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Making Diamonds

William Caldwell
December 30, 2017

Seventeen-fifty-four, where was George Washington then? Stretching his chains and rods in the Cumberland? Preparing for the lead up to the French and Indian War? I forget the exact dates of his involvement in either endeavor. G. W., my hero who was he and how was he forming the consciousness and presence to become the Constitutional Congresses military arm, desirous of leading the nascent nation into battle against the red coated menace. They say he strode about the meeting hall in uniform, rampant, ready to stand in the face of the Brit and Crown.
Yes, how does one make oneself? As for me I have spent a lot of time looking into the face of children. They light my world – which I must say, is sorely needed since too much of the remainder of my day is spent in the dark tunnels of a mirror, a black slated glass some days, a black velvet drape others, a black maw, a black orchid, a black whatever, black anything. It only need be black because at this late stage I still want to dive into that dark void – maybe throw in a lifeline to see if I can find a glimmer, pull out a gem or two to make it all worthwhile. And here it is: with a child of innocence in my presence, the diamonds appear.
Now get this, the child, the innocent can be any age. Last week I met a man who of such beauty my heart melted into our handshake and eye search. His innocence called on mine and I opened into the joy of that moment with pleasure. More than a star, a meteor, a comet, a nova, a glimmer of diamond! Oh don’t let me get carried away. A comet streaking across my mind screen, that is what I experienced in clear silver crystal relief, streaking into and through my presence, leaving a flash that cements life to life. For know this, he knew me to be the same somehow; I didn’t judge.
I may or may not meet with him again. This is of no matter because the matter we shared between us, the event horizon we crossed reestablished the value, worth and joy of being human, knowing there are other humans being fully human. I love being human, letting the drapery of life’s universal soul etch the dance, the connection and communion of stranger to friend because, in truth, there are no strangers, only those who have not embraced the dazzling void and found it comforting, healing, whole and oneself innocent and whole within it. 

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