18 March 2015
The evening sun lit up the edge of some large, dark clouds. I’d watched them come from the South. First the wind, then the birds’ calls. The rain was coming, and a good thing too. The pond would be full for the autumn community festival. With clear water, our family would be perfectly clean. Clothes pristine and beautiful with not a speck of dirt, and the happy, pure feeling of looking our best.
I mulled over the upcoming festival. It would be a week of celebrations, where the community welcomed people from the city and from other villages to experience our culture and natural products. This year was a special ten-year celebration from when the first public gathering was held at the village hall. Over the years, we’d found that people were willing to pay huge sums of money to visit our village, and it had become the easiest and most enjoyable way to fund our outreach and healing projects.
It was also an opportunity for us neighbours to display what we’d been creating over the last year. Some families displayed their hand-woven textiles, wood carvings, honey, preserves, baked goods, ointments, medicines, oils, cosmetics, balms, teas, books and a huge variety of exotic fruits, vegetables and berries to try. Other families offered workshops, master-classes and tours of the local area. Every night there was joyous dancing, music and a big bonfire.
There is a good feeling at our festivals. Young men and women come from all around the world to find their soul mates, and oldsters come to bask in the vibrant energy. We gather together truly the greatest variety of ecologically pure products and services available anywhere in the country, and people have really been beginning to notice.
The previous year, the federal government had offered us a twenty million dollar development grant as part of a new ecological regeneration program. They wanted us to establish a new settlement similar to ours on an adjacent property. They told us we’d demonstrated entrepreneurial innovation in creating scalable ecological businesses. The money was for us to buy a suitable piece of land, organise the founding group and allocate plots and start-up grants to the new residents.
In the village meeting, we had laughed that the government seemed to be making us into a new department. We’d decided to accept the project only if they made an official Australian Government Department of Love in Families (DLF), with our village council as the first office-bearers. The Prime Minister was a little surprised at the suggestion, but readily agreed.
And it wasn’t just the government that was interested. The village had become become so well-known among tourists that any one of our residents could offer a place for guests, and it would be booked within a few days. We kept raising our prices but the interest only seemed to grow. It was beginning to be a joke among us now.
For five years, we’d been invited to send a delegation to an international conference of pure-minded entrepreneurs in Moscow, Shanghai and New York. That was fun, to talk with the international community about how to make an ecologically pure lifestyle available to everyone. Next year, I was going to the conference in Novosibirsk, Russia. It would be my first trip as community delegate.
There was a movement between the distant trees, and I broke from my reverie. Birch and eucalyptus leaves shimmered in the wind, and I smelled the sweet fragrance of linden blossom on the breeze. My young son emerged from the woods and walked towards me with a relaxed gait. Still young, lean and muscular, his body bespoke perfect balance and inner strength, not the heaviness of unnatural training. He walked past the house, caressing the earthen walls with his eyes. Past the pond, waterlilies blooming, he came up the grassy slope to where I was sitting.
I watched him fondly until he arrived within conversation distance.
“Hello, my dear father,” he said. “I hope I am not interrupting your thoughts. May I ask you a question?”
“Not at all, my dear son. You timed your arrival perfectly. I’m glad to hear your question.”
He began, “I was contemplating in the woods, among the plants and animals. I was looking back into the past.” He stopped, waiting for a response.
I said, “Why did you do that?”
“To see the energies of history that I have arrived among. And to decide how best to complete my mission here.”
“Very well. And tell me, what did you see in the past?”
“Papa Kem, I was trying to see how you and Mama found each other and made me together. The bond between you and Mama is so strong, I could see it. But you were looking for each other for so long. You should have found each other straight away. Your souls knew each other even when you were children.”
“My dear son, you’re right that it took a long time.”
He said, “Papa, why did it take so long?”
“In the technologic world where we grew up, there was tremendous confusion about how to find one’s beloved partner. I, and your Mama too, were part of this confusion. It was very difficult for us to find each other. In that world, people hide their souls and their sensitivity to each other fades. For many years, I didn’t know how I would find her among the millions of people.”
“How did you find her, Papa Kem?”
“I began asking questions with my soul.”
“First I asked her where she was, but she couldn’t always hear me. Sometimes I understood her response, but other times it was confused.”
“Eventually, I had to ask someone who knew her even better.”
“Someone else? But who?”
“I asked you, my dear boy.
“Yes, you are the one who brought us together.”
His face furrowed with a look of deep concentration, thinking hard for a moment. Then he grinned and looked at me. “That’s right, I remember now.”
“My son, may I ask you a question?”
“Why did you bring me and your Mama together?”
He smiled again. “Because I wanted you to be together. And the whole Universe, and the dream of the one who created it all, they wanted it too. And you wanted it, as well, Papa Kem. Didn’t you?”
At that very moment, from around the side of our cosy earthen house, the meadow of flowers, tender berries and herbs, where vegetables grew among the grasses, a woman’s voice rang out. It sang a cheerful tune with a sweet and confident voice.
The whole world seemed to brighten and quiver with pleasure. Every flower petal and blade of grass began vibrating, trembling at the clear ringing beauty of her voice. The sparkling pond glittered and I felt a hot raindrop fall and kiss my skin:—
“And it rained on Heaven,
And it rained on Hell,
And it drowned the mountain,
It filled the well. All is well.”
My son and I watched from beneath the tree as the marvellous woman appeared. She walked over to the swelling pool of water and took a cupped the water in her hand. The song finished and she took a small sip. The rain fell harder. Small rivulets streamed into the pond.
Suddenly, the magnificent woman looked up and saw us sitting under the oak tree, on the other side of the garden.
Our gaze met for a split second. She blushed and smiled towards us.
A feeling of great warmth enveloped the three of us. Raindrops fell through the setting sun. I thought, “Yes, my dear son. I wanted it very much.”
The young fellow jumped up and did a little dance on the spot. “Come on, Papa, let’s go swimming with Mama as the sun sets so we can see the stars appear in our pool!”
He started off at a run, doing a little cartwheel and flipping happily towards the water. I leapt up and followed him, cartwheeling and skipping behind him.
Before us, the sky shone orange, pink and red, as the sun went down over the horizon. Another day becomes another night. And then comes day again…