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MY SUNDAY JOURNAL By Dalton Roberts IPS Features 3-16-03 RARE FLOWERS A policewoman lived next door to me in an apartment and one early evening when I came home from work she said, "My rare flower only blooms once a year and I hate to miss it. I'm working second shift tonight. Would you watch it bloom and tell me about it. You will not be sorry." All evening I went over every half hour and finally it started blooming. It took over an hour for the magnificent bloom to completely emerge. I sat there spellbound. It was one of the most moving spiritual experiences of my life. There are flowers and there are flowers but this once-a-year bloomer was so rare and such a delightful treat that I have never forgotten it. In my journal today is a 1988 note from songwriter Cecil Null, writer of "I've Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know" and many other great songs. He was the best autoharp player I have ever heard. He was as rare as that flower that kept me down on my knees for an hour. In his letter he said famous folk now avoid him "since my money died." He said, "I had my eyes checked and now they look like little racing flags." He said, "Sometimes I get so mad I want to go to Dallas and climb up in that suppository and look through my vernaculars at the place LBJ built Lady Bird her first 7-11 store and Jackie got a ticket to Greece." Dark humor? Maybe so, but he was so different I am at a loss to compare him to anyone I have ever met. Then in today's entries for another year was a letter from a wild woman who called herself Tall Standing Spruce. Some Indian shaman had laid the name on her. She was given to making life decisions by direct revelation. Spiritual entities came to her and told her what to do, she said. They told her it was meant for us to be together. Then before I could get packed to go and visit her to see if this all-wise entity was right, another entity appeared and told her to stay away from me. It must be hell to have to take all your orders from spiritual entities that just drop in like old friends for a cup of coffee and a chat. Still, I remember her fondly. We were in a workshop together in Orlando and she was the most unusual person there. She beat cancer so she is in touch with at least one authentic entity. And I'll bet it was the one who told her to stay away from me. It knew I wouldn't sit in the car with the motor running while she waited for it to tell us where to go for dinner. I love rare flowers but you've got to watch out for briars. ~~~~~ For other writings by Dalton Roberts, including My Sunday Journals, go to www.daltonroberts.com |
