and the land yearns for the drink of its sublime, refreshing taste.

But the coming rain can sometimes bring with it a powerful storm, mighty enough to bring down strong towers and lay waste to the land. For with the coming rain can come the perilous flood, washing everything in its wake clean away. Today that storm arrived in my life, completely unexpected, and certainly at the worst possible time. Then again, I suppose the environment was certainly suitable, and the dry doldrum of a busy schedule may have been beckoning for a bit of drama in my life. The worst storms are the ones that meet, the ones that come from two completely opposite directions of the land and come together in a great, big clash of thunder and lightning.

Two very good friends of mine were arriving in the country today, completely unexpected, and neither one of them knowing of the other's arrival. Both having left for mutual reasons, and now both having arrived for the same. For now we'll call them Kate and Sue. They were both very good friends until Kate decided to become very good friends with Sue's ex-boyfriend. After discovering the spark, Sue then pursued to ignite the old flame between herself and the ex. Needless to say both sparks ignited at the same time, and resulted in both of them leaving the country the first time. Now they came back and both contacted me for coffee, which reluctantly I agreed to. Now it was all worked out perfectly, according to me. I was to see Kate on Saturday morning, and Sue in the afternoon. Tip: Never trust the weather channel - they lied to me!

I could have predicted how well things could have gone, right down to the sunshine or showers. But here's the thing about a coming storm, they can change in an instant when the wind suddenly decides to blow a different way, which is what Kate did. She couldn't make the morning appointment and called my assistant to reschedule. My assistant who then checked the schedule and told her that I already had an appointment with Sue. Kate called Sue to find out if it were true, and to find out why I never told either one about the other. So between themselves they tried negotiating which of the two would get the afternoon appointment with me. I suppose it's pointless saying that neither one would give in, so guess what? The next phone call was to me - from both of them. After a huge disagreement with both, I decided to call them in for coffee at the same time. After the awkward silence and the childish sneers and comments, I explained that they are my best friends and that nothing in the whole world was seriously worth losing a friendship over. So now Saturday is on...with all three of us.

As I said...with the coming rain it can go either way. Either the storm will come and tear down everything, or the polite showers will simply water down a dry and thirsty land. But one thing you can bet on, is that when the storm has passed and the rain is gone, the sun will come, and the land will once again be refreshed. That all the dirt and the grime will be washed away, making way for new growth and a few extraordinary things.

The Wall

It's a strange thing, a wall, and the purposes they serve. Some walls are built to keep things out, while others are there to trap things inside. But the most dangerous of walls are the ones that are built without any purpose in mind at all. Like cracks, cutting through the horizon, or scars ripped across a plain. So one has to wonder - why do we build these walls at all?

I find myself being the victim of a wall. A wall trapping all the hurt and pain of my life inside, a wall keeping anyone who loves me out, and yes, a wall that seems to have lost its purpose altogether. How is it that an inanimate object, such as a wall, can lose its purpose? That something so plain can be so powerful and yet so fragile at the same time. I suppose the worst part of it all is the fact that the architect, designed this wall to be impenetrable. I've tried breaking it down, believe me, but the builders have simply made it out of a material beyond any human invention.

I've heard that water is supposed to be a powerful element against stone. That eventually the rain will wash mountains into the sea, and that the running river carved deep gashes into a valley and proclaimed itself a canyon. They say eventually the great tides of the sea will swallow the might of the land, like Atlantis that sank to the deep trenches of the ocean, into an abyss, never to be seen again. But I've shed rivers and oceans of tears that have crashed against the might of the wall, only to find that the towering stone still remains intact. And now my water has run dry, and I have no more tears to shed. My heart has turned to stone, and I don't know what else to do.

They say that in time the fury of the wind will cause mountains to crumble into the land and eventually wither away, dissolving into dust. They say that mighty gale forces can destroy whole cities, and that the hurricanes of the sea can level high towers reaching for heaven, bringing them right down to the depths of the earth. But I've screamed all my life, and my fury is worn, my voice is breaking and the whispers left behind within me have all grown silent and died. And still...it remains. The great and powerful wall.

Now I have nothing left within me that may even come close to scratching the wall. The wall once built for a purpose long forgotten remains, and my purpose has all but drifted away. For the life of me I do not understand why it was built and why it remains. But this I know, it must come down, and maybe some day - some way I'll bring it down crumbling. I know I can do it. I have to do it. After all...the person who built it...was me.