I am establishing my role as distant friend and eccentric spiritual leader. I don’t know what I’m doing here, in this little town on the south island of New Zealand. If we could just banish the idea of property, what a difference that would make in the world.
My yoga classes are none of my doing. The people here are wonderful. All these aspects of God shining honestly.
22 is a big number. It was Mark from Nimbin’s life number. He has Papa’s birthday tattooed on his neck, except it’s exactly 50 years later. That’s the birthday of his son.
It was so easy with Mark. We felt like we already knew each other. And I saw every one of my ex-boyfriends in him. Jason’s possessiveness, Keith’s denseness, and James’ blackfella-ness. Ben’s devotion, the magician’s desire, and the Canadian’s need for gratification.
He was incomprehensible and impotent like the Mexican waiter, he was insistent and irate like the half-Filipino drug dealer, and he naturally took charge like Paul. He was unstable like Mike, and talkative like Jake, although those two don’t count as boyfriends.
He was oblivious, like every single one of them, to the nature of God within him.
It seems like I’m the only one that sees myself when I look into other people’s eyes, but I know that can’t be true.
Pup is the only one, and Rogue, too; they know the truth of One-ness.
And the dog at the beach near Nelson, too; the black-and-white shepherd mix with intelligent amber eyes. I loved her for her proud carriage and impeccable guardianship of her lonely blonde mistress, swathed in black flannel.
My eyes shone to see her goodness, and our eyes met as the two passed, her jaunty tail held high, mistress downcast. They walked on and I lingered. I poked through the sand for seashells (and possibly Pounamu) and padded through the gentle waves.
They returned, the mistress breezing past first, dark and silent. I’d turned in the other direction (probably south-east) and i didn’t see her coming. The dog approached me from behind as well, two moments later.
Long, silky fur brushed past my left side, and the dog paused and looked up into my face. Clear, honest amber eyes filled my vision and the words, “so KIND” filled my mind.
A second later, she was gone, trotting close to her brittle mistress.
How can any of this be true?
How can I be stuck for 4 weeks in a messianic lodge in the middle of New Zealand with 17 Israelis and 4 fundamentalist Christians?
What am I?
God.
What game is God playing?
Global pandemic?
I don’t understand this comfortless reality without Pup. I don’t like it.