Sometimes, I think we clever apes get ourselves so wrapped up in thinking up ways to define, label, categorize and evaluate our spiritual experiences that we forget to just shut up and feel.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy following the discussions on the finer points of belief like archetypes and the collective unconscious as an explanation for the the nature of the gods; whether or not unverifiable personal gnosis should be accepted as proof of divine existence; one god, two? fifty or thousands…or no god at all? A good discussion on these topics can be very intellectually stimulating so long as it doesn’t devolve into a heated argument. We human type critters have pondered these things, debated over them, killed one another and fought wars over these finite details of what is, or is not, the nature of deity since the dawn of time. But, sometimes, I think we’re thinking too much and just need to quiet our minds and experience things. I think, the truth is, none of us know with absolute certainty if we’re on this side of the veil and maybe not even when we reach the other. My thinking is that, perhaps, the big picture is just too big and we only perceive what we are able to then our minds try to organize, categorize, label and name things. Because that’s just what our species likes to do. We see shapes in the mists and grasp for a name to give them. We hear a voice speak to us with an otherworldly reverberance and try to wrap our heads around exactly who and what it was.
But, I’m thinking, life is better when there are still mysteries to ponder on and things we can not explain away or name. It gives us something to strive for. It gives life meaning and a sense of direction. It piques our curiosity and gets our creative juices flowing. It lets us know that there is still a reason to get up each day, live our lives and strive to achieve great things because maybe, just maybe, there’s something bigger out there watching and waiting. Waiting for us to grow and become. Maybe it’s the gods or maybe it’s just us. But it gives us meaning and purpose. But, set aside the thinking once in awhile and just enjoy the ride okay? Don’t overthink and get all worked up and decide the other guy has it all wrong because she’s not seeing it the way you do necessarily. It’s all a matter of perspective after all. That’s what I’m thinking. How about you?
“Nothing will end war unless people, themselves, refuse to go to war.” Albert Einstein
Did you land in the middle? Go to Page 1 to start the story.
Suddenly, I was startled back from the meandering thoughts which filled my mind.
“Eat your stew before it gets cold!” Áine admonished. “What’s on ya anyway?”
Áine is a sturdily built woman with a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones. Her curly red locks frame a face that is capable of exuding both mischievous playfulness and murderous fury in the blink of an eye. She’s been my companion for nearly two decades and we chose one another as hearth primes shortly after reaching our ages of majority within the tribe’s reckoning. In our tradition adulthood is not achieved at some fixed number of years at which some may be mature and others not. Instead, tribal elders and achievements make the decision when a person’s rite of majority shall take place and the person is considered an adult with full rights within’ the community. More on that later, on to the question at hand. Do I tell her or do I brush it off as my mind playing tricks on me?
“I saw something near the creek above the big black walnut tree. I think it might have been a stalker!” I blurt out before even realizing I had said it.
“WHAT?!” Áine gasped, eyes wide with shock at the news and it’s potential implication.
“Are you SURE mo chuid den tsaol and if you are, WHY did ya FECKING lead it HERE?!” her shock beginning to turn to anger.
“No, I’m not sure. I heard a strange buzz and saw a shadow through the tree branches that didn’t look right but it was already dark out and I had been drinking some mead. I thought it might be my imagination. I stopped by the stone circle and looked and listened but there was nothing. It might have been nothing or it would have followed me I imagine.” I stammered.
“Well, let’s hope it was just a trick of the mind then. Did you feel any sting or notice anything else? Off with yer clothes, let me look you over!” she ordered.
I did as I was told and Áine looked me over for marks, blemishes, anything that might have indicated that I could have been tagged or darted by the thing if it were a stalker. Finally, satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary she turns to me, pats my chest and looks into my eyes.
“Now, listen to me Ciaran” she says in her most serious tone. “Not a word of this around the tribe. If it had been something we surely would have known it by now and if nothing else out of sorts comes up there is no sense getting people worked up over nothing. However, it might do to have Griogair pass the word among the perimeter guard to be on extra alert just to be sure. The veil is thin right now and what you saw and heard could be absolutely anything but until we know for sure it was a stalker there’s no point in claiming it so.”
“I agree mo thaisce. We don’t know that it was anything other than the usual denizens of the forest at this point and it’s best to go about things calmly until we know otherwise.” I sigh.
We sit down to finish our meal with no more words as we watch the fire and listen to the distant pounding of the tribal drums, people hooping, dancing and feasting in celebration of Samhain and in honor of our ancestors. Everything sounds so, normal. Surely it was nothing I saw and not worthy of worry. I don’t mean to give the impression that our people live in constant fear of the outside world, what some might call civilization, and that we are completely cut off from what happens beyond the safety of our home “safe zone”. In fact, we have provisions brought in by traders and other contacts. We barter regularly with trusted people with whom we’ve had long established relationships. We receive news of what is happening out there and get access to needed medical and survival needs so that we can go on living free. Not like the poor folks who don’t belong to the privileged classes in the city. Although the air and water quality is improved from the time that grandfather and the others broke away, life is still very heavily controlled and difficult for common folks there if you aren’t born into the right family with the right connections. Civilization isn’t very civil for far too many people out there and we prefer the life we’ve made for ourselves here.
Civilization And Us
We enjoy more freedom and we’ve made some interesting discoveries which give us a bit of an edge. There are things the mundane world doesn’t see because they have never learned to see them or they choose not to. There are energies at work in the world that, if you learn their ways, can benefit you. Magick is real and some of our most gifted sisters and brothers can do surprising things when the conditions are right. There are others who know this too, even a tribe of descendants of the Tuatha de Danann living in the mountains to the east in the old state of Tennessee. We sometimes trade with them in goods which we can acquire for them and services they are able to bestow upon us through intermediaries both of our tribes are familiar with.
There are others living outside the cities, as we do. Mostly one god people, monotheists as they are called. Folks who believe in a single divine entity who is in charge of everything and has no counterparts or family. ‘People of the book’, Grandfather Caol often called them. Most of them are good folks but some of them are violently opposed to us and our way of living so we tread carefully when dealing with people of that persuasion until we have a better idea of what their leanings might be when encountering ‘the other people’ (us).
Áine and I embrace by the fire, pull our blankets over us and let the soothing rhythm of the distant drums lull us off to sleep.
A company owner was asked a question, “How do you motivate your employees to be so punctual?”
He smiled & replied, “It’s simple. I have 30 employees and 29 free parking spaces. One is paid parking.”
Teacher: Whoever answers my next question, can go home.
One boy throws his bag out the window.
Teacher: Who just threw that?
Boy: Me and I’m going home now.
There are three ways a man wears his hair – parted- unparted or departed
A man placed some flowers on the grave of his departed mother and started back for his car, parked on the cemetery road. His attention was diverted to a man kneeling at a grave.
The man seemed to be praying with profound intensity, and kept repeating, “Why did you die? Why did you die?”
The first man approached him and said, “Sir, I don’t want to interfere with your private grief, but this demonstration of hurt and pain is more than I’ve ever seen before. For whom do you mourn so deeply? Your Child? A parent? Who, may I ask, lies in that grave?”
The mourner answered, “My wife’s first husband! … Why did you die? Why did you die?”
Bahahahaha! What?! Hey, I’m sure he’s only joking. <wink>
—————————– YUCK IT UP GROUP! ————————————-
A man is stopped by the police around 1 a. m. and is asked where he is going at this time of night.
The man replies, “I am going to a lecture about alcohol abuse and the effects it has on the human body.”
The officer then asks, “Really? Who is giving that lecture at this time of night?”
The man replies, “That would be my wife.”
THE PASTOR’S ASS
A Pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won.
The Pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and it won again.
The local paper read: “PASTOR’S ASS OUT FRONT.”
The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the Pastor not to enter the donkey in another race…
The next day, the local paper headline read: “BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR’S ASS.”
This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the Pastor to get rid of the donkey..
The Pastor decided to give it to a Nun in a nearby Convent..
The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day: “NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.”
The Bishop fainted!
He informed the Nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.
The next day the papers read: “NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.”
This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.
The next day the headlines read: “NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.”
The Bishop was buried the next day.
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
Kathy said, “My father’s a farmer and we have a lot of egg-laying hens. One time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket an the front seat of the pickup when we hit a bump in the road and the eggs went flying and broke and made a mess.” “And what’s the moral of the story?” asked the teacher.
“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket!”
“Very good,” said the teacher. “Now, Lucy?”
“Our family are farmers too. But we raise chickens for the meat market. We had a dozen eggs one time, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks. And the moral to this story is, don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.”
“That’s a fine story Lucy,” she continued. “Johnny, do you have a story to share?”
“Yes ma’am, my daddy told me this story about my Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was a Green Beret in Vietnam and his helicopter got hit. He had to crash land in enemy territory and all he had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun and a machete. He drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn’t break and then he landed right in the middle of 100 enemy troops. He killed seventy with the machine gun until he ran out of bullets, then he killed twenty more with with the machete till the blade broke and then kill the last ten with his bare hands.”
“Good heavens,” said the teacher, “What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?”
“Don’t mess with Uncle Bob when he’s been drinking.”
I tried to log in on my iPad but it turns out it was an Etch-A-Sketch and I don’t own an iPad. Also, I am out of rum.
Enjoy and feel free to reply with some of your own!
Caves are portals into another world whether speaking literally or figuratively.
Several years ago Em’, the kids and I took a road trip through Wichita Falls, into Oklahoma then across into Missouri before heading back down south through Arkansas before returning west through the Piney Woods of Texas and back home on the Blackland Prairie in Arlington. While on that trip we stopped and visited a place called Fantastic Caverns in Springfield, MO. This cave was discovered in 1862 by an Ozarks farmer’s dog who crawled through a narrow entrance it found. Seeking his dog, the farmer found the entrance but kept it a secret because it was the middle of the Civil War and caves were considered tactical places for use by the army of either side in the war. Not wanting the government to come seize his property he just kept quiet about it until 5 years later when 12 women from Springfield answered a newspaper ad looking for explorers to come investigate the cave. During the prohibition years one part of the cave was set up as a Speakeasy and illegal alcohol was served there.
Caves are like time capsules in a way. Not prone to the forces of wind, sun and erosion from rain as much as the surface means things can stay as they were for a very long time. Cave paintings, animal bones and prehistoric fossils have been found in caves in near perfect condition. Even ancient human DNA. Caves are found throughout the world, but only a small portion of them have been explored and documented by spelunkers. This goes to show how little we may know about the world that lurks below the surface, right under our feet perhaps.
Another cave we have visited in our travels was Inner Space cavern which was discovered by a Texas Highway Department core drilling team in the Spring of 1963. Six inch core samples were taken to determine if the ground was stable enough to support a large highway overpass. As they were drilling one of the test holes, the bit suddenly dropped 26ft. and the highway crew knew there was something down there besides rock. You can still see the hole in the ceiling where the core sample was being taken. Also, we toured Natural Bridge Caverns near San Antonio when we were down that way visiting.
Of course, we’ve also visited Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico which I’ve written about before. Have you visited any interesting caves?
On another note. Carrie Fisher, the actress famous for her role as Princess Leia Organa died today at age 60 with her dog at her side. 2016 has been a horrbile year for loss of artistic talents. Just the other day George Michael was lost at age 53 as well. Someone posted on the book of face that if Betty White is taken humanity will riot.
Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones however:
Safe passage to all lost spirits as they return from whence they came. Blessings and hope!
Is it crazy to be crazed by the moon? A lunatic’s dilemma.
The crazed moon
By William Butler Yeats
Crazed through much child-bearing
The moon is staggering in the sky;
Moon-struck by the despairing
Glances of her wandering eye
We grope, and grope in vain,
For children born of her pain.
Children dazed or dead!
When she in all her virginal pride
First trod on the mountain’s head
What stir ran through the countryside
Where every foot obeyed her glance!
What manhood led the dance!
Fly-catchers of the moon,
Our hands are blenched, our fingers seem
But slender needles of bone;
Blenched by that malicious dream
They are spread wide that each
May rend what comes in reach.
A seven-acre plot of land in the Seattle’s Beacon Hill neighborhood will be planted with hundreds of different kinds of edibles: walnut and chestnut trees; blueberry and raspberry bushes; fruit trees, including apples and pears; exotics like pineapple, yuzu citrus, guava, persimmons, honeyberries, and lingonberries; herbs; and more. All will be available for public plucking to anyone who wanders into the city’s first food forest.
There are only two days upon which nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow. Today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live.
Tyr – God of War and Justice.
Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
Are you walking with your ancestors?
You can’t scare me. I have children. 😉
To you who made me see things I could never see alone…
I brake for gnomes, unicorns, elves, pixies, fairies, dragons, leprechaun s and other mystical creatures…
Religion is like a penis.
It’s okay to have one.
It’s okay to be proud of it. HOWEVER
Do not pull it out in public.
Do not push it on children.
Do not write laws with it.
Do not think with it.
If your god is telling you to hate any group of people, you are listening to the wrong voice in your head.
There will be doubters, there will be nonbelievers and then there will be you, proving them all wrong.
“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind I would still be in prison.” – Nelson Mandela
Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cackle maniacally and people back away from you slowly.
Sometimes you just have to stop worrying and have faith that things will work out as they are meant to. Trust in the gods.
Never waste your time explaining yourself to those who are committed to misunderstanding you.
Do no harm. But take no shit. 😉
If it is important to you, you will find a way. If not, you’ll find an excuse.
Wherever your ancestors hailed from…whatever continent, country, town or city…whatever their traditions, languages, beliefs…their recipes, their clothes, even their superstitions…Honor them, always…wear your Heritage proudly and teach your children the ingredients that run through their blood. No matter how many or how diverse…
If it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed by the truth. – Carl Sagan
In order to talk to a viking you need to know Norse code
Truly I don’t. But these things I do have great disdain for.
Life is to short to make just one decision,
Music’s too large for just one station,
Love is too big for just one nation and
God is too big for just one religion.
Student debt has grown into a debilitating, massive anchor on graduates as higher education costs have skyrocketed and help in alleviating the debt burden has become more difficult for some and non-existent for others.
This is absolutely great news for the country. If we want the nation to prosper and continue to prosper, we need to secure the well-being of the livelihoods of the coming generations.
Higher education was always supposed to be a road OUT of poverty, but today it has become a social standard that shackles young people into tens/hundreds of thousands of dollars of otherwise unforgivable debt because they were raised their entire lives believing that they HAVE to go to college or they will be lesser people if they don’t. I work a blue collar job (e.g. a job that won’t be outsources or automated any time soon), yet we are always looked down upon by society as mindless, stupid, uneducated and uncultured hicks who aren’t smart enough to do “real work”. Knowledge and education should be a right to all people, not a privilege for the wealthy. For crying out loud, this is supposed to be the 21st century, right? The age in which automation and technology makes all of our lives wonderful.
Grandfather knew the ways of the stalkers and their masters.
Fiction by Troy “Cianaodh Óg” Young
Did you land in the middle? Go to Page 1 to start the story.
My grandfather’s name was Caol which means a narrow channel or strait in the Ulster and Scottish derived dialect of Gaelic my hearth prefers. He raised me from the time I was eight as my own father, his son, was taken ill by a terrible fever and convulsions which quickly took his life only a few days after an encounter with a stalker while harvesting pawpaws on the outer edge of the loblolly grove not far from my home. It wasn’t unusual for those who came within close proximity of the machines or the strange people associated with them to come down deathly ill soon afterwards. I’ve heard stories of an entire clan of hundreds who were visited by a group of people with the machines and were given food, tools, medicines and blankets as winter was approaching. According to the visitors, their actions were “charitable” in nature. But a few weeks later a wandering trader happened upon the encampment and found nary a soul left alive. Clearly a sickness took them all, every man woman and child . Quickly too! Most of the food remained untouched and people were lying in their beds, mouths agape. The trader left immediately for fear of contracting the illness and the the area is still given a wide berth by travelers to this day.
Grandfather was an elder of our tribe for a long, long time and people admired and respected him for his wisdom as well as his knowledge of the forest, the weather, and the “before times”. He taught us that food was plentiful if you knew where to look and medicine could be found in the plants that grew near by as well. I recall him speaking of a grouping of stones that his father told him about far to the east, near a vast ocean of water called…Atlantis was it? On these stones were written words about living a life in a so called “Age Of Reason” in which one of the principles called for maintaining a human population of around a half billion people world wide. That sounds like a mind numbingly large number to me, having never seen more than maybe a thousand human beings gathered in one place in my entire life. Oh, I’m sure one could see more people in the cities but I’ve never been to one of those places. Yet, Grandfather Caol said he remembered a time in which the world human population was known to be over 9 billion living folks and people the world over could speak to one another as if they were in the same place at the same time. But, even with this great power of communication, people kept to themselves a lot and stayed within their own circles of close friends often at odds with others over seemingly trivial things.
He established the perimeter guard, a group of our best archers, and marksmen to watch for passing stalkers and disable them before they can penetrate the outer defenses of the tribal lands. He warned that things with wires, the material known as plastic and other trappings of technology, while useful, could also trigger more stalkers to come to our area. They seemed to be attracted to such things. So, the use of these items has always been kept to a bare minimum within the tribe and great care is taken not to allow too many to gather in one place. “Too many artifacts together are like a beacon to them.” he told me.
He should know. Grandfather also told me that in the “before times”, as a child, he would spend hour after hour, day after day immersed in games of sight and sound in imaginary worlds produced by these devices. Video games, he called them, virtual realities sometimes too. It sounded somewhat like using your imagination, as we all have done as kids, using a stick and pretending it’s a sword, or a gun or perhaps a bow and arrow. Except, there wasn’t a stick and something else was doing the imagining for you. I wondered, if this lack of exercise for their bodies and their imaginations as well might have led to their loss of atunement with the energies of nature and channeling. After all, you must first be able to imagine a thing before will may act on it and bring it into being. An entire civilization of billions of people who were almost completely out of touch with the cycles of life? It seemed unimaginable but Grandfather Caol never seemed prone to telling a fable unless it was well understood from the beginning that it was, in fact, a fable.
But, yes, the technology of the, for lack of a better thing to call them, masters of the stalkers, is something my grandfather was very familiar with and his link to that world was one of the greatest benefits to our people and the tradition when it came to keeping us safe from harm. “Know your enemy.”, I remember him saying time and time again. Know your enemy indeed…and what might our enemy know about me? Should I tell the others about what I heard and saw out by the largest Black Walnut tree near Aodh Creek where I often catch crawfish for a quick snack? The strange buzzing sound like a hornet but, too choppy to come from natural wings? The dark figure lurking above the canopy of the tree? It was a frightening silhouette and the sight of it reminded me of what father told grandfather he saw just before feeling a sharp sting in his neck. The spot raised up a welp and soon after, when he got home and told us what happened, he was taken with the fever, convulsions and gasping for breath. As a child, I was ushered away to be spared the experience but I already knew that dad would soon be passing through the veil.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
― Theodore Roosevelt
…the translations have gone wrong. From the quotastic John Lennon.
Your tombstone stands among the rest,
Neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled out,
On polished marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist.
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse
Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
By Walter Butler Palmer
Think outside. No box required.
If it is important to you, you will find a way. If not, you’ll find an excuse.
It is better to have less thunder in the mouth and more lightning in the hand. – Apache wisdom
Guard your tongue in youth,
and in age you may mature a thought
that will be of use to your people.
– Big Chief Wabashaw
Do stuff from your soul.
Other people really dig that shit.
More Quotastic Stuff:
Good Pagan Tips.
As a beginning Pagan it’s best to find information. Always learn! Seek help from others and stick with what works/feels right to you. This is your path;your life. Do things at your own pace. There is no right or wrong way to be a Pagan. Of course, there will be haters out there…. Some even Pagan. Hold on and continue YOUR path.
Kore’s [Persephone] sacred fruit is the apple. When an apple is cut through its equator, both halves will reveal a near-perfect pentagram shape at the core, with each point on the star containing a seed. Many Pagans, and Roma [Gypsies] continue to cut apples in this way. The Roma refer to the core as the Star of Knowledge.
Don’t judge people. You never know what kind of battle they are fighting.
A very well intended gentleman asked me if I believed in god. I knew he meant (his) god. So I ask him, of which God was he asking? He stated, the god of the bible, the only real god. My answer, not really, I work with the Goddess but believe in many Gods and Goddesses. His comment, there is only one god. My reply, sir your bible speaks of many Gods. Telling you not to worship them, for your God is a jealous god. Not that they do not exist. Therefore if you believe in your god and the bible you must also believe in the existence of mine. He just walked away. – Lady Abigail Welcher of Ravensgrove Coven Copyright 06062016
“Paganisms are not proselytizing religions. We don’t have to proselytize. Our job is to provide for ourselves a vibrant, flexible, and ongoing sustained pagan culture that is so beautiful, so rich with, and so sexy and so desirable that people will want to come to us because they see us and they say, ‘I want what they have.’”
“Perhaps it’s the greatest of all human vanities to assume that one’s religion is the only way to deity. Such beliefs have caused incalculable bloodshed and the rise of the hideous concept of holy wars.” – Cunningham – Wiccan Author
I promise I had not seen this picture before I wrote an article awhile back in which I referred to each person’s life story as “their book”. If I had, I most assuredly would have used it as the feature graphic for the article. But the day after writing it, this turned up in my news feed on the book of face. Who says the gods don’t speak to us each and every day?
If one dream should fall apart and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick up one of those pieces and begin again.
Great quotes can inspire us, make us think, challenge us and amuse us. Here are some I have collected to share. Enjoy! 🙂
Some people do indeed seem to continually create their own storms, then get upset when it rains. Every action has a reaction folks. Just sayin’ . Think!
” Turns out you CAN fix stupid, but it takes forever because the parts are back-ordered due to high demand in Washington DC” – Ron White
“We use our beauty, our cleverness, our charm to capture someone for a partnership, as if he were an animal. And then when he wants to get out of the cage, we’re furious. That doesn’t sound very caring to me. It’s not self-love.
“I want my husband to want what he wants. And I also notice that I don’t have a choice. That’s self-love. He does what he does, and I love that. That’s what I want, because when I’m at war with reality, it hurts.”
~ Byron Katie
“In times of change learners inherit the earth; while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.” –Eric Hoffer
O Lord and Lady… through Thy Perfect Grace and Infinite Blessings, may we, Thy children, become as Stars shining on the Horizon of Guidance, Birds singing in the Rose Gardens of Immortality, Lions roaring in the Forests of Knowledge and Wisdom, and Whales swimming in the Oceans of Life.
‘O Fintan,’ said he, ‘and Ireland, how has it been partitioned, where have things been therein?’
‘Easy to say,’ said Fintan: ‘knowledge in the west, battle in the north, prosperity in the east, music in the south, kingship in the centre’. ‘True indeed, O Fintan,’ said Trefuilngid, ‘thou art an excellent shanachie. It is thus that it has been, and will be for ever…’
You may be powerful today, but time is more powerful than you.