I had originally committed to writing at least 1,000 words a day and, along with the story of Arthur Bayly and Mary Collins, to postia daily blog. Well, as it has turned out, I have not kept my commitment and, in days past, I would have become very angry with myself for failing to keep my promise. However, as I now realise, from the words of Jesus, my not keeping to my plan is just an error, not a sin. With that knowing, I can easily forgive myself … not to let myself off for doing wrong but to simply know that nothing was done … or not done.
The writing started again this morning and I realised, as my pen rushed to keep up with the words spilling from my mind, that the writing never went away - it was always there. What stopped it coming out was the worries of the world that I let get in the way. With our house-moving dramas and several other uncertainties, I allowed myself to become engulfed in the fear that is ever-present in this world - fear that we can attach to or let go. I had chosen to attach to it and now I let it go on its merry way and so my creativity is free to fly again. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
The writing started again this morning and I realised, as my pen rushed to keep up with the words spilling from my mind, that the writing never went away - it was always there. What stopped it coming out was the worries of the world that I let get in the way. With our house-moving dramas and several other uncertainties, I allowed myself to become engulfed in the fear that is ever-present in this world - fear that we can attach to or let go. I had chosen to attach to it and now I let it go on its merry way and so my creativity is free to fly again. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
So, is Arthur free to allow his creativity surface or is he attaching the fear of the world - his story continues from the previous blog ...
"Well, nothing else is working is it!" said Emily, sitting back and smiling sadly. "The police haven't found him and nor has anyone else. What do we have to lose?"
"So, Miracle Woman, what does the good book tell us we should do now?" asked Arthur, partly in jest and partly in dread.
"Nothing," said Joan.
"Nothing?" asked Emily, sitting up, surprised.
"Nothing," said Joan.
"Nothing?" asked Arthur.
"No, nothing at all," said Joan. "What it says is that nothing has happened."
"Nothing has happened?" asked Arthur.
"Nothing has happened." said Joan.
"Nothing has happened?" asked Emily.
"Nothing has happened," said Joan. "Now, I don't really get it and, yes, it does sound illogical but what it says is that this whole world is an illusion, it's not really here."
"Not really here," said Arthur, trying desperately to think of something original but obviously failing.
"Not really here," said Joan. "And I don't really get it and the course says you don't have to get it. You just have to try to get it, to show a little willingness."
"Willingness for what?" asked Emily, sitting back with a frown.
"Willingness to try to get it that this world is an illusion. That it's not really here," said Joan.
"It's not really here ..." said Arthur, still failing in the originality department.
"It's not really here," said Joan. "I know this chair is real, I know you're real, Emily, and I certainly don't want you to not be here, Arthur. You're real to me, love, and I certainly don't want you to disappear in a poof of smoke!"
"We're not here but we're not?" asked Arthur, going bright red with Joan's public comment of affection. He wasn't used to such things. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of illogic and really needed a life belt very soon.
"Just bear with me, love, Emily," said Joan. "All this in the world is an illusion - it's an insane illusion."
"It's certainly insane!" said Emily, laughing for the first time.
"That's a good step!" said Joan, turning to her. "You see, if you can just accept that this world, this busy physical world, is insane - absolutely, totally insane - you'll stop trying to work it out, analyse it, make sense of it."
"Oh, I've given up trying to make sense of it with everything that's happened over the last few years!" said Emily, smiling grimly.
"Great, so you're on the way to sanity!" said Joan. "Now, so we just start by giving up trying to work anything out, just knowing it's insane ..."
"But how can it be insane if it doesn't exist?" asked Arthur, as a blinding flash of inspiration finally hit him.
"I don't know, love," said Joan, patting his knee, smiling at him. "The Course just asks that we try to accept it. We don't have to believe it. In fact, we can even actively reject it. We just show a little willingness to see things another way."
"Mmm," said Arthur, finding real words difficult to find.
"OK, I'm willing!" said Emily, sitting up with more vigour than she'd shown previously. "Life has been so insane for me and I just can't make sense of it. It's just not working for me, actually, so I'm ready to try another way - any other way! What do you think, Arthur?"
"What I think is that the whole thing sounds so totally illogical but it has actually worked for Joan. She's different, I know she is, and I'd like to have something of the difference she's experienced. That's what I think." said Arthur, smiling, shaking his head. "If the illogical works, let's try it, I say."
"So, we show a little willingness to try to accept that the world's insane, it's not really here," said Joan, summing up. "So, if it's not really here, what is?"
"Oh my God, now what?" asked Arthur with a strange buzzing in his stomach, a strange and uncomfortable buzzing.
"You're absolutely right, Arthur! There's your God!" said Emily, laughing. "That's all there is. God!"
"God?" asked Arthur, finding his originality with words slipping away again.
"So we just sit here and let God do it all?" asked Arthur, checking that he'd summed up correctly. He eased himself back down to the floor as he realised Chloe was having trouble fitting some pieces together. Maybe, too, he admitted to himself, it was easier fitting Lego together than fitting these new ideas into his mind - they just wouldn't go in properly. Perhaps Chloe felt just like him, struggling to fits pieces together.
"Well, yes, we give over to God but we don't actually do nothing at all," said Joan, patiently. "We don't do anything in our own strength ..."
"Our own strength?" said Arthur, interrupting, with the dread feeling that it was becoming less comprehensible, not more, as he'd hoped.
"Yes, our own strength. And no, I don't fully get it and I don't do it all the time, I must admit," said Joan, smiling ruefully. "I keep falling back into my old way of doing things - deciding what must be done and trying to make them happen that way ... my way." Arthur smiled at the frank confession of her bossiness and his dread of her uncompromising demands. He didn't trust his mouth to say anything at this moment and kept it firmly shut.
"Well, what is this new way?" asked Emily. "If we do nothing, what do we do then?"
"What we do - and I'm still learning all this - is to ask the question and leave it at that" said Joan.
"Just ask a question and leave it at that?" asked Emily, frowning as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair.
"We ask and we listen. We don't decide what to do, we listen and the still, small voice for God speaks," said Joan, uncertainly. "Oh, gosh, it all sounds rather silly when I say it like that but it works, believe me!"
"Well, nothing else is working is it!" said Emily, sitting back and smiling sadly. "The police haven't found him and nor has anyone else. What do we have to lose?"
"So, Miracle Woman, what does the good book tell us we should do now?" asked Arthur, partly in jest and partly in dread.
"Nothing," said Joan.
"Nothing?" asked Emily, sitting up, surprised.
"Nothing," said Joan.
"Nothing?" asked Arthur.
"No, nothing at all," said Joan. "What it says is that nothing has happened."
"Nothing has happened?" asked Arthur.
"Nothing has happened." said Joan.
"Nothing has happened?" asked Emily.
"Nothing has happened," said Joan. "Now, I don't really get it and, yes, it does sound illogical but what it says is that this whole world is an illusion, it's not really here."
"Not really here," said Arthur, trying desperately to think of something original but obviously failing.
"Not really here," said Joan. "And I don't really get it and the course says you don't have to get it. You just have to try to get it, to show a little willingness."
"Willingness for what?" asked Emily, sitting back with a frown.
"Willingness to try to get it that this world is an illusion. That it's not really here," said Joan.
"It's not really here ..." said Arthur, still failing in the originality department.
"It's not really here," said Joan. "I know this chair is real, I know you're real, Emily, and I certainly don't want you to not be here, Arthur. You're real to me, love, and I certainly don't want you to disappear in a poof of smoke!"
"We're not here but we're not?" asked Arthur, going bright red with Joan's public comment of affection. He wasn't used to such things. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of illogic and really needed a life belt very soon.
"Just bear with me, love, Emily," said Joan. "All this in the world is an illusion - it's an insane illusion."
"It's certainly insane!" said Emily, laughing for the first time.
"That's a good step!" said Joan, turning to her. "You see, if you can just accept that this world, this busy physical world, is insane - absolutely, totally insane - you'll stop trying to work it out, analyse it, make sense of it."
"Oh, I've given up trying to make sense of it with everything that's happened over the last few years!" said Emily, smiling grimly.
"Great, so you're on the way to sanity!" said Joan. "Now, so we just start by giving up trying to work anything out, just knowing it's insane ..."
"But how can it be insane if it doesn't exist?" asked Arthur, as a blinding flash of inspiration finally hit him.
"I don't know, love," said Joan, patting his knee, smiling at him. "The Course just asks that we try to accept it. We don't have to believe it. In fact, we can even actively reject it. We just show a little willingness to see things another way."
"Mmm," said Arthur, finding real words difficult to find.
"OK, I'm willing!" said Emily, sitting up with more vigour than she'd shown previously. "Life has been so insane for me and I just can't make sense of it. It's just not working for me, actually, so I'm ready to try another way - any other way! What do you think, Arthur?"
"What I think is that the whole thing sounds so totally illogical but it has actually worked for Joan. She's different, I know she is, and I'd like to have something of the difference she's experienced. That's what I think." said Arthur, smiling, shaking his head. "If the illogical works, let's try it, I say."
"So, we show a little willingness to try to accept that the world's insane, it's not really here," said Joan, summing up. "So, if it's not really here, what is?"
"Oh my God, now what?" asked Arthur with a strange buzzing in his stomach, a strange and uncomfortable buzzing.
"You're absolutely right, Arthur! There's your God!" said Emily, laughing. "That's all there is. God!"
"God?" asked Arthur, finding his originality with words slipping away again.
"So we just sit here and let God do it all?" asked Arthur, checking that he'd summed up correctly. He eased himself back down to the floor as he realised Chloe was having trouble fitting some pieces together. Maybe, too, he admitted to himself, it was easier fitting Lego together than fitting these new ideas into his mind - they just wouldn't go in properly. Perhaps Chloe felt just like him, struggling to fits pieces together.
"Well, yes, we give over to God but we don't actually do nothing at all," said Joan, patiently. "We don't do anything in our own strength ..."
"Our own strength?" said Arthur, interrupting, with the dread feeling that it was becoming less comprehensible, not more, as he'd hoped.
"Yes, our own strength. And no, I don't fully get it and I don't do it all the time, I must admit," said Joan, smiling ruefully. "I keep falling back into my old way of doing things - deciding what must be done and trying to make them happen that way ... my way." Arthur smiled at the frank confession of her bossiness and his dread of her uncompromising demands. He didn't trust his mouth to say anything at this moment and kept it firmly shut.
"Well, what is this new way?" asked Emily. "If we do nothing, what do we do then?"
"What we do - and I'm still learning all this - is to ask the question and leave it at that" said Joan.
"Just ask a question and leave it at that?" asked Emily, frowning as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair.
"We ask and we listen. We don't decide what to do, we listen and the still, small voice for God speaks," said Joan, uncertainly. "Oh, gosh, it all sounds rather silly when I say it like that but it works, believe me!"
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