Believing 12
********
As I watched the
videos of people and dogs being rescued from the flooding of Hurricane Harvey,
I found myself focused on the dogs more than the people. The dogs were obedient
to a fault, sad but resolute, and appeared to know what was going on. How did
they know? The simple explanation is that
there are no words to be said during a disaster in progress.
*******
“How do we know
that the planet is threatened because of simple disarray?” clucked Bertie, the peregrine
falcon, “We have seen world wars, famine, genocides, plagues and hellacious storms.
Some of us are descendants of those creatures who survived major meteor strikes;
So, what’s the big deal about this time?”
“Something in my
consciousness believes that this time it is truly different,” Shazam clucked
back, “and I say believe rather than know with good reason.”
“That’s scary,” Myrtle
blurted, “but believing and knowing are the same for me. I both believe and
know that the Great Turtle in the Sky is watching over me.”
Hummy chirped, “I
hope that we can agree that Mom Nature does not look like any of us.”
“As your facilitator, I trust that we can
agree on Mom Nature’s appearance rather than a creator that looks like us. This
way we can arrive at a common ground. It is sad that many humans peel
themselves off from other living creatures to make a god in their convenient
likeness,” clucked Mary the White Pelican. “Hooie brought up something that we
should understand. Mom Nature is compassion for all creatures.”
And suddenly,
Free, the butterfly fluttered, “Blunt your sharpness, untie your knots, soften
your glare, and settle your dust.”
Buddy, the Agouti,
mumbled, “God is a verb and not a word. But, I don’t mind all this talk if we
get to the right action. We have to hear
many tones before we find middle C. Compassion is a tone and our tone must
be true to our heart.”
“So, we are
reaching agreement that our tone says something about our compassion and we
learn by active listening and we untie our knots too. That’s a tall order; and as
we hear each other’s compassion we will come to believe.” bleated BillyG.
“I realize that
some of you know that parrots make jokes but this is no joke,” moaned Paula the
Sissarou parrot, “I feel the power of the circle drawing us in.”
“Don’t be scared,”
crooned Mira, “you ‘all are finally slowing down and finding the comfort of
Middle C.”
Mary, the facilitator,
chimed in, “When believing and knowing join hands there is a sound that can be only described as
BEAUTIFUL.”
*******
Thus, we come to a
stepping-off place as the first 12 episodes are fleshed out. The author, Phil,
cannot breathe life into the circle but the animals can supply the Kickapoo Joy
Juice necessary for the élan vitale. The
next 12 episodes could be heard if the animals find out how to create the sound
of a Rolls-Royce Merlin engine from the sound of a batch of hand held can-openers.
*******
