A Message from Ethiopia

A sine wave of concern washes over me like shards of watery paper mache, sticking to every bit of my day, washing over my soul innards til’ the mask of pericardial indifference I breathe crumbles. Emotional putty, that’s all I really am at the end of a year like this one. Never one for stoicism, I always wear my heart on the proverbial sleeve. How could I NOT care, is the real question; how could anyone not care?

Like a gnat circling the blue tinged fluorescence of a 2am porch light, my thoughts arrive jumbled, rushed and slightly crushed, seeking only to find a dreamy repository for restful frequencies if even through sublimation by electric zap. I can no longer differentiate which narrative in the media speaks the truth; the past events of 2020 weigh heavy in the heart, soul and mind of the collective consciousness . We are no single thread in the tapestry of existence, why don’t others recognize hatred hurts us all?

My sleepy town, with rivers that trickle into the Atlantic Ocean, harbors one white ibis. A whisper from her travels reverberates through the ossicles of my ear, a haunting lament? I press my foot on the gas pedal with more gumption as the light flickers from green to yellow, soon I will be late for class.

Every media headline reminds me of patterns from bold font bald faced lies in Times New Roman streamers of gradeschool textbooks. Even a 7th grader can wonder “…gee, who was paid to write this, for what, for whom and why…?” It is harder to erase history now that we are all able to witness it happening in real time from our phones.

The images of Ahmaud and Breonna circulate in my mind, people I never knew but love just the same. The grim reality is we step upon the same soil as sons and daughters of hate groups. Like leeches, they slowly drain the blood of the Dream for society, the Dream of Unity. Like a piece of gum that doesn’t want to leave the roof of your mouth, words from the news echo. Truths which cannot be altered, the wrong side of truth. Where did the arc of humanity begin, where did it go wrong? The epigenetic traces of philosophical divergence can be seen on a cellular level, embedded our DNA. The idea of exaggerated scarcity a root in the formula of hatred?

Who’s version of time is recorded as supreme, why does Ethiopia have a different set of time than our 12 hour day, why are some heinous crimes forgiven and others punished for a liftetime? Why do we mask symptoms of sadness with pills, is it because we have no time to heal? Who decided the Western Way was a main stay for the byway of being? Where does the story of human spirituality emerge, and the fictitious representations of reality begin? Which history and current narrative align with the Truths?

It was a drizzling damp day but the thick fog of early morning magic over Lake Matoaka made it all worthwhile. For some reason, she was drawn to bodies of water, especially lakes. A scrawny fox leaped in front of her path, darting with cavernous eyes. Unsurprisingly a few minutes later she heard the frenetic squawking of geese as they scattered like dynamite into the morass of mist. Presumably the two had met?

This was her escape from life, her moment to be free and one with nature. Nearby was the women’s shelter and adjacent transitional housing for the homeless population. Transient is better, homeless implies we don’t belong on Earth. The tall steely church doors always seemed ominous, as if to say there is nothing you can do to change this system; go away.

She gingerly left the dry warmth of cracked leather seats for the dreary cataclysm outside. Still, thoughts of ancient times consumed her, she always felt like she didn’t belong in the modern world. Something was missing? Something, or someone. Perhaps an entire philosophy?

The rain began to pour harder now as she approached the tables of the schoolyard terrace, searching for shelter under the green and gold umbrellas. On one table, barely visible in the blanket of rain, was a pristine moleskin black notebook. There were no scuffs on the edges, no tattered signs of use. A single elastic band held the pages together in crisp perfection, shielding the yield of mysteries within. Not a soul was around, it seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

Delicately, she approached the first page, justified by her intentions of returning lost property. The paper looked like ancient papyrus, despite its unsullied out-of-the artisanal lab appearance. There was a faint glowing aura around the midnight blackness, the veil of reality seemed a little brighter to her naked eye; the fragments of light a little clearer.

“If you find this, uncover my message, count backwards from three and say a prayer to your highest self. You have been chosen to see a Truth, share it with my People.” The angelic memo oozed out of the pages in rivulets of sound, a barely audible sigh sashaying through the echos of the deluge.

Clarissa felt chills ripple up and down the hairs of her raindrop soaked arm. The original plans for her day no longer seemed important. She raced back to her car and fled to her apartment. A thirty minute process with some off the shelf cheap tincture of lemon and iodide, a technique she read about in the Nancy Drew series, revealed a simple message: seek me and the message of the covenant shall be yours to share, with love.

Without a further moment’s notice, she counted backwards from three and said “Dear Universe, allow me to help Earth heal, starting myself and those around me. Heal us all.”

Within a twinkling nanosecond a blinding flash of blue gold light embraced every essence of her being, a bokeh shimmer in every periphery of sight imaginable. Had she finally died and gone to heaven?

Then with a thud, she collapsed to the ground in a shroud of weightless density that seemed to lift and suffocate her at the same time. Anyone watching would've seen her body levitating in air, suspended.

When she finally came to, she looked up and saw the most beautiful lake spanning across the distance, peppered with islands of twisted trees scattered along burnt sienna banks. The air was hot, and the mirage of heat in the distance caused the sparkling reflections to ripple and dance in tantalizing meditation, licks of flame upon the shifting currents. She realized she was in the middle of the lake, on an island covered in lilies and black orchids. A lady dressed in white robes with her hair piled on top of her head with indigo box braids was wading through the placid shallow water of the shore, ibises on her shoulder. Two leopards watched over her with sphinx eyes by the sage green tendrils of grass, a yellow fronted parrot atop each regal haunch. A piece of eden, like a forbidden mirage had appeared in front of her. She wasn't sure what to do, how to react. The beautiful Goddess looked up, smiled, and appeared, as if she had glitched through time, right in front of her, another shock to process.

“Welcome my child, our time is brief, I have a gift for you. It is a gift for you to share, the gift itself is the happiness you will receive should you do my bidding, which I know you will. You were the only one who paid attention to my little portal, the black notebook.”

“…oh…um, well HI I’m Clarissa, I’m here to serve?…w-who are you?”

“Think of me as a keeper of time, I have no name the human mind can comprehend nor tongue can utter. Just rest assured I am on the side of goodness and love. I've been searching for someone with a kind soul like yours to help some lost souls nearby, a task that can only happen as planned with human intervention, the start of the domino. I hold within me spiritual power, vested by the creator of the Arc of the Covenant, which transmutes an eternity of secrets fashioned in likeness by its simple representation: a golden sarcophagus, a pathway to the unknown .”

She gestured towards the most gorgeous gold throne of bejeweled artistry, bewitchingly stunning in the sunned Lake Tana. A pastoral scene of peace and pristine beauty.

“So you’re saying you have the arc of the covenant, the holy grail countless people have been searching for and you’re going to let me see it?”

“My child, the truth is, what’s inside pales in comparison to the feeling it will transubstantiate into your being, it goes within your soul. There is no way to truly describe what’s in it as long as you walk as a human on earth, but what I can say is that by being near it, you shall absorb a frequency no other human has, which I bestow upon you to complete this task of helping others. When you return to your home, you will never be the same. I will give you the means to help those suffering around you find help. My instructions for you are to find ten people at the shelter and divide the money I send to you so they may escape the cycle of despair they're stuck in, which is causing a block to the creative gifts and solutions they could be sharing with the world for their own happiness and to change Earth for the better. They will come in divine order, no discrimination for age or background. Remember, each person must be helped equally, as they are part of the shifting consciousness of the universe. They are important threads in the woven fates of time. Go forth and help them. I must leave you now, drink in this sight, feel the ancient magic of love around you, and take it with you to deliver this task. You and these ten people will be the start to a new movement of love to fight the void left in hatred's wake that has metastasized in our divided nations . Evil comes in many forms, including willful neglect to the Truths. Help them and the reward for you will exceed any expectations you could possibly imagine, in this life and the next. Remember Lake Tana, and the people of Ethiopia who live here, they are the chosen ones to help all humanity remember their compassion for one another”

With these powerful words, the Goddess disappeared and so did the heavenly scene.

Just as quickly as she came, Clarissa was back in her town by the church doorway, the shelter. In her palm was a notification from her mobile banking app: $20,000. Then a text appeared: Remember to share this love, shift the tides. It vanished just as quickly as she saw it. Right then and there, the door creaked open, and a young woman peered from the other side. Her eyes looked sad, her clothes tattered. Clarissa looked back and felt the clarity of ease with her newfound purpose: she must start now.

“I want to give you something, no strings attached, because I think you deserve it just for being you. Do you have a smartphone?”

"Yes, doesn't everyone?" Her laughter echoed in the stone church walls behind her like silvery bells. She gestured for Clarissa to come inside.

There were others like her, with sad eyes, lined in the pews, every shade of skin, every religion. It was a commonplace modern diaspora, of transient lives shattered by poverty. Hidden in plain view.

Clarissa was ready to help change that though, and she knew together they would start a movement of unity no force of nature could deny, for it was through nature she was granted permission to serve as Domino.