#also why is it 'bessy' sometimes and 'bessie' others? even in the same paragraph

[dodger-chan]

Well, I feel like we're getting at some themes of the book here.

“No!” said Bessy. “Some’s pre-elected to sumptuous feasts, and purple and fine linen,—may be yo’re one on ’em. Others toil and moil all their lives long—and the very dogs are not pitiful in our days, as they were in the days of Lazarus. But if yo’ ask me to cool yo’re tongue wi’ th’ tip of my finger, I’ll come across the great gulf to yo’ just for th’ thought o’ what yo’ve been to me here.” “Bessy; you’re very feverish! I can tell it in the touch of your hand, as well us in what you’re saying. It won’t be division enough, in that awful day, that some of us have been beggars here, and some of us have been rich,—we shall not be judged by that poor accident, but by our faithful following of Christ.”

(emphasis mine)

(I can't say when I started reading I was expecting the book to be quite so Christian and I feel a little uncertain trying to draw too many since all I know about Christianity comes from cultural osmosis. Feel free to let me know if I am missing something here.)

Bessy is responding to a comment of Margaret's that if Bessy kept talking about her peers suffering, Margaret would feel guilty about going to the Thorntons' dinner party. The emphasized bit nearly had me screaming. While it is an accurate assessment of reality - some people are born rich - Bessy's phrasing makes it sound more like a moral assessment than an accident of birth. It makes me think of prosperity gospel, which I tend to associate with twentieth century televangelists, but I wouldn't be shocked if its doctrinal origins were founded in the industrial revolution.

Margaret's response absolutely rejects such a sentiment. She suggests Bessy must not be in her right mind for saying such a thing. However, as she continues, it feels like Margaret has misunderstood Bessy's words. Margaret insists that she and Bessy could be equals spiritually, but Bessy was specifically citing the physical world. Because what good are sumptuous feasts or fine linens to the dead?

I think we're seeing a Margaret who is still learning about earthly justice and equality.

[saffanon]

** When we've completely lost the plot, the Divine sends us a Messenger **

This Harry Styles music video is just over 7miutes long. It tells the story of a remote island with all that comes with living on islands. Over years things went wrong, usually natural hazards and the islanders lived a life of strict rules applied and adhered to by everyone at all time, to prevent any repeat of something bad, such as the last hurricane for instance, happening again.

Then a baby was born who had a shiny face and stood out from everything and everyone else. No one on the island had ever come across this type of phenomena. As it goes, he had profound effect when he came into contact with locals, his light, you see. One could say, "did not gel well". For, I'd imagine the fearful islanders were fretting over how much darkness so much light may bring.

Largely avoided by each and all, he tried ways to change himself, so as not to stand out that much and fit in better. With everyone avoiding him, let alone talk with him, really out of fear of his difference, he tried to discover his own voice. However, alas, he had no voice.

Burned out by loneliness, his inability to change himself to fit in, or even hear himself speak, he was giving up. On the island and everyone around him, giving up on himself and Life itself even. Out of despair he put a few pebbles into his pockets and walked into the sea to kill himself (bless his heart, for the pebbles meant to anchor him to the bottom of the ocean long enough for him to die, could not have weighed more than 500g.)

Perhaps he was believing that by offering his life up to the mighty ocean, which basically ruled over the fearful islanders for all it's natural power, may serve as sacrifice to even free the island.

Only, just before he took the final plunge, there was a small fish gasping for seawater in a tide pool that caught his attention. Every time he wanted to fall into, and give his life to the ocean god, he was sidetracked by the fish flipping a bit.

It was very interesting that he returned the fish to he ocean, however, what do you know, back to "doing The Big Dive", there the little fish was back. Finding himself gasping for seawater, in a tidal pool, but still outside the ocean and he could not live outside the ocean as much as the boy could not live under water.

Suddenly our boy became a man with a mission. Possibly recognising how, if the tide is against you, for his little fish, survival in an isolated tidal pool may not be that much different to having to survive on a remote island?

He did not immediately quite know how to care for the fish. He tried to carry it in a water filled paper bag, which broke. He entered places where he was forbidden to go by fearful proprietors, for the effect he had on their trying to keep their stuff together as to the norm. But now he needed a container to keep his little fish alive and he barged in to grab their coffee perculator's water jug.

As the fish grew, the boy developed on par, gaining independence and confidence, since he discovered that he had been able to so successfully care for this fish, as much "out of water" as himself in his own community.

At some point however the fish grew so big that his tank broke and there was no bigger containers left in the whole of the island. All the islanders came together out of pity for the fish and they helped the boy to carry the fish to the ocean. Where he rightfully belonged.

Through this action the islanders gained some sense too, of being able to give to the ocean what belongs in the ocean, for once not restricted by fear.

The boy, now alone again, repeated his attempt to see if he could discover his own voice. And, indeed. He had a voice. He had a great voice and he could sing. Sing about positive things. Like love and all that.

Shortly after he discovered his voice, the boy got on a ship and left the island. Never to be seen again.

In psychoanalysis we often make use of story telling to explain something that routinely take place in our everyday lives. Actually, so did Jesus and other great teachers over times. It often makes it easier on our own fragile hearts to first look at something else, get understanding of that, before we bring it back to understanding ourselves.

In similar fashion the saying may be "man is not an island", meaning we need people around us and to get on with them. In that degree we need to be able to fit in.

But on another level all around we find ourselves living on isolated islands too. Our community is an island of sorts. Our family is an island of sorts. Within our family the unity of the parents and everything that that entail put them in a small island of their own.

And then, sometimes, we find those of us who are the proverbial fish out of water in our islands.

I'm generally cautious, in every way, of an one size fits all DIY fad-psychology. Or even standardised programmes, for much of the same reason. I don't without taking care and thinking it over do the "you are beautiful when you are yourself", that type of positive affirmation thing, even when I choose what memes to post on our page, I am steering away from so many of them out there. In fact, I often get annoyed when I see the irresponsible self love tripe some people put out there. If a person is the leader of the "NY MauMaus" gang and runs havoc in the whole of his extended neighbourhood, the last thing we want to tell them is "you are special", "you are a winner", "what others think of you doesn't matter as long as you be yourself".

So, that was the long way of saying, to a degree we all have to conform and fit in to make society function. The biggest failure of the current South African government really is that there are no longer any rules. For if they do not apply to you why should I bother?

But whom I really want to talk about here is you. Who somehow have the shining light in you that brings fear to others who've not become used to light yet. Where you have to walk around wearing a sack over your head because of superstitious and fear driven communities.

When we look at the island of the story, they were living like prisoners of fear based, well really, clap trap (nonsense).

You know what. There is a story out there that long hair is aging. By age 30 all women need to cut their hair. Now I lived during the time when short spiky hair had the edge, so about at age 27 I decided I'm going to grow my hair, just to really have long hair before THAT time after which I shall never be able to wear long hair again. And I've never cut my hair short again. Now I'm really at that age where almost none of my friends still have long hair and my hair is down below my waist. It's longer than it's ever been. When I meet up with friends and they begin to say astonishedly, "Your hair... (urgently needs a trim?) I already interrupt by saying, "... yes, I'm not cutting it."

I mean, it's a silly example to spend a paragraph on. But so is the notion of cutting you hair because, well, who? and when? it was decided as the way decent folk should do things? I just loved those untidy little gardens you come across in London, sometimes a mattress and an old Christmas tree sitting in the garden side by side. For in middle class South Africa lawns almost have to be trimmed by nail clippers.

They say light drives out the darkness and darkness cannot drive out light. Which is Biblical and scientific and all.

But I can tell you that. In real life darkness can become an endless drain on light. I recently had someone saying to me they can't explain it, but it's just as if they do not belong. Never felt they fit in or belonged in their family home. All they do to get through the day is to lock themselves up in their bedroom. Really just because it is as if the atmosphere in the house drain them of all their energy.  

Well, perhaps it may be that in the remote island of your home (or community) you bear the shining face of someone who naturally comes with light in them. And perhaps your island is dark.

Who knows why we find some of these light bearing people, where they got that light from or if there may be a Higher Purpose for these people? It's just sad how many of them are all too often buried by the islanders around them from the Isle of Mediocracy.

Our boy with the shining face was the light bearer in a community who feared light. They tried to bury him by ignoring and avoiding him in order to perhaps socialise him into dropping the light bearing act and conform enough so to be allowed to become one of them.

That may be the young girl from an abusive home who is pretty enough to attract the local hoodlum and marries him within weeks to get out of the house where her drunken dad routinely beat the living daylights out of anyone who may come within fist range from him. To then continue to be beaten by her drunken husband once the short honeymoon is over.

Have you ever noticed how a gorgeous young girl can age overnight and look like your aunt Bessie who hand tilled her farm and never bathed in such a marriage?

It's because if light is surrounded by and fed with only darkness day after day, the darkness taps the living lights out of such a person 'till only the corpse remains.

And let me tell you, it's dark communities, dark countries, sometimes you can even be captured by dark nonsense beliefs spouted into people's ears about their race versus other races, sometimes dark beliefs preached by dark spiritual leaders, dark husbands and fathers. But I have also seen how a beautiful looking dark hearted woman can destroy a good man. So I am not in that feminist club who blames men for everything that is wrong.

We see darkness is everywhere. And it really feels, I don't know if it feels like this for you too, as if it is growing. However, at the same time, I hope, that's what it looks like to me any way, so are the shining faces. Or, perhaps it is a new direction my own career is being taken by the Divine God. Because i just can't remember that I've noticed before, in my job, so many people who stand out, to use the English expression, like a sore eye, from the environment they come from.

So, dear Light Person. Perhaps, as with our boy from the song, you were meant to bear your light. Into the darkness and false lights out there. Perhaps you should start thinking of taking the sack off your head and stop trying to fit in. Goodness knows, we do need some Light.

Because, perhaps, as with the boy, you were sent in for such a time as this. To shine your light to confront the darkness and question the lies. If you do not do that you will never discover your own voice. Even so when questioning the norm should b done by example only, without even saying a word.

But moreover, perhaps the whole point is that you're not an islander. Perhaps once your mission is accomplished, when you start hearing the beauty of your own newly discovered voice, it's time to break the ties and move on to new shores. I think people like that outgrow the challenges posed by their situation and move on to meet new challenges somewhere else. It's almost as if that sort of light is meant to grow.

And if you now find yourself in a dark place, where the dark spirits of those around you tap your light, but there is no way out. Perhaps your stay on the dark island is not quite over yet. So lock yourself in your bedroom all day if that is the only way you can avoid that constant drainage of your light spirit. Or what other means you may use. Take care of your Light, so perhaps that is the time to get to know God better. Get to know yourself as you discover more about God. You may not get that amount of alone time again. And remember, our boy had no voice. He didn't preach to people or told others how they should lead their lives. (Sometimes it is well meant and sincere, but at the same time I think the world has had it up to here with that type of scene for the levels of hypocrisy often served up with these sorts of messages.)

The Divine gave him the light and the Divine used it without the boy even realising it. With fish and all. Once the islanders discovered Love, the stronghold of Fear was broken and they had their own light coming through.

But whatever you do. Do NOT FORGET that if you are different and different in a way no one can really explain- who always understands the works of the Divine? So take care of yourself as such a person. Do not run with the local gang because otherwise you'll never get a girlfriend. You're on a different level. At the Right Time the Right Girl for you will all of a sudden be new to the neighbourhood and in need of a decent bloke to show her around.

Instead look for the little fish the Divine may send your way to help you discover your own voice. Look, remember, our boy had to dedicate himself to the fish. It was a process, he had to learn. He didn't reach the end of his tether and put 500g of pebbles in his pockets and a Godly voice spoke from the seas saying, "OK my child, I hear your prayers and I've seen your tears, do not kill thyself. I'm removing the light from you so you can become a happy islander and live a life ruled by fear too."

So, as you pray, don't miss your fish because your plan was to rather die!

But don't settle unless it is made clear by the Divine that you should do so either.

When you discover your voice and your mission is completed, move on. You need to also feed the light from time to time if you want to keep it burning. If you forever are only going to be surrounded by darkness your little lamp is going to burn out at some point.

And never be ashamed of your light. Let those with the dark spirits wear the sacks over the heads, if sacks wearing should come into the question.

Here is the link to the song and also the story, https://youtu.be/yezDEWako8U

@shamelesscouragethe

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