Niko’s Eye

Chapter 62.

Zainab.

The true enemy of love is when emotional indifference takes command of logic; for only when love takes command of logic can good choices be made. Indeed, love in command of both our higher logic and our primitive drive is humanity’s hero-mode.

There are times that what must be done cannot be achieved from the sanctuary of anonymity, that for the good of others one must stand and be counted as a voice for what is right; this too is a type of humbleness, a willingness to serve the good universe.

Zainab couldn’t believe that her father was supporting her. She never dreamed it would be that easy.

She remembered how her adoptive mother forbade it and treated her like a leper every time she mentioned it.

Her father had told her how she had been treated indifferently just because he had no money. Chloe’s family were scandalised by their love affair and didn’t want their daughter to marry the son of a slave.

Being a cinder-ella is not a sin. To start from poverty is a noble a-start as any. To come from a challenging start and become a great and loving person is a huge achievement. So, though we hope that Cinderella did live happily ever after, what happens often is that when a woman is poor the new family (and often the spouse in time) treats her as the maid, an inferior, a person of not-s-good genetics. Frustrations with the children are often then blamed on her - after all "he married down." Of course, there are boy Cinder-ella’s too. There are times when the girl was more affluent and the husband is treated as the "poor relation" and blamed for any problems. Families cannot be this way. They can’t treat the spouse with such cold heartedness and expect the marriage to function well. Marriage and parenthood are challenging enough without these extra pressures. Family is supposed to support and nurture. Perhaps we need to see the "happily ever after"? Perhaps we need to see how family is supposed to treat a new member that is vulnerable and otherwise alone in the world. In survival cultures (money-nexus) there is a tendancy to support the stronger partner in any controversy, the rationale of the situation bending around this truth. As such, our Cinderella girls and boys often are bullied even after the wedding.

What I do is great, yet so many others do truly great work too. Humble isn’t about being low, or feeling that way, it is feeling good and raising others up to that level in your heart and brain.

Many achieve great feats and never ask the world to see or admire them, yet instead toil day after day for others. Instead of sitting with kings, they are contented to sit with the broken, to pour love into places the privileged never witness. It is a pure humbleness to which the mighty should aspire, to be willing to climb down from their lofty perches and nurture the roots upon which all of nature depends.

She was determined to change her fate.

We can make paradise right where we are, look around, we have love and everything each other needs. What d’ya say?

Alejandro.

There was a steadiness to her, as if all the storms in the world were a whispering breeze if she was there. She was kind and clever, perhaps that’s what drew people to her. It was as if she knew she was born to be a queen of the earth, one who helped others, using her brain to fix whatever needed fixing. There was nothing "princess" about her though, just a fierce independence and a motherliness too... and she was that way from girlhood, confident with the air of a warrior. I loved her, we all did.

Her eyes spoke of a beautiful soul and her movements told of a need for nurture, but then perhaps that’s how we all are. How telling it is that so many have the appearance of the animal that has known intense suffering, such at the dogs that are rescued from cruel indifference. I knew right then, that all she needed was my love, something steady to hold onto and in time those eyes would shine as they were born to. And perhaps in that rescuing of her I was rescuing myself too. For what is the appearance but the window dressing of the soul?

Her hair was as waves of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the sun; each strand moving freely in an ocean born breeze, a compliment to her stillness. With eyes of river waters, in glossy serenity, her aura seeped into the summer air between us. And in that moment, in that fraction of time, her smile was in every God given feature, and I knew I was home.

The girl is like a snapshot out of time. I can see her chestnut-raven hair blowing in the spring breeze, her youthful face turned toward the sun. Though her feet are scarred she still dances, dances like the joy of life within her cannot be tamed. In that purple shirt and jeans she could be anyone, no-one. But to me she is the world itself and without her I cannot enjoy a simple flower or the rising sun. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe from harm, but I cannot protect her forever. I can only be there when she falls and stand well back while she reaches for the stars.

Alejandro was seated at the kitchen in his house, still daydreaming.

He had a lot on his mind and he had to offload some of it by speaking to Isis.

She came strolling in, clearly in conversation with someone over the phone.

"Emma, communication amongst our species goes mostly under the radar. It is subconscious communication concurrent with the conscious communication. It’s not just body language either. Most of the meaning of a conversation is in the ’junk talk,’ it’s in the throw away phrases and extra words. This is how we let people really know what’s going on at individual, group and species levels. And it is absolutely honest. It’s in songs, stories, art... just like in dreams, all those metaphors carry a meaning we innately understand. I listen, Em, I do. And I hear pain, struggle and a search for love, the divine spirit and peace. We are brilliant, just like the bird who builds a nest, or flies in formation, we are coordinating and cooperating as best we can."

He was just simply taken by her and her wisdom.

She loves me. She won’t judge me, or fail to understand. I should really just tell her. Her love is infinite.

Love is heroine from the right kind of Godfather. Love is a quiet emotion that in time becomes part of the oxygen you need to breathe, and so though you may feel not sure that it’s there, any form of removal and the emotions begin to choke.

Before you I always considered alternative lovers. I was faithful. Yet there was always a plan B. Now, even without you, neither in promise nor bodily presence, there is only my love for you. Should you evaporate as water into the sky, that will remain true for all of my days. And so now, for the first time in my life there are no plans at all... because you must be free. Love must be free. So all plans stop. It is as if my soul has stopped the search it has been on for a time that feels like forever, as if it no longer sees nor seeks a path, yet sits on soft grass upon a gentle hill. It was the simplest thing for you, with your eyes and voice, your touch and sexy confidence to take what no other ever could. It’s not that I didn’t want them to, I’ve wanted a love such as this for forever, it’s simply that they weren’t able to, as if my soul was in a different room and they didn’t have a key. You had it though. You had it as if God put it in your pocket with a whisper and a four leaf clover. In a way, when I met you I was stunned. My soul had been alone so long it was almost unsettling to suddenly have company. To find or seek another would be condemning myself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full well what I hid from myself before. We can never go back can we? Once we have felt the real thing. So. All these miles away with the memories of our brief time together. It’s all so silly. It’s all so real. It’s all so frustrating. It’s all so painful. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though if I could wish for a magic carpet to bring you here, I would. I’d wish it and wait by an open window.

"Babe, when you’re done, let’s talk."