2014.10.26 08:00 - I am a Sunday Morning Traveler

The Guardian for this meeting was Adams Rubble. The comments are by Adams Rubble.

Adams Rubble: I sit here at the pavilion on a late October Sunday morning, after a lapse of many days, weeks, even more in virtual time. Being here alone but for the whisper of the fountain, reminding me, unclaimed log, unclaimed log, recording 10834 bytes free.

If I was to play, what would I be other than Adams of the Rubble family, descended from the illustrious Barney. Or I could be Rubble, the rock in many pieces of the Adams family as opposed to the Addams family who were dealt one "d" too many. Those Addams get there day this coming Friday.

The bell reminds me. Playing as Being. When I was a child I played as a child. In playing I learned as a child. As I saw the sun, the clouds, the rain, the snow, the butterfly, the flower, I wondered as a child. One appreciated without being taught to do so.

When I heard Beethoven's Seventh Symphony for the first time I mentally walked in the green pastures of my grandfather's farm, seeing the sky, the trees, the grasses, the wildflowers, the birds, animals and insects all represented in that music. Who knew as a child, that playing in those fields, was playing with Being.

As I child I played with my fears too. One could pretend to be a brave soldier as one walked through in dark surrounded by brutish shadows and night noises. Hmmm. Now I am getting myself into reality and appearances and the next thing I know I will be counting my kleshas one by one.

Well, it is almost time to go. My fairy godmother waves her wand and turns my meandering monkey mind back to the tasks awaiting me in the other world. I wonder if I can remember how to post a log? I understand it is like riding aa bicycle but my fairy godmother seems to have taken everything but the pumpkin.