Eighty-Four Suns

What does it feel like to witness the arc of modern humanity—viewing this earthly spectacle—from analog to digital and every spectacular spectrum in between?

August 24, 1940—Margaret (Maggie) Richardson entered Earth's atmosphere via Christina Primrose Addison, the first granddaughter of Really Great Grandmother.

What has carried Maggie through the trials and tribulations of a pioneering life, hardships where I was there to bear witness, facing life together as one?

From early on, it was clearly understood that resilience and fortitude were the mind-frames to embrace, guiding one through the nooks and crannies of a materialized existence, navigating murky waters and dark alleys of the emerging human soul.

As she often said with a comforting smile, she is the originator of the 'daily embrace' after all—where each new day is a restart, a blank canvas for a trapped piece of soulful art, regardless of what lies within the fray of any particularly icky, grimy frame of an industrialized day.

Harsh winters and bitter cold forged iron and mineral into forbearance, creating deep wells flush with eternal gratitude mixed with copious amounts of fortitude—bubbling effervescently from the nooks and crannies of Maggie's enduring soul.

Naturally, it came to be that her personalized 'seity' led her to the "earth mother" scene—like an incarnation of a wise deity, a mother to those who had no one—her endless tears of empathy filling black holes in humanity's soul and soothing raging, savage beasts.

The protocol of talking to strangers and the enrichment from such encounters are testaments to a life flowing from within, awakening those who feel the vibrations of her energy and enlightened spin.

Maggie May has now been playing this phantasmagorical game for over eight decades, collecting eighty-four suns with many more to come, for she too, was mandated to follow the sun.

Shake the molecules, Maggie, like no one else can—from humble beginnings to a seminal historical figure, a reflection of ingrained humanity of the most rarefied air—an incarnate of an earthly deity who dared to care about others.

Indeed, the mysterious Maverick who came himself to see, on a pilgrimage in its own right, stated frankly: "I got the same vibe and felt her presence just like when meeting His Holiness the Dalai Lama"—a delightful, unsolicited review, to say the least.

Forever modest, she is also gracious, having traveled the world over and become privy to the emerging human condition and thus, everyone's games.

An astute observer of culture and society, she illuminates ideal suppositions at the forks in the road facing all humans, always pointing to the hard road—where there is less hope and more vision, exposing the evil of suffering to poignant light—a soulful release.

Perseverance proved to be a practical protocol to which she adheres—after years of self-administered education, a quasi-matriculation of actualization, she took the long road to a psychology degree—the script written in the stars by 'seity.'

The sublime Maggie May, instantiated as an earth mother on a fateful August day in 1940, was sent to battle by her neo clan's tutelary deities, mandated to create a sanctuary for the psychological care of the frazzled and downtrodden.

A meeting of minds where infinite energy flows to optimized resolutions—her sympathetic ear gives broken heartstrings a gentle tug, and with a wink and a nudge, she clears away the fear of facing deeply rooted sorrows of yesteryears.

No one can know when it is time to go, but true to form, Maggie lights the eternal flame of benevolence toward each other, embodying the model of a modern woman hailing from ancient traditions.

One fine day, she too, by the koi pond, will know that the next step is to return to flow—something she has always known.

The prodigious daughter of the Richardson clan—take your place, Maggie May, as the archetypal matriarch—Earth Mother of Kizuna Shrine—matriarch of the neo clans—genesis of Civilization Three.