The Blind Man

A long long time ago, about a few years in the past, there was a young blind man.

He walked around the town and lived his life. He would wait at bus stops for hours, would face walls, and would walk back and forth in the same place again and again. Sometimes, he would whistle a tune while living his life.

Another young man saw the blind man one day and felt a great pity for him. "There's no way this blind man can be happy all alone in the city," the young man thought.

He invited the blind man to come stay with him at his small cottage up in the mountains where the young man found it more peaceful and quiet.

The blind man had never met this young man before, but the blind man always loved kind strangers. He agreed. He packed the few items that he owned over the next few days, said goodbye to his bus stop and walls, and moved to the mountains with the young man.

"It is much better to live out here than in the city for a blind man like you," said the young man. "You are safe from all those people and troubles while you are here."



The two men became good friends over the next few months. They laughed and they played in the mountain woods together. They fought just like brothers at times, and they even told each other stories every night before bed.

It was a simple carefree life for them. The kind of life that never seems to last long enough.



One day, the blind man noticed that the young man was quite sad. His voice sounded cracked and reserved when he talked, like he was thinking too much.

"What's on your mind?" asked the blind man.

"Oh nothing, I just wish you could see all that I can is all. I know that you cannot see and it makes me quite sad sometimes thinking about all the vivid images you are missing out on."

"What do you mean?" the blind man inquired further.

"Well, how do you know what a rainbow looks like, what it's like to gaze at the force of a running river, or what a scene it is to behold when flocks of beautiful cranes fly overhead?" responded the young man.

"I am still confused by what you are thinking," said the blind man.

"Never mind, forget it," replied the young man as the night became darker and the woods became more silent. It was time for sleep.



It was the middle of the night while the young man was dreaming something pleasant when he was awakened by the blind man.

"Come with me, we're going out into the woods," said the blind man.

"Are you mad? It's freezing and there might be wild creatures that can kill us out there."

"Come with me, you'll see. Trust me and come."

Had it not been for all the time they spent together and the fun times they had, the young man may have never went. He sleepily put on his coat, and the two headed into the dark woods together.



It was pitch black all around and the blind man said,"Now tell me, what do you see?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing, it's only cold out here," grumbled the young man. It was so dark and cloudy that not even the stars shined.

"Look harder, look longer," said the blind man. He waited a few minutes. "Now what do you see?"

"Still nothing." The young man was getting cold, he was sleepy, and wanted the warmth of his bed. He knew he could not just leave the blind man there, so he swallowed his thoughts and tried to look harder. Still he saw nothing but pitch black darkness.

"Now what do you see?" asked the blind man.

"I see nothing, I want to go home."

"How do you know you see nothing?" asked the blind man.

"Because it's so damn dark, that's why," the young man was not the nicest of people when he was cold and tired.

"Then, isn't it darkness you see, not nothing?" inquired the blind man.

"Nope, just nothing," responded the young man sarcastically.

"Have a seat, here on the earth, and I will tell you what I see," the blind man said with a sort of knowing in his voice that the young man had not heard before. The young man sat on the soft earth as he was told.

"Okay, what do you see? You're blind, but I'll listen," responded the young man.



The blind man begun,

"I see the darkness, full of life."

"I see the pain, the love, the hope."

"I see the people singing in the streets, busy bustle through the metropolitan maze."

"I see the lovers and haters yell bittersweet words to each other in the city streets."

"I see the wedded folk contemplate the realities of marriage. The ones that will last are always built on a soft yet adaptable foundation."

"I see the old grandma who has no greater joy than the laughter of her grandchildren. Each fold of her wrinkled skin tells a story."

"I see the kids laughing in the park, playing with their dogs who run after them."

"I see that man crying in the corner, feeling so alone and unloved, regretting many of the choices he's made, yet he always chooses to carry on."

"I see that young infant, so vulnerable and so pure. Screaming out loud when it is hungry, making such a fuss when it is too hot or too cold."



"You sure see a lot for a blind man," the young man said out loud.

"I'm not done quite yet," the blind man continued.



"I see the birds chirp as they come to collect the ripe fruits of all the seasons."

"I see the bears come out of hibernation, fierce and hungry as they stomp around.

"I see the deer screech during mating season, the clash of antlers to showcase strength."

"I see the silent serpent slither through the leaves to catch prey."

"I see the wolves cry out messages to the far corners of the earth."

"I see the spiders meticulously building their webs, rebuilding them when heavy rainstorms have past."

"I see the fish leap out of the water and enter back in with a big splash."

"I see the crickets hum out a night tune, the frogs who reply."



He went on as the young man listened,

"I see the detail of every grain of sand running through my fingers. I see the water against my skin and the vastness of the ocean as I swim."

"I see the voices of the trees as I climb high into the branches to taste the sun, to listen to the wind. I see the sweet smells of all the flowers with the changing seasons."

"I see the sands of the desert, the seeds that collect in the dunes."

"I see the hot days and cold nights as the year passes, no moment in time ever the same."

"I see the river carve out rock with patience. Each miniscule scrape rearranging billions of years of creation."

"I see the stars and how they vibrate, sending dreams and messages to those who will listen."



The young man felt a stiff ball of emotion collect in his throat, yet all he could mutter was, "Is that it?" He half expected what would come next.



"No, I also see you," said the blind man.

"I see the way you sit looking out your window on cold and sunny days. The way you long to rush through the woods and get dirty."

"I see when you are upset by the way you talk, how your voice becomes ever so deeper, ever more potent."

"I see that fire in your eyes, that what if. Those hopes and dreams you want to come true one day, yet that day never seems to come close enough."

"I see the way you talk to animals. Gentle and kind, it was seeing the way you spoke to the birds that made me trust you."

"I see how your heart yearns, the ideals you strive for and the soul that keeps you alive."

"I see the way you smile, the warmth that radiates from your body, the way you hug people as if they were your own children."

"I see all that love in your heart and all those wonderful gifts you have. The attention to detail and beauty that only you know how to explain."

"I see the way you walk around gently. With your bare feet, you never make a sound, but your presence is always known."

"I see how you make your tea, carefully steeping and blending every herb precisely."



The young man began to feel very stiff. He wanted to speak and run, but his body would not let him.



"I see the food you make, the art you create from your hands when you touch food. The flavors that pour out from your heart."

"I see the clouds in your head, the sky in your mind, and how your ideas are never too big for you to keep thinking them."

"I see the restraint in your voice, when you are angry with me or others. Yet you swallow your pride because you do not want to lose anyone you love."

"I see how you water the plants. You kneel down to their level, always sure that they know you are there."



The young man had heard such words before, but they sounded different coming from the blind man. They had meaning, they had life, they carried love. The young man believed them.



"I see how very ancient spirits surround you constantly, able to take care of you when you may need them. They keep the lessons you need to learn in order and on time."

"I see your dreams. So vivid and bright. The bounty and fruit that collects in your presence is your special talent. It comes naturally to you."

"I see a deep soul, deep as the darkness itself. Full of creative power and love. How your touch can change lives and transform them in an instant."

"I see how you are thankful for each breath, that no matter how tough life may seem at times, you are willing to let it in."

"I see the beautiful being that you are, the light that always shines through no matter how small."

"I see what most people would call the great mystery in you."

"I see how you took me in because of pity, but then quickly learned that it was you who needed me."

"I see you for who you are."

"All the things that you call nothing, that is what I see."



The young man could not move or speak for some time. He felt the chill of the cold forest kiss his face. He tried to take deep breaths, but a quiet calm would not let him. Water began to flow from his eyes, and fond memories caressed his mind. He had forgotten what it was like to feel loved, to take in that which he desired. The blind man had reminded him.

"Come, let's go home," said the young man after several moments.

He stood up, held the blind man's hand, and they walked back to the cottage together.

The trees rejoiced that the blind man had spoken. After all, it was the trees that had taught him how to see.

Long Haired Man

The young man sat in his little abode while he brushed his long long hair. He had spent the day in the woods. Swimming in the rivers, adventures through the pines, eating the fruits the trees gave him, and laying on the ground. He loved knowing that even when he was in his tiny apartment, existence was in every crevice imaginable.

He sat there in peace, as the thoughts of others moved all around him. He felt the people who loved him and knew their presence, they were always aware of one another. The new blue light used to brighten his small home made him smile, calmed him, and gave his plants food.

He bathed in warm water. Felt the warm water caress his body like a mother who nurtures her child ever so tender. He scrubbed all the bits of his body. First his arms and armpits so the old skin would rinse off. Then his stomach and chest to allow his hands to rub his heart. Then his butt and crotch, cleaning it well since it was the area he could touch the least during the day. Then his long legs. He weaved his fingers through his thick and soft hairs.

He liked to rub his feet the most. His feet were one of his favorite parts of his body, for they could tell stories of long long journeys, tales of perseverance, and could remember endearing moments of intimacy. The toes on his feet would curl like his fingers over the surfaces they encountered. They were used to feeling the earth, and the soft skin of his legs when he slept. They were also nurtured a bit more than all the other parts of his body, for they often were asked to do the most work.

Then he rubbed mineral oil into his skin to keep it soft as the weather became colder day by day. He patted himself dry and put on nothing but his sweater, leaving the lower part of his body naked. He was always careful to leave his feet, toes, and legs exposed, for one does not wear gloves when one wants to feel.

He sat on the floor as the tunes played, tunes that helped him dream. The kind of music that inspired his imagination, that made him more present. The kind of tunes that allowed him to hear his heart beat, to know the strength and power in his low breath, and to feel the blood flow through to every microscopic bit of his body. He was a strong and silent creature.

He dried his hair with a towel. He shook his hands all over his head to get as much moisture as he felt right onto the cotton cloth. Then he hung the towel up, and ran his fingers through his hair. It was alive and dead all at once. It was wild and free, and it loved to move with the wind. He laughed as he moved his fingers in a structured chaos throughout his scalp. The skin felt so nourished being massaged like that as the hairs flew up in long stranded clumps and waved all through the room.

He then brushed his hair. Each stroke he did with love. He would pat his head after a few turns, and then ran his fingers through the hair again and again and again. The repeated patterns were the meditative drumbeat he danced to. The hair that had been clumped off, he discarded, but not before the acknowledgement that it was once a part of him. He had built that hair.

The tunes continued to play as the well brushed young man sat on the floor with his hair shiny and neat. Every strand told a story, and when the strands were broken and their time with him was past, new strands would begin to write their own stories. With every bit of hair passing on, a new one would come to life. He smiled as he knew that every bit of him would have its own life to live, its own story to tell. He would be there to cultivate and listen to every last strand.

The She Wolf

The She wolf is a creature that most others find to be quite mythical, but I assure you, she is very real. Like every wolf, she continues to learn about life and the reality of nature as it comes, taking these lessons and applying them as need be. She is fierce and gentle, sometimes fiercely gentle. With teeth that can kill and a heart that can embrace the most wounded of souls.

One of the favorite things the She wolf does is wander through the woods. She interacts with the myriad of creatures and plants and spirits, something most other wolfs have forgotten about or think they are too busy to understand, wolves focusing too much on being wolves. She knows better though, for if she ignores those things she feels, they will call her attention anyway.

She was young once, but those days are now changing. Youth has matured into wisdom, and though her spirit remains playful and innocent, she knows the transient nature of being. Don't be fooled though, the She wolf never takes anything too serious, for life and reality provide a surplus of seriousness to fill her days if she chooses. The She wolf has learned how to live. She will chase her own tail if she feels like playing.

She is a mother to all the wolves, and has an intuition that cannot be coupled. She roams from pack to pack because she is needed. When a pack is wounded and has no other resource, the She wolf will appear. For she is always watching, always listening, and always knows when and where she is needed. It can be a lonely life sometimes, but the She wolf takes her payment in knowing that she is a catalyst for change in all those that meet her.

She has attempted to settle into one pack time and time again, tried to be accepted, to participate in their social customs and be just like them. Try as she might though, there always comes a time when the She wolf gets an insatiable itch and must wander back far into the woods to listen to herself. The packs know this, she knows this, and the earth knows this. The She wolf always must listen to her soul, for it is her soul that knows all, her heart that provides the blood to give life, and her spirit that leads the way. Try as many have to domesticate the She wolf, she never tires of sleeping under the trees on the high mountains able to see the stars. The She wolf is an animal that feels safest while exposed and vulnerable in the vastness of existence. It is the only way she knows how to truly live.

Anant Keeps Moving

Ancestry and fate was a tricky subject for Anant. Just when he thought he had it figured out, the picture always got bigger. He stopped trying to figure everything out, and instead just went with the flow and let collective knowledge guide him. He had accomplished one thing though. He had closed the gaps and opened the doors that needed to be opened in his space in time.

Anant was a restless nurturer. He could smell and sense pain from anywhere, and he always went to it to see if he could help. He was like a doctor at times too, sometimes he could only patch up the wounds and give advice, it was up to others to maintain the healing. His time had been so chaotic for the past millenia. He went from being incredibly naive like the days under the great tree, to being a fierce protector of dreams himself.

He had played no small role in creating the existence and reality that we all live collectively, but he was a very old soul and was extremely tired. This would be his last cycle. When he died in this life, he would go back into the nothingness and be the blank slate for others to utilize. That is of course, if he so chose that. He had had many last cycles before, but like a true healer, he kept going back for more.

Just because he was old however, did not mean his life was over. We are born dead so that we can die alive. This point became clearer to Anant as the days went by. More and more people who would help him and love him for who he was were beginning to walk into his life and him into theirs. He had been listening really well to the things that called him, he always did and always will. This time however, it wasn't his naiveness that took him to places and people, it was his confidence that he could influence others positively in a transformative way. Anant always walked along in the chaos full of the shadows, fears, and death that others rarely want to face or converse with. He had made a ton of friends in these forgotten or ignored worlds, and they were grateful that someone was finally listening.

The great thing now was that because Anant had worked so hard, there were other people who were remembering too. He could feel a huge handful of them now. People who wanted to go on adventures with him, get drunk, be happy, change the world. You know, the usual. These folks had remembered. Not only had they just remembered though, these were the people who had never forgotten. They never stopped believing in love, and so love never had to hide from them. It exists uninhibited all around them because they choose to embrace everything that comes their way.

Anant now had sweet dreams and a life full of crazy intense adventures and beauty. That's just how he liked it. He knew that one day, there would be plenty of other adventurers who would join him, and maybe even an adventurer who would want to have adventures together. Anant was no easy person to please, and shadows protected him. He feared nothing, and so a fellow adventurer would have to do the same. There were about a million of them, and they were all now looking for each other. If Anant knew anything about adventurers like him, he knew that they always found what they were looking for, even if they don't know what it is until they find it. They had always been that good at getting things done. Always.

Symphony of Stars

The storytellers always came in pairs. Existence knew that the dance of love was not something that could or should ever be done alone. We are all exponentially more powerful and caring when there is someone else we can put all our love into.

These two storytellers were in high demand across the universe. They traveled as light far and wide, singing, loving, dancing, hoping, dreaming. They had acquired all the responsibility of head storytellers and were beginning to tell their story. Art, dance, everything thry did was love. They were remembring the other planets, how the massive symphony halls would be packed to the brim as folks would watch them dance. They had never charged anything for their performaces, money and currency in the form of paper and coins was a strictly earthly thing.

The earth had recruited their light because she wanted her inhabitants to join in the dance and song of love that the storytellers were able to sing. In exchange, she brought their entire family with them and allowed them to converse with her and kept all of their loved ones safe. She was a kind young planet who was really beginning to show her potential as the storytellers had not even given her a performance yet. She wanted to make sure that they had all they needed and lacked nothing.

The earth wanted their performance to be the best in the universe. The stars of the show were almost ready, soon the curtains of ignorance would open, and the storytellers would take their place in the universal realm and make the stars shine again. It's what they had always done and were good at, but the earth had special plans for them, and everything was excited and watching. Only a few more days until they would give everyone the universal show of a lifetime. Folks would be able to have sweeter dreams and peace. The storytellers were simply going over the script now, but even they didn't know what would happen. They were remembering how to dance, but this time, they were going to put on the most beautiful performance they had ever done since the creation of their light. This time, they would be the storytellers to create the story of love.

Liu Fang: On a theme of an air to dance, composed by Liu Tianhua from liufangmusic on Vimeo.

Coldplay - Lovers in Japan/Reign of love

Starlight

The sisters had figured it out. They had mapped the true dreamers, and they were coming tonight. Thet literally brought the stars from the heavens to their dreams to start the process. Since one of the dreamers had forgotten quite a bit, the first dreamer would go into his dreams slowly to introduce all the images of their previous adventures and missions. They were to begin working with the sisters far far away immediately, and not a single sleeping moment was wasted.

Both dreamers began to see images of the land far away in the stars, as well as the other dreamer's waking life. They were quickly exchanging each other's knowledge. It was important that they knew everything about each other in order to remember. The two sisters had finally been able to map them correctly, and were able to begin work with them. The four of them began to exchange memories as well as imaginations. The last dreamer would need a bit more help on the exchanging, but the other three worked patiently and understandingly. It wasn't until he could remember everything completely that all of their dreams would become more vivid and the four of them could start dreaming with each other again.

It was no small task, but these four dreamers were no pushovers. They began to share information not only by communicating with their planets, but by now being able to be in each other's dreams. They were all excited that they had finally figured out how to do it. It was time to have fun with the last dreamer. They were all quite playful after all.