Alimaka Stories

By White Feather

Alimaka worked at the Akashic Hall of Records and could tap into the life-changing moments of people's lives. He wove stories that illustrated the complexities of the human condition and the transitions that resulted. He showed the beauty of the never ending cycles that move us back and forth between spirit and the physical. Most importantly, the stories reveal the intensity of the human spirit in its drive to understand life and to live it fully. Joy, epiphany, beauty, and tragedy combine to show the uniqueness of each human and how that human reacts to life. In the garden outside the Akashic Temple Alimaka explains the fountain of youth and the paths we choose in finding our joy. Through these stories we can walk in the shoes of a wide spectrum of personalities, any of which could be other faces of ourselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Feather
• Release date: Jul 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476111360

White Feather

Author of numerous books, White Feather has been writing stories and essays for a few decades and currently lives on the Great Plains of Turtle Island.

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Alimaka Stories

By White Feather

Copyright 2008, by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Cover Art Copyright 2008, by White Feather

Second Edition, Copyright 2012

Smashwords Edition, Copyright 2012

Gumroad Edition, Copyright 2015

This is a work of fiction.

A special thanks for technical help

From Frits Kaan and his violin.

Books by White Feather

Published by:

Lip Gravy Press

This is a copyrighted work. No part of this ebook may be copied, quoted, shared or distributed in any way without the express written permission of the author.

For Naia

*****

Remembering Alimaka

I have not seen Alimaka in a lifetime, but his memory is still there; etched into my being. We worked together in the Temple of Records for several years. Alimaka is the one who trained me in my duties there. Although he was a teacher, of sorts, to me, he always seemed so much younger than me in fact youth would be my choice of words to best describe his countenance. He was filled with the vibrancy of youth; always excited, animated, and curious beyond measure. I greatly value those years I was able to spend with him before he left the Temple of Records and took on a life in the physical realms--the place Alimaka dreaming of returning to.

I had just recently returned from a physical life when I accepted the assignment at the Temple of Records. I was delighted to work there and I was happy being on the spirit side of things. To be honest, I wish he would have stayed a little longer at the Temple, for I simply cannot get enough of his stories. Even now, I am remembering them all. After lunch each day we would spend some time together in his little garden which he had materialized on the Temple grounds. It was a beautiful place, but it was the beauty of his stories that I sought, and I found myself floating off to distant times and places. Sometimes it was hard to go back to work.

I remember the sunny hour we spent in that garden the day Alimaka told me that he was leaving and re-entering physicality. Even though going back to the physical world is just about all he talked about, I still managed to be surprised by the news. I knew it was inevitable, but I kept it shoved out of my consciousness.

*****

Alimaka's garden was much like Alimaka; vibrant and colorful. Flowers were always blooming and in every color and shade imaginable. In the center of the garden was a small pond, its calm water harboring goldfish and reflecting cascading willow branches and blue sky. The pond was fed by a beautiful fountain, which was in the form of three stone statues of small children playing. Water was spraying out from their eyes and ears and mouths and the palms of their hands. There was also water coming out of their navels and the bottoms of their feet. The statues sat upon a stone pedestal protruding out of the pond. The water spraying off the stone children created small rainbows as shafts of sunlight piercing through the tree canopy touched upon the water.

There were always birds singing in Alimaka's garden, and there were butterflies flitting about and there were even occasional bees. I remember always being bombarded with glorious smells. I could smell the earth, the water, the grass, the large stones placed about, and countless flower fragrances. It never seemed to smell the same twice. No where did Alimaka seem more comfortable and at home than in his garden.

Under a large flowering crabapple tree there was a small circular area that was paved with flagstones. On this area there were two stone benches that looked across the paved area towards the pond. Sitting on a round stone table between the benches and the pond was a small potted peach tree. The tree had been shaped in the bonsai tradition and was very small, but it was completely covered with blossoms. Alimaka always sat on the stone bench to my left and he would often be looking at the pond as he spoke.

The day he told me the news he was too agitated to sit, though. We were standing before the peach tree admiring the twisted branches of blossoms.

The peach tree is telling me that I am at the end of one cycle and at the beginning of a new one. Though I am flowering now, I will soon be in a birthing process. It is time for me to go back into the physical realms.

I turned my gaze from the peach tree to his face. All I could manage to say was, When?

Very soon, He gestured towards the tree, When the blossoms fall off and reveal the tiny beginnings of fruit. I did not tell you sooner because I did not want you to feel pressured in learning the Temple system, which, of course, you will take over the stewardship of. You will take over my position of guiding all the other workers. And, too, you will need to find someone to groom to take over your position when it is time for you to return to the physical.

I knew the day was coming for Alimaka had told of his plans since the beginning, yet I did not feel ready for it.

As though reading my thoughts, Alimaka replied, Oh, you are ready, my friend.

I certainly hope so.

"Picture a figure 8. You are traveling on that figure 8, going up and around, then down and around, back and forth, forever going around on the figure 8. Now, when you enter the top portion of the 8, you are entering the spirit side of things, which is where we are now. When you enter the bottom portion of the 8, you enter physicality and take on a life as a human for the duration of the trip around the bottom of the 8. Then when that trip is finished, you enter