THE PARABLE OF THE DRAGON AND THE KINGS SON.

OK this one is gonna be long, but the message is life-saving. Taken from a book called Pure Desire by Ted Roberts.


There was once a great and noble king whose land was terrorized by a crafty dragon. Like a massive bird of prey, the scaly beast delighted in ravaging villages with his fiery breath. Hapless victims ran from their burning homes, only to be snatched into the dragon's jaws or talons. Those devoured instantly were deemed more fortunate than those carried back to the dragon's lair to be devoured at his leisure. The King led his sons and knights in many valiant battles against the serpent.
Riding alone in the forest, one of the King's sons heard his name purred low and soft. In the shadows of the ferns and trees, curled among the boulders, lay the dragon. The creature's heavy-lidded eyes fastened on the prince, and the reptilian mouth stretched into a friendly smile.
"Don't be alarmed," said the dragon, as gray wisps of smoke rose lazily from his nostrils. "I am not what your father thinks."
"What are you, then?" asked the prince, warily drawing his sword as he pulled in the reins to keep his fearful horse from bolting.
"I am pleasure," said the dragon. "Ride on my back and you will experience more than you ever imagined. Come now. I have no harmful intentions. I seek a friend, someone to share flights with me. Have you never dreamed of flying? Never longed to soar in the clouds?"
Visions of soaring high above the forested hills drew the prince hesitantly from his horse. The dragon unfurled one great webbed wing to serve as a ramp to his ridged back. Between the spiny projections, the prince found a secure seat. Then the creature snapped his powerful wings twice and launched them into the sky. The prince's apprehension melted into awe and exhiliration.
From then on he met the dragon often, but secretly, for how could he tell his father, brothers or the knights that he had befriended the enemy? The prince felt seperate from them all. Their concerns were no longer his concerns. Even when he wasn't with the dragon, he spent less time with those he loved and more time alone.

The skin on the prince's legs became calloused from gripping the ridged back of the dragon, and his hands grew rough and hardened. He began wearing gloves to hide the malady. After many nights of riding, he discovered scales growing on the backs of his hands as well. With dread he realized his fate were he to continue, and so he resolved to return no more to the dragon.
But, after a fortnight, he again sought out the dragon, having been tortured with desire. And so it transpired many times over. No matter what his determination, the prince eventually found himself pulled back, as if by the cords of the invisible web. Silently, patiently the dragon always waited.


Ok I am going to hold you in suspense in hopes of saving my wrists and to gather a return audience to my blog....Stay tuned the conclusion will be here in two days.

I MUST HAVE BEEN REALLY HUNGRY

Tonight I was invited by a coworker to go to a Buddhist relaxation group. I was fairly hungry and realizing the cupboards were bare, the promise of refreshments proved to be the straw that broke the camels back. So armed with tupperware I took off to the refreshme................I mean Buddhist relaxation group.(jk about the tupperware, i'm not that lame) I was quite curious about what this would all be like, not that I am looking to change religion, but I appreciate a good cultural experience, and hoped a missionary moment would come out of it. When we arrived at this house we removed shoes and went to a room that was too small for the 17 of us. We arrived a little late and the chanting had already begun, so I quietly found the only seat left...IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM and pretended I knew how to chant the prayers that weren't even in English. Luckily the prayer was short, so I thought the experience would end quickly, but they repeated it for the next 10 minutes, after 3 minutes I was getting tired and out of breathe, It felt like a lifetime. It's sort of like getting mugged, it only lasts a few minutes but it seems like a lifetime is passing and you wonder if you're gonna die. For 20 minutes the chanting continued........without ceasing, I mean not even a second. Questions swarmed my oxygen-deprived mind, When will this stop? Will someone get cross if I stop? What will they do if they get cross? When can I breathe? Will they kill me if I stop chanting? How am gonna keep myself entertained through this ordeal? I got an answer to the last one...... ready........ I picked a line that sounded like what they were saying, and just repetaed it, so there I sat chanting "the pickle likes to reggae, it makes my bottom hairy" Ok its weird, but it was keeping me alive and warding off the wrath of the Buddhist nation. The chanting was monotone, so all the words blended and so it didn't really sound like "my bottom is hairy" and when one lipped it, it looked just like the prayer, I found that it gently lulled my immature mind into survival mode...... I was gonna make it. This Buddhist stuff was really working, I was able to find inner peace during external crisis.
Looking around I saw that I was nearly the youngest, most were in their forties and fifties, and one must have been barely 20, she was there with an obviously reluctant boyfriend. He was desperately trying to maintain the chant, look interested and totally focus on the breathing, thank goodness us Mormons have a break between each verse, I've gotta introduce the concept. I decided to play a game in my head called who could chant the longest without stopping. I guessed the young female would outdo us all, heck she was able to roll beads around in her hand while chanting plus hitting the the metal teacup with a stick to signal a new prayer, totally amazing to me. Every ounce of my energy was focused on breathing, remembering my dumb chant and really hoping people would keep chanting to drown out my ridiculous performance. Ahhh the teacup bell, now a new prayer, I have to think of a new chant.........I had no time for beads. Then it happened......the one I had picked out to win went down, she dropped the beads, stopped chanting and stealthily took a swig of her Red Bull. Hah she was weak, it wasn't even halftime and she had already lost, disqualified because of Red Bull and best off all she lived to tell the story. Their were no repercussions, she was gonna be ok, my most pressing questions had been answered, I could stop talking about my hairy bottom and live to tell the story.
After all was said, chanted and done, they had munch and mingle and the refreshments were lame. At least gooey, warm choclotate chip cookies, not the dumb cold hershey kiss plopped down on a pile of rock hard dough, but their it was, a whole platter of Hersheys kisses stranded on islands of dough. On the way home I did get to share the gospel with my co-worker, I talked about God and with an air of despair she told me about how she had stopped believing in God and turned to Buddhism, and how she had a met a Mormon missionary in Japan that promised to go to a Buddhist group if she went to church, so she went, and he didn't hold his promise. That ended her interest in Mormonism, now that I have gone to her group, I hope she will accept my invitation for Sunday morning at 10AM.

THE BRILLIANT CHESS PLAYING MIND

Refer to the dancing post to get the description, now here's the story. Tonight I witnessed this man playing chess, he was brill. We shrugged off his trash-talking, thinking he didn't have a prayer against one of the more brilliant counselors. The challenge from my newfound homeless, schizo dance partner, went like this "Hey Bobby Fisher, you wanna play chess, four in a row in less than an hour, I beat Bobby Fisher four times in less than an hour." So this unsuspecting counselor sidled up to the table and they set up the battlefield of the minds and with confidence the counselor made his first move. Within literally seconds my friend countered. With each loooooooong seemingly well-thought out move by my co-worker, my friend struck back with lightning speed, this went on about three rounds, when suddenly the trash-talking started......."You lost when you sat down, somebody got a magazine, I need something to read, he's boring......If you move that knight I'm gonna laugh at you" The next move was check mate and my co-worker went down in a blaze of glory. In less than ten minutes my fellow employee had been turfed by a homeless, schizophrenic, and may I add most BRILLIANT man. I still dont know where he found the time to whoop him the way he did around all the trash-talking. Although I should have taken the time to console a counselors bruised ego, I was too proud of my new friend so instead I basked with this him in his victory. Then I conducted his post-match interview, but that is a blog in and of itself..................................... so stay tuned

How on Earth do you clever people put a title on a post?????

I'll title my blog...My Blog Duh

I'll title my blog...My Blog Duh

I have been told by a few that I need to journalize my current job experience on the psyche ward, unfortunately writing alone will not justify the whole experience. The most inspiring day at work occurred just a few days ago when an old black homeless man taught me his schizophrenically inspired favorite song. I mention he was black not because I am racist, but to stress that although dinosauric in age he still had rhythm, let me further paint the picture then I shall tell the story. We are talking about six foot three, and about 80 pounds, so when he moved he really wriggled, he can move to the rhythm and keep up with the beat.........his own rhythm and his own beat, he has one eye, no teeth, and a reverse mohawk (shaved down the middle and alien dreds sticking out each side, just trying to get the imagery down for y'all. The title of the song The beer rabbit after making sure I had heard the title right, I had him favor me with this piece, are y'all ready for this???? The chorus goes the beer rabbit, the beer rabbit, the beer rabbit, the first (only) verse is a question which is (brace yourselves) Who brings you your beer, well let me tell you its (chorus) Then the great thing about this song is..................................................................................... that its easy to memorize. This song excited my newfound cycloptic friend so, that with each round he started to get groovey, first the head bob and then the beanpole frame stood up and started to shimey all over the unit, and thats when he came up with the second verse......... He looks at me and says come on now rock with me brother. So the head gets going and soon we are both getting down clapping and dancing to my new favorite song. What a great guy he is with the amazing ability to get those with no rhythm to rise up and dance. To think the life he knew was the sidewalks of Boston, and yet he found joy within himself, what a lesson taught.

I wonder if I'll have two blogs now

An Experiment

So here I am writing in this big box, but my technological prowess is not prowessing, so I don't know if I am writing a mere description, or am I indeed kicking off my blogging career with this pathetic entry. Well I know what, I'll hang up or signoff or whatever you puter people call it and listen to the message to see how it sounds. If this is indeeD MY FIR (Ahhh... bloomin' Caps Lock) first official blog, then I apologize profusely for its stammering explanation that it has become, and feel safe in the knowledge that...........I shall redeem myself soon.