I had very intense days lately. There has been a lot going on, a lot of jumping around, and a lot of communicating. While these are all the things that I love, I did feel like my creative juice was missing. I felt like there was nothing I could put out here, both because my mind was too tired to express itself, and because my spirit was too distraught to hear what I should write about tonight. Well, this was true until five minutes ago. As I was telling Svarun a goodnight story, I got a message to share. A reminder, more like. So my dear ones, since telling you to close your eyes and listen to the story would be absurd, rather keep your eyes open and keep on reading.
There once was a mother goat that had two little goats: billy goat named Rudi, who was three and a half, and a baby goat called Alice. One night after dinner, mother goat said to Rudi: “My dearest boy, it’s getting late. Go pee, put your pajamas on and brush your teeth.”
Rudi looked at his mother and nonchalantly said: “No.”
His mother looked at him, and said: “I beg your pardon?” Rudi repeated: “No, I won’t.”
His mother looked at him and said nothing, but took Alice into her arms and started breastfeeding her, while Rudi went to play with his Lego’s.
After a few minutes, mother goat said again: “Rudi, it’s time you went to bed. Go pee, put on your pajamas, brush your teeth and go to bed.”
Rudi didn’t even look at his mother, but said: “No.”
His mother looked at him, and said: “I beg your pardon?” Rudi told her again: “No, I won’t.”
His mother looked at him and said nothing, but continued to breastfeed his little sister. At some point, Rudi asked his mother: “Mommy, can you give me some water?”
Rudi’s mother said: “No, I can’t.” Rudi didn’t like her answer, so he got a bit angry. He stood up fiery and started marching towards the kitchen, when he stepped on a Lego. Now, anybody who ever stepped on a Lego knows it’s no fun. But Rudi’s anger made his step a bit too heavy and the accident much more painful. Rudi shrieked, crashed down on the floor and started crying over his accident.
He said: “Mommy, come help me. I’m hurting.” But his mother said: “No, I won’t.”
Rudi cried: “Why won’t you help me? Don’t you love me?” His mother replied: “My dear Rudi. Why didn’t you do the things I asked you to? Don’t you love me?” Rudi said nothing.
His mother kneeled to him and in the most compassionate way said: “My dear, don’t you know that everything I tell you to do is for your own good? If you did what I told you, the accident wouldn’t even happen, because you would be lying in bed by now, where there are no Lego’s to step on. What I’m here for is to protect you and what you are here for is to learn to trust me.”
I went on to tell the story until the final hug and kiss, but I’m stopping here now. I feel that in a lot of ways, we are all like billy goat Rudi, while the Universe is the mother goat. All of us are constantly given gentle guidance from the Universe in form of feelings, the sequences of angelic numbers, the songs we hear on the radio, our “mistakes”. The answers are given before we ask, but do we listen? Are we willing to receive and trust?