The Alchemist

 I am often in awe of my children. I am humbled, bowed down and amazed by the things that they teach me. They've become my advisors, High Priests and sage counselors. They are fearless and true to their own inner compass and core.

My eldest son has always revealed to me his inner quest for Truth and Wisdom. Unaware of how often he Radiates both. He is gifted at oration and debate. He knows that only the posing of proper questions, will bring us the answers we truly seek.

This same son has just revealed to me his alchemy. He is practiced in the art of elemental specialties. Fire, Water, Metal, Gas. Steam and currents of high voltage and velocity.

My son just added years to my life. As they both, often do.

 It is difficult for me to ask for help. I fear being a bother and not being able to do for myself. 

My son, the alchemist, however, appeared at my door this afternoon to transform my world.

As he performed his alchemy, we talked of many things, as we often do. He taught me scientific truths about what the phenomenon known as "cold", actually is and is not. And he taught me how this relates to his philosophy of explaining the fact of the existence of God. I shared with him my teapot meditation. Which refers to the utter, silent, still point of the bubbling waters just before the teapot whistle blows. It is the moment, I believe, before the water ultimately surrenders itself to the transformation of itself.

It is alchemy to weave ideas so intricately together with my children. Spinning tapestries of Thought and Light and Hope from the thin air that breathes and surrounds us.

My son fixed my kitchen and bathroom and dryer. He worked with the fire and water and sources of power. His true Powers were kindness and goodness of Heart, while weaving alchemical wonders of wizardry.  With very little sleep. After just stepping off of an airplane.

I am in awe of my children. And the many things they did not learn from me, yet gently teach me.

They are gifts of inner Alchemy. And treasures far more precious than spun gold. They are gifts of Presence I can hold. That always, endlessly, hold on to me.


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