Back in black...

"The Nameless One."

"Wait, don't hit that button!"

I tried to stop him but you know how strong the Nameless One is when he’s in a rage. It all happened so fast. I mean, he appeared out of nowhere. One minute I’m merrily working away in my blog-shop and then bam, like magic he stood there wearing a pointed blue hat decorated with yellow stars and crescent moons on it.

(He claimed he "borrowed" it from the Wizened Wizard.)

He was carrying a weapon; a really big axe like one of those you see in that World of Warcraft game. His eyes were wild with hate and he was foaming at the mouth. He started screaming, “I’ve met Frank Zappa! I know Frank Zappa! And you, sir are no Frank Zappa!”

I was like, “Dude, chill out. Put down the axe and let’s talk this thing out.” My words were of no avail. He whirled around and began chopping and hacking at the HTML of my blog. I was shaking in my avatar and fearing for my virtual life.

“Wait, don’t touch that button!”

And then everything went blank...

It was horrible.

Then, there was a bright white light and I heard a sound like the voices of a thousand Bill Gates singing hosannas to the highest. I saw all of my former web pages coming to greet me. It was wondrous to behold. I was going home...

Just when I was about to enter that great bitmap in the sky, a voice called out to me. It was faint at first, but it kept growing stronger and more insistent. “Dirk_Star, don’t go into the light! Turn away from the light and look at me!” Ruefully I turned my head and there she was, the Pixie.

“Follow me!” she cried, “We can fix this; trust me, it’s not your time yet.” She stretched out her hand and my fingers entwined in hers and suddenly I was back in the blog-shop.

The Nameless One was gone but the devastation of his visit remained. Everything lay in ruins around us; all of my links were gone, my wonderful award lay shattered and in ruins on the floor. My psychedelic graphics were nothing more than a colorful memory.

“It’s alright, Dirk_Star. Do exactly as I say. I want you to click your ruby-red-slippers-of-reset together three times and shout, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”” Pixie smiled and her radiance lifted my spirits. “Believe those words in your heart and everything will be as good as new.”

Even though my heart was still heavy, I did as she instructed and as you can see with your very own eyes, everything was magically set to rights and again the “Yellow Blogarine” has returned to the waters of the Internet.

It was a miracle!

Yes, I once was lost, but thanks to the Pixie, I now am found.

Why oh why does the Nameless One hate me so? He is determined I must perish. If ever you come here and find that I am missing, please send Scotland Yard to his blog immediately.

If your link is absent from the list of good vibes please tell me and I will replace it as soon as possible. Again, this is no fault of my own.

Blame the nameless one...

He’s trying to kill me!

My gift is my song girl, and this one's for you.

Behold, the story of a lotus flower.

One of my favorite symbols of spiritual growth has always been the Lotus plant. I first came across the story of the Lotus in my studies of eastern religions. Although the flower itself is truly remarkable this is not the aspect of the plant which I find so fascinating. Rather, it is the story of how the plant produces the blossom that captures my attention.

In India, the Ganges River is not just a symbol of a religious belief system. The river itself is considered to be a goddess. Her waters have been the heart of India’s spiritual life for countless centuries. People have come to the Ganges to wash, to cleanse the soul, for renewal, to be anointed, and at the end of life to be cremated and consecrated to her depths. Having your ashes flowed over by the Ganges completes the earthly journey and returns you home.

The Ganges River covers a substantial area and touches the lives of countless villages and communities. Along it’s journey it collects a lot of the refuge of daily life and the remains of many people going home. Yes, all manner of awful crap sinks to the bottom of the Ganges River. Hence, the river bottom is a centuries old collection of sludge. Some would go as far as to say it is one deep nasty pit of excrement.

And this is where the seed of the Lotus plant begins its story. Its journey begins by falling through the murky waters of the Ganges River and landing smack dab in a heaping trough of stinking poop.

Welcome to the world little fellow.

Having no choice in the matter the small seed puts forth roots and begins its growth back up through the crap towards the warm and nurturing light of the sun. Straight as an arrow the stalk of the lotus plant heads for the surface of the Ganges. It does not matter if the distance it must travel is ten, fifteen or even twenty feet. Straight and true, it grows towards the light.

Eventually, the tip of the stalk pierces the surface of the water and only then does the blossom of the Lotus opens its petals and reveals its inner beauty to the sky. This moment of standing revealed in the light of the sun is worth every moment of the journey both into and then out of the river of crap.

Sometimes the Internet reminds me of the Ganges River. Man, there is a lot of poop floating around in there. Some of it is really nasty and stinky too. It’s certainly not something I’d like to feel squishing around between my toes if you know what I mean. But there’s also some radiant Lotus flowers floating in the murky waters and one of the most lovely I’ve found goes by the name of, whimsical.

When her seed fell into the metaphorical waters of the Ganges River of life, she literally fell, as in from the top story of a burning building. She bounced a couple of times and landed hard in a great-big-heaping-pile-of-hot-steaming-poop.

The next time you find yourself thinking how tough you’ve got it and how hard it is trying to hang on to your sanity; go and peruse the archives of her story. Then take another look at whatever situation you find yourself in and count your blessings. I love her story. It is a real life lesson of courage and heart. It is a true example of strength.

Now, of all the things this beautiful flower lost to the fire that altered her life the one that touches my heart the most is her loss of Christmas. Yes, the fire occurred just four days before Christmas and she’s never felt the same joy again during this season.

I think she needs a Christmas miracle...

And I’m kind of hoping we can give her that miracle.

Maybe if we all take just a minute to stop by whimsical’s place and offer her a Christmas greeting she’ll begin to recapture the essence of this wonderful time of the year. If we’re lucky, the light of the sun will shine down upon the flower of her heart and rekindle the magic of Christmas and she’ll be even further healed.

Hey, miracles happen...

The whimisical Lotus Blossum.

"Merry Christmas, Babe."