Category: the spirit guides

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Margaret’s Return

“Thanks for bringing the coffee, Basil.”

“I always bring the coffee, Margaret.”

Margaret looked up at Basil and grinned, “I know.  I appreciate that, so I thank you.”

Basil twisted the lid off the thermos.  “That’s one of the things I love about you, Margaret, besides your pie.  You are always thanking everyone.”

Gladys adjusted her skirt as she approached the others.  “It kind of sounded like you were calling us together for a meeting, Margaret.”

Margaret handed Gladys a thin slice of lemon meringue.  “It’s more of a Going Away Party, dear.”

Just then, Jon road up on his skateboard.  “Who’s going away?”

Margaret handed Jon a larger slice of pie and said, “I am.”

Basil grinned.  “Nice, Margaret.  It’s your time to return?  I’ll miss you, but I’m happy for you.  Are you excited?”

Through a mouthful of lemon meringue, Jon said, “Cool!”

Gladys perched on top of a grave marker.  “I’m thrilled for you Margaret!  Tell us, what are you hoping for?  What do you want to learn?  Who do you hope to see?  Oh!  I can’t wait for my turn to return!”

Before taking another bite, Jon asked, “How many times have you returned, Margaret?”

“Oh, dear.  I’ve lost track.  Really.”  She paused a moment, then looked up at the sky and said, “I have no idea.”  Margaret wiped her hands on her apron and reached for the coffee Basil had poured for her.  She looked at her friends.  “You all ask good questions.  I’ve been contemplating this next return.  You know, it’s funny, Jon.  I’m not apprehensive about the returns anymore, so I guess that says I’ve returned enough times to get the hang of it, so to speak.  I look forward to them.”  She chuckled and took another sip.  “Yes, Basil, I am excited to return.  And to your questions, Gladys.  Well, of course I’m prepared to learn more.  After all, that is the whole point of the return.  As to what I hope to learn, I have to say, I’m hoping to learn something other than service.”  Again, she laughed and took a bite of pie.

Basil said, “But service is just about the highest calling.”

Jon looked at Basil, “What’s the highest calling?”  Basil replied, “Fishing, of course.”  All four laughed as Basil poured himself another half inch of coffee.

Gladys smiled, “I’d be pretty tired of serving if I were you, Margaret.  You’ve elevated service to a new level.  It’s about time someone served you for a change!”

Margaret laughed.  “That sounds like you, Gladys.  But honestly, I’m sure I’m not done serving.  That’s who I am.  But I am tired.  Serving, thinking about how to serve, thinking about who to serve, and wondering if I’m doing enough… It’s exhausting.  It’s not that I want pampering in the next go-round, although I wouldn’t turn that down.”  Basil and Jon looked at each other and winked.  “But maybe I’ll learn a new way to serve that doesn’t leave me so tired.  I hope I learn how to serve others while serving myself, too.  Does that make sense?  Gladys, sometimes I think you’ve already got that figured out.”

Gladys laughed.  “Well, we all know that my scale tips in the direction of serving myself before others.”  Gladys smoothed the pleats of her skirt.  “I’m not always sure that’s a good thing, but I also don’t feel the need to change.”  They all chuckled as they nodded in agreement.

Margaret stood up to get ready to serve another piece of pie.  “See what I mean?  My need to serve others is automatic.  I would like to get my scale to a balanced point where I can serve myself and others.  And as far as who I hope to see…”  Margaret reached for the pie server.  “I know I’ll be seeing you all again, at some point.  We certainly won’t be in the same roles, but I’ll run into you, for sure.  Jon, I hope you’ll be older.”  Jon said, “Me, too!”

Basil said, “Maybe we’ll do a little fishing together, Margaret!”  Margaret laughed and said, “I suspect we’ve already done that, Basil.  But we’ll most likely be doing something together again.”

Margaret sat down and sighed.  “I’m ready for a rest.  I’m ready to take stock in what I’ve learned, and get prepared for the next lessons.”  She looked at Jon.  “How do you younger folks put it?  Recharge batteries?  I need to recharge my battery.”  She reached behind to untie her apron.

Jon reached out and said, “Here, Margaret.  Maybe it’s my turn to serve?”  She hung the apron on a branch of a nearby tree and turned to hug Jon.  “You don’t need an apron to serve, dear.”

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The Spirit Guides Watch TV

Jon hopped off his skateboard and approached the bench from behind.  He could see the three of them sitting side by side.  As he got closer, he could hear talking and …

Wait, was that the sound of a gavel?

As he walked around the bench, he could see an old TV had been placed on a grave marker.  “What are you guys doing?!”

Through a mouthful of pie, Basil said, “We’re watching the impeachment trial.”

Without taking her eyes off the screen, Gladys said, “Shhhh!”

Margaret whispered, “Grab a piece, dear, and join us.  There’s room.  Scoot to the edge, Gladys.  Make some room.”

Jon grabbed some pie and perched next to Margaret.  He whispered, “I wondered where you guys were.  This isn’t the usual bench.”

Basil said, “We had to find a bench next to a plug-in.”  Jon said, “Cool!  Where’d you get the TV?”

Gladys scowled at Basil, “Shhhh!”

 

They sat for awhile and watched.  At one point, Basil got up to get a second piece of pie.  Margaret had made French Silk that day.  Jon walked over and asked if Basil had any more coffee.  “I brought an extra thermos because I knew we’d be here for awhile.”  Jon said, “Great.  So, Basil, why are we watching this?”  Basil unscrewed the top of the thermos, “It’s the impeachment trial for Trump, the former president.”  Jon held out a cup.  “Why do we care?”  Basil laughed, “We don’t, but it’s interesting to see how they conduct themselves, and why they all find this so important.”

Margaret approached.  “They’re done for the day.  Good time to stretch the legs.”  Jon took a fork full, “I’d have thought you’d make an apple pie today, Margaret.  You know, kind of an American pie.”  Jon laughed at himself.  Margaret wiped her hands on her apron, “I’m a little disgusted with America right now, Jon, so I opted for something else.”  Jon looked at Basil, “Apparently Margaret cares about this trial.”

Gladys walked over, shaking her head.  “Don’t you find it fascinating that they even have to have a trial for that guy?  Shouldn’t he already be in jail?”  Basil looked at Jon as he pointed at Gladys, “Tread lightly near that one.”  Margaret shook her head, “Seems a waste of time when everyone knows how the vote will go.  You could have all the evidence in the world, but the other side made up their minds before they even began.”

With both hands on her hips, Gladys said, “What are they supposed to do now?  Are they supposed to move on and pretend none of this ever happened?  Do they just let him get away with it?!  Doesn’t this pave the way for this to happen again?  Do ANY of them read history?”

Jon backed away and looked at Basil.  “I thought you said we didn’t care?”  Basil laughed, “Well, I guess I meant that I don’t care.  I came for the pie.”

Now Margaret put her hands on her hips.  Both Gladys and Margaret faced Basil.  At the same time, they both said, “Why don’t you care, Basil?”

 

Basil put his plate down and leaned against a tree.  He took a breath and said, “First of all, I’ll remind you that we don’t have to care.  We can view this from a distance.  Fortunately.”  Basil crossed his arms, “I would suggest that the living do the same thing.  Other than those on the front lines fighting the fight, what can most of them do?  Can all those watching TV or listening to the radio …”  Jon interrupted and said, “Or checking their social media!”  Basil said, “Right, Jon.  That, too.  Can any of them really make a difference other than elevating their blood pressure?  Shouldn’t they focus on what they can do?  They can improve their own lives and focus on their families.  They can make progress in their corner of the country.”

Gladys leaned in, “They could focus on truth!  They could stop spreading lies!  They could do their homework and read and quit jumping to conclusions.”

“True,” Basil said, “but that has to start in their own home.”

Margaret relaxed and said, “Basil is right.  There are warriors who are cut out for this.  Not everyone is cut out to be a warrior.  The rest could clear the way to let those warriors do the work, but back them up by cleaning up the messes in their own backyards.  They could fight in their own way.  They could start by making sure their neighbors have enough to eat.”

Gladys said, “And making sure their neighbors have a roof over their heads, while they are at it.”

Basil said, “I agree with both of you.”

Gladys said, “Isn’t it also the government’s responsibility to feed and house the masses?”

Basil laughed, “That depends on who you ask.”

Gladys said, “Fine.  But when the masses lose trust in their government, won’t they lose hope in the process?  And when they lose hope in the process, what’s next?  Anarchy?”

Basil said, “Whoa, Gladys!  History proves that the process prevails.”

Margaret said, “History also proves that the top rarely looks out for the bottom. And while they are busy repeating history, who makes sure there’s enough food and shelter?  And, Basil, you know better than to say, ‘Whoa, Gladys.'”

Basil smiled,  “That’s right, Margaret.  Gladys, I apologize.  What I mean to say is that if they focus on their own stories and work on change in their own part of the world, the process can prevail. The top will only ever care about power.”  With a mouthful, Jon said, “And money.”  Basil, said, “That, too, Jon.  The top will never concern itself with the story of the common people, other than to give their story lip service in order to gain more power.  It’s up to the masses to look out for each other.”

 

Jon said, “And they can vote, Basil.  That’s where they can make a difference.  They can vote.”

Basil patted Jon on the back, “You’re absolutely right about that, Jon.”

Gladys huffed, “That’s all fine, until the top takes away their right to vote.”

Margaret put her hand on Gladys’ shoulder,  “Then they make darn sure they don’t vote for the ones who take away the votes of others, dear.  And in the meantime, they make sure their neighbors have enough.”  Margaret re-tied her apron, “Meet back here tomorrow.  I’m making German Kuchen.”

Basil laughed.  “See you tomorrow.  I’ll bring another thermos.”

 

 

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Slow Learners

“Seriously, Margaret, why wouldn’t they wear a mask?  How tough is that?”

“Jon, that’s an interesting question coming from one who refused to wear a helmet when skateboarding.”

“Yeah, but I was the only one at risk.  That’s different.”

“I see your point.  But why wouldn’t you wear a helmet?”

Jon thought for a minute, trying to remember what it was like to glide on a board in his physical form.  “I guess I felt freer without one.  When I was learning to skate, I had to wear one.  Then when I got good enough, I didn’t fall as much, so I didn’t need one.”

Margaret wiped her hands on her apron.  “You needed one, dear, but most likely there was no one around to remind you to put one on.  Maybe the folks who refuse to wear masks feel freer by not wearing one.  Hand me that bowl of lemons, dear.”

Jon reached for the bowl of lemons, “Not the same, Margaret.  Not at all the same.”

 

“Margaret!  What kind are you making today?”  Gladys sat down and smoothed the pleats of her skirt.

“I’ve been feeling like lemon meringue.  It’s summer, and summer calls for lemon meringue.  We’ll have to eat it quick.  The meringue never keeps for long.”

Gladys laughed, “I’m sure we won’t have a problem.”

Gladys tugged on her necklace as she thought how to ask, “Why do you think they’re still talking about how Black Lives Matter?  They’ve been going on about that for so long.  You’d think they’d have figured it out by now.”

Margaret separated yolks from whites into a small bowl.  “Interesting, isn’t it.  And we still see struggles on other fronts, too.  Women haven’t progressed much further than in my day.”

“Progress still takes so damn long.”  Basil walked up and took a seat.  “Snails pace, I tell ya.  When those, that have, risk losing any of what they got, they’ll do all they can to make damn sure no one else gets any.”

Margaret reached for a lemon, “I imagine it’s hard to relinquish control when you’ve had it for so long.”

Jon laughed.   “Those who need control have no clue how great life is when you don’t worry about controlling everything.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “Spoken like a guy who never wore a helmet.  Folks control when dealing with uncertainty.  Uncertainty causes fear.  Controlling is how they deal with fear.”

Jon looked at Gladys.  “Do you think that’s why they won’t wear masks – because deep down they’re afraid?  And because of that, NOT wearing a mask is their way of controlling their fear?”

Basil took a sip of coffee and shook his head.  “Nah.  That’s a nice theory Jon but, I don’t buy it.  Lots of folks are just plain lazy.  They don’t like being inconvenienced.”

“And lots don’t like to be told what to do.”  Margaret gave Jon a sideways glance before measuring cornstarch into a pan.  “Kind of like Jon and helmets.  Right, dear?”

Gladys said,  “That’s right.  Ask me about what it’s like to tell a man what to do.”  They all laughed.

 

Jon sat down next to Basil.  “Seriously, though, why do you think they’re such slow learners?  Isn’t it obvious to them what they need to do?  Wear a mask, already.  Save some lives, already.  How many times must they be told that Black Lives Matter?”

Basil smiled.  “Was it obvious to you what you needed to do when you were learning to skate?”

Jon grinned.  “Sure.  It’s obvious to anyone who wants to skate.”

Basil said, “So it was obvious what you needed to do.  Did you pick it up quick?”

Jon rubbed his elbow.  “Heck, no!  I fell a thousand times.  I scraped up every square inch of me.  There was nothing quick about it.  Even though I knew what to do, it still took a long time to get good.”

Basil laughed.  “Do you think it’s the same with being human?”

Gladys stood up, “Basil, you can’t equate learning to skate with learning to be an empathetic, evolved human.”

Basil grinned, “I knew you’d get riled, Gladys.  The point I’m making is that even though people know what needs doin’, they’re slow to get there.”

 

“Dear, stir this while I beat these egg whites,” Margaret handed Basil a whisk.  “Humans aren’t born wanting to share, or wanting to put others first.  Think of what it’s like to teach a child to share.  It’s an ongoing process.  A good parent works at it all through that child’s younger years.  Schools work at teaching children to take turns.  Church preaches sharing.  It takes time to learn these things.”

Jon laughed, “I knew kids who would only share when an adult was watching.”

Just then the timer beeped.  “Jon, dear, could you take that pie crust out, please?”

“How will I know it’s done?”

“It’s done, dear.”  Margaret stopped the mixer and looked at the three of them.  “We are wired to survive.  Sharing, putting others first – these things go against that instinct for survival.  Except for moms, of course.  Moms have to share.  We don’t have a choice!”  All four of them laughed.

Gladys asked, “Haven’t we evolved enough, by now, to override those instincts?  Can’t we see that we have enough, and that we’ll survive if we share?”

Basil said, “Our brain knows we need to share, but that conflicts with our base instinct to get what we think we need to survive.”

Margaret folded a bit of thickened cornstarch into beaten egg yolks.  “That’s exactly right, Basil.  All these things  – sharing, thinking of others, putting others first – need to be learned.  They don’t come naturally.  More importantly, they need to be learned repeatedly.  When we don’t have parents or church or peer groups or even the government reminding us to do those things, we forget the lesson.  We need constant reminders.  Community fills that role.  When community breaks down, we lose the examples of why those ideals are so important.”

“Beat the yolks, please, Gladys, while I add more of the cornstarch mixture.” Gladys shook her head, “It’s tiresome that humans need to be reminded to be human.”

Jon winced, “I wished I’d done a better job of picking peers.  Where would I be now if I’d picked a different group?”

 

Margaret said, “It’s a shame, isn’t it.  Think of it like Jon and skateboarding.  If he hasn’t done it for awhile, he gets rusty.  Everything takes practice.  Lessons need to be reinforced.  They need to practice sharing, practice putting others first.  They need to practice accepting others and including them, until they can do it without thinking about it.”

Basil put down his coffee cup, “Evolution is an ongoing process, especially for lazy humans!”

Jon laughed, “You sound like a crabby old sage.”  He grabbed his board,  “I, for one, am glad to be done learning those lessons.”

Margaret smiled, “Oh, dear!  You’ve only just begun!”  She put the pie in the oven, “I’ll let you know when the pie is ready.”

 

The Spirit Guides are between incarnations.  They hang out at a cemetery, watching our foibles, offering insights, all while enjoying Margaret’s amazing pies. 

 

 

 

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The Map

Margaret had spread a blanket in the grass.  Basil was unfolding the map and placing it on the blanket.  Gladys put boulders on each corner in an effort to keep the wind from stealing the map.  Margaret started cutting the pie. 

“None for me, Margaret.”

“Gladys!  Why must you insist on worrying about your waistline.  There’s really no point in that now, dear.”  Margaret handed a plate of pie to Basil.

“Old habits die hard, Margaret.””

“Thank you, Margaret,” Basil poured the coffee.   “This one’s map is a bit confusing with lots of detours and rarely a straight line from point A to point B.”

Gladys took a sip of coffee.  “She must have been an indecisive one, I figure.”

Margaret laughed.  “It certainly makes for an interesting journey that way.”

 

Just then Jon came up.  “What are you guys doing?”

“Oh we’re just enjoying another map, dear.  Pie?”

“Sure, Margaret.  I love your pie.”

Basil pointed at the left side of the map.  “Look here.  We see a relatively straight line that represents birth to about the college years.  Just that one detour when she quit college briefly, but I see she got back on course at this point.”  Basil traced his finger along a red line.  “But it’s here that we see the line veer way off course.  I wonder why she thought that was a good idea?”

Jon put down his fork and looked at the map more closely.  “Looks to me like that detour taught her how to appreciate art and creativity.  I don’t see how that was a bad choice.”

Gladys pointed at a fork in the road.  “What do you figure happened there?”

Jon looked at Gladys like she had a third eye.  “How else would she have gotten those awesome kids of hers?”

Margaret nodded.  “You are so right, Jon.  And look at that spot.”  The red line appeared to be broken and a new red line started an inch away.

Jon sat back and looked at the other three.  “That was a major detour.  The one that saved her kids.”

Jon moved the empty pie plates to the side and crouched over the map.  He pointed at a juncture and said, “This is where she learned some of what she didn’t want.”  He pointed to another spot and said, “This is where she learned what she would not accept.”  He put his finger on another bend and said, “This is where she reinvented herself.  Again.”  Moving his finger further, “Here she decided she didn’t need to like football.  Turns out she never did, she just thought she was supposed to.”  They all chuckled.  Margaret said, “I never did like football much, but I liked the sound of it playing on a Sunday afternoon when I was baking.”

Jon pointed again, “Here she started a new career right after rejoining a previous segment.  It’s almost like her route made a circle.”  Margaret said, “Oh!  Isn’t that when she and her kids moved back to their old house?  That was a fine course correction.”

Gladys looked up from the map.  “Wouldn’t she have gotten to where she was going quicker if she’d taken a more direct route?  What if she’d avoided all those detours?”

Jon smiled.  “Don’t you see, Gladys?  If it weren’t for the detours, she wouldn’t be who she is.”

 

“Not all those who wander are lost.”  —  J R R Tolkien