Om (Auto Life)

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Picture of ploughed field

I don’t know the day that it started but I certainly remember it. I guess the first recollection was when I had run to the train station one morning to catch the train. I was customarily late, hence the running. My school bag was flapping around but generally under control.

I got to the station and bought a ticket – just one stop on the line – but it saved such a long walk. The tickets were old ones made from small bits of rectangular coloured card. The destination signs at the station were old too. White words painted on a black sign – changed for every train by the station guard. How things have changed.

Anyway, the train approached as I bought a ticket, which meant a hasty exit from the ticket booth.   I shot up the steps to the now departing train.

There was a split second decision to be made – run for the train or play it safe and wait until the next one. If it was the latter, I’d be late for school by a long margin.

I decided to jump for it and nearly fell off the moving train had it not been for the woman. She wore a beige raincoat and had ginger hair and she grabbed my arm just as I was about to fall backwards and pulled me safely into the carriage. With the door shut I thanked her. She looked a little bemused and annoyed but no malevolence in her expression. In truth she was relieved that she had caught me as it could have ended in such a mess. With adrenalin still pumping, I carried on in to the carriage seating area and thanked my lucky stars.

Not too strange one might guess but I owe her a debt. She kept me safe in a time stream, a reality, back then, but now she’s not there.  We now are all given this line that as individuals we have to look out for ourselves and that’s it. There is a distance to our communities – everything is up to someone else. God forbid we should have thought to take a risk to reach out to someone else. I mean what could happen, death and destruction of the status quo. Do we look out into fear? When we look around, perhaps we are all a little too complacent – it’s not our issue – it’s not in our world.

But the honest truth is, it is our world, we inhabit it, we live, love and breathe its very existence. We make or break our world. We can talk in the sunlight if we can ever reach out for just a moment. We can take it for a walk and guide it into the shadows of this fear and breathe life to the darker recesses that talk to us of what we might be. Let it dry our tears and open up to the pictures of a future – whatever it may be. You do have a choice to open your eyes, to what you see and what you are inside.

Those tears you cried when you were young – well those tears are still there and they are there because you cared for something then. You may not realise it but you do care for your world now. It’s not really about the fear. It’s about loving your true self and then sharing that with others. Love your friends if you can – they can see you well.

If you take a walk and then you see a red squirrel gathering up those nuts, well if you see a red squirrel then your lucks in, in England anyway. Nature is doing it’s own thing but it’s interconnected with everything and your life is like that. And that’s why the woman saved me on the train because she was connected to the world and she had a thought that she could help me from making an arse of myself on the train platform or worse. The water of life travels in so many multi-verses – but I’m sat right here and my words are talking to you and the letters that make up the words bear you no malice – like the squirrel picking up nuts on the ground. We’re all just trying to make our way in the world and no one knows the full extent of everything.

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