Chapter 2. Walking the extra mile in the mind.
As I remember it we were in Manchester on Oldham street where the original coffee pot was, run by the lovely Italian lady, and her friends, what a great iconic place that was, my eyes are tearing up as I recall the times we had discussing every subject under the sun, “why and what’s the reason for everything “. It was the best place to get a full traditional English dinner, you could stay as long as you liked, never felt rushed, you could smoke, ( even though I had actually found it easy to stop while living and loving the Sufi life for about 18 months) and mugs of lovely tea were only 30p. and that was up to about 1998.
Oh yeah, so he said ” have you prayed for help by any chance”, I was quite shocked at first, I felt my heart speed up and my face felt warm, as though I had been caught out in a lie, when my mind flashed back to remember the night before, I had actually been lying on the floor face down in the prone position crying, and thinking, God if your there…. I don’t know what I am supposed to be doing here help me. My reply to tramp was ” No, I don’t believe in God”, he smiled at me with that knowing look and said ” neither do I, he’s either there, or he’s not”. I replied with ” do you want to come for a cuppa tea” he smiled and we went to the coffee pot.
As we walked in the ladies who ran the place all greeted him well, giving him a kind of knowing smile, he went and sat down while I said let me get the tea. Once we were sat at the table he said inquisitively, ‘By the way “What’s the difference between £5. And £1″?
I didn’t answer straight away….. and I am not at liberty to give the answer I gave to him in this book, for reasons that will be explained later. The short of it was he liked my answer, and smilingly said ” Arr your a thinker”. We both relaxed and it felt like I was sat with a loving father having the talk I had been waiting for all my life. Even though he seemed to do most of the talking while I listened. He spoke in what some would call parables, at the end of each story there was always a question. I discovered his knowledge of the so called esoteric was very extensive, covering subjects within and around what is known as the scriptures, mainly the old and new testaments and their missing books like the apocrypha. I began to have many questions which he never answered directly, there was usually a story with a question. The most powerful story he told me was about a blind beggar and his cup. I later re wrote it and called it the ‘Blindman story’ or ‘Blue bowl’. Which goes like this.
Once upon a time there was a boy who was born blind. When he was 5 he was sent to school, when he got to the school the teacher said “Here’s a Blue Bowl, go out on the streets and beg. While on the streets he would shout everyday ” Please put a penny in my blue begging bowl”. Half way through his life an old tramp came up to him and said. “You know you’re bowl, it’s not Blue”.
He carried on shouting “Please put some money in my Blue begging bowl”. Anyway, he got to about 90 years old and died. After he died he found himself running round outside the gates of safety, shouting, ” Please, put some money in my Blue begging bowl”. This went on for some time until everyone came out to see what all the commotion was about. Everyone was there, Kindness, Caring, Sharing, Patience, Innocents, Wisdom and Truth. Kindness went up to him and said. “We don’t want to harm you or hurt you in anyway, but your bowl…. it’s Not Blue!, can we ask you a question?
Now, before they ask their question, Who is lying in that story? That’s what tramp asked me “Who’s Lying ?, how do you know the difference between truth and lies?” And no way was he going to say another word. I kept asking my self on the way home, who is lying, I went over the story many times the way he told it about a beggar with a cup asking for change.
To be Continued