“The Assembly of My Consciousness”

“The Assembly of My Consciousness”

In nature there are neither rewards nor punishment; there are consequences.Robert Ingersoll 

Im working on something that I consider extremely important for reasons known only to me. Because that’s when something like this popped up—- when I was born.

Yes, I’m using the past tenses, ‘popped’ and ‘born’, because I’ve been putting this puzzle of ‘me’ together for that long, and, things are just beginning to come into view.

For instance, after all those years of struggling through school, I’ve finally understood that my life’s meaning is entirely up to me. By that I mean, understanding all the stuff, all the supposedly unimportant things like what goes on outside of all forms of education. Because one of the most amazing things I’ve learned on my own is that official education gets your mind in synch with everything that the people who’ve designed the system of education want it to be in synch with.

For instance, it allows us to progress through a series of ‘grades’ or programs if we’re able to remember information and regurgitate it a satisfactory manner to garner a passing score.

Of course, again, these opinions are being manufactured by the mind of a ‘failed organism’ according to the ‘controlling mechanism’ called, education. I fully grasp the importance and theory of education, without it I’d not be able to so loosely take a ‘stab’ at it.

I’ve always seen myself as not ‘dumb’, meaning I’ve considered myself intelligent enough to live comfortably on the outskirts of the masquerade.

Living on the outside looking in is all I’ve ever known, and sometimes during my life so far, I’d actually joined the ‘masquerade’ according to its rules. I shoehorned my way in out of necessity according to my own dictates—which were wrong.

I’ve always gone back to my zone of comfort. I have at times lived vicariously in my own life, imagining myself a ‘success’ by the defining margins of the masquerade.

And, I understand that most who’ve made it this far will not understand what it is I’m writing about, but at some point everyone, in their own way, will. Because, after all, the most precious jewel of eternity is our life within it.

I think after enough time has gone by, I realize my life (because it’s the only one I can realize) has not gone by in a linear fashion, not as a story with a beginning, middle, and end. But it’s been more of a ‘transpiration’, and here is the definition of that same word:

“Transpiration is the process of water movement through a plant and its evaporation from aerial parts, such as from leaves but also from stems and flowers. Leaf surfaces are dotted with pores which are called stomata, and in most plants they are more numerous on the undersides of the foliage. The stomata are bordered by guard cells and their stomatal accessory cells (together known as stomatal complex) that open and close the pore. Transpiration occurs through the stomatal apertures, and can be thought of as a necessary "cost" associated with the opening of the stomata to allow the diffusion of carbon dioxide gas from the air for photosynthesis. Transpiration also cools plants, changes osmotic pressure of cells, and enables mass flow of mineral nutrients and water from roots to shoots.”

Okay, now the reason I’ve come to this conclusion (for myself) is simple. I’m of the firm belief that we’re all part of the hologram of the ‘whole’. That being said, it would seem obvious that none of this would fall under any category of general education within the mainstream structure/culture.

The ‘masquerade’ I refer to is simply the illusion (I believe) and I’m not nearly alone within it (this belief) exists for the sole/soul purpose of a defined mechanism of control. The control mechanism also by loose definition operates as a hologram of manmade proportions called compartmentalization. Every spoke within the ‘wheel’ of this structure is controlled in this very manner. Religion, banking/finance, medicine, government, education, legal system, media etc..

We’re ‘acquired’ by this mechanism/apparatus/procedure far before we can remember anything of consequence. Our parents, also products of the mask (masquerade takes too long) begin our indoctrinations from the very first day we arrive.

Just as a plant will become accustomed to its place of ‘birth’, pot or field, its growth life can be manipulated, both mechanically and naturally. It can thrive in either environment, but what potential has that plant been robbed of if it falls under any type of manmade/mechanical manipulation, would we ever know if we didn’t see both environs? 

Definition: ORIGIN Middle English (formerly also as inviron): from Old French environer, from environ ‘surroundings.

I know this may spur internal argument among some, but it’s meant to be a purposeful generalization.

For generations (I believe) we humans have been among the potted variety. Those with ‘degrees’ I would expect look at this type of thinking as completely insane at best. Thank you.

I’m seeing now, for myself, feeling my roots of ‘new growth’ just by writing about it and I understand through this medium, or many others, we can ‘explode/explore’ our horizons in any positive direction of our choice. We can see the limits of education as a ‘fence’, a limit after the attaining of a title, or the attaining of ‘degree’, it becomes an inflationary device for the ego, a self imposed (expensive) defensive position. I understand as well, I’d appear as a disgruntled cast off by the same system, an angry ‘system’ assassin.

There’s nothing I can do about that, to the reader I’d seem to be fighting a losing battle. I’m only writing about my own perception of this experience, for me. How else can it be written by me? And ultimately, it’s the system in which we live that hands down the dictates of ‘higher education’ for the expressed motivation of ‘service’. Service to what/whom? It would appear to me that it’s service to the corporation/compartmentalization of control. Why else would we make that decision based upon the same education to that end, to continue our education (expensive commitment) to attain some type of license/degree?

Whom are we serving? Are we serving the important growth of personal spirit, helping the less fortunate, assisting technology to serve as opposed to ‘sell’? I can’t speak for any others and unfortunately we’ve seemed to have given our direction/growth/spirit to the takers, those that have been taking for generations, while surrounding their compartmentalization with the bodies of ‘potted masks’, living day by day in a root bound existence.

Melodramatic? Maybe, but rolling out my inner process, is by itself a process, and with it comes a divination. How else can I forge a means of growth if I always look outside of my own discernment? It would seem nearly impossible. Formal, continuation of education (to me) has always seemed a ‘direction’ or road built by others as a ‘one size’ fits all dispensary of the applied technique of manipulation. Maybe, we’re not seeing, collectively, that certain forms of education are not unlike applying a bridle to a wild horse. Whom begins serving whom?

The Attainment of Position

Live all you can - it's a mistake not to. It doesn't so much matter what you do in particular, so long as you have your life. If you haven't had that, what have you had?-Henry James- 1903

Without question, there is the concept of ‘reward’ upon accomplishment. From the time we’re children until we retire from formal service, whether corporate or military, we are rewarded, or not.

In the military we receive a commendation, and sometimes, most importantly a change of rank along with decoration and command/salary.

In the corporate world/environment, praise is lavished followed (hopefully) with a position change, corporate officer, salary increase.

In religion, a priest/ mediatory agent between humans and one or more deities, would hope to move along through more powerful appointments within the church structure.

Doctors, lawyers, police, politicians, store clerk, etc…all working for the anointment of attainment.

Aspirations of position within that department/ company/ town/ city/ corporation inside that construct for some one, some other, somewhere. For at the end of a single day in the middle of all that we’re really seeking more freedom. Freedom from perception of ourselves, or how others perceive us, freedom from the very work we do?

Again, these are questions I have had for myself as I’ve looked from the outside in and briefly dabbled within the ‘greenhouse’ of oblivion as I see it. And I’ve often thought to myself, that when the time comes for me to die, will I perceive that my time is about to end or will I just experience it? Will I feel confident that I’ve wrangled my way through the maze/maize of external control much as a human pinball might? Or, will I be ready for this ‘experience’ to end, having ‘learned’ for myself, the things that were important to me, regardless of my self imposed deviation from ‘proper’ service?

I won’t know till then I suppose. I can only keep recording the process and sharing as I go, despite the warnings from our appointed leaders of our impending doom.

And if we all saw in ourselves, the built— in guidance we possess, then we’d probably be looking over the heads of the self proclaimed leaders if we even noticed them at all.

If we were left with minimal education, but given free reign/rain over our individual growth, then how could the sky not be our only limit?

The ‘attainment of position’ would be left only to our imaginations as opposed to the parameters of a description of duty/service within a construct of some other direction/motivation.

So, wouldn’t the assembly of consciousness be more of a realization, than an assembly? I’m questioning myself because I’m really not sure. Every day I’m divesting more of my attention from the usurpers and in-vesting it within my own awareness. It’s my belief, because it can only be mine, if this becomes a constant, then eventually the need for money will leave the equation of control/corpse/corporation and individuals will become aware of what ‘feels’ good and ‘right’ like the ‘combination’ of a locked door. It will remain opened for all as opposed to a few. The bridge of perceived necessity/money will be replaced by the instant value of the most supreme of four letter words, love.

Love in our mirror is multi-dimensional, endless, bottomless, all encompassing fulfillment with no need for extraneous control mechanisms. The evolution toward this is realization that value/money, or any perceived representation of it, is simply a means to a beginning, not an end. The controllers clearly saw the opportunity to ‘take’ the spirit of true freedom and wrap it within compartments of attainment, or small pieces of the ‘all’ but never allowing the real freedom of the ‘whole’. This is my admiration of my transpiration before my expiration.

That is ours from beginning to beginning, the control of our personal universe, our contribution to each other. Pure. There is no need for ‘them’ in any of this equation, according to my calculations for me. You’re welcome to see if any of this might apply to your production, after all, it is completely free and open sourced.

Only the innate true meaning of the pursuit of happiness.

Graham Hayward 14

O C E A N

Ocean

I tried to remember the day I was born. According to my certificate of birth, it was on a Monday at 2 pm in the afternoon. I imagine, to me, it was a traumatic experience, life or death still in the balance, no guarantees at that age, susceptible and barely able to breath on my own.

I don’t remember it.

I really don’t recall anything until around the age of five. knowing what I know now, I can see it’s been a series of instructions on how to survive properly after you’ve left the womb. I say, ‘survive properly’ because that means according to the rules laid down ahead of your ‘circle’ of life.

I’m not going into the ‘rules’ because we all know what they are and they differ somewhat according to our parent’s rules and upbringing. They’re imprinted by our parents, extending their own wealth of knowledge, or not, combined with the rules of ‘survival’ within society.
We make mistakes as all living things do, suffer corresponding punishments/adjustments in varying intensities, and life continues on.

We graduate from our training/school platforms with our degrees of study and matriculate out there in the main stream of life. But along with those accomplishments, have come more questions that almost always seem to lead back to that day in the hospital.

That day when I forced, or something forced me out into the shocking atmosphere of earth. You see, up until that time, all was provided for, nature was handling everything. I’m not taking anything away from my Mom, but let’s face it, she was hardwired to do what she did, and she played her part right until the ‘egg timer’ kicked me out on my own.
There is a circle, I thought. I lived within that circle, the circle of family, friends, school, daily occurrences etc…
That circle grew, but it always remained a circle because that’s what circles do, at least that’s what mine seemed to do. I knew my circle well and all that existed within it.

I pushed it as far as I needed to in order to give myself enough room to feel comfortable. There were many days when I’d feel it close up around me, or at least I ‘felt’ that way. Those were the times when I felt the need to ‘push’ further out and increase my ‘familiar’ area.
My circle, was my world on top of the much larger, ‘earth circle’ or world. Out there, outside of my circle of familiarity, was where all the crazy things occurred. The scary things that other people in different countries had to live or die through.

My parents told me some stories about their own experiences within their circles and I listened to friends tell me their own, until one day, I realized that all our circles intersected each others’ and you wouldn’t really be able to tell the beginning or end of anyone else’s circle. For some reason this gave me some kind of personal license to just enjoy the luxuries of multiple circles. It reminded me of waves in the ocean. I could single out one wave/circle, but it was part of the whole of the ocean and it mirrored the entire picture. I began to drive myself crazy because all this information was ‘contradicted’ within the world/circle in which I lived.

School taught me all about separation and borders, people and their differences. I was ‘graded’ on things I never cared to even think about and then reprimanded for ‘failing’ to comply with the correct regurgitation of that information.

I was confused within my circle and sometimes because of this I’d feel my circle begin to get smaller and close in around me. It made me too aware that I was only a tiny circle within the universe and all I gave my attention to was of no significance within the dictates of those that controlled the bigger circle/earth we all lived upon.

The only thing that kept me hopeful was that no matter how bad things got within my circle, no one could stop the bigger, more important circle/earth and remove me, or tell me to get off. I began prove to myself the only thing that could cause me any pain or discomfort was, me. The earth kept spinning around and I kept breathing regardless of how bad I was told things would get for me.

I know, as we all do, that one day my body will cease to operate just as a tree loses its ‘green’ essence and remains in its place but at the same time gone. Where? Back to the same place/ocean from where it came. As the sun’s light reflects back to its source and back again, so goes that circle from the inside out.
We came from that source to fill/activate a human existence/life upon this cell/circle/earth and will eventually return back and again. So knowing this, I began to understand that all the ‘drama/news’ and supposed consequence of life is only an experience of the individual amongst the whole of the ocean/wave and back again within the mirror.
It’s yours and yours alone.

If that sounds confusing than think of something as simple as rain. It falls, it evaporates back to where it came from, and falls again, to infinity. The drops, our essence/soul, comprises the whole/universe/ocean/hologram, It is, we are, infinite, and all as important to the whole, as the individual to their own circle containing their experience.

The moral of this overall essay then, would simply have to be just as Bill Hicks said: “Life is just a ride”. We can’t accept/deny anything within our own circles that we don’t invest our attention to. You do not have to invest/waste your time with anything you don’t care to. The controllers try to control your experience for that very reason.

They want our attention and energy separated from the whole of the ocean/power of the sun/light from where we came, and where we’ll return, regardless of any of the drama they try to inject within our individual circles. If one knows and believes all of this, then how can you fail within your own life? It’s impossible, because all that is connected to nature is in fact ‘possible,’ it brought you here didn’t it?

Peace.
Graham

Who are you?

Moments From Now...: “Billion-Aires ”

Moments From Now...: “Billion-Aires ”: “Billion-Aires ” It’s in the stars, it’s been written into our blood ions ago. “In politics, nothing happens by acciden...

“Billion-Aires ”

“Billion-Aires ”

It’s in the stars, it’s been written into our blood ions ago.

“In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way.” 

F.D.R.

In this theater, it’s all planned years in advance, only now, they’re running ‘off their’ script. Their ‘official’ timeline has officially ended because in the universe there’s something occurring that ‘they’ have known about all along. It’s a combination of evolution/revolution and an extreme awakening amongst a worldwide population, a ‘prison break’ from the inside out. The universal law is riding into town through your mind...again.

Have you ever sat down to play a game you’ve never played before, with a group of people that are extremely knowledgeable as to all the rules and mechanics behind this game? Also, keep in mind, this game is very flexible according to the rules, they can be changed and rewritten to always benefit the group of people that invented this game. You’d never consider playing in this game would you? No one would. That’s a choice we’d never even consider, that’s a gamble worse than gambling.

You see, here’s the deal. It’s not a concept, it’s an evolution. There’s a lot of ‘finger pointing’ going on right now behind doors and walls that have eyes and ears. The rats/leaders taking orders handed down from on high, have suddenly awakened to the fact that they are liable/accountable for any and all activity, not only from here on out, but from here, and before.

All the covert agencies with the official looking logos and badges designed to instill fear and angst, or conversely, the ‘illusion’ of security/comfort for the masses, has always been in place as more of a way to keep all the ‘official’ ponies in their respective ‘order’.

The agencies are more a part of covert, corporate espionage, a watchful ‘handler/punisher’ always at the ready and in perfect symphony with their trusty media lap dogs. Did you ever notice how sudden a politician/corporate officer/military general can have such a ‘tragic’ fall from grace? 

Now, before you run off because you saw the word below, or you saw the word below and decided to stick around, or maybe you aren’t even here still, just humor yourself for a few seconds more, the TV isn’t leaving the wall.

The Bible

The Bible (from Koine Greek τὰ βιβλία, tà biblía, "the books") is a canonical collection of texts considered sacred in Judaism as well as in Christianity. The term Bible is shared between the two religions, although the contents of each of their collections of canonical texts is not the same. Different religious groups include different books within their canons, in different orders, and sometimes divide or combine books, or incorporate additional material into canonical books.

Picture from a 1550 edition of On the Sphere of the World, the most influential astronomy textbook of 13th-century Europe.

Canon: A regulation or dogma decreed by a church council.

Dogma:  The origin of the word dogma  acts as a reminder to English speakers that now-established principals and doctrines were once simply thoughts and opinions of ordinary people that gained popularity and eventually found their way into the universal consciousness of society. 20th century American academic and aphorist Mason Cooley concisely observed that “Under attack, sentiments harden into dogma,” suggesting that dogma is spawned as a defensive act. This idea implies that for every dogma that exists, there is a counter dogma. With so many “truths” out there, there is sure to be a dogma to conveniently fit every set of beliefs.

Belief: Belief is the psychological state in which an individual holds a conjecture or premise to be true. Dispositional and occurrent belief concerns the contextual activation of the belief into thoughts (reactive of propositions) or ideas (based on the belief's premise).

Allegory: 

allegory |ˈaləˌgôrē| noun

a story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one:

allegorist |-ist | noun

Allegory is a literary device in which characters or events in a literary, visual, or musical art form represent or symbolize ideas and concepts. Allegory has been used widely throughout the histories of all forms of art; a major reason for this is its immense power to illustrate complex ideas and concepts in ways that are easily digestible and tangible to its viewers, readers, or listeners. An allegory conveys its hidden message through symbolic figures, actions, imagery, and/or events. Allegory is generally treated as a figure of rhetoric; a rhetorical allegory is a demonstrative form of representation conveying meaning other than the words that are spoken.

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The new 'goldfish' in the invisible bowl.

Imagine waking from a dream, but questioning the very ‘reality’ to which you’ve just awakened to. Do you? Have you? Are you?

Have you ever wondered how you’d control the universe if you were an extremely wealthy/psychopathic/pedophile/inbred border line non-human being? No?
Well, guess what? There just happens to be billions of others who feel the same way and have absolutely no imagination of such a thing either. But do not place your very ‘human traits’ within this process of imagining. Congratulations, you’re a normal human being.

Because if you did...

Then the world as we now know it, would be a very different place, or would it? Maybe the world would be in such a dire mess, that a completely unsuspecting public, mired in the worst sorts of snaking distractions/dillusions, would for the most part, just accept it as ‘their’ reality. They’d just build their beliefs around what everyone else was told and ‘believed’ and excepted. There’d be people just like them, only they’d have special degrees and licenses to direct the lives of others and somehow that would just be ‘right’. 

 Maybe their lives would be much like a goldfish in a bowl, to him, that’s his universe/world. He’s got no clue his world is within a house, inside a town, near a city...well, you get the idea.
Here’s a portion of an old experiment, it’s the classic frog in the boiling water. This was taken from Wikipedia:

“Several experiments involving recording the reaction of frogs to slowly heated water took place in the 19th century. In 1869, while doing experiments searching for the location of the soul, German physiologist Friedrich Goltz demonstrated that a frog that has had its brain removed will remain in slowly heated water, but his intact frogs attempted to escape the water.[4][16]

Other experiments showed that frogs did not attempt to escape gradually heated water. An 1872 experiment by Heinzmann demonstrated that a normal frog would not attempt to escape if the water was heated slowly enough,[17] which was corroborated in 1875 by Fratscher.[18]

Goltz raised the temperature of the water from 17.5 °C to 56 °C in about ten minutes, or 3.8 °C per minute, in his experiment which prompted normal frogs to attempt to escape, whereas Heinzmann heated the frogs over the course of 90 minutes from about 21 °C to 37.5 °C, a rate of less than 0.2 °C per minute.[4] One source from 1897 says, "in one experiment the temperature was raised at a rate of 0.002°C per second, and the frog was found dead at the end of 2½ hours without having moved."

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This experiment has been widely disputed on many levels and what’s most interesting to me is that I imagine it would probably be tough to get a frog to sit still long enough to be agreeable to his bath.

But, the glaring thing really striking me, is that a real live human being, just might. I don’t think it would be as confining as a nice hot bath/Jacuzzi. I do think it would be entirely easier and possible within a blizzard of all encompassing, pleasurable distractions.

In order to control the masses of people in this world, a certain 'hive mentality' needs to be established according to their specific social identifications. Concepts of 'invisible' control are established and decided upon by people you've never heard of, nor are you meant to. You are given specific targets in the media to 'hold' your focus of attention such as celebrities/politicians/media personalities. You're divided by religion, politics, career, education, and most importantly, useless distraction.

If I were one of those bad ‘psychos’ running the world, I’d definitely want to surround myself with guys like me, and Edward Bernays. A man that was expert at surrounding human beings with amazing ‘bath water’.

He wrote a fantastic essay called: “The Engineering of Consent” first published in 1947.

Here’s a little dip:

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in a democratic society.”

This sounds very benign, straightforward and matter of fact, which is just the way Bernays operated. No one really heard much about him. He organized massive ad campaigns for huge corporations and was responsible for bringing women smokers out into the public with his famous sales slogan for their cigarettes: “Torches of Freedom” .

“If we understand the mechanism and motives of the group mind, it is now possible to control and regiment the masses according to our will without them knowing it.”

Edward Bernays

Edward Louis Bernays (November 22, 1891 – March 9, 1995) is considered one of the fathers of the field of (propaganda) public relations along with Ivy Lee.

Bernays was Austrian American and the nephew of Sigmund Freud. He’d decided to change the word, ‘propaganda’ to, ‘public relations’ after the negativity connected to Hitler’s propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels. Much to Bernays’s surprise, he’d later find that Goebbels referred to a lot of what Bernays had written. He pioneered the use of third party authorities in pushing political and social agendas. Interestingly, he’s also quoted:

“It is sometimes possible to change the attitudes of millions but impossible to change the attitude of one man.”

This quote alone is probably the biggest reason for me writing this essay. I've probably already written too much. I could dig up hundreds of names and quotes to prove just as many points as to how we got from there to here, blah, blah. There are hundreds of writers too, who could do a far more comprehensive and engaging job of it as well. It should be, at this point in the ethos, most apparent that change is reaching into your mind, through your mind. If you've made it here, this far, you're looking to explore that 'splinter' in your mind, the seed that started millions of years ago.

My appeal though, is to the, ‘one’ . That single drop in this vast ocean of humanity that just may have rolled out of his or her bed today and wondered for the first time, ‘why’ bumblebees know just how many flowers to tend, and then find their way back home.
This is the mind/universe/man/change/evolution ‘one’ I’m looking to shine to. The one person teetering on the edge of the fence and a hard place. That's how the universe/nature works, on an individual basis, yet all part of the whole, no one part more, or less important.

There's no place to 'look' for the answers, no 'thing' to buy, or 'watch', or sign, or drive/join/learn/engineer, get a loan, or study for.

Because, a single seed does not need to be convinced/coaxed, in it’s natural mission. It’s simply part of the universe that is always at its disposal, and it begins to expand. It quietly synthesizes light that is issued to it from a star/sun, millions of miles away. It is a living, functioning entity, impossible to duplicate in the most technologically sophisticated laboratory anywhere on earth. 

You, come from the union of an ovum, 100 microns in diameter, and a spermatozoon, about 55 microns long, and nearly microscopic. Your mind is an exact hologram of the universe and it contains vast stores of information, technology, beauty, and most of all, love. It's all there, inside you, born with you.

To use another metaphor, we are fields of flowers. Nature dictates these flowers will all bloom, not all at the same time, and none will experience entirely the same elements of growth. We are experiencing exponential change/evolution, from the inside out. Some of us have not gotten the message yet, but it’s impossible, that nature, at some point won’t get to you. The amazing part about it is that you don’t have to do anything but let it happen. 

All that is, is what was, before we became a part of it. What is truly magnificent,  is to be a part of it. 

God Is A Bus Driver

God Is A Bus Driver

Sitting on the bus seemed to be the most comforting thing to do. They all sat in relative silence, trying to gauge this newest of locations, as though dropped from somewhere else, and doing something else, stunned, but unsure to question it. It was assumed there would be a destination, as there'd not be much reason for boarding a bus if you had none in mind. No one riding the bus knew really why they were there, they'd just now simply found themselves there, as though moving from one dream to another, not sure about where they had been, or where it was they were going.

Calendars and clocks and all sense of time, left the recesses of their collective minds as they sat within the familiar grasp of the comfortable seats. It did seem oddly familiar to most, and certainly not an unsettling experience, only slightly confusing, a general wonder of what it was they had been doing before they'd gotten here aboard this bus. It seemed dark outside the windows, or on the verge of darkness, it was a kind of back and forth balance of both light and dark.

The low rumble of the powerful engine was all that could be heard inside this cocoon of travel. A woman looked to her own reflection in the window beside her. And, Lilly wondered whom she was, and how she seemed to know her. She smiled back at herself and knew she was in the right place, a place she'd only dreamt of many times in dreams she could not remember until now. They were peaceful dreams, comfortable travels within her mind, and though her memory of them had faded over years, each one had taken her closer to where she was now.

The passengers took in their own moments of reflection now inside the shuddering vessel, here, traveling together but moving in different paths within their individual minds and thoughts. Lilly pulled at a braid that ran down along the front of her shoulder. She had received her coin as she'd boarded, she turned it over and around inside her hand blinking at its soft reflection.

There was at once a slight murmur as the bus rocked slowly coming to another stop. Nothing outside looked familiar, there was not much to see, just hints of things you thought you saw, but when Lilly tried to focus on anything, it just twisted up and passed by the window. She released her braid and cupped her coin with both hands, peering at the somber man across the aisle from her. He looked toward the ceiling over his head and spoke silently to himself.

The outside seemed so close to all the windows on the bus, a canopy that lent itself to the quiet comfort within. Lilly, thought of her Mother and Stepfather, her little brother, and Lucy, her dog. In this moment, they were the brightest thoughts of the short life she had lived.

She knew things were different here on the bus, they appeared as a moment in the eye of her mind and then she now understood it all as one thought or picture there. She felt as though all those around her were sorting through this newest of revelations. Lilly could barely remember the life from which she'd come from, her bedroom, the sunrise, the sky, as she'd left it that morning. It had been early, the sun had just forced itself above the horizon, its first light had found her eyes and held them, as she drifted back to dream.

All the other passengers were quite a bit older than she, but they appeared to have the same questions in their eyes. 

No one spoke, they seemed to be getting answers on their own and Lilly questioned herself as to why or how she'd come to this sudden conclusion. She was far from afraid, more curious than anything, similar to the anticipation she had felt before the birth of her little brother, Turner.

And as she pondered this newest thought, it occurred to her she'd arrived here in a more complete way. In what she could remember of the past, her dreams would sometimes take her to this place, as an intimation of a past voyage. But, today was different, warmer in her mind, softer, if that made any sense, and Lilly giggled to herself. If she concentrated, her conscious mind told her she was twelve years-old and she was from a small town in Massachusetts. Her Mother and Stepfather grew up in towns not far from the one in which she'd lived. Her baby brother, even her dog, were parts of this life in which she'd come from, and she began to recall this with amazing clarity, her entire life until now was a capsule picture running within her mind.

The light outside the bus was brilliant, and all that was within her mind seemed as a book, or a story within one. It was a jewel amongst all the others, and as Lilly turned within her comfortable seat, she could feel a warmth all around her, a reflection of what she was giving. There was only gentle contentment on the faces of the passengers, maybe a secret that had been at once expressed to them all.

Suddenly, they began to speak to one another, butterflies of whispers within their collective minds, there in the sweet silence.

"We know where we are don't we Lilly?" said the woman Lilly thought she'd known. "Home," Lilly murmured within her mind, as all those on the bus smiled and nodded.

-Earlier That Morning-

Cool fall air pushed through the bottom corner of the closed window and Lilly moved the back of her hand closer to the source. The trees outside shifted their branches together as though part of a great silent opera. Lilly didn't know whether to think the falling leaves were lucky to fall, or unhappy their season of existence had come to an end.

She opened the palm of her hand and felt the breath of all outdoors upon it, the last breath of all the leaves she imagined. She thought to herself a lot about why she had been brought into this world, what was her purpose here, was it to grow like the trees, in one place, and never leave?

She could think back to almost all her birthdays, they came once a year, at this time of the year, when the leaves left all the trees, and the sun seemed to take longer to make everything warm. This twelfth birthday, had come and gone just after Halloween, and just before Thanksgiving, but not really close to Christmas. Lilly's Mother had baked her a pie for her birthday, a Shoofly pie that was almost better than the ones they made in the Pennsylvania Dutch country. Now, the pie was gone. It had lasted for three whole desserts, which was a lot when everyone except her Stepfather had some after three dinners. He had some in honor of her birthday he'd said, but then he had to go back to his diet.

Lilly's dog, Lucy, sat by the door to her bedroom. 

She was a dog that had escaped an owner that had kept her tied to a tree in his back yard, he was cruel to her. Lilly's Stepfather, Peter, had brought her home one night six months ago after seeing her picture on the 'New Dog' poster at the animal shelter. The veterinarian had guessed she was six months old then, but she was underweight and small for her age. 

She was afraid to eat anything the first night in her new home. She cried all night until morning. Lilly had gone down to the kitchen that first night to visit her in the crate she had come home in. She had opened the door and Lucy stepped outside her little cage, Lilly held her close and felt her shiver and whimper, and she thought to herself what it might feel like to be tied to a tree all night out in the backyard.

Lucy licked her chin and wagged her tail as though she weren't sure she should. She sat and looked into Lilly's eyes and Lilly tried hard to imagine what Lucy might want to tell her if she could. And, after a while Lilly thought that all she would want to do is forget where she had lived before. Lucy probably just needed what anyone needed, someone to look after her and love her. They were simple things, but as she sat in her room looking at Lucy lying by the door to her room, she knew they were the most important.

Lilly had a baby brother named, Turner. He was one and a half years-old and he fell down a lot, but Lilly felt he was good about not crying when he did, he seemed to take it as part of the risk involved. He was actually her step-brother, but she didn't really consider the different names that adults labeled these things. He was born in the house, in the living room, at three o'clock in the morning, and she remembered her Mother screaming, just once, before she'd heard the tiniest cry she'd ever heard in her life.

Lilly walked down the stairs into the darkened living room to find this new baby in her mother's arms, he was freshly wrapped in a plaid blanket and staring up into the ceiling. Lilly looked up into the darkness to see what he was looking for, she saw nothing but darkness, and it occurred to her then that maybe that was a comforting thing for him to see.

She walked toward her Mother and Stepfather and she felt a strange chill, it was a shudder that ran up her back and it left just as quickly when the new baby's eyes met hers. They were as big as the chestnuts that sat inside the silver bowl by the fireplace. His eyes seemed to comfort her in a knowing way, and just as soon as she felt this, he looked at all the other eyes that were there above him.

It was at this moment, Lilly wondered if this new baby would be afflicted with the same trouble as she.

When she was five years-old, Lily was diagnosed with faulty heart valves. "It was an arrhythmia," she would tell her friends when they asked her why she tired so quickly. In a strange way, this 'thing' she was born with seemed as though it were alive inside her, a strange friend that begged to be recognized. Lilly sometimes talked to it while she walked with Lucy through her tiny neighborhood. She would ask how long she could run before her friend would claim her attention for its own. Lucy would sit beside her, tongue hanging out, their eyes watching one another's, and Lilly would return the pace of comfort in her heart, its beating would relent, and color would return to her face.

Lilly's world was a tiny one, but it was filled with infinite circles of possibilities, and it was her own to do within it as she pleased. Her mother would sometimes search her own mind for answers to the rivers of questions she had. There was Lilly's father, her former husband, who had died one winter while shoveling snow. His face was a blue-gray when her Mother found him lying in the lopsided bank of snow. He had the arrhythmia too, but no one knew until that day when it didn't matter if they had. Lilly's Mother was angry at her Father for leaving the two of them, she had said that the world and God was not fair.

That winter, Lilly had just finished her fifth birthday, that's really when she started to remember her birthdays and feel things in her world more. It seemed everything was just the way she'd wanted it, there was a certain day in her memory, a day she held in her mind like a jewel in a drawer. It was the first day, Turner, her baby brother squeezed her finger and smiled at her, and it was then, she felt her father's smile within her own, as though he stood within her. The baby reflected it in his smile, and Lilly realized this circle was bigger than she had first thought it to be.

She began to imagine a great ocean within the universe in which all souls passed through a magnificent tree, starting at its roots and ending by riding the backs of falling leaves. There was no beginning or end, but simply 'a ride,' a ride that started aboard a bus that appeared just when you needed it to.

One day when Lilly had arrived home after school, the sun seemed to lend itself in such a way she thought it spoke to her and she stopped to hear its message. There was none, but just enough of a nudge to make her stop and look at it. It was a warm day for early April, flowers were pushing their heads above the ground to feel the wind and sun, thought Lilly. She heard Lucy bark from behind the front door as she grasped the big brass door knob and pushed. The big oak door gave her room as it moved, and her heart jumped a bit from her walk and climb up the front stairs, and along with these sensations, she heard the deep voice of an unfamiliar man from further inside the house.

Her Mother rushed to greet her, as Lucy bounced up and down on her front paws and smiled her dog smile. A man she'd never seen before appeared by her Mother's side and he smelled of a foreign smell, a smell of new feelings, a mix of confusion and Lucy backed away, tired of pretending she also was not confused.

"This is your Daddy's brother, Lilly, honey," said her Mother, and she always said 'honey' after 'Lilly,' when she was just a little nervous. Just then, a large hand appeared above Lilly's nose, his, this new strange smelling, different, big man, that looked a lot like someone who used to be in Lilly's life.

"This is your Uncle Abner," then, "Abner" was said once again, by the man in a much deeper voice, and with a big smile, and that hand of his waited by Lilly's nose. Lucy barked once, as Lilly placed her little hand within the cavernous warmth of that hand by her face. He laughed, and Lilly felt electricity within her chest, a slight tumbling sensation as her friend within, stirred and got her attention. She looked down at Lucy looking up at her, then back to the generator of the electricity, the hand around hers and the smile and his bright eyes.

Her little circle was growing.

Lilly's Uncle Abner took them all out to dinner that night at "Our Bellies," her favorite place to eat in town, and the place her Father had taken them, when he was still here, and before he'd gone out to shovel the snow. And now, here she was finishing her slice of lemon meringue pie, watching her Uncle Abner, whom she'd only met for the first time today. He lived in Washington State, and drove large ferry boats across Puget Sound, filled with cars and the people that belonged to them. He looked at her, and smiled often just as her Father used to, and she could feel it strike in the beat of her heart. Her friend within was anxious and wanted to be noticed, there was room for everyone figured Lilly, no one had to be alone and unnoticed.

Peter, her Stepfather, was a kind, good man to her mother, Turner and her, and Lilly appreciated him for this. He worked hard and often, he brought her silly little gifts that seemed unattached to anything Lilly could see wanting for herself. She didn't know quite how to form these intricacies within her thoughts, but she pushed them to a corner of her mind that was reserved for confused things.

Peter tried to be all that he meant to be, and because he tried so hard, Lilly gave him as much space in the circle within her world. She sensed he knew this and he accepted what she allowed him. There were pieces of herself, Lilly was giving away as people and things came into her life, little chunks of her light were left for those that drifted toward the tree. Innately, her little brother, Turner, sensed this and took as much as Lilly gave him, and reflected it in return. She imagined him aware of many things around him before he began to speak. She could see in his eyes, her Stepfather's honest intent, but somehow, her Mother's tendencies too, the branches, her own, were there as well.

And now, snow fell from clouds she could not see, flakes as frozen leaves slowly twisted through the dark sky until they rested upon the others that had arrived before. In her room, here by the window, Lilly's short life ran before her eyes as a map in time. By the window on the bus, now, and back again, in her mind at any time had she wanted it to be so, because it was all in her little world. A jewel in a drawer for her to live again in another world, and the weight of the coin in her hand felt familiar, the fare for passage across this ocean.

In the eye of her mind, she saw her Mother with Turner in her arms, he climbed to her shoulder and looked toward the ceiling of Lilly's room, there, where Lilly could look into his bright eyes and bring his smile to contrast the deep heaves and tears of her Mother. Lucy, sat by the door, her furry head cocked at such an angle as to gain the most from this brief goodbye. Peter, looked as lost as one could be there in what had been Lilly's room. He didn't try to hide from those tears that were riding out from his sad eyes, they were Peter's honest tears for all he felt unable to give Lilly while she was still there. And, for him, Lilly would be most able to repair this affliction through, little Turner.

That reassurance of silence, and his tiny smile, came from bright glints upon the coin in her hand, and she found herself at once the driver of this great bus.

Lilly was where she had come from just twelve years before. The coin in her hand tumbled from the tips of her fingers into the pile of those that had fallen before it. Together, they reflected a soft bright light and Lilly found herself there, her hands upon the wheel and it was at this moment, she remembered the most stunning revelation of all. God, the driver of this bus, came from within her, and she was part of all the ocean that ever was, is, and will be. Suddenly, the simplicity she had known for all eternity came flooding back to her, a rush of love upon return to the source. Today, was once again her birth day.

Again, she was the bus driver, Mother was her ocean, and she fell back into her.

Graham J Hayward  November, 2012