Authors: Eva Corona
Fatima sat outside looking up at the stars. Juan asked if she could do some cooking. She prepared the couscous and bessera soups in large portions with vegetables. When Fatima had prepared the meals she placed some food in front of Juan and sat down at the table. After blessing the food they began to eat. Food at the table began always so filled with interesting discussions that Fatima barely got to taste the delicious flavors. The bougainvillea was ignited in color vibrant pink against the blue sky. Juan told Fatima of an ancient Hindu scripture written five thousand years ago prophesying that in this age our femininity and masculinity become rated on our ability to perform well sexually, our noble qualities are overlooked. “Temptation is so powerful it can steal you away from anything, if you let it,” said Juan ominously. “Temptation always arises when you need to be tested.” He continued. “And the tests are tempting, which makes them dangerously difficult. If you are not careful they will get you when you are determined not to fail. “ Fatima thought about which temptations she might succumb to. She could not think of any. Then she thought of the boy.” You are lucky Fatima.” Juan continued. “That you have not become involved in that world. You are liberated from the clutches of the sexual world.” Fatima wondered how he knew that, probably because she was so young.
“I too am free,” continued Juan. “I am too old now obviously, though I used to laugh when men would proudly tell me of their sexual conquests. It is far better to conquer one’s own mind, both a greater achievement and a greater pleasure to!”
Also the temptation of the opposite sex is so strong and alluring it can completely over power the mind. The orgasm sought from the opposite sex can actually be found in the mind. He did not want to be teaching her all his artistry if she was just going to run away with another boy.
The sensual did certainly exist in the world before, but it was not qualified spiritually. It was qualified psychically. If one wishes to look for its most perfect expression it was in Greece. The sensuous was liberated to life and joy in Greek culture controlled in the beautiful individuality. Eros was the god of erotic love but not himself in love. Men and Gods attributed the power to Eros when they found themselves in love. The God of erotic love is not himself in love yet everyone who has fallen in love is indebted to him. Language is not the best medium to express the sensuous. In the elemental sensuous music has its absolute theme. This was claimed by Kierkagaard.
A substance in which sound waves travel is called a sound medium. Where no sound medium is present, there can be no sound. There is no sound in outer space because outer space contains no sound medium. They continued to eat in silence. The terrace behind the house was shaded with plants and the hot Moroccan sun made the shade very welcome. Blooms were moving in the soft wind.
Under the planetary purpose is light. Light of love and light of the sun.
With this age of technology we are advancing to a life of utmost convenience. We do not have to go out and seek the sounds of the forest because we can buy it on tape, no need to walk in nature, real nature, see the solidity of real trees hear the rustle of real leaves yet we are losing touch with the very sources where love is overflowing with abundance. Think of a waterfall. Love is flowing out of it. So much that nothing can be left to be said. There is nothing to say. All of nature with its endless cycles of renewal and vast strength show the force of this love. This love is boundless and endless. Nowhere in this vast universe can we experience love like we do on earth.
They played many games of Caram, a game similar to pool, though on a board. It is a relaxing game, perfect to play in the heat.
When she walked in the village she would go along the tree-lined streets alone. She had seen a boy with playful smile. She looked out for him sometimes when she was walking though she always told herself they could not be friends anyway because Juan had told her that thinking about boys was a waste of time.
Juan said that love could lead you to do many things in life. Love of the good can make you help humanity. Yet people claim love can cloud perception with rose tinted glasses and the world seems so wonderful you will do anything to keep it that way. “Fatima, if you feel desire, let your desire aim at discoveries.” Said Juan slowly, the meaning of his words vibrating with meaning and light. Venture out to keep love in your life. Divine love will never leave you. If you venture out after any other kind of love, your heart may be scarred, though divine love will continue to enhance the beauty of the universe around you. Divine love is everything; there is no other kind.
She had had to maintain and innocence of all constructs and preconceptions of what could be.
The town of Safi, it was an active market town in late afternoon. The busy little pottery village always had tourists coming to admire the latest creations. The girl walked down the Place de L’Independence in the tree-lined reservation looking at the people mulling through the street markets.
She fell asleep on the grass. She awoke to being softly awoken by her uncle.
She had grown fond of her uncle. Juan made sculptures, and had been twenty years her mother’s senior. Because of their age difference, the brother and sister had never been close, and he had never known Fatima as a child. He had a long gray beard and eyes so blue they looked almost ethereal.
“Do you want to be asleep out here?” he asked.
“I do not mind.” Replied Fatima. She shifted uncomfortably.
Juan cared for the young girl. She reminded him of her mother who he had always loved, for her beauty and her grace, yet she had always been a child to him, He sometimes found it hard to remember that Fatima was not his younger sister. It had taken the young girl awhile to adjust into her new surroundings, yet now she seemed happier and he was glad. When he had been asked to take the girl he had felt resistance. He was getting old and did not feel to have a child invading his life, yet he did not have the heart to refuse his own family. After the first few months he had asked his cousin Kathleen in Ireland to take her, until she was older. With him she had been restless and he knew Kathleen had girls Fatimas age. He had wanted to wait until she was older and then he could begin teaching her.
They were walking together along the tree-lined reservation.
“Do you have a boyfriend Fatima?” asked Juan.
“”No” replied Fatima.
“Good.” Replied Juan. “I do not approve of boys.”
They continued to walk in silence. The day was quiet and there were only a few villagers out. Juan had decided that the best way to deal with the child was to give her plenty to do. Juan was a learned man and he decided he would now begin to teach her.
If you trace the word enthusiasm back to its Greek root, it literally means in God. Often we wonder what time will bring us. Instead we must wonder what we will bring time. If we approach every moment with enthusiasm our lives will become wonder filled.
Sankalpa means intention, it directs the heart and the mind to the most uplifting and sacred place of love and worship.
Love is the pulse of the world. Love is harmony and keeps all things in harmony. Love is cohesion, whose own nature is spirit.
We can generate love. Love is the most priceless element in all existence. It is a healing balm of the most exquisite pleasure.
The power of love is penetrating. It yields all resistance. Love heals those who receive it and those who give it. A girlfriend to her boyfriend, a smile and a kiss, a father to his son, a mother to her daughter, a daughter to her father, a brother to his sister, love a hug a smile. Love. Rest, in love.
You have to use virtues.
“Fatima, please get the bread.” Called Juan.
When Fatima went out into the village she was used to the whispers that went on around her. Juan with his long gray beard and the hypnotic sculptures he made was a prime source of gossip for the townspeople. Was he shaman, they wondered and did he have magical powers. They always questioned Fatima with interest about what they were doing in the house. When they asked her whether he ever practiced magic, Fatima did not know what to say. When she did not answer this seemed to confirm any beliefs they had previously had.
In the bakery the beautiful boy with a playful smile looked into her eyes and said hello.
Fatima thought about that boy often and always looked for him now whenever she went into the village.
The next time she saw him he was sitting under a tree. He smiled at her as she walked past. She felt herself blush.
That night over dinner Juan said.
“The greatest gift is that of following the Way alone. Alone is all one.” Fatima wondered if he had said that because she should not think about seeing the boy. She had been thinking about him again.
Juan asked something. Fatima did not reply yet stayed silent.
“We cannot lose what really belongs to us, even if we throw it away.” Juan said, as if to someone else. Fatima stayed silent, scrubbing the potatoes preparing the lunchtime meal. She placed the potatoes in the big metal bucket on the floor and scrubbed. She thought about what Juan had said about love infusing human hearts and minds and this creating a special energy force consciousness that the life force that holds all manifestation in being is an energy that pulsates with its own strength which is love.
There were many tasks she had to do for Juan, like sharpening crystals for his sculptures; He did not allow her to read as he said it would pollute her mind. When Fatima explained it did not matter as she had read many books, he insisted that was all the more reason, as she should not allow more ideas into her mind. She had to find silence and silence cannot be found through words. It is silence that is the vastest force in this universe. Silence conveys the power of life. The power of ones words increases in direct proportion to the silence they observe.
Fatima had found herself thinking about the boy quite often, her mind wandering and now was glad that she had not seen him so she felt she was able to concentrate on the work Juan set her.
The days passed and the love grew between Fatima and the old man. They would spend the evenings talking. Juan told Fatima stories of when her mother had been a child, and it added a glow to her heart whenever she heard of her.
Juan himself now rarely left the house. He was old and said that though he had always liked the townspeople and them being sweet and odd, he had never had time for their conversation. He said it was a joy to be able to eat the daily bread without having to go out and seek it in the bakery. Fatima loved helping the old man, though as the days passed she noticed him getting weaker at times, or perhaps before she had just not noticed the effort which it seemed to take him to lift things, or get up off his chair.
Fatima cleaned the kitchen and made some tea. She placed the tea in front of Juan. He had been painting and she looked at the picture of horses painted on a cliff. She asked him whether he would see his friends again, the people who had introduced him to the world of sculpture. He replied that those who were friends, as these people had truly been, always meet again. Sometimes after lifetimes, sometimes just moments, and this was said with such assurance in the eternity of life and relationships that Fatima did not hesitate to doubt it.
She wondered whether the boy with the playful smile would ever be her friend or if they had been friends and whether they would meet again. She imagined what sort of things he did in the day and maybe what other places he had been in the world. She wanted to ask him those questions, and sometimes, when she felt bored with what Juan was teaching her she would imagine asking the boy these questions.
Most of the time though she was very absorbed in the work Juan had set her, and he made her feel privileged as though she was lucky not to be doing the things the rest of the people were doing. He said he was so glad to have and apprentice and so happy to teach her, though he often checked she did not want to be back with her brothers or going out to bars with people her own age.
The extreme significance>marked irrelevance of a single human life. Everything is in someway the consequence of elementary particles.
Yellow roses and white orchids with dew resting on the petals. Only the stars hear your breath at night.
She is sunlight. He is the sea. she is your pillow at night. She is the wind. A sweet flower in bloom swept away by the harsh winds so soon. Phenomena of a four dimensional world. A diamond-reflecting rainbow shimmers of transparent light. Shadows of darkness are all we live by. Shadows hiding the transparency of light. Even extra sensory perception is dependent on the mind for its knowledge. We know knowledge of the mind is imperfect so this makes extra sensory perception imperfect to.