Butterfly Kisses From Ms Bow
Dear Ms Nixie,
I heard about you and your penchant for the spirit world and clocks. I heard of you from an undisclosed location and un- discovered wormhole through time in the general vicinity of a 1.21 gigawatt of electricity. It is with much delight that we, the history makers, the weavers of time, the thread to every grammatical ellipsis, the who in forgotten and remembered, the stories in hallways and the woven yarns of yesteryear might make contact with the present to offer some hindsight and forwards motion.
We have a saying in Ireland Ms;
" May you have the hindsight to know where you have been, the foresight to know where you are going and the insight to know when you have gone too far..."
I came back to tell you history is stuck. Hindsight and foresight need to be married and there's been an awful lot of racing ahead. I was chosen as one of the spokespeople but I don't represent any one religion, any one gender, any one sexual orientation or race. I cannot speak for everyone though and forgive me for that. What I do hope is that the message can be peaceful and kind and inclusive.
Might I start by quoting from a book by CJ Cherryh;
"One could step across light years un-aged; so it was possible to outrace light and time. Did one not want to die, bound to a single lifespan? Go forward, see the future. Visit the world/ worlds to come. But never go back. Never alter the past."
Did you know Ms Cherryh, a great writer, wasn't always comfortable to write proud as a woman. She went by CJ Cherryh in a world of Science Fiction dominated by men, hiding her gender in a deliberate manner and so she was left in the past in all ways ironical and unjust. It wasn't her fault though. I'm here to tell you such "glitches" in the space time continuum, are felt in the past as quakes and cracks and tears and at times grave sorrow. Do not forget. Always remember. Patch the past, then weave a better story.
Do you know, during the dark days of a man stuck on hate, stuck on power, stuck on narrowing the field, I knew only my own upbringing and what it taught about love. Then I met Abaigeal, a jewish woman and a beautiful musician. We both loved music. Music can't really hate, even if you try and narrow the field and squash the notes into a regime and pretend it still sounds as good that way. If it's tainted people will know eventually. We talked to a boy too in a concentration camp. I found her there as well, Abaigeal that is. I was part of a team. We put our heads together and found a way to make butterflies fly again. Like how we did it with Abaigeal and the boy who said "butterflies don't fly in the ghetto." I wasn't a hero. We saved 6, 500 soldiers and jews all up. I wasn't a hero. It was only what should have happened. Being a hero is something you do when you don't have to do it. We had to do what we did. I went to my faith leaders for help but they weren't heroes either and they made a lot of mistakes in that church throughout time. In this case, they did it right. I learnt a lot from Abaigeal you know and the boy who dreamed of butterflies but I also learnt that we were also very much the same. We just wanted to see butterflies fly and if that was about faith or hope or love or believing in something then it could only happen if the butterflies had different spots but were all flying free together.
There's been an awful lot of quakes from where I came. What on Earth is going on? Religion didn't cause any mean children or adults. Mean people made mean grow. Mean people interpreted time and sometimes forgot about butterflies. You don't have to believe in religion to be lovely but you can believe in religion and be lovely too. The fact that so many versions of the one religion have been made into wars over and over and over again, means that interpretation is at play. If only all of you could put your heads and hearts together from every part of this beautiful earth, bring in the sewing needles and patches and spinning wheels and wool made of understanding and intentions to make butterflies fly, then we might get some bloody sleep from back here in the past. Listen, love and take the lessons from each other that seek to build more bridges.
May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.
Yours
Ms Delia Murphy Keirnan
Dear Ms Keirnan,
I can't say I have been back to the past for sure but I can say I might very nearly have seen Mr Michael J Fox from a distance in a crowd, so practically cousins with time hey? And there was that one time a man in a car with a flux capacitor sticker went by, so you know who knows? Could have been and the local town hall does have wires attached and then of course DeLorean is the name of my friends cousin's brother's, mothers goldfish. There's links, so don't be ruling anything out all together. But I will try and take heed and behave myself and never go back from now on. I'll do my best. I'll pass the message on to Mr Who also. I'm not sure he'll be very willing to lose the Tartis in much of a hurry though. 900 years of time and space and he never met anyone who wasn't important you know. He told me you know that the universe is vast and important and ridiculous and sometimes very rarely impossible things happen and we call them miracles. Therefore, I will not 100 percent rule out myself as a recipient of time travel experiences.
Thank you for your letter Delia. It reminds me of an ancient story by the philosopher Zhuangzi which I have never fully understood until now. It goes like this....
Once upon a time, I Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awakened, and there I was then there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I am a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
I suppose it means we dream of freedom and in waking we long for that state, always wondering if we might be more free than now. Freedom is surely understanding and being let in and seen from the inside. I wish that and will that and ask that this be actioned in every way possible. I shall pass your message on to the future as it happens when anyone might read these words, written from the past already. Ah time flies my dear. And I hope everyone gets to do that....fly.
"We are all stories in the end, just make it a good one"
Dr Who xx
Yours with many butterfly kisses x(=)x x(=)x
Ms Nixie Nicla (aka Ms Beatie Bow ;)
I heard about you and your penchant for the spirit world and clocks. I heard of you from an undisclosed location and un- discovered wormhole through time in the general vicinity of a 1.21 gigawatt of electricity. It is with much delight that we, the history makers, the weavers of time, the thread to every grammatical ellipsis, the who in forgotten and remembered, the stories in hallways and the woven yarns of yesteryear might make contact with the present to offer some hindsight and forwards motion.
We have a saying in Ireland Ms;
" May you have the hindsight to know where you have been, the foresight to know where you are going and the insight to know when you have gone too far..."
I came back to tell you history is stuck. Hindsight and foresight need to be married and there's been an awful lot of racing ahead. I was chosen as one of the spokespeople but I don't represent any one religion, any one gender, any one sexual orientation or race. I cannot speak for everyone though and forgive me for that. What I do hope is that the message can be peaceful and kind and inclusive.
Might I start by quoting from a book by CJ Cherryh;
"One could step across light years un-aged; so it was possible to outrace light and time. Did one not want to die, bound to a single lifespan? Go forward, see the future. Visit the world/ worlds to come. But never go back. Never alter the past."
Did you know Ms Cherryh, a great writer, wasn't always comfortable to write proud as a woman. She went by CJ Cherryh in a world of Science Fiction dominated by men, hiding her gender in a deliberate manner and so she was left in the past in all ways ironical and unjust. It wasn't her fault though. I'm here to tell you such "glitches" in the space time continuum, are felt in the past as quakes and cracks and tears and at times grave sorrow. Do not forget. Always remember. Patch the past, then weave a better story.Do you know, during the dark days of a man stuck on hate, stuck on power, stuck on narrowing the field, I knew only my own upbringing and what it taught about love. Then I met Abaigeal, a jewish woman and a beautiful musician. We both loved music. Music can't really hate, even if you try and narrow the field and squash the notes into a regime and pretend it still sounds as good that way. If it's tainted people will know eventually. We talked to a boy too in a concentration camp. I found her there as well, Abaigeal that is. I was part of a team. We put our heads together and found a way to make butterflies fly again. Like how we did it with Abaigeal and the boy who said "butterflies don't fly in the ghetto." I wasn't a hero. We saved 6, 500 soldiers and jews all up. I wasn't a hero. It was only what should have happened. Being a hero is something you do when you don't have to do it. We had to do what we did. I went to my faith leaders for help but they weren't heroes either and they made a lot of mistakes in that church throughout time. In this case, they did it right. I learnt a lot from Abaigeal you know and the boy who dreamed of butterflies but I also learnt that we were also very much the same. We just wanted to see butterflies fly and if that was about faith or hope or love or believing in something then it could only happen if the butterflies had different spots but were all flying free together.
There's been an awful lot of quakes from where I came. What on Earth is going on? Religion didn't cause any mean children or adults. Mean people made mean grow. Mean people interpreted time and sometimes forgot about butterflies. You don't have to believe in religion to be lovely but you can believe in religion and be lovely too. The fact that so many versions of the one religion have been made into wars over and over and over again, means that interpretation is at play. If only all of you could put your heads and hearts together from every part of this beautiful earth, bring in the sewing needles and patches and spinning wheels and wool made of understanding and intentions to make butterflies fly, then we might get some bloody sleep from back here in the past. Listen, love and take the lessons from each other that seek to build more bridges.
May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.
Yours
Ms Delia Murphy Keirnan
Dear Ms Keirnan,
I can't say I have been back to the past for sure but I can say I might very nearly have seen Mr Michael J Fox from a distance in a crowd, so practically cousins with time hey? And there was that one time a man in a car with a flux capacitor sticker went by, so you know who knows? Could have been and the local town hall does have wires attached and then of course DeLorean is the name of my friends cousin's brother's, mothers goldfish. There's links, so don't be ruling anything out all together. But I will try and take heed and behave myself and never go back from now on. I'll do my best. I'll pass the message on to Mr Who also. I'm not sure he'll be very willing to lose the Tartis in much of a hurry though. 900 years of time and space and he never met anyone who wasn't important you know. He told me you know that the universe is vast and important and ridiculous and sometimes very rarely impossible things happen and we call them miracles. Therefore, I will not 100 percent rule out myself as a recipient of time travel experiences.
Thank you for your letter Delia. It reminds me of an ancient story by the philosopher Zhuangzi which I have never fully understood until now. It goes like this....
Once upon a time, I Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awakened, and there I was then there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I am a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
I suppose it means we dream of freedom and in waking we long for that state, always wondering if we might be more free than now. Freedom is surely understanding and being let in and seen from the inside. I wish that and will that and ask that this be actioned in every way possible. I shall pass your message on to the future as it happens when anyone might read these words, written from the past already. Ah time flies my dear. And I hope everyone gets to do that....fly.
"We are all stories in the end, just make it a good one"
Dr Who xx
Yours with many butterfly kisses x(=)x x(=)x
Ms Nixie Nicla (aka Ms Beatie Bow ;)
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