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Re: [anthroposophy] Mr. Clean and Achille

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  • danifyou@tv.videotron.ca
    I think that if we Chi-run the Good Will, our Legs produce, White Horse, New Eyes, Wing the Head New Thinking - See - Perceive Supersensible the Sophia
    Message 1 of 3 , Aug 2, 2003
      I think that if we Chi-run the Good Will,
      our Legs produce, White Horse, New Eyes, Wing the Head New Thinking - See - Perceive Supersensible the Sophia Weave-World of Wisdom.

      Just like you do. ;)

      You're Welcome.

      ----Message original -----
      De : jan<starbirdgarden@...>
      On 2/8/03 4:51 pm, "danifyou@..." <danifyou@...>

      > 'Karma Chameleon',
      > Researching,
      > Let me call this a Short Mystery Drama for the need of the situation - the
      > narrator speak personnaly, see:
      > 'The Tale of the Night Watchman'
      > Just read this again, and feel it more deeply. This, to me. Is what the
      > Michael School really is. This is in-sight of the first order. It goes to the
      > heart. Many thanks for sharing it, Jan
      > In a context of emergence effulgent-active, 2 days ago I found myself at night
      > working, lobby access-controlling in my building, chatting clothes matter with
      > a friend there employee of "call center" for IBM - basically a helper on the
      > phone, a communicator. So I came to talk to him about the virtues of Egyptian
      > cotton as a fabric excellent summer outfit. To my half astonishment he told me
      > that he was Egyptian himself knowing that matter very well, his father was
      > working in such a field of activity; we agreed at the greatness of that
      > particular type of clothing useless to say. He went on after left went outside
      > smoke a cigarette, while meantime I got into the bright idea of asking if by
      > coincidence his name meant something. Coming back as he was, I asked, and him
      > to tell me indeed, 'Fouad' means Paul he said and 'Boulos': Heart.
      > Then myself to reply: "your parents must be Christian then..."
      > Exactly said he at the same time showing me the tattoo of a Cross, bearing on
      > his wrist...
      > I found our exchange most interesting as he went on next saying he was
      > Orthodox, we talked a bit about the difference between this creed as to when
      > Easter is celebrated for them as oppose to other denominations etc...
      > And so he went back to work, I kept looking at him as he was going away; I was
      > gazing at his countenance broad chess massiveness, thinking how we've always
      > had from the beginning a relation cordial of Mutual Respect; I couldn't miss
      > that indeed he had much of what I could describe as gladiator like features,
      > as opposed to me who with the forces of Imagination much as I grew up; only
      > rised up to a 5' 8" something, but yet athletic though not broad as him. I
      > couldn't help, twas clear to me he once was a warrior, we've known each other
      > by the past no doubt; Sympathy and Intrinsic Recognition of the I's;
      > Harmonious and Peaceful in the chat. But more interesting even it has been
      > when in the morning back home I was heading, walking down Mountain Street, to
      > a park spending some time contemplating the trees, birds, the white clovers
      > carpet and the squirrels stand by them looking and also studying.
      > These creatures are really of Zeus, look at them, in my mind I made the words
      > to resound... Just like lightning, swift and quick from tree to tree, flames,
      > but also as they we're two and playing with a branch like a stick holding and
      > throwing themselves and it in the air, contorsionnists and rolling down
      > allternatively jumping on the trees and going after one another, much like
      > little monkeys!
      > Soon was to arrive a man with a box to drop bread on the ground. I said to
      > myself here is again a story of Squirrels and Bread! Turned out to be like a
      > little Circus as one took a round bun almost larger then himself, looking now
      > as if playing with a balloon!
      > Pigeons didn't take long came along and I went on in the direction of the man
      > who took a seat was drinking a coffee, seated near-by on bench, within the
      > foundations resting, the outer walls, ruins of a church we we're in..
      > As I came close-walked he said: "Heyyyyhhhh!... how are you?..." saluting me
      > with his hand and arm in the air, just like we welcome a friend - as I
      > approached went nearer for a talk that was now to start, we shook hands.
      > That's a big box full of bread there... you're a baker sir asked I, seeing he
      > was somehow dirty with flour on himself...
      > "No no, I zweep my vriend", ok, so Mr. Clean thought I... Went to tell I've
      > been baker assistant once and know how it is about all those things...
      > I had to ask him if he was German, for his accent was to that much likeness..
      > He told he was from the North, Nunavik I think, his mother was native.... I
      > knew he could only have been from such a region, I could see Saturn fire in
      > his eye and dry skin features likeness of the produce of arid earth swept by
      > wind...
      > So he was standing North-West in relation to me(South-East I was - countenance
      > not huge, likeness to the once Krishna in India I'd say..., himself, a
      > combattant of some sort, the features quite muscular) and talking very close
      > to me(his own idiosyncrasy) as in a soldier fashion I'd say, that share to
      > another his strong presence, gesture as if to divulgue a war secret or a
      > strategy to a companion of battle...
      > I felt the North in him, the Ice, the Night, the Aurora Borealis and the Stars
      > and the Music...
      > But what was evenmore strongly manifesting was in fact in him - that he was,
      > full of Folk!
      > To feel a Christ Folk Soul Group region of the North!
      > Corrollary as I realize the situation, he started to talk about the Pro-French
      > enforced LANGUAGE policy of the Qu├ębec government as a law that you cannot
      > have the English as your business only posting name advertised We dialogued,
      > etc.
      > I went to take the bus after a while, short story I had to go, he told me
      > little that he was also working on metal, a roof near by, painting and
      > removing dust as he went speak with what must have been the owner of some kind
      > of warehouse for engines, parts etc. no more details do I give to you beside
      > that this park is right beside where there is horses barns....
      > But one thing is too, that with his shaved head, the name Ajax came to my
      > mind... Indeed as in the Odyssey, making sense, Mr. Clean as I said to myself,
      > Ajax Swept!
      > This lead us to the destiny of Achille and Odysseus. As historical characters
      > in interrelational togetherness with the Gods, it is no small wonder that
      > these guys and others who we're once for a cause together would come back
      > later rise again to interrelate with a God walked with in the flesh as Christ
      > Incarnated on Earth...
      > As I had witnessed 2 warriors in their Modern Peaceful occupations of a
      > carreer in a matter of few hours, namely Ajax and the other I know as
      > Egyptian, yet non formally identified I am also able to now say in a rather
      > blunt way as I am tired and conclude now this post mine after my night of
      > watch, that the Solid I have Recognized here and on which I would build much
      > myself and as he himself has built much and
      > Hyperion-Most High-recognized Christ
      > "the Unique" as Messiah; I am speaking of the Hot Tempered Peter-Achille who
      > drew the Sword and who did cut the ear of a soldier as Christ to him after
      > said that who shall kill with the sword shall perish by the sword.
      > Just as it happened to Odysseus the Baptist...
      > And so this Song Olympic once again as Achille with His Quick Feet Arrived
      > First...
      > (...)
      > "Oh, to sail away
      > To sandy lands and other day
      > Oh, to touch the dream
      > That hides and is never seen, yeah
      > Into the sun, the south the north
      > Flys the birds of gold" !
      > (...)
      > "Oh, to ride the wind
      > To tread the air above the din" ...
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