Relief - Like a Whisper

"When peace looks in the mirror what does it see?" I asked. I thought I was being profound.
Her answer was immediate and shocking. "Sadness," she said.

Bruce and Elizabeth, from Touching Earth by Rani Manicka

Even after 200 pages, it was a huge internal debate as to whether the book would be consigned to the 'Cedargrove Slush Pile.' Something made me press on with it.

It wasn't that I wanted to read it, so much as I had to. I had spent so much time already wading through hundreds of pages of self conscious text, written in the first person, directly addressing the reader - two things I can honestly say I hate in a fiction... well, no, let me clarify that. The book has to be exceptional or especially meaningful to me if I'm to read something written in the first person and not find that jarring or distasteful. This book was neither... and yet there was something about it that made me continue reading.

Until, after around 300 pages, I rolled a dice - twice as a matter or fact - to find a new book to read from my list. Both times I rolled the number 5. The fifth book on my reading list was this book. Someone wanted me to finish it. So I ploughed onward, and after only 20 or so more pages, I could not put it down.

I ached for these people... the lost, misguided cast of characters stumbling their way through the mistakes of their lives... using themselves, literally to death in some cases. I despaired at their loneliness, hated their dependencies, and cried with them at the loss of their friends. And in their triumphs, oh how I rejoiced.

Maybe life is not so bad after all.

Yes, the book still suffered from self-consciousness, especially when the author herself makes an appearence in the latter part of the book. Yes, it's still written in the first person and still talks to the reader personally, but the story is compelling, spiritual in its own way; deep and black like fertile soil - secret, like a whisper.

The Spider and the Sage

From The Book of Awakening:Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have.

I would rather be fooled than not believe.

The next day the same thing happened. In the third day, the kind man was knee deep in the river, and, sure enough, there was the spider, legs frantic in the water. As the man went to lift the creature yet again, the spider said, "Why do you keep lifting me? Can't you see I will sting you every time, because that is what I do." And the kind man cupped his hands about the spider replying, "Because that is what I do."

Believe

She'd rather to be fooled than not believe,
That human nature be not cruel but kind.
Yet all of her experience could not leave
Her any other bitter truth to find.

That human nature be not cruel but kind,
Lost within her gently bleeding heart.
Her any other bitter truth to find
Left blind, before it had a chance to start

Lost within her gently bleeding heart
She walks the busy street, her eyes downturned
Left blind before she had a chance to start
And try to work out how, with all she's earned.

She walks the busy street, her eyes downturned,
The last few coins she owns clutched in her hand
And tries to work out how, with all she's earned
To pay the piper all that he demands.

The last few coins she own clutched in her hand
She looks to, as the voice cries out for aid
To pay the piper all that he demands.
'I haven't eaten anything today'

She looks to, as the voice cries out for aid.
The unwashed soul is screaming of neglect.
'I haven't eaten anything today'
And in compassion her own needs forgets

The unwashed soul is screaming of neglect.
She places three warmed coins within the hand
And in compassion her own needs forgets
And watches as the drifter slowly stands.

She places three warmed coins within the hand
She knows that they will buy no warmth or food
And watches as the drifter slowly stands;
Uncomprehending of the act of good.

She knows that they will buy no warmth or food
She cannot keep from giving to the needs
Uncomprehending of the act of good
Knows only of her heart that drives her deeds.

She cannot keep from giving to the needs
Each day the needful drifter asks her why
Knows only of her heart that drives her deeds
She says, "I'll be this way until I die."

Each day the needful drifter ask her why
Yet all of her experience could not leave
She says, "I'll be this way until I die."
She'd rather to be fooled than not believe.