It’s happened again. My Characters are fully taking over my reality. Good. Let them have at it. I’m having a little trouble with it anyway.
I figured it was time for Sarah Striker to take over the #sundaymorningstory
It’s happened again. My Characters are fully taking over my reality. Good. Let them have at it. I’m having a little trouble with it anyway.
I figured it was time for Sarah Striker to take over the #sundaymorningstory
On our last trip for awhile, we asked each other to understand not from the movies that can be paused and replayed, but from life that cannot. We don’t exist inside of these plastic cases. We are all movies being played over continuous loops – exchanging energy through out touch. It is, after all, only one touch.
Ah, Australia. What we, those who have built and feasted on the Sundaymorningstory do with out you? Perhaps there is something in the soil over there that has humans wanting to seek out and and find their connection. Here, we see the ability – the need to find comfort in a number other than 1. We are meant to take form and evolve. Through this story, I have understood so much about the world inside of me. We all have. It is not around us – it exists within. These doors that have opened expand vision.
This has been the lesson we’ve learned. The connections we’ve shared all come down to the need for these 4 letters. The rest – well, it’s all supportive but not sustaining. We cannot exists on what comes off the shelves at the department stores. It’s the minerals inside of the earth that nourishes. We turn and look and pray for this feeling. For this realization that we are all here because of this. Search. Returning. Exchanging.
Fitting to close with the Dali Lama – one of the few that exists in reality with such grace that there is no need to cloak in fiction. Our goal was to remove, even so slightly, the inhibitions we have to walking up to the doorstops and ringing the bell. The sounds were mean to send vibrations through what some call “The Soul of the World.” I believe, we, the contributors to the Sundaymorningstory, have in some small way, made that happen. We have eaten, cried, laughed, lost, loved and shared for the better part of year. It was, personally, one of the most magnificent ventures I have even been a part of. Notice the “been a part of” – We are all part of each other now. The weight has actually caused lightness.
Amazing how that can happen.
We’re hanging just off the skin so we can show you the space that exists between the touch and distance. Everyone these days shakes at closing this gap. What does it mean? What will others think of my actions? What are the consequences? We have forgotten how to just move.
We all – and I mean all of us, have those paths to walk down that are opened up by the universe. It is so clear as to what we must do, yet we look for reasons why we shouldn’t. “I don’t walk to move past the bathrooms.” Who knows what would have happened has to taken the road that others are too afraid to walk down. It is obviously there for you.
You may need to expand your vision of what a road or path is. Not all of use are meant to exist above the surface. There are, of course, multiple realities happening at all times. Even now, wherever you are reading this – you are inside of a screen. Look up and see what’s happening beyond you. Now move through the walls. Under the soil. Learn how to inhale salt water without passing out. That’s there for you as well – but your commitment to achievement must match the task.
Let’s stay on those multiple realities for just a moment – it might help you not feel so alone. You can turn any direction right now and a different story exists for you. You. That’s what you should be concentration on first if you are going to help out the rest of the world. How are you going to lead others if you aren’t confident in the steps you’re taking? Now, don’t be discouraged. You gain that confidence only by taking the wrong steps first. Step.
The drum majors are ready for you. Make sure you follow those ones who aren’t thinking about their steps. It’s a recurring theme we realize, but one that has to be driven in our heads to erase the damage done by what we think we know. It’s okay. They have the keys to your path. Move with them.
The crime exists when we don’t give children the ability to lead. We exist only because of them. Somewhere between the sit-coms and the reality TV we absorb ourselves in, the news exists. Only, now, it exists in the nothing. Remember the space between the bracelets and the wrist in our first picture – the nothing – there is where your information is.
People are putting away their fantasy so that they can start down their paths of reality.
How are you looking at the steps? Do they lead into the pool or provide a way out? That’s the two parallel universes exists next to each other. These are in front of us each day, yet we don’t explore the possibilities. In the pool, cooling from the heat, we wonder if they might decide on the journey of the lake.
Jumping off the statues, there is a call to move away from the computer. To stop burying your head into you cell phones. Don’t you realize they were put in your hands to distract you from your multiple realities? You are not communicating – you’re being shut off.
Here, it’s a tough lesson this week. Not many carnivals and clowns. Life exists like that on some of the paths. In Australia, someone has created some meal for all of us to enjoy. Remember the taste – it’s a sense that is thought to be luxury bust is essential to memory.
At the bottom of each cup, the next steps in your future do not exists. Please walk away from those who want to tell you your future. The person who tells you is inside your belly.
In Wisconsin, all of this expanding of roads is allowing for growth. Possibilities. Choices. Decisions. Alway thought to be the most painful, are actually the most luxurious items in your life. The freedom to make these choices is never realized until it doesn’t exist.
It can all take place inside a flower pot. Life is not just happening with the plant you see. The soil. Worms. The ecosystem beneath the surface is allowing you to view the final result. Life is in the process.
Two eyes that watch over your every move can be found at each turn. Mirrors don’t only exist as glass.
Now then – in South Africa, a Paulo Coelho book is being devoured. Have you not experienced his words? The magic that jumps from his pages? The omens he talks about that exist all around you? He is, simply, one of the paths that must be walked down to experience your own.
Now, of course, there are paths that must be walked down. Long corridors that echo the footsteps you pray you didn’t have to take. We understand. We feel your vibrations on the floor. Our kitchen tables are there for you to sit down at when you’re done. We have a fresh pot of coffee and a hand that will rest on your shoulder.
And we, the humans, will do what we can to build those bridges, like this one in Melbourne. The construction workers and architects can only do so much. It’s built for you – now take those steps. It’s possible. Everything.
Birth. The sounds these days are ringing from about. Walk you steps softer and try tilting your neck towards the sky. Get closer to the paths that don’t exist beneath your feet. They are more difficult to get at, but more rewarding to travel on. Believe.
We all need protection from the unexpected rains that come into our lives. There are those moments when we are drenched and walk into offices, hoping someone offers up a towel or attempts to dry us off, but it’s not there. That moment of compassion is held in reserve. So then – we, those followers and creators of this sunday story, must stand on street corners and offer up momentary shelter to those who are being rained on. What is not thought about are the hours of construction it takes to create such a mechanism that can alter what nature is deciding for us. It might be, just perhaps, that we’re meant to have our physical state altered, and that being wet could just be the possibility of reshaping.
Over in Alabama, a call for love replaces the church bells for a day. They are not speaking about god or saviors coming through your door when you drop to your knees. They are speaking about that emotion you keep buried beneath you skin. From the rain that hits the mud, a shop teacher at a local high school starts to create the letters that can serve a message and demarkation point for the rest of us. The reflection from the lettering provides guidance when the lighthouses are no longer functioning, but travelers from around the world – those who are still left in our story and have no shied away from their work, need to reach shore. We are coming.
We don’t even call it magic any more. There is no room for that. It is faith that the energy we create can cause illumination. Over in the UK, there are folks creating flying kitchen-ware for parties that are about to be had. What are we celebrating (and all of us should be celebrating) for so early in our journey? It’s the very fact that we’ve decided to take a journey in the first place – to move ourselves from the corners of the world where we knew the steps. Forward.
The magic tea pots crack open the skies in Portugal, where the once thought to be unscalable walls are diminished by our new perspective on just how big this world is. The more light we create, the more space and possibility exists for us to move within. It may be the fate we all walk away from when we turn away from those who have just been soaked in the rain. Remember, the growth you see around you in this picture is because of days when it would seem impossible to stand outside.
In Madison, the berries that have been gathered in the fields of portugal are being served to hydrate us on our journey. After all, we need to match the water that exists inside us. We are only made of the same elements of this planet. We can reflect the world if we don’t think too much about it. Instinct.
There are those who don’t hold illusions about being kissed by a princess and having to go live behind the gates of the castle.
“We’d rather exist in our strange colors,” says the frog in Bremen. “After all, how else are the humans going to see that what they believe to be ‘odd’ is truly the most natural occurrence in the world? You are all just schools of fish moving through coral. Perhaps someone will make a documentary about you and explain it in a language you understand. You like things being explained to you. No worries, one day, after you de-evolve, you will understand. We can wait. We’ll be here.”
Here, on this porch, the great writers are documenting it all. They understand that most adults don’t have the patience to keep up with the Sundaymorningstory. They are falling away – they have important things to take care of. No matter. Each step of those left are being constructed into this tale that, when fully constructed, might be just enough pieces to create a mirror that reflects all of our stories and increases the very sense of possibility that is lacking in life right now. Please, sit down on the porch and let her sketch you. You need to see how you’re reflecting.
In edmonton, one of the thousands of mirrors the earth has already constructed sits gently on this afternoon. You’re looking into that small rectangle in your bathrooms or that hang on your closet door, but the math isn’t right. You don’t look like that. Come to the shores of this lake and understand that your skin has currents and movements within. You do not exists only on the surface. Everything is taking place beneath.
Down south, we can see signs that humans are looking to reach out and connect. We don’t want this isolation that has been created for us. Through currents and electricity, we’ve made boxes to talk to other boxes – it’s the same urge that had us connect two paper cups to a piece of string and see if we could talk to those we couldn’t see. It’s a reaching out. A call. We are constantly calling. Constantly looking for those who know we’ve been standing in the rain for so long.
And sometimes, it’s just as simple as wanting to have you belly scratched. Don’t be afraid to ask for it. There are plenty of those both willing to be scratched and do the scratching out there.
See now, they are showing mirrors from everywhere now. A lake in Melbourne at night is reflecting two lovers who snuck off from the carnival to have their first kiss. The photograph is documented in the tides. It’s a shared moment. Years from now, each will come back to the place from their different paths in life and reflect back on this moment that can only happen once. Go on, try it. Reflect now on your first kiss.
Now these two, well, they are looking only at the present. They’ve been having adventures long before this story began. They have no need to be told the secrets – we watch them FOR the secrets. Most animals are like that – they relieve truth by their motion and actions. It’s why we can’t help but watch. Make sure you do not make the mistake of creating Zoos. It’s in the open that you can understand. Take a look at a tree branch today and the birds will explain.
Fantastic. We’ve created something here on the Gold Coast that zooms you through time and allows you to feel pure emotion without comprehending your thoughts. You just know. There is nothing to learn or think. It’s all just inside your heart. Those letters from Alabama L – O – V – E – it is your base and place of worship, if you still require such things. However, you may find, that if you just throw your hands up and scream, you’ll be closer to whatever it is you may be praying for.
After all, we’re just trying to feel like this again. The magic of being held and understood, and the magic of holding and understanding.
Somewhere in the midwest, a giant is without their shoe. Limping around the country, the souls of their feet are developing calluses that make each step of his uneven journey easier to take because he is getting used to the pain. How interesting how that subsides if you continue on your journey. Perhaps we’ll take a step into fables this time around in our story, though I doubt if the humans will leave us along long enough for the tale. Perhaps, if we ask nice enough, they’ll join in.
Now then, there hidden right in front of you. The seeds on the strawberries are existing off the juice from the inside while the humans stands and wonder how nature can produce such colors on the outside. What would happen if everyone would just taste instead of think? The green stems hang amused at the whole scene. So nice here in Berkshire.
Now then – here, inside of the bottle, there is a promise that those strawberries from the UK are going to have to jump into a blender and make a little afternoon refreshment. So much reality is difficult to consume. Don’t worry about the intoxication – it happens each time you turn on your televisions. This time, we’re going to journey together – using the seeds of berries as stepping stones. Try on the shoe if you so desire.
Here, finally say the humans. Only our hands are meant to play. The strings however, laugh, because they are good friends with the future vibrations that will become sounds and lead those who want to listen into dance. Nobody can comprehend it all if the think all at the same time.
Over in Portugal, a finger points to some semblance of explanations. “It’s math,” he says. “Human magic that cannot be questioned.”
Humans? They are no longer in control of this planet. Funny how they walk around – thinking of themselves and they build. Creating newspapers and communications systems to talk about themselves. Me? I spend my days with the plants listening to the sound of the smallest leaf growing against the breeze. With so much happening around me, why would I want to understand myself?
Over in Chicago, they are starting to build idols in hopes of summoning the spirit of Charles Darwin. They think there might have been some gaps in his books, and, just in case, they thought they pour a few pitchers and see if they could get the old man out one more time.
Over in South Africa, a woman is attempting to put together fragments to create an image in hopes of understanding. Again, what is it about humans that we need to understand ourselves so much. That we need to reach so far within instead of extending outward to the world desperate for us to join.
Over in Lisbon, there are reminders of our need to unify under common understanding. There are dangers in that, of course, if we fail to recognize each others right to choose a monkey in a bar over a statue in a field.
The humans of Perth seem to agree.
Inside the bottle are thousands of chemical acting exactly as they were composed to do. The boy in Portugal has done his job outline performance. Perhaps the chemicals inside of us, humans – and strawberry seeds, are making us do exactly what we’re supposed to do.
Reproductions of reality are not bringing us closer to nature.
A pause for a moment. Another kitchen opened up for us – this time in Dallas. There’s enough for everyone, but please, make sure you ask the chef for the recipe. You’re going to want to duplicate the conversations that are being had around the table. We are understanding our area. Finally. Glad the do it big in Texas.
Seeing what the cat in Australia was able to climb thought – a garden in Edmonton has given new worlds for us to crawl around in if, perhaps, we revert to that age where we didn’t know what it mean to walk away. When the coolness of the ground was enough to lay on. If you look closely here, we can see the humans are doing their best to understand their surroundings – again by replication. Perhaps this is what we do.
We’ve shrunken down – if only for a bit, and now must crawl up the creations we have put out there. The decision must be made on what we worship.
Underneath the riders, the horses are amused how how the humans still struggle to maintain uniformity.
We have constructed barriers to prevent truth. It’s okay – those weren’t what we were seeking anyhow. Keep away from the machines and you’ll start to understand it all. We’re not ready to understand. That’s what these stories are for. Perhaps, if the machines pay head to these signs, we’ll be able to jump into an empty boxcar and travel to an open space.
Finally. Randomness. Created by wind. No order. Only perfect sense directed under uncontrolled movements. We cannot enter and breath. However, we can sit. Or jump in. Or build to move across. Or take from within. The choices are there. Now, let’s all just dip those ankles in and let them be cooled by the magic of what is actually there.
There are, of course, memories of those who have given themselves so that we may discover this earth. These flags, produced in the same factory, are died with various colors. Let us not kill over them anymore. It does not fit into our story. Into our understanding.
Now, it seems, through these travels, our old forms of expression are not making sense as they once did. Are we existing off of regurgitated traditions?
There you are. The moment before the kiss. Our secrets exist here. Our humanity exists in love. Once we give in to that fact, and it is fact, the rest – the surrounding planet, allows us into its cycle because we have found our purpose.
We give you all time machines for this story – so that now you are the age you were when you were allowed to dream – before the world told you that dreams were not supposed to be all you looked forward to. We are unlocking this now. Here, with this pink guitar the soundtrack starts to a new reality. A concert given to those who know which part of their ears can pick up the music. There is room, don’t be afraid just because you are touching someone’s elbows.
There now – over the Atlantic, we are already reverting to that age. We’ve shrunken in size and our clothes no longer fit, but that means little, because nobody can judge you inside of a dream.
Now that we understand that the world spins without us falling off, we see see through the eyes of those we borrowed from our past, that the leaves are ripe to jump around in. The crunching lets us know that this dream is real. Please, don’t send anyone out to rake these up. We need the randomness of how they fall. Wherever you are in the world, it’s different somewhere else.
Trees over on the other side of the world don’t need to understand the concept of seasons. That’s taught science. Here, they are living nature without the guidance of a textbook. What a magnificent feeling not to have you work checked. The small people in the distance – more adults shrunken back to childhood in this reality based dream, are searching for shade.
Over in Chicago, little girls are all looking in magazines to see what kind of woman they want to be when they come of age. All trying on mother’s pearls and sunday best suits to project their future image. Appearing in front of them, the future opens. Strong. Confident. Embracing. How you visualize is how you’ll become. Imagine that. You must do so – think. Make your mind unlearned.
There now – Here’s you inside. Even now, sitting where you have to sit and listening to what you’ve been told you have to listen to, this is your heart. You might have even walked by a sprinkler or open fire hydrant and wondered if it would be too silly to jump in. Perhaps you need to go to the 99 cent store and buy a piece of chalk so you can draw hopscotch games on the sidewalk to show you what a real map looks like.
Now, over in North Bay, they’re starting to understand the power of bubbles. How life can be filled inside matter that is fragile and can pop, but for a brief moment, holds the promise of eternity. We all exist in this way.
The edges of the bubbles open and filer down to a miracle flower growing out of stone and wood. Don’t believe, again, what you’ve been told the elements of this planet are capable of. More important, remember that we, humans, are elements of this planet, and are capable of so much more than we’ve been told. We are telling each other here. Echoes of bubbles make for growth of dreams.
Something we all do, but do different, but all do. Can you see the key?
Can you remember that last steps you took? What the earth felt like below your feet? How lucky you were to walk in the door after work and toss your keys down. Did you kiss your loved ones or grab your pet? How much time did you spend thankful for the breath that you can inhale? It’s not too late to being in the present. Fantasy exists there.
Here, please, sit. Lay down. There are places in the world open for you if you’ve been destroyed. All of us, our doors are opening and hoping that the energy created by even the slightest of our movements can change what’s in front of you. It seems so impossible for fiction to be real. We struggle with the belief. We believe on in our struggles. Perhaps, it might be true, that if we grab a crayon and start to draw what’s inside, we might be able to feel these patches of light rather than feel cold in the shadows.
Jump with us, high, into the skies of Portugal, where the universe has given us couches of clouds to sit back and and watch the world through a lens other than our televisions. That is not the fantasy we need to escape into. It pushes as further away from nature. Our nature. This show, in front of you everyday.
Train. No. You must look at the tracks and imagine in. Believe it to be coming. Compartments that are filled with those who have traveled around the world on this magnificent Sunday Morning Story. Look at all we have picked up to join us. We are barreling through continents with ease. Traveling through time. Living countless lives. How is it all possible? Well, because of you. Because of the fact that you’re reading this. Right now.
Now remember, just because we are encouraging imagination, we are not moving away from reality. We are thrusting towards it, with empty bellies willing to ache so that what was done wrong by those who sought to sell you Pepsi Cola and call it religion can be called out. Just because it has vanished from headlines, doesn’t mean it has vanished. Headlines were created.
Now. There. Reality. Confident. Poised. Ready. World. Focus. Don’t blink or you’ll miss those who might be wondering how you’re going to help them change the definitions inside of dictionaries that have been stale for so long. The sun in California is giving the grass on the edge of the concrete a front row seat for the fashion show. Are you still on your cloud?
We just never have enough time with those we are closest to. So then, right now, call someone you need to tell you love them. Reach out through the lines of communication we are creating here. Take that train. Run through the rose. Climb any of the trees. Ride in the front seat of the shopping cart like you did when you were young. You are still young – it’s the world that’s old.
Another rooftop. They are close enough to each other so that we can jump from one to the next. Country to country. Don’t worry about the leap. It’s not the distance between your milestones, but the fact that you decided to jump at all. In the room on the far left, where the drapes are closed, two neighborhood kids are testing the limited of the box springs – seeing if their jumps can elicit attempts from others. You.
See there, these creatures are reading the history that exists inside the creases of fingertips who know how to observe without crushing. It’s a gift we have as humans but don’t always use. You did once. Remember.
Incredible. What was once a castle has been reconfigured so that we can all pause in this moment and get our feet stable. See, there are only so many directions you can go. We all, ALL, walk them each day. How amazing that it has been laid out and constructed for us in this reminder. It’s very real, created by imagination and blended with science. Us.
Small bushes sit in front of the great bull, thinking about the day that they will be tall and able to give shade. The bull, exhausted from being in the same position for so many years, knows that the growth of those around him will one day provide the relief of shade.
“Look at the bull,” chant the children. “He’s giving you the secret.”
Let’s hope you were not looking at your cell phone when it was given.
Now then, if you move enough and wander away from the compass, visions you creates inside of your imagination have a way of appearing in front of you. Thing is, whatever you can believe is possible, but the shape it takes may not be what you’re expecting. Humans have a strange was of misinterpreting what the universe lays in front of you. That’s what life is for. Listen to those who are telling you. The whispers exist.
When we first gather in groups and sit in front of teachers, we are told how the world is. How it functions. Should diagrams that explain inner-workings. It is not until we reach a certain age – a time when we can choose who we sit in front of, that we think about questioning the mechanics of reality. How these subways and roads that take us each day to work might be veins that feed a monster set to devour our true selves. There is a reason selves is plural. We can connect and form understanding – our eyes just need to focus on each other. Lock in. See beyond what your neighbor is saying. They might just be speaking propaganda.
Everyone, come – strip down to what you’re comfortable in. We’re not going to work today. We’ll swim and look up into the sky – take time to think about what world we’d like to exist in. Take time to see that this world offers everything you need to be happy – but we often look at the television or inside of magazines for that fulfillment. It exists right here, on these banks. We’re all sunning ourselves and feeling beneath our surface. The skin of trees and lakes is our lotion to ease the tightness created by offices and paychecks. We not clocking in today. No.
Now, see, if you explore just up the riverbank, you’ll find the stair to the secret pathways you’ve been looking for in all the wrong places. Our guide now is a beach ball – wanting to teach you or lecture you about how to act and what your final productivity should reflect. No. It’s obvious what you should do.
“Pick me up and play with each other,” it says. “Pass me back and forth. I too, am a world to exist in. I mimic your earth. Find my orbit by tossing me to those who are traveling with you. Don’t worry about the order – It’s all in the action. Movement. Understanding.”
While you were playing in South Africa, some have walked further down the river and ended up in North Carolina, where they stopped and focussed in on this piece of wood. If you just glance, you may have missed it. We understand though – it’s hard to look deep. We’re trained not to. However, if you did, you would see, just above the first large indentation, a praying mantis making it’s way across it’s universe – on the hunt for what it needs. Nobody told it what it needed. It just knew. Felt it. Reacted. Lived. We are learning. What a magnificent river this is turning out to be.
Now, see – some cement has popped in towards the river, but now that we’re walking slow, we notice the trees instead of the traffic lights telling us when to move and when to pause. We’re climbing branches now and laughing so that our echoes can ring like church bells announcing a service for the day. We are not, however, religion. We are humans – setting down paths with emotions rather than reason. It’s a shift in character, but one we’re enjoying. Aren’t you?
Well now, see what happens when you relax enough to ease the eyes of others? A door in a San Diego living room has been left open for us – their are chairs and Bloody Mary’s enough for all. Please, sit. Enjoy. Drink. Talk. Let the tightness in your neck ease away and talk about your lives and your history. We are all gaining understanding of each other so that we can pass down our exchanges to our children. We want them to walk these paths, though, of course, for now at least, we’ll keep the drinks for ourselves.
See now, after a nice drink, the jump over to the UK is much easier to manage. We’re enjoying the paths now that Emerson lined up for us. The breathing is much slower. Reality and fantasy are blending with looks into windows at cats who don’t mind what is considered real. There is a day taking place in front of both of them – there is life existing that they watch. Growth. Falls. Changes. Make sure you take lessons from their actions – it’s more than you’re learn from any lecture.
Now, of course, you’re going to need proper footwear when traveling through this world. While some are still disrobed down by the river banks, others are walking into each other’s closets and trying on shoes and boots to see if they can match up. We all match up if you turn around the color palette. Thing is, each piece of material was, at one point, the newest thing ever to exist on earth. Those stitches on the tip, when they met the material, we the only ones being born into the world at that very moment. Are you looking at objects in this way?
Now then, it appears some of our travelers have found a common interest, and they’ve walked from the forrest and riverbanks to the department stores to discover the wonders that can exist inside a shoe box. Such is life -we all have different drives and triggers inside of us – that’s the joy of why we’re human. That shoe box in the back though, imagine if it was given to a child, if it was given to you as a child. No doubt it would turn into a treasure chest of secrets. Can you scan your mind and think about what you would put inside from your childhood that you’d like to go through now?
Back outside, we come to realize that the sky has been painted by the artists of history. Thing is, it’s not by those hanging inside of museums. No. The brushes exist in our eyes and paint pumps from our organs that have been loosened by sunning on the river banks. Our perception can change if we just choose to look up for a few moments and realize our place on this giant beach ball. Walk closer. One leaf will keep you captured for a year.
Now, here, those of us who took time to loose our minds in the forest are walking onto decks in New Mexico and planting reflections of what we believe to exist inside of our fingertips. We touch and create. Pollenate. Add color to a world that, increasingly is finding itself being shadowed by a giant eraser of single thought. We’re not going to accept that. Our fight exists in knowing each other. Our fists are understanding.
Ah! A guide through the streets of Germany. Fantastic. Sir, please, can you translate what the graffiti says? We’ve heard that the writing on the walls we all pass each day are actually secret messages written by those on the underground who wish for us to not pay so much attention to the information on our Drivers Licensee. It does not define us. You seem to be doing just fine with what you came into the world with. Mind if we follow you for a bit?
Well hello to you there! Glad you made time for us on this day. We’re looking to understand ourselves by not looking inside all time time. We see how you’ve turned things around. It’s a nice trick, making the humans think they’re coming to see you, but really, you and your pals are just observing them. Humans like to pay to be observed. Would you mind dropping us a note about your findings? We’ll be reading it in our book clubs soon. Much thanks. Glad we followed the car in Germany or we’d never end up here.
Good. We’ve wrinkled our perception and it would be nice if we used the tools we created to straighten out our world for a minute. Our stories are so tangled up inside of each other – it’s fantastic, yes, but difficult to see. This iron moves slowly over the beach ball we exist on, careful not to let the heat it needs to do it’s job destroy the system we are all existing inside of. Such a delicate balance. Our eyelashes are blinking to provide the cooling wind.
There, see what you’re blinking has done? Waterfalls are let go and we’re cooled, but still have enough room to sun ourselves on the rocks. Can you see, just on the bottom, inches away from the left hand corner – the hint of a rainbow? That is us, coming together. It’s the story of our journey together. The earth is documenting us at each moment – please don’t think that you actions are taking place in isolation.
A combination of all who have walked this sunday – all who have followed cats through streets, onto windows, laid on riverbanks and looked at the sky – our skin has taken on the colors natural to us. The time clocks lay broken at the bottom of a recycling plant – about to be made into objects we can use to construct wisely, instead of follow without though. This is real. Right now. In your day, reflect what you have created. Make no mistake, this, all of it, is your creation.
Amazing that each one of us walking around – from those you wish you could crawl away with to those who offend you to those who you pass by without even a though, all came from the womb of a woman who walked this earth for 9 months inside of her. Regardless of what success occurs outside of those moments, there is nothing that will fill. Recognize.
These moments are learned and passed on. We all watch here. Cradled. Understood. Felt deep beyond what text books lay out as law. This is our time – unfolding. Understood.
Pollen imitates what we have accomplished, though perhaps it is the other way around. We are all watching and learning from imitations. The mimicking of movement. The trees here – we’ve yet to take this road in our journey, is offering shade to the mothers around the world. We offer up, as well, a spot to sit an reflect on the mothers who have left. We are still with you. Here.
Over in Wisconsin, word has gotten out of what the palm trees are doing thousands of miles away. The pollen must have told them. Amazing how strong the wind can be when it’s the season to create life. We won’t be shy over here about the ability of a seed. Are you thinking about such things in the office today? Talk to you co-workers about the wind and see if they are willing to travel.
In Brisbane, the humans have decided to aid the wind and save their breath in balloons for a time when those in baby strollers are going to need something clean to inhale.
You might think about such things as saving you air in a balloon for the future the next time you reach for the hose. Don’t feel as if you’re being silly. You’re meant to feel like that. Here, inside this story, is how we truly exist. Much of the roads we’re on away from here are the fiction. Bring that up as well when you speak today. Notice the amount of agreement in the eyes of those you’re speaking with.
There are, of course, alternatives. Time spent waiting for these to dry might help you understand how long the bush below took to grow. How many times the sun has come down on this very spot. How, 156 years ago, a man made love to a woman about to become his wife. They too added pollen. She was not made any breakfast in bed.
Time is not realized here – so the toast is left not far away, and, on the wind, the woman from Leicester travels and picks up the most perfectly buttered piece of toast in the entire world. Looking over it, of course, are the followers, which have been there throughout our definitions of matter.
Over in New Jersey, two lazy day sandals watch as the evening plans are laid out for the night.
“We wish we could go out like you. The thing you must see. Look how well taken care of the bottom of you is!”
“I wish I could stay around with you and exist in the sunlight. There’s too much pressure on me.”
Ready to come off the paper and follow the heels out for the evening, there is something stopping her. Creations through drawings have a different impact than in photography. How can this reflect against the whiteness of the pages?
Now, see there, there are wishing for you little panther. Notice the progression from the pages – cards from those who lived those 9 months and believe that this day is the one to pause and thank her for walking those first steps. Thing is, mothers are being honored each day. Again, flowers are everywhere. For those who have been part of our Sundaymoringstory from the start, we are finally breaking through the ice. Our eyes notice the birth. Notice.
Long days of work require love to be sprinkled everywhere it’s possible. Despite being covered up, those who need the coverage rely on the warmth being there.
Here, though we’ve seen them in vases throughout the story, they exist, natural. Unaware of the fence around them. Unaware of even themselves. They just are. Each time. As they should be. That’s all. Fantastic.
We are. Intertwined. In our. Fascination. With each other. Closeness. Without the need for entertainment. Our existence is not. Self. Contained.
Santa Clause might start starting to reconsider moving his holiday to a warmer time of year.
“Amazing,” says the wind. “That some plates are so much fuller than others.”
Might want to speak to your co-workers about that as well.
A human came to this spot at one point with their brush and a canvass. The trees reached down and took them away.
“No, just watch. No need to record.”
Amazing here – you are looking, no doubt at the sun. Perhaps even the clouds. What about the street light, who is being shown it’s utter insignificance in the universe.
“Ah, you’re only seeing me now,” says the street light. “Wait until it’s night. I’ll be more relevant than anything on this block.”
Vintage. There was a time when creating items for the sheer utility of their purpose was what we did. How incredible that form is as well. I bow to the street light in South Africa and will forever thank it, and remember it, as the one who taught me how to appreciate a fan.
Don’t think that because you build walls that they are going to do anything to separate species.
Deep inside. We exist. It is known. All shapes revert to the same. We repeat patterns. Fractals. Imitating what we refuse to see but know is there. The world living inside here. The texture on the tip of one of the edges of the petals. Remarkable.
Now the branches that took our brushes from before, realizing that we had given up on trying to capture, allows us to recreate what we’ve seen. There are plenty living in bricks and stone that have never seen what can exist outside of the concrete. We are the messengers. The pollen. Life is the wind.
From beyond the horizon, we sit on shores and think of travel, instead of the grains of sands falling between our toes. So much taking place beyond our sight – so much happening far away. We must look at the matter before we construct. The salt can help tighten our scope.
And now, here, the mother is going to show you. You can build what is beautiful and what attracts spectators to gather and photograph. We are all here. Come. Gather. It’s for you. You’ve build it with your combination of brushes, and wind, and pollen an shoes. It’s okay to arrive. The structures are amazing. We know. They are your reflection. What we want you to understand is how fragile it is.
Regardless of what you do to the materials that the earth gives you to live on throughout our time here – and we think we know now that it is a shared time…
While it exists on the news for you, it stays in reality for those affected. Is Alabama in your hearts as you bite into that buttered toast? There was once a hand inside this glove reaching for fly balls – perhaps playing catch with his mother who was stepping in for his father, who had to take an extra shift, to pay for the house, that is not longer there.
Be sure it is rebuilt.
Come – let us move from the city, if only for bit. Let the buildings melt away and return to their natural state of sand. We’ll carry it out and create more beaches so that the world can sit on a shore and listen to the ocean. It’s important to hear those sounds – between the crashes are the reasons we’re alive. The salt can jump into the openings in our skin and create texture.
Now that we’re all watching, the water knows it must perform. The show begins, though, in fact, it’s been happening long before we (and I mean humans) learned they didn’t need to be crawling around. Over the rocks, which have been smoothed by years of persistence, there is no need to question how the ocean traveled through this forest to become a waterfall.
Words is starting to spread about the water show. We’ll need shelter for the journey before we reach the stage. Well, its not us who’ll be performing this time. After all, that’s why we’ve melted all of the buildings down, so that shelter had to be created out of necessity rather than luxury. It’s a need we must put on ourselves – to rediscover where we live. Simple construction.
Once the tent is constructed, it’s amazing what can take place inside. We’re all gather now at tables with folks who were, at one time, strangers, but are now bonded by their conversations and reviews of the amazing water shows taking place all around them. You too can come and sit inside this tent, in the middle of the woods, just beyond the waterfall. Your price of admission is to stand in front of whatever body of water is nearest to you and imagine a raft to start your journey.
Those who don’t have rafts – there is no worry. That road you’re driving on is just another river – you just have to realize the physics of the situation and break down the matter. Those line of paint could easily turn into drifting pieces of wood that others may be hanging on to so they may stay afloat. Drive slow and allow them in – they’ll help guide you.
Over in Exeter, word has gotten out about how to turn those divided roads into unifying rivers. Mathematicians are giving in and creating new text books. Children in the back of classrooms who have never listened to lessons before are all taking detailed notes – as they’ve heard about the ocean shows and want a ticket to see how it ends. Thing is, it never does. That’s the beauty. We exist inside the show through eternity.
Over in Brisbane, a seamstress is watching over all of our travels and proving thread to keep us all together. She must stay up all night, because there is, despite our attempts at unity, a movement out there designed to keep us watching the evening news. They are telling us we’re splitting at the seems – but we know, those of us who have been creating rivers, it’s just not true. Again, the show is at the shores made of sand from the melting buildings. That closeness you now feel is because of the seamstress – remember to thank her when you see her today. And you will see here today.
Here, in Chicago, you can see her work, extending from the ceiling and spilling out into the aisles, where those who are traveling can take a seat and watch some of the show for themselves. Whatever is on stage can exist inside your mind. Remember though, when you’re gathered to witness an event, it might be you who are being watched. Fabric. Above. Holds. Particles. Unseen. Felt. Known. Exist.
Over in South Africa, they are creating stand-ins that can fool your boss so that you may exit from work and go to watch the ocean show. Don’t worry about being found out – these Sunday Morning Story followers have been interacting with so many humans, it will be simple to construct distractions. Now, these body doubles can stay at your work station and allow you back into your lives.
Over in the UK, they’ve come up with a plan to take the world’s flags, remove them from the battlefield, and turn them into cakes. Now all of the warriors will grow fat and have no need to pull any triggers or set off bombs. Armies will be free to help those affected by famine and natural disasters, instead of creating new ones. When you see your flag today, make sure to turn it into something sweet.
If you don’t know how to reconstruct matter, follow the eyes of the children. They are always looking at the truth.
Now then, it’s not that fair of a fight – we are posing here to show you what happens in a mismatch. You think with your invasions that you’re conquering new lands, but in fact, you, against the ocean, don’t have a chance. Just because, at this moment, your grip is strong, doesn’t mean it can sustain. After all, you’re going to need to stretch. To move. When that happens…
..those who were once small and could fit into your hand will outgrow your grip, and stand along against the future. That ocean air will melt you away. At the foot of this guard dog of our Sunday Morning Story, a small sheep rests now that he is safe from the wolves who have nowhere to hide now that the buildings have been melted away. Only the hint of a knee suggests that humans are part of the picture – but that’s fine. We shouldn’t dominate.
The stars at the top of the blanket shine like night lights for the rest of us. Guiding us on this river. We paddle by countless windows that hold bedtime stories told over and over in different languages. Their theme the same: Sleep and escape the confines of your skin and the sandman will guide you. Again, we’ve prepared by taking away the buildings. We’re in castles created on the shorelines. Incredible.
Enter Birth Name.
Here, the roots from the trees have wrapped around what we believed to be structure and given it true life. Electricity is useless now – there is only what the forest provides. Rain exists because of what the ocean drops off for the rest of us. Come, the door, if there even is a door – is open for all of you. Take the time to allow the branches to wrap around you and show you how to breathe again. Once you’ve slowed down enough, the show will be revealed.
See now, at the table inside – you wouldn’t expect such a magnificent place setting. Usually, walking through the concrete, there is no time to stop, eat and digest. There is no digestion. Only fuel. We are addicted to it. Because you entered the house covered by trees, because you believed there was a place for you at the table, you can dine. Look to either side and allow those next to you to believe it all exists.
Now then, the meal is done. Your belly is full and you’re ready to continue the journey. Cell phones off, please. Do not look down to see who’s calling or to check who wrote or to see what your friend’s status may be. Exist. Here. Digest. If not, your body cannot take the journey. It’s okay to stay connected to what’s around you. This will spread like the roots in the trees that cover the house you’re now sitting in. If you sit long enough, you might discover the vacancy of the roof. When was the last time you looked up?
The construction workers have received noticed of what we’ve been doing. They still need work, so in order to keep them on their path, we’ve made a deal. They have agreed that every building they put into existence now must have giant windows for us to stand at and look out of. We must have enough of the world to drink in each day. No more florescent lights. The architects are rejoicing at this new deal, as they’ve been wanting to let the world in for year. See there, the destruction of what was has allowed for a new view. Come, take a look out the window, it’s amazing.
Now then, look at the river. All of the elements exist from the story we’ve created. It is possible to create reality as you wish it to be. The secret, though we hope it’s not a secret for too much longer, is to blend the ideas into one – which can redefine what that number even means. Now, go – row your car into a boat and sail down the river towards the ocean show existing right now. You’ve helped write the script.
We exist here – that school library. We’ve been here for some time – they pass through – pass by us. They pass love notes and hid them between our pages so that teachers cannot find them. If you bend our spine, you can see, existing deep with our binding hold us together, the relics of age. It’s happening inside the jacket covers.
My cousins are inside of those pages. In many cases, they are the pages. Some trees cut down so you all, and I’m talking to you humans, can understand the world you exist in. It’s funny because you think that by cutting us down, you are destroying us. No – we know our purpose. We sacrifice so that you may understand your ecosystem. Eventually, you’ll discard us, and we’ll seep into the soil – beyond your maps, but not beyond your understanding. It is our hope.
Process. We’re starting to understand. This could be what exist beyond the shopping centers. “We both worked our entire lives making the dream of someone else come true. Now, here, finally, towards the end, we realize that we just wanted to be standing next to each other. What we were doing didn’t really matter. People from all over are starting to smell our creations.”
I keep wishing that they’d used this cup holder for some food for me. Perhaps, I get get one of those magical burgers I heard being made by this couple in Australia. I can smell them through the window. Not the whole burger mind you, they can just break me off a piece of meat and let me go to town. If any of you happen to pass by this window and see me inside of my story, feel free to turn this cup holder into a bowl.
Of course, there are those on this day who visit bodies buried beneath soil that does its best to stay soft, yet maintain a firm foundation for those above ground who need something to stand on. Once again, books from all angles take shape in the scene. We must read words to understand reality. Amazing how humans are erected.
Here, after your walk and time spent mourning those you’ve lost, people down in San Diego have created a feast to get your spirits up. They’ve taken the recipes from Australia and added their own flavors to change your tastes just enough – slightly, so that your body chemistry is altered and your mood changed. After all, we are alive, and, when looking at history, it’s amazing that we exist, here, together, at the same time. Get in line and grab a plate.
Of course, the good people of Wisconsin have been such big players in this adventure since it began, it seems only right that they’d be the ones bringing the libations to the party. After all, there are times when you just need to sit back, stop thinking about everything so much, and have yourself a beer.
On that blue balcony standing off the building just in the bottom of the frame, a small child is refusing to come inside. Her parents are telling her the sky is about to open and a rainstorm will soak her.
“That’s just what I’m expecting,” she says. “How am I supposed to understand the world if I’m not experiencing all of it’s elements.”
The adults inside feel like they have not lived at all.
A little bunny that exists in on the shell of an egg reaches out over the balcony and offers her carrot to the youngster who has no intentions of staying dry. There is something in her colors though – the combination of a palate, that lets us know she was created by someone who understands composition. Do humans have the same creator?
Up in Ontario, we see that perhaps, the artist who created the bunny who fed the child on the balcony – is so into the process of creation he does not realize the day of the week. He exists, solely in the moment of freedom he has to create. These are fleeting for humans, which is a shame. We’re here to create.
Please, please – before you roll up the newspaper (if you’re still reading newspapers) and smash me, take a look at my composition. My legs. The geometry of my body. Form. Design. There is a purpose for my existence beyond how I fit into your lives. Can you imagine that for a moment. Maybe then you’ll realize just how much effort it takes to even move a few steps.
We’ve managed to exist, our two species, with an understanding of what each of us needs from the elements around us. You think we’re talking about the seals and the birds, which pop to the forefront of your mind when looking at this picture. However, it is us, the water and rocks, who border each other out but still manage to meet at a place where rubbing up against each other creates a smoothness that cannot be replicated, not entirely, in your factories.
Though of course, we still try at the replication. We’re trying to achieve what we see in nature and cannot posses in our ever day. It’s why we stop at a painting for so long an examine the results of the brush strokes. Perhaps the secrets exist on the brushes themselves before they’ve been cleaned off of their work.
I heard about that little guy in Baltimore looking for his bowl to be filled. I’m working on it, but right now, I’m enjoying the center of attention I’ve become. We’re only this age for so long- and that goes for every age and every moment – so I’m going to enjoy. We’ll figure out how to get that done.
Let me start the day with everything that’s sweet, including the mug with the logo of our team that brought the community to the streets a few months ago. Amazing that, then, we were watching champions march, but now, we are marching to make sure the rest of the country realizes that the champions are the unions who try to keep their families fed. Amazing who we cheer for and who we walk away from.
Now here, we’ve taken the candy laid out in bed in Madison, waited for it to melt on the flight over, and created this cake for all of you Sunday Morning Story folks to have a piece of. It’s to show you that we can use existing materials to create the shapes and textures we need to survive. If you think this cake isn’t essential, then you haven’t been at the table yet to understand that we all bite and digest the same. The same.
Now, I’m not sure how the holiday evolved into bunnies and chocolate, but I think that we humans need more days to revert to childhood, so these days of celebrating things like a resurrection are best digested in cartoon form. What does that say about the results of our bodies breaking down what we eat?
Shame it’s only one day a year we take time to rearrange the exteriors of sameness that fill the grocery aisles. The want and desire appears to exist year-round. Perhaps being ruled by a calendar is keeping us from being truly human. Possible.
Here, we see the possibility of structure. Of what could be. Sure, not arranged and a bit scattered, but that might be us. This here might be us under the microscope – Perhaps it’s a close up of our DNA – the watering bucket being our mitochondria. You don’t know for sure, you’ve never been inside of anything other than your own skin.
Over in Portugal, we’ve borrowed those elements from over in the UK and created structure. The elements in the picture are no different in anything other than how they were arranged. The weight of matter is all equal.
Because the sky is too difficult to decipher, humans have created places of shelter they can stand inside of and try to reach up beyond what they see. Nothing wrong with that. It is the search for vision. We hope though that in your search, as you look through your telescopes, you don’t ignore the fact that other are looking for answers in different directions. We will all find that there is not just one answer.
Stepping through the doors of the building in South Africa, we come out on the other side to Chicago, where people are spending their mornings in benches constructed of the same wood that made the paper for the books that started off our journey this week. Reflection seems to be needed for our race.
Now please, take a look and at how sublime this creation is. Chocolates given as gifts from the world have been arranged in the form of a rocket ship that we can all climb into and, with enough fuel, rise above our planet to realize where we’ve come from. Our existence is dependent on our need for creation, but you’ll have to look towards those who know how to rearrange elements of what you thought to be real. It’s fine to believe in that. It’s who we are.