Niko’s Eye

Chapter 57.

Sergio.

The trees are laughing once more, dressed in their carnival clothes, the gold, emerald and scarlet of the autumn days. They play about the earthy hues of the branch and trunk, proud flags in any sky. As they do I take in the freshly calm air with that hint of an earthly aroma, the fragrance of homeliness. But I was feeling blue. It was anxiety. Anxiety. He was going to lose his mind. He was definitely going to run mad.

He felt like his whole life was amounting up to the moment where the police officers would storm into his home, damage everything, and take him away with them.

He struggled to breathe, as he held the sides of the walls in his corridors.

"Imperfections are the rocket fuel of social and biological evolution; it’s all sacred variation and we need to become smart enough to see that." he said, breathless.

I need to go and see him. Today. Now.

The drive toward variation meets the drive toward conformity for group safety in opposite directions. The relative power of these forces in the neurology of each organism and the society will determine the strength of each. Variation is favoured by safety and has the power to drive creativity and discovery. Conformity is favoured by adversity in all forms, a recipe of negative factors combined. It is, however, worthy of note, that these forces are not equal. The history of humanity is a bloody tale of g******e. Thus only the survivors are our collective ancestors. Thus the drive toward conformity is a preparation for war and is amped in power by comparison. Thus in times of fear the proper leaders must have an upper brain (PFC) capable of dominating their primitive drive and converting that amped power into solution finding over war strategy. It is a simple switch, yet all leaders must possess the ability for such.

"I am a leader."

Marching to his parked car outside, he got in and sped off.

If you are tapping back in to the divine cosmic flow then you are ready to boot up as an angel warrior. Fight the good fight. Good karma and godspeed.

Isis.

It was summer in the city. The avenue was lined with the deep green foliage that stood still in the August heat wave. Isis dawdled in their shadows before letting the sunrays heat her unguarded shoulders. She loved the heat but the shade in-between gave her the rest-bite she needed. As she descended the gentle slope she wanted to skip like she did as a girl, but instead she walked. Twenty somethings just don’t skip – right? On every doorstep was a free paper, lying still, in no danger of being blown away. Then from around the corner came the familiar sight of Alejandro, his head bobbing along, buds popped into his ears. A slow grin spread over her face, a chance to have a little fun. In the otherwise empty street she crossed to the centre line, walking a wide arc until she was behind him. Little by little she snuck closer until she could shout "Boo!" He turned with a face that was just priceless before laughing in the way only he could.

His deep voice of his had a way of igniting my internal engine, as if it knew I wanted to ride with him before I had a chance to process. When he speaks, his deep voice is magnetic to the core of who I am, as if he’s able to resonate

with all of me when others can barely achieve a fraction of it.

They walked down the streets of Barbados, hand in hand, entangled in conversation.

The thing is, Alejandro, I’m an emotional person. When the emotion is strong it feels the same as truth and it compels me. That’s great when I feel love with a person who loves me back, that’s what makes living so awesome. But there are other times when it hurts me or those I love, if I act on an emotion before I’ve seen things through the eyes of other people. So over time I learned how to question these emotions, the negative feelings and suspicions, rather in the same way I learned how to lucid dream. In the moment of negativity and entitlement I asked myself one simple question, "How would this look if I were a fly on the wall?" Then I can take a step back for a fraction of a second, enough to regain self control - maybe not fully, but better. It’s made my life so good, embracing the positive and questioning the negative. It’s smart. I’m a better friend, partner and relative. The greatest thing about me, my emotional warmth, isn’t a flaw... it’s a floor. It’s the bedrock of who I am, of the person I was born to be. I’m soft, I’m vulnerable, I wear my heart for all to see... and it takes strength to do that... so, I’m a hero; I’m a champion of those who love as I do." She said.

"There is a danger in sealing up us emotional types - in the shortness of temper that comes when we cry. There is a cruelty to taking our emotions as a type of rudeness, something "well mannered folks would hide". There is a cost in burying such pain in our bones rather than expressing it freely, one that brings on a loneliness of the soul. Yet with understanding and patience comes healing, a return to real joy, true happiness born in soulful connections. It is then we emotional types become a blessing to others, creating empathic connections with ease, becoming healers and helpers. For that is our purpose, to see what others do not because we feel so deeply. So be our heroes, help us to survive this cold world, and we will become your rescuers - shining true warmth into every heart, breathing peace and compassion into this ailing world." Alejandro said, stopping to pick up a fallen coconut.

He smashed it against a rock and gave it to her to drink some of the water.

This was normal on islands. Especially Barbados.

Wiping away some of the water that had fallen on the sides of her mouth, she said, " I want to treat you the way you deserve... with the same love and patience you showed me. So I am learning how to walk with stronger legs, feet in boots of iron. My emotions still come in brutal waves, pain felt in full measure, yet I know they are only within my own mind. I have learned to keep on walking regardless, act like they aren’t even there... and soon they aren’t. Then I come back to you with a smile and see that you are just the same as before, constant and gentle. Please know I’m healing, gaining control, finding my stable core, learning to love who I am... driving these deep emotions into my passion for life, for helping others, for loving you. You have been my anchor, perhaps next I will be yours, yet one day we will simply be birds on eternal summer winds."

Isis started crying, silently.

"Baby, let the tears flow. In those salty trickles is who you are - one who feels. You aren’t cold like a machine who runs on logic alone, who wants only what it is sensible for themselves. You have emotions so divine I want to scoop you up in my arms and keep you safe for all time. In a world of hurt it is human to cry, yet always let the joy in whenever you can. There is love here too, so much love. So let me see those eyes that swim with tears, for they shine with life and the knowledge of who you truly are."

Crying is how I understand myself best. When I cry I know who I really am. I cry when others hurt as well as myself. I cry at the brutal world news and stupid soft movies. It’s my strength and my weakness. Strong because it brings understanding and weak because who wants the listener to weep when they are looking for a strong shoulder? I wish I could turn my tears off, I do. Or perhaps just save it until I’m alone, but I’m not wired like that. My emotions swirl like ocean currents, deep and strong. Sometimes I’m scared to dive in incase I don’t make it out again, but I can’t be anyone else, I don’t suppose any of us can.

Emotions come to my mind like the waves meeting the land. I can stand here on the beach, eyes gazing out to the water but my feet can’t help but get wet. They come to me, soak my entire being and help me to understand my entire self better. Just like the land and ocean are one world, my emotions are just another part of myself, another form of intelligence to embrace, another way to learn.

To cry at sadness is strength, strength to see and engage with what is truly being seen and felt. To feel deep emotion is an open door, one ready to let any wanderer meet you as you truly are. To be happy is to feel the goodness that still lives on in the world, to share a spark of love and let it inside. To be angry is to know you are wounded, though the cause is rarely obvious. Emotions are what make us human, to be an emotional person thus is to embrace your humanity. They are the blessings of being part of the natural world, blessings with so much to teach the open heart and mind.