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At best it works like this:

I create and build something, someone comes along and breaks it by accident, clumsiness or combination of stupid circumstances. He stumbles, knocks it over or something like that. Someone is terribly sorry, after all it was an irreplaceable one-off. I put a lot of love, patience, time and work into it. He offers to help me rebuild it or somehow compensate for the damage in some other way.

 

Or it works differently:

Same thing as above, only the destroyer doesn't see his fault at all. His ego, which is always right, for power, victory and the system of law and order that has been perfectly polished and adapted to his needs, rebels. It wasn't him. The thing was already broken anyway, it was useless anyway and he was just the victim of an insinuation and hired a lawyer...

 

What happens then:

Not only am I saddened by my ruined creation, I am disappointed in someone's reaction, and I also get mail from the expensive lawyer setting out a distorted account of the situation on the part of the destroyer. This makes me even more sad and now angry because I know the truth and so does the destroyer. Now my account looks poor and I can't afford a lawyer who will help me rightly. I'm realistic and let things be. But what doesn't calm down is my sadness about my destroyed creation and my anger about the destroyer's reaction and the lie. And that anger grows. She grows and grows. It not only eats me, but also reaches the destroyer. I'm so paralyzed by this anger that I swear to myself never to build anything again because it will be destroyed anyway and the destroyer actually stumbles one day and breaks his neck.

 

But now I know that everything material passes away - energy does not!

She wanders and wanders through all the tides. Reaches my neighbor and gives him a stomach ache, his visitor a headache and so on. A frustrated creator, I die now.

Many years later I will be reborn, as will the destroyer. We meet. We recognize each other. I tripped him and he destroyed my creation and my visions. I ask him. "Do you see your mistake and admit that you destroyed my work?" He straightens up and answers "No". Now he gets rude and insulting. "The shit thing was rubbish anyway. What was that supposed to be?” The energy from back then also rushes to the meeting place. An argument ensues, perhaps to the bitter end, or perhaps not quite so badly. We two quarrelers are broken or injured and the energy from back then - let's imagine it as a bubble - grows and grows and wanders and wanders. The neighbor no longer gets away with a stomach ache, but gets a stomach ulcer. His visit caught this time with a bad migraine.

 

But maybe and hopefully the destroyer will see his guilt. He returns the favor and shakes my hand in farewell. "No offense," he says and leaves and I hear a small pop. The karmic energy bubble has burst like a small soap bubble.

 

 

This story tells what this could look like on a large scale:

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The Messenger

 

In a world far away from ours, because something like this would never happen here, a few thousand years ago a high envoy of creation was born and mingled with the Yushoite people. The events of that time made his appearance necessary and so the envoy made it his task to teach the people living there, to heal and to remind them to trust in the omnipresent creation. The people there lived in many places unhappily in anger and strife, they had lost faith and trust. Their rulers strove for power and earthly abundance and had averted their gaze from the vastness of infinity and longed only for dthereafter to make their reflection appear splendid and to decorate their territory splendidly without regard to others.

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The Messenger came as a humble man and reminded people of the guidance, splendor and glory of creation, showed them so that they remembered them again, healed the sick and taught those hungry for knowledge with wisdom and patience. He was praised in many places and people followed him and took new courage and entrusted themselves again to the omnipresent creation, which created them and guided them from time immemorial. More and more people now accompanied the pilgrimage of the Messenger. They turned away from the blinded rulers and made known the words of the envoy. Of course, this did not go unheard and seen, and so the jealous rulers had the envoy pursued. But this was not the only evil. Also among those who followed him were people who were of high minds and morals, but instead of trustingly and gratefully following the Messenger and learning and growing from him, which they mostly did, they envied his wisdom and unconditional kindness. The Messenger sensed this and recognized the danger. He had to learn cruelly what mischief envious and resentful confidants can cause. He was betrayed by them and delivered to the cross, albeit with sadness and shame. He only claimed to be an envoy of creation with the task of directing people's gaze away from the worldly confusion and deception, up to the infinite fullness of creativity. But the rulers, full of envy and anger because of the fleeing herd of people, just called him a liar and a charlatan. With lies and deceit they made speeches before the Yushoite people. The man seduced the people and led them astray.

The ambassador was tortured and humiliated in dark vaults. His skin was torn and covered in blood he lay on the ground and was desecrated with scorn and kicks. Led past his former followers, who were now spitting, shouting and throwing dirt at him, he was finally nailed to a piece of wood so that everyone present could laugh and soil him again.

When the cruel ordeal finally ended, the Messenger was handed over to those who stayed with him with love and loyalty to the end. They laid out the defiled man, anointed his bruised body, and covered the cruel disgrace of men and his deep wounds with a white cloth.

After three days, those who were loyal to him went back to that place to bury him. They were accompanied by envoys of the rulers and curious people. But there on his bier was just the white cloth, folded neatly without a stain.

The faithful, weeping, gently took the cloth and gratefully knelt in front of the bier, the curious ones froze with open mouths and the emissaries of the rulers sweat ran from their foreheads and they cowardly retreated from this place and ran to their masters to be frightened to cancel.

The news of the disappearance of the envoy who had been believed dead spread like wildfire. Those who betrayed him impiously thought they were doing penance by committing suicide out of their own unpardonability or by begging for forgiveness in lonely places. The Yushoite people were divided into two. Many suppressed their guilt and forgave themselves, saying to themselves: "Others had finally turned away from him and threw stones at him". But many felt ashamed of their guilt and of being blinded by the ruler's hate speech and turning away from him. They treated him with shame and sadness. Only now that he was no longer there were they grateful for each of his loving words and each of his healing deeds.

However, a small group, including many of the rulers, did not want to see their guilt and they cunningly devised another plan that not only won them the hearing and obedience of the people, but also promised them power and wealth. They planned behind closed doors and on to proclaim on a table with golden dishes that the Messenger was only on earth to show people their trespasses but, as it were, forgave them in generosity and kindness and that his only purpose was to die for the sins of people. But what they did not know was that the Messenger was sitting at this table in an immaterial form and what they did not hear was that he got up in shock and sadness and left the table and the room with the words:

 

"No, gentlemen, they did and still do wrong!

I was born,

to live

just like you."

 

The plan worked. With sentimental expressions, the clever gentlemen threw themselves on soft cushions on the ground and proclaimed the holiness of the Messenger, who had only come to die for the sins of the people. And people finally followed them again, be it out of a guilty conscience or with the hope of a wiser rulership. For decades, centuries and a few millennia, the envoy appeared again and again in this world in the most diverse and mostly inconspicuous forms to see what the people made of his inheritance.

His anger and resentment grew bigger and bigger. Peaceful and wise peoples were forced to believe in him and their own idols were bloodily shattered. The Reglision - that's how the clever gentlemen called the community, what they made from the presence and the wisdom of the envoy for themselves wealth and power, grew and grew. With humility unknown to themselves, they forced or bought the faith of the masses, and the masses, relieved for the dearly paid absolutions of their misdeeds, quickly forgot the real message of the Messenger.

All the time the Messenger had to watch and endure that in his name murder, desecration, lied and acts in disregard for creation were being done.

Anger turned to anger and that anger grew and grew in him. He no longer understood his task at the time and wondered why he was so cruelly persecuted and desecrated. The misinterpretation of his appearance haunted him like the most macabre mockery. WHY did he ask himself, why have I shown them how to heal with love and given them wise advice if they devise nothing else but to incite hatred, the gift of creation - to destroy life and make people stupid?

 

One may understand it or not, a few millennia after its first appearance it came back. As in the past, he came back in inhospitable times as an inconspicuous man and mingled with the Germand people. But now he knew how to reach a people in poverty and hunger, namely with lies and clever rhetoric. At first he was ridiculed for his powerful visions that promised the people to be something better. It just has to follow him and subjugate the unfortunate rest of the people living in this world. In his visions, dominion over all men was only an accessory to his mission. Because everything in him was aimed at a single people - the people of the Yushoites. The people who had betrayed, desecrated and killed him and abused and used his teachings and created so much shame and suffering in his name over the millennia that even he, as a high envoy, froze his heart.

And so he did. Now no longer an inconspicuous figure, but ruler over the Germand people, he took cruel revenge on the Yuschoite people, had them persecuted and died cruelly. He tempered his anger, but his seemingly dormant essence was not asleep. She had made herself very small and hid in his frozen heart and was crying.

The rest of the world rebelled and opposed him. But they shouldn't judge him, he did that himself...

Burdened with grave shame, he withdrew. Here and there he reappeared in this world and in unspeakable, cruel and sad incarnations delivered himself to the knife. How could he become such a beast?

 

Yes, how could he become such a beast? If we now go back to the beginning of the story, we know the answer. It is so simple that it is difficult to comprehend the millennia of carnage. It all started with a lie seeded with envy, resentment, hatred and betrayal.

 

The envoy wanted to appear in this world one last time and hope for the truth and an honest ask for forgiveness. So he gave birth again and managed to appeal to the head of the Reglision. In an impassioned speech he told the pontiff his whole story, from all his incarnations as a wise healer persecuted, humiliated and desecrated by men to a genocidal and vengeful beast to which crowds of people cried "wellness" in awe and faithfully obeyed him.

He admitted that all facets that a being can carry within itself also filled his being, from light-filled wise healing to the very deepest darkness, destruction and madness.

 

The pontiff's face swelled over his stiff and tightened collar. It turned blood red and his breath panted. He sprang from his jeweled throne, raised a trembling arm and pointed a finger at the envoy. He yelled as best he could, the stiff collar really getting in the way: "Wake up, get that maniac out. His words desecrate the face of the saint. This is blasphemy! Out with him!”

The envoy slowly got up and took a deep breath. With a lost smile, his eyes once again roamed the hall, which was richly decorated up to the ceiling. Sadly his gaze stopped at the nailed image of himself, immortalized in the most beautiful, finest and most expensive white marble.

"It's okay, I'm going. You don't have to throw me out. My words are the truth and the truth does not desecrate my face. If you would speak them, and that is all I asked of you today, my face would heal. The truth is that I was born to live. You must die with your sins alone or you courageously set to work to change your destiny, to confess your guilt, to accept your responsibility and not to accuse the gods of every misdeed and mishap. Only your face is blasphemous here. Look at your expensive robe and your golden scepter! A true member of the Council of Creation would not wear such a thing, but would pawn it at the pawnbroker and give the money to those who are sick and starving."

He turned and left and never came back to this world. And with him went all the envoys who had come with him to remind people, whether large or small, of the true leadership and providence. And from now on, fate lay solely with the people of this world. Will they remember? Will they again submit to the true laws and the order of what created them and will they draw the right lesson from the fate of the envoy and finally understand that creativity does not grant a statute of limitations? Because it calls for truth and healing. Life gave to EVERYONE and whoever destroys this gift must repent and heal it again. And sincere repentance requires the truth.

 

Author: Maren Art