Forgotten Fickle Gods

To mix it up I am adding a little creative writing exercise for your enjoyment. It's just for fun and it's not perfect but I like it. Enjoy.

 

As a man without a religion to call his own I have sought out spiritual places, from Yankee stadium to Jerusalem, from Mecca to Machu Picchu, in search of a creed, dogma or doctrine I can really sink my teeth into. I've even taken a few for test drives. Astrology didn't much work, too vague. Catholicism made me feel too guilty. Wicca made me feel too trendy "green." But, in all my travels I never encountered a situation as unusual as my trip to Greece. There I was, hiking up Mount Olympus, when I heard a booming laugh accompanied by, "These Christians are so lazy!"

I looked all around, spinning in a circle to find no one in sight. What a loaded statement. He better be careful to keep his voice down if he repeats his sentiments in the future or he might offend the wrong person, I thought listening as the conversation continued.

            "Yes, I do agree with you my dear brother Hades. Their ancestors knew this world couldn't possibly be taken care of by one deity."

            Hades? As in the Hades? I thought to myself. It's been centuries since Constantine delivered that fatal blow to the Olympian gods. There is no way Hades would hold a grudge this long… is there?

            "Zeus, we are not forgotten, so I don't understand what you two are complaining about; the less appearances we have to make the better. Don't you remember back at the height of the Grecian Empire how taxing it was on everyone? Remember all the petty quarrels it caused among us. It really is best they leave us to our Olympus, and we leave them to their pain and suffering," a new voice of reason boomed.

Surely I was not getting a glimpse of these ancient deities right there on Mount Olympus. It seemed like the whole mountain was rigged to play some trick to increase tourism, but a glimmer in the sky caused me to look up. Immediately I spied the over-sized gold goblet filled to the brim with what I assumed was nectar resting in the hand of Zeus! Awed by how easily I identified him from the crumbling statues I'd seen during my tour of Athens, I gaped at the anything-but-decrepit figure towering above me, hoping not to be noticed. He sat with his two brothers, Poseidon and Hades lounging in fluffy chairs that grew from the cloud they were riding around a larger castle-shaped formation that covered the peak of mount Olympus.

             "True. Back when we mingled with those poor mortals, their treachery reached our paradise here. You remember, Poseidon. You spent more time here than your own kingdom," Zeus said as he waved his hands around spilling nectar from his glass. I was not so lucky as to avoid the sticky substance as it drenched me in an instance, the way a raindrop might feel to an ant. I looked down at my hands covered in the amber liquid and brought a finger to my lips to taste it.

            "I wouldn't know. The wars kept me quite occupied ruling over the dead, and of course Poseidon, your negligence left me with a healthy population of loyal subjects. But now I must admit, the doom and gloom and dark are a bit too," he paused searching for the right word, "morbid for my taste. I am ready to expand my horizons," Hades said as he lounged with an air of majestic superiority.

            The moment the liquid touched my lips everything I saw became clearer and sharper, colors were more brilliant, radiant almost. The sweet smell of the nectar assaulted my nose and lungs as I inhaled. I was engulfed in the aroma of peaches, strawberries, roses and honeysuckle all mixed together. Nothing was gloomy down here. It was like feeling each ray of sun against my skin warming it as the cool breeze kept it just the right temperature. Is this what it's like to be a God? I felt perfect in every way, no longer fatigued from my journey this far.

            "I can definitely relate, for my digits would resemble raisins if I spent too much time in my palace. Well, if I wasn't a god anyway. Ah, the infamous Atlantis, how fond it is to my heart. Poor souls that keep looking for it, they search in vain. Their theories on its disappearance are quite comical," Poseidon responded jovially, his voice such a pleasant sound as I ever heard.

            "I could use a change of scenery as well. Watching after all these mortals does bore me terribly. It can be quite bothersome. Maybe we should mix things up a bit," Zeus suggested. I could almost see the light bulb over his head as the scene took on the surreal quality of the realest cartoon I had ever seen.

            "What did you have in mind? How about a tsunami? Or an off-the-scale typhoon? Oooh, I could cause the Nile to run backwards – that would make for good fun," Poseidon exclaimed triggering me to refocus my attention to their conversation.

            "You've grown so destructive with age. You did get quite carried away with the last tsunami. Even with three heads, keeping confused souls from trying to wander exhausted my poor pup Cerberus! There was scarcely any room for new souls to enter and the Fates were busy for weeks! It took them a full year to recover.  Zeus, you really must help me persuade him to reconsider his choice of hobbies. Certainly you did not mean to torture the mortals with your fun."

            I couldn't believe my ears. Hades actually credited the 2004 Tsunami to Poseidon – the off-the-charts Tsunami that killed over 200,000 people, touched over 11 different countries, was 550 million times more powerful that the atomic bomb the US dropped on Hiroshima, and caused the entire planet to vibrate? WOW! Not a good sign for humanity!

            "I agree. Poseidon, you need a new hobby. Brothers, have you ever considered redrawing for our lots? I mean the first time we pulled straws, perhaps this time we can – "

            "Play that game the mortals are so fond of… you know… they use their hands and say something like, uh… boulder, paper, sheers or rock, paper, clippers," Hades interrupted enthusiastically.

            "It's rock-paper-scissors, you dunce. And I am not destructive! If anything I keep you two from ripping apart the planet with your stupid clashes, all I do is make a big splash and you want to call me destructive," Poseidon pouted.

Surely they realize how ludicrous they sound.

            "Rock-paper-scissors, of course! And thanks to our low profile, we won't have to worry about confusing any mortals. They won't even notice. You've grown wiser with old age Hades,"

Zeus observed leaning forward in his chair, fist in hand, ready for the game.

            No wonder everyone abandoned worshiping these gods. They're more ridiculous than mere mortals. At least they haven't noticed me. Christians might be lazy, but they're not this crazy, to each his own.

            "That's something I never thought I'd hear you say Zeus! And in fact he hasn't, it won't work. One game won't decide our new realms. I suggest, Hades, you take over for Zeus as you want something less 'morbid.' Zeus you should take the sea, it will require a less drastic adjustment, and I will bear the burden of the dead since my 'destructive nature' will best be tempered there. Let's agree the transfer should take place on the eve of the next full moon," Poseidon noted, once again their voice of reason.

            "How constructive of you! Your solution is acceptable to me. What do you think Zeus?'

            "Not much fun in deciding like that. But it makes sense. I can live with that for at least a few centuries."

            "The matter is settled then. I must bid you farewell then brothers. I have a few matters to tend to before I hand over my kingdom. Let me recommend you do the same," Poseidon bid farewell to his brothers. He leapt from the cloud and floated down landing next to me.

            "Oh lord, what will our wives think," We heard Hades and Zeus exclaim at the same time laughing nervously as they drifted away from us and toward what I imagined was Olympus.

            "My bothers are not so ridiculous as you might think, but lucky for you I am their voice of reason as you thought, and will keep them distracted until they forget you the same way you will have forgotten them," Poseidon said resting his hand on my shoulder.

            When I awoke I was back in my modest room where I had been living with Tibetan monks before my trip. I rushed to the mirror to examine my reflection. No nectar, no dirt, no sweat from the hike. I was still the same tall, gangly 24-year-old without a religion to call my own. Was it all a dream?

Dreams

Dreams:

When I was younger my mother gave me a dream journal. I remember it was every shade of blue with sliver stars surrounded by clouds and a quarter-moon smiling back at me from the top corner by the binding, inviting me to open it. On the first page, the journal explained things like I should keep it by my bed at night so I could write my dreams down before I forgot and to try remembering my dreams before I ever fell asleep. It was spilling all its little secrets to me, inviting me, enticing me to take it in as a confidant, tell it my dreams, wishes, fears, nightmares, hopes.

Interesting how this little journal spoke to me in so many ways when I wasn’t even listening.  It told me that the quickest way to learn someone else’s secret was to share one of your own. It told me to embrace my dreams, remember them, record them, and, if I wanted, live them.  It told me my mother loved me and wanted me to find my own way in the world, discover what I wanted. It told me never be afraid to dream because even my nightmares were a product of my own imagination.

I think back and wonder what I can do with all these hidden messages.

 Should I be more careful who I trust? Sharing secrets is a tricky business.

 Should I look back at all the dreams I had and try to make them come true?  Not necessarily. I have grown and experienced so much since then, I don’t share the same dreams as those belonging to the girl I was then.  I would rather make a difference than a splash. I would rather be a star shining among many than on top of the world alone. But I will remember them all because remembering my dreams is remembering who I have been and who I want to be. Remembering is key.

Should I be fearless? There are definitely situations where it is healthy to be scared. Still there are many fears our imaginations exaggerate into illogical, irrational handicaps. Like when spiders sneak up on me I scream loud enough New Yorkers can hear me, yet I get up close and personal with a rattle snake and the experience barely fazes me. Maybe, one day I will find more productive ways to put my imagination to use.

Definitely, I should say thank you to my mother.  She not only let me be my own person but encouraged it. She let me find my own way instead planning the future she wanted me to have. She taught me the world was full of opportunity and that, even though life was hard, there was nothing I couldn’t do.

As for where I am now, I haven’t found that one thing I am better than everyone else doing. I haven’t found that one place I absolutely love working. I haven’t dreamed that one dream I’d like to make true. Yet. But I’ll be ready when I do.  And maybe if you keep your mind, heart, and eyes open, you will be too.

Collective Indvidual

It’s funny. Growing up the world is an entirely different place, full of secret s and mysteries, how hunks of metal can fly, friends only you can see, stuffed animals as pets.  Ordinary places become treacherously full of adventure and intriguingly dangerous fun.  They teach us anything is possible. They teach us lies like Christopher Columbus discovered America and Pluto is a planet (complete with paper mache replicas of the solar system). 

Then, we grow up. The older we get, the less possible our dreams become. The less energy we have to be the person we saw ourselves growing up to be. Discouraged by the lies we were told, we’ve solved all those mysteries of airplanes, forget to have an imagination, and dream only when we sleep. We fall into step with the people around us, fitting molds that we collectively established to maintain order.

We search for someone to share our life with, in hopes that person can tell us who we are, but then they only tell us who they think we should be or might be and what we should want. While our friends only tell us who we were, everyone is forgetting each experience shapes and molds us into someone different. Ever changing we think “Who am I?” should always have the same answer, but no one answers the same.

We play so many roles in life from brother, daughter, mother, uncle, convict, provider, protector, predator. We are someone different to everyone in our life. We are dynamic and full of life. We can fit into many molds. We can write and sing, dance or crawl, shout or whisper, hide or seek. Despite what we do, we leave an impression in this world with everyone we meet, every life with encounter. Sometimes we crash into each other and sometimes just brush past like two people headed in opposite directions on a crowded sidewalk. 

As such collective individuals, perhaps Instead of using our friends, family, and strangers as a reflection in the mirror, we should use them more like clues to our quest of life and self-discovery.  Break all the molds and embrace life as the journey it is and make it everything we ever wanted it to be.