The Inheritance.

“Imagine getting an old, heavy book and a letter from your ancestors.”  Bella was saying.

Well, when I did it was not an old heavy musty book, but set beautiful lemurian crystals. They were sleek, shiny with as though with barcode within, this was the legacy of my clan, the snake people, I never really bothered too much about it, considering the Nagabana and the Naga cult was vibrant where I grew up. But these were crystals.

I was numb, disbelief and I mean, my ancestors didn’t seem much to brag about, forget about mine, nobodies ancestor seemed much to brag about. I mean look at the state that they have left us in. wars, devastation, a broken planet. They just didn’t seem to bother about the people who came after them. so these knowledge containing crystals seemed kind of farfetched.

As I meditated with the crystals, they began to speak, to share their knowledge of where life came from, and what was the need of the hour. It was empowering and disempowering at once. Empowering because there is this knowledge, the understanding that everyone leaves behind something when they die. A child, a book, painting or a house or a wall or pair of shoes something, a garden planted, at the end of the day something that their hands touched so that the souls would have somewhere to go when they died.

It was like each time people looked or touched the flower of the plant that a person planted, the person would be there.  strange isn’t it, just holding the crystal was like holding a book, the difference was the same as the difference between the diamond cutter at Surat and the healer who spoke and healed through the crystals.  My thought was when these quartz were mined and cut god knows how much of knowledge we lost. Think of it, the diamond cutter is like the lawn cutter, he might just as well not been there at all. but the people who put in the knowledge they are there for all eternity.

When I relate to the content of the crystal  I realize i am connecting to a writer, a writer who did not dream of riches and fame, those things are no doubt nice. But like all true writers, the writer had longed to leave behind a piece of himself/herself. Something that withstood the test of time and will pass down for generations. Maybe this book/crystal is just like all of us, there is a need and desire to be heard to have its inner most thoughts and feelings and despises expressed for others ot hear, to see and to understand. It was not about wanting to leave a mark, it seemed more about making people feel and connect.

Know something at that moment when I held the book/crystal I realized we’re all ghosts we all carry within us the people who came before us, and their songs they are also the songs of our children.

With book/Crystals in my hand I felt humbled, honoured and I thank the universe for it all.

“I had an inheritance from my father,
It was the moon and the sun.
And though I roam all over the world,
The spending of it’s never done.”
― Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls

 “I am participating in this creative activity organised by makers ofThe Path of Zarathustra in association with BlogAdda.” in their blog post.