Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Sun and Shadow

A post by Monsieur

I have many things to say, today. My lady and I have had a full week, but it has been a week of strangeness and different moods for us both.

Louis on a bridge over the Yarra, 28th February.
All is well at Home, as it must be. Spring is nearly upon us, the earth warms and the woods have their first green glow. My lady and I walked yesterday, while she earthly-slept. I dug in our garden, and the soil grows softer, and soon we will be able to work in it. My lady looked across our land, our valley, to where the woods are, and said they show green, and that she would race me to be first there! We ran and ran, laughing, to the hill, where we saw them well, those infant leaves, and we clasped hands and danced whirling, joyous that spring is here. When summer comes we will be joyous then, and autumn, and winter also.

We did not walk into the woods, for we had much to do. I am making a wardrobe for our house. I will tell you how this came to be. Some days since I was looking at my garments, taking them from their chests, the lighter things to wear, the heavier ones no longer needed. My lady sat upon the bed, watching, and although she said it not it was plain she thought it time to have more furniture, a different way to store our clothes. It is true, we have more clothes now than I had in many years! I laughed at her thoughts and we made jests about making wood things, and bringing sawdust into the house.

We went upon another night to see a man who crafts wood. He makes things more beautiful than I can, for it is his art and passion, and his joy in giving. We did not wish to take one of his creations but rather to learn ideas, and to see woods that would suit our home. Our bedroom is papered as is our main room, in a form of cream, a soft colour that changes with its furniture. We did not wish the same colour wood as we have there, for it is warm toned, and sits well with green curtains. Our bedroom has curtains of deep red, and we wished a cooler shade to complement them. We found it in a tree most like ash, a soft shade almost of grey. The master woodman was most glad to give it in sheets, for he casts such materials from his mind for those who wish to use them. I have begun our wardrobe, it is planned and cut. It will have three doors to each side, so they need not open deep into our room, and in the centre, a small cupboard for hats and caps, three drawers for small things, and another cupboard beneath for my longer boots. There is no mirror, for we do not need such at Home.

Of our time on the earthly side, things have been different. My lady has had her doubts surface. I know not why, I mean specifically. I can only say as she did, that it is part of mortality, these doubts. They flee but how often they return! I have seen now how I cannot stand back, and say they do not matter, for they do, I am too close, too involved for it not to be so. These are my lady's sorrows and I must share them. It is earthly and we can only be patient, for we know they go, so gradually, but they will be lost, if only when my lady comes Home. Even now, when we are together there, she feels them not, and says it is strange to know of them in her earthly mind and yet not feel them at all, when she is in the longer reality. I did not travel Home that I knew, in my earthly days, so have no experience of this thing, and can only speak from what I know from my lady. The touch of Spirit would have made me afraid, in my time on earth; such was my life and my mind. Such things were not accepted, they were thought to be of the devil, so those in Spirit kept silence, for fear of causing harm. Some few earthly souls knew it was not so, but they kept silence also, for their safety.

I digress. It is things that this world now says, that cause my lady to doubt. Those who speak of all things being folly, or delusion, make her angry, and yet afeared that there is truth in their words. She does not believe them, but does not yet know strongly enough that the mind's eye is real and clear, and that things remembered in fleeting images are true, they happened, they are not the delusions or imaginings and wishes that detractors claim. Her other fear, I must say it, is the one that I am not who I say. It is little, it is little, I know, and chide her not for it, she is shamed of the thought while it yet plagues her. I say plagues although it is rare, and she knows it is not true for she knows the differences between what she lives and what those who manipulate do. But yet it is in the human to doubt and fear all, to think “it is too good to be true” must speak of all life. There are times when it is true, for there are thieves and deceivers, but it is not true of all and not of our life!

Do not think me unhappy, my friends. I must speak of this, for it is our concerns. It is harder to be free of, and lose the shadow of, than one might think. Yet the sun returns; in the end there are no shadows, they all will pass.

Be blessed in Spirit, for it is all of you.

1 comment:

words said...

At last!!!! I can finally reach your comments page. I am utterly charmed by reading of the simple things in life that convey what love is really all about. Love is in every sentence, every description. It is a joy to read.