Lotus Moon and the Tides of Change – by Wakingspirit.com ©

It was early June and James had one last assignment to hand in at college – if he fails the assignment they will not let him into his final year. All his classmates and other students were long gone. Making his way around the satellite campus in this small town was like being on an abandoned spaceship. Walking the hallways was spooky, listening to the echo of your footsteps amplified and bouncing off the concrete walls and metal lockers. If you could get inside James’s head it would have the same eerie feeling, like being lost in space and a sense of vulnerability like an alien monster would leap out from nowhere – he felt isolated and a long way from Mother Earth. He wanted to finish this assignment and move back home for the summer to the city and hang out with his local crowd.

James was just shy of turning 20-years-old. He wondered how his life unravelled so quickly over such a short time. He still felt a void in his heart, but he was over being remorseful and angry about losing his mom to cancer three years ago. He accepted his loss and found a good place to keep her memory alive and worshiped. And he came to terms with an eccentric dad – that was in the makings for over 14 years from the time when his dad and mom broke up. At that time James was 5-years-old.

Nala, his mom would say, your dad is not made for this world, he’s a mystic and it’s not his fault that he can’t handle material responsibilities - he needs to wander a different path. As a kid this made James think his dad was some kind of shaman – cool and mysterious. In reality this meant that Nala had sole responsibility for James’s material well being. Nala was at peace with the way things were…she understood and appreciated the eccentric nature of her ex and the fact that he still played an important role in James’s life.

She made sure there was no animosity or resentment in James’s diet growing up. She believed that nurturing a child on love and joy makes their heart and soul invincible to hate and consoles them when they suffer.  She once told James about a political prisoner locked in a dark and dank prison cell for 20 years but still found it in her heart to write spiritual uplifting poems about beauty - this story always stuck in his mind. Nala often said that a heart full of love can get you through all that life will throw your way - good and bad. Nala showered James with love and hoped it prepared him for the great unknown and every curve ball that life may toss his way, but she thought she’d be around much longer to help out.

A kid who was graciously pampered with his mom’s love and support now felt isolated and fear was his worst enemy.

It wasn’t fear of the unknown. Nala raised James to cherish and embrace the unknown…when James was between the ages 4 to 9-years-old they lived just off the fringe of mainstream life – raising crops, pigs, sheep and chickens on a small farm half an hour out of town. Even when they moved back downtown into a modest two bedroom house they still lived on the fridge of society in what the suburbanites saw as a sketchy neighbourhood – they were surrounded by rednecks, bikers, rooming house boarders, addicts, yuppies, artists and urban bohemians of all stripes. Every fourth or fifth backyard had an angry pit-bull that went into fits of rage when kids passed by playing games in the alleyways. In the summer, as a kid, James and his friends turned the alleyways into playgrounds. They’d pretended that the neighbours colourful sheets and clothing hanging from clothslines and flapping in the wind were banners of great tribes of nomads setting up camps in the Great Eastern Plains of Mongolia – James got this idea out of a National Geographic documentary. His mom fuelled their imaginations by turning aluminum pie plates into body armour for all the kids. And very often she’d put on a colourful silk robe and a crazy faux fur vest and hat and rush into the backyard pretending to be Genghis Khan out to destroy the kids’ camp.

James and his mom painted their house in Caribbean colours of bright pink, turquoise and yellow and kept a beautiful wild flower garden in the front yard. Their friend Sara brought them a very expensive and beautiful water fountain for the front yard. Nala put it in the back yard.

'Are you afraid it will get stolen,' asked Sara.

'Oh no, it’s so lavish and I love it,' replied Nala, 'but I’m afraid it would show up my neighbours and that would be inconsiderate and rude.'

She hammered up a bench from odd pieces of wood and placed it on the front yard with a sign saying, ‘Come sit…everyone’s welcome to our corner of the Earth’. And James and his mom would share special moments with both neighbours and strangers that took comfort sitting on the bench. Their house was the social hub of the community – every Thanksgiving holiday drew a big crowd breaking bread over a massive pot luck dinner followed by song and dance. James was accustomed to unusual perspectives, weird events and strange people – he embraced everyone and never felt uncomfortable in new and crazy situations. Nala would always quote her mother who was from Tanzania.

'Omwana taba womoi,' she would say to her friends, adding, ' it means that a child belongs not to one parent or home.'

Nala had many close friends in the neighbourhood and James had many parents.

In truth, he would at this moment love to drop everything and run away to the great unknown – falling down the rabbit hole into any kind of bizarre and absurd world. That was the problem…‘Running away’ symbolized his biggest fear…it was his fear of not being able to take the punches and just giving up. He feared that at his core he was a defeatist and a sloth…he wanted the rewards without the hard work, but there was more to it than this. He was convinced that his flight instinct was a dominating and inescapable part of his DNA – as much as he loved his dad he did not want to follow in his footsteps and lead a carefree or eccentric life…he did not want to escape the reality and rigors of a normal existence. This eccentric journey was beyond the road less traveled… it was off the charts and it appeared too haphazard and chaotic for James. The stronger and more fatalistic his view on the power of encoded genes, the deeper the pit he was digging for himself. And yet here he was enrolled in carpentry school, struggling with a hard course, trying to finish his last assignment and wishing desperately to pass his first year of college. It wasn’t a given yet that he’d be able to pull this off – what if he failed, then what? He envisioned a severed tether and himself as an astronaut helplessly slipping away from his spaceship – his only means of grounding himself swept away from under his feet. He was wise enough to recognize that he desperately needed grounding. James wondered whether it was possible to unshackle himself from a strange alchemy that was urging him to be wayward and oblivious to mainstream responsibilities, even reckless – suppressing his drive to work hard and pursue ordinary goals. There was an ominous power at work eroding his determination and swaying him to throw in the towel and follow the path of least resistance…to drift away aimlessly with no tether from anything solid to hold on to…precious anchors like family and friends.

James was working in the library – a book, a blue print and notepad laid out on a desk. He felt a strange urge, reached into his wallet and pulled out his mom’s old business card, ‘Nala Baraka, Home Care Specialist’ was written on it. James turned the card over, on the back of all his mom’s business cards were inscribed…

Old Believer \ Ōld bǝ-l ēvǝr\ n 1 : one who has been through a lot in their life and hasn’t lost hope 2 : one who doesn’t feel cynical and still feels connected to the world that we’re living in but is wise enough to know a thing or two about it 3 : OLD SOUL

Memories came pouring into his head. James you are an old believer and an old soul, his mom would always say. Back in the old country, she said, you would be seen as a visionary, you feel the heart beat of humanity more deeply than others, your heart is inseparable from your mind, your knowledge is firmly fasten to your morals, you have indispensible virtues to enrich the cosmic well being, you have so many gifts to bring to this world…you will give and spread much joy to many people…then she’d leap in the air and start singing the Three Dog Night song…

Joy to the world,

All the boys and girls,

Joy to fishes in the deep blue sea,

Joy to you and me.

And they both would break out singing and dancing. Brilliant sunshine would always full the room as they danced in circles and leaped around until they fell down in a heap together on the couch laughing and exhausted. 

The library was never this quiet. Mr. Brown, the carpentry teacher, came up to James and looked over his shoulder for a few moments. James was working on his assignment and oblivious to his surroundings…he had no idea Mr. Brown was hovering over him. Mr. Brown spoke gently trying not to surprise James, 'how’s the assignment going.' James leaped inside, but outwardly was able to appear calm.

'Oh alright,' James replied, 'it’s just taking longer than I planned.'

'Well, it’s all about good time management,' said Mr. Brown.

Mr. Brown got to know James very well over the academic year and was very fond of him.

'Listen up James,' said Mr. Brown, 'I think you need a break from the assignment…tomorrow is Saturday June 8th, it’s a new moon and it would be a good day to take out the kayaks in my garage…come out with me and have a relaxing day on the water.'

James heard a lot about Mr. Brown’s beautiful lake home. He agreed to go - he knew for the sake of his own sanity that a break from his work was much needed.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday morning. Preparing to get on the water, Mr. Brown insisted the James call him George. George’s wife had packed a few sandwiches for lunch and some apple cider. They got geared up and packed the kayaks. Squeezing into their cockpits they were off to circumnavigate an island – it would take about six hours.

As they left the dock they quickly aligned themselves and were paddling side by side. George reminded James that today was the day of the new moon.

'The dark moon,' James said.

'Yep,' said George, 'this moon is called the Lotus Moon by the Chinese…the sixth new moon of the calendar. The Lotus Moon signifies renewal, rejuvenation and hope, he said. I think it holds great significance for you James. The Lotus Moon reminds us to look deeply into ourselves and nurture the beauty and positivity in our hearts and souls.'

'Yeah, but I have very little hope or positivity inside me,' said James, he paused for a second and then he added, 'I think fate has given me nothing but crap to deal with. You know the saying "Good things to come to those who wait," -  well, I’ve been waiting too long.' James let out a sarcastic laugh...it came from a hurting place.

They paddled into a shallow bay, the water was clear and they could see the muddy bottom of the lakebed. Looking into the water James said, 'my soul is murky just like that muddy bottom.'

George smiled and said, 'stop paddling and let’s drift for a while.'

The water was calm and became clear.

'James, I believe that everyone’s hearts, souls, and minds are mired in mud or crap as you put it…I know that I am,' exclaimed George. 'To imply that we should be pure shinny perfect Beings filled with beauty and grace would be presumptuous and foolish. We come into this world and its messy from day one…seeing a struggling new born battle its way into the world is a wonderful sight, but it’s not pretty…new born babies are a mess, crying their lungs out, all covered in bruises and bodily fluids. No one is perfect…we strive for a state of perfection…we reach for beauty…we hold hope in a vessel that constantly leaks…we are a fragile assembly of flesh and bones…we do our best at becoming graceful beasts under the sun – but in the end we are mere beasts trying to walk with the Gods.'

'Come with me over to this inlet,' said George.

They paddled a little and stopped in a sheltered cove alive with water plants and all kinds of different insects skirting across the surface of the water. Fish were swimming and darting in and out of the algae and water weeds. Turtles were sunning on rock outcrops.

'See the water lily flowers starting to bloom over there,' said George, 'lilies are akin to lotus flowers…these lilies are rooted in mud, silt and slim - yet from these dark murky depths emerges a rare and beautiful flower. James, given your recent trials and tribulations I know you are worried about what you are rooted in…I know you question your own destiny and power to rise above the darkness and mire that you feels anchors you down. And fate can be cruel and dump a load of crap on you out of nowhere. Just like the Chinese philosophers, we should take a lesson from nature - from the lotus flower. The lotus flower symbolizes hope and perseverance…it assures us that we can rise above our roots no matter how dark and messy the soil bed and waters.  New beginnings are eternal, with ongoing opportunities to overcome our surroundings and pass from dark into light - we can improve on our shortcomings and overcome our misfortunes and ultimately we can take our suffering and turn it into splendour and grace.'

James started paddling a few strokes. He pointed to a big rock lodged in the muddy lakebed, covered in zebra mussels and slimy green algae and said, 'that’s symbolic of where I’m coming from, where I’m going and what’s anchoring me down – I’m a big ugly rock at the bottom of a lake going nowhere.'

James slapped his paddle blade on the water and added, 'a lotus flower is no metaphor for my life.'

'You shouldn’t hold yourself in such poor self-esteem,' said George.

'I’m just being realistic,' said James, 'everything I do is a washout, I tried to learn guitar and could never get good enough, I started sketching and painting and all kinds of other things I wanted to achieve, but I’m not good at any of them and I don’t have the motivation to change that. I have no natural talents…I’m not perfect at any damn thing…nothing comes easily to me and if I can’t get good at something right away I lose interest – I give up.'

'I know where you’re coming from,' said George. 'I used to think I was a loser because I could never achieve perfection…even as I learnt more or became a so called ‘expert’, perfection eluded me…then I woke up one day and understood that I was like a dog chasing its tail…I was chasing after some grandiose ideal of perfection that the outside world expected me to achieve. I was chasing an illusion of perfection that was mocked up and projected by a pretty twisted and out of whack world. I realized that I was confusing perfection with achievement – big difference."

' I also realized you should define achievements for yourself within the bounds of your own reality and what your heart tells you,' George put his hand on his heart..."Perfection is something all together different - you should  be content that perfection can only be held momentary in your state of mind. Greek thinkers said perfection is not an Earthly object or thing - it is a state of mind. If you are engrossed in watching an eagle flying or you are wind surfing and it totally engages every ounce of your mind it will elevate you beyond your physical world. The Greeks called this ecstasy which means stepping aside from yourself – you are totally absorbed in the moment and unburden by any mortal physical or mental interference. Whether it is triggered by watching a sunrise or soaring down a road on your bike, you need to treasure those special moments in life as precious gifts…too many people aren’t even aware and miss out on those moments that grace them because they are looking for perfection in all the wrong places and can't recognize it when it briefly appears on their radar.'

'More importantly,' George said, 'find true contentment in the ordinary efforts of an ordinary person trying to at times to be extraordinary…you can’t ask for anything more. Another thing I discovered is that no Earthly thing or action is perfect by anyone’s definition, and as long as we think we must be perfect we will be paddling around the shores of life endlessly with frustration and despair.'

James thought about this for a moment.

'Alright, what you’re saying,' James said,' is that although I’m anchored in a pile of dung - my dad and mom’s broken marriage and my mom’s untimely death to name two things – all this tribulation is fertilizer I’m rooted in that I can spring up from to greater heights in life…or at least to achieve beauty or grace.'

'From this dark abyss of a life where fate has been cruel to me,' James said, 'I have the chance to flower and reach my full potential.'

'You got it,' said George, 'it took me a long time to figure it out…when I was younger I really was miserable trying to achieve this illusive state of perfection. I think you and I are both realizing that beauty over perfection is a more worthy pursuit in our lives and it can be found in unexpected places. We’re way happier searching for beauty as a goal and following paths that fire our excitement…any time we are passionate about a pursuit…this is where we may step aside from ourselves and find grace and harmony – and ultimately excitement and contentment. Further, many great thinkers believe that perfection is impossible in our physical Universe - in fact perfection would be repugnant.'

'I my view, imperfection is an important means of evolution ensuring the survival of all life forms on Earth…once a thing is perfect it can’t survive this world. I always liked an observation Charles Darwin made – there were these cranes that over hundreds of years evolved the perfect neck length and unique large bills that could dredge the lagoon for frogs, minnows and bugs to eat… it was absolutely the best design…these cranes flourished above all the other creations living off the lagoon…perfectly suited to its environment, but one day the lagoon dried up…there was a major drought, all the other less than perfect birds flew away to find food elsewhere, but the perfectly designed cranes could not fly anymore because their bills became too heavy and the entire species perished.'

'And don’t forget,' George said, 'imperfection allows you to uniquely express yourself as an individual…if everyone could achieve perfection we’d be doomed to being homogenous Beings of conformity and we’d die of boredom.'

Over lunch on the island they were speechless as they ate and took in the beautiful panoramic view. After finishing a sandwich, James asked 'George, what made you become a carpenter?'

'My dad, granddad and generations going way back were all carpenters,' he replied.

'I had a hammer and saw in my hands at the age of five. And I was damn good at it. I was 13-years-old when my granddad exclaimed at a family gathering that I was the best house framer he’d ever seen. I was Speedy, Accurate and Proficient– "SAP," he said…thereafter he started calling me "little SAP". I guess I thought it was in the bloodline of my family tree – a little sap from the tree – it ran through my veins…who was I to venture off from the family destiny.'

'You know George,' James said, 'I saw your landscape paintings you donated for the college fund raising event…they’re amazing…as good as the Group of Seven artists, did you ever want to be a professional artist?'

George was taken aback by the astuteness of this young man. George thought that his side hobby went rather unnoticed by most of the faculty – if acknowledged at all, it was never taken seriously by them - the last thing he expected was for James to take note.

'Yeah, as a kid I won all kinds of drawing contest,' George said. 'Mom and Dad were proud of me but no one, including myself, went overboard about it…after all you can’t make a living selling paintings - this was the general mindset of the entire family. I guess I just went with the family view on how people can succeed or fail at carving out their lives – you had to be practical.'

'Come to think of it,' George said, 'my dad would always point out that Vincent Van Gough could never pay the bills and committed suicide. I really never questioned authority as a kid…I always felt my family was steering me in the right direction – I was a naturally gifted carpenter…on to success in that profession, it seemed like a natural fit.'

'Well, I have no natural talent for anything,' James said.

'That’s not true,' said George, 'you just don’t see it, but I must point out that you are a Jack of all trades…you’re not the best in any one of the streams in our carpentry program, but if I had to hire one person from your class-year to build my house – it would be you. Mike’s great at design and layout but he sucks at framing, John is a great framer, but he doesn’t pay enough attention to details to pull off an arched cathedral window, Ashley is great at joinery, but I wouldn’t let her plane the logs for my siding.'

'Do you see what I mean,' he said, 'James your talent to provide a normal level of craftsmanship across all these disciplines is an outstanding skill and achievement…yet you judge yourself in each stream by one of your peers that exceeds your skills – but only in that one area…stand back and look at the big picture…Man, you rock. You’re like those birds that can fly to different lagoons and survive.'

James had never seen it this way before, it put a whole new light on everything, not just his carpentry profession - he felt better about his other skills, he thought, I'm a pretty good guitar player after all. 

'It was my mom’s friend Kate who told me about the carpentry program,' confessed James feeling that George should know this.

'She thought I would be good at it and she told me that this two year program would give me a diploma that would open up all kinds of doors throughout life,' James continued saying. 'I think she thought it would be bad for me to be aimlessly wandering. Once I was in the program I wasn’t sure if I was doing it more to please her than out of my own interests or desires. At times I’m trying so hard to be what people expect of me.'

'We go through life projecting an image of ourselves as we try to build a reputation and make a mark,' George said. 'My Uncle Bob would always say that you got to earn people’s respect…you should be seen as a solid man and as a pillar in the community...all this is done by doing good deeds, being responsible and how honourably you conduct your daily affairs – Uncle Bob would say it can take a life time to build a solid reputation.'

'Sometimes I think,' said George, 'that instead of building an image of yourself it may be just as important to deconstruct the images others have of you. It could be as a kid you’re a great baseball player and everyone pushes you and expects you to make it to the big leagues, but inside your heart of hearts you have a greater passion for music...yet your baseball skills far exceed your music skills. It’s hard to embrace a passion for something you’re mediocre at over another activity that you excel at but are less passionate about. You’re young at this point in life and brainwashed and cheered on to the things you’re talented at, or pursuits that bring you riches and everyone is doing it in earnest and with good intent. But, if this is not your heart’s true calling how can you deconstruct this image they have of you, I wish more teenagers would have the nerve to strip themselves down to who they really are and what they really want and say, for example, hey I’m a musician or entrepreneur at heart… it doesn’t matter how good I am at it…that’s what I am at my core and I will always be original and my passion will be uniquely delivered with my brand of beauty. How can you not succeed – you will always carry out and create a gift of beauty if you’re content and passionate, and give it your all.'

After lunch they got back in their kayaks and set course for George’s house. They both were lost in thought as they paddle back to the house. Their only conversation would be to point out an eagle soaring above or a deer wading into the water or to comment on the increasing waves and winds and the puffy clouds moving across the blue sky. James had much to think about and it was all being crunched in his mind on their way back. As George’s dock appeared on the horizon James broke a long standing silence.

'I think that accepting imperfection in life will not only help me accept my own limitations, but curve my expectations of others and help me appreciate their limitations and see beauty in them in the least likely places,' James said. 'Maybe the Powers that Be’s handiwork is evident in the flaws of things and tattered objects that surround us…even people…imperfection is rooted in humble, modest and unconventional places and can be exquisite and leave us breathless and in awe – we just have to be open minded. I believe my mom saw the world this way…she saw beauty where others saw ugliness…she could value the vulnerability and incompleteness of people and things…she saw everything as works of art in progress…that’s why she loved helping old people…she treasured how time weathered everything…I guess that’s why she’d keep faded furniture around the house and broken statues on the fireplace mantel…she’d say worn and tattered objects have rich and wondrous histories, conjure up good feelings in us and only became more beautiful over time reminding us of the cycle of life and the mysterious flow of the Universe…and she’d sing a couple of lines from a Leonard Cohen song…

Ring the bells that can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in.'

'Your mom was a woman of great wisdom,' said George.

'Whenever I was being a know-it-all or a smart-aleck,' James said, 'my mom would say "Wisdom is like a baobab tree, it takes many people joined together to embrace it".'

They slipped back into a comfortable silence and paddled onward to George’s dock. They brought the kayaks to the garage and George drove James back to town. Later that evening George went down to the dock to pick up the rest of the kayak gear. The sun was setting. The white and yellow water lilies were glimmering around the shoreline. The power of the lotus flower, George thought. He was putting the paddles and lifejackets into in the storage box when he noticed a piece of paper on the ground by the dock. He picked it up. It was a business card. Wow, this belonged to James’s mom, he said out loud. George turned it over and read the inscription on the back…

Old Believer \ Ōld bǝ-l ēvǝr\ n 1 : one who has been through a lot in their life and hasn’t lost hope 2 : one who doesn’t feel cynical and still feels connected to the world that we’re living in but is wise enough to know a thing or two about it 3 : OLD SOUL

He began sobbing uncontrollably. At first he didn’t know why…maybe he was feeling sorry for James, but that wasn’t it. He realized he was feeling sorry for himself. He cried for a few more minutes, dried his eyes and went into the house to talk to his wife.

James finished his assignment two weeks later. He waited until the full moon - the day of the Flower Moon to hand it in. He felt a metamorphosis had taken place in his life and the full moon was in sync with his new bearings. And the water lilies were in full bloom. He felt good about everything. A week later he got his marks. He passed all his courses and was granted permission to continue to his second and last year of the carpentry program.

Around noon in early August, James came by the college office to drop off a letter. Everyone was out for lunch - the office was empty. A few minutes later Mr. Brown came into the office. He saw James and invited him into his office.

'I have a letter here for the Chair of the Program,' James said, 'can you give it to him.'

'Sure,' said George.

'I guess I should let you know I’m coming back this year,' said James.

'That’s great news,' said George, 'I’m so happy for you…I’ll give your letter to the Chair when he’s back from lunch.'

James was about to leave.

'Hey James,' said George, 'we’ll have to do another kayak trip in the fall.'

He pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to James, 'you’re mom’s business card dropped out at the dock,' he said.

George put James’s letter on Frank Parker’s desk - Frank was the Chair of the program. Later that afternoon Frank came by to see George.

'Hey George,' he said, 'I think you should read this letter from the Baraka kid – it’s pretty amazing.'

He put the letter on George’s desk and walked out. George opened the letter, it read:

Dear Mr. Parker, in June a mentor pointed out to me something special about the Lotus Moon…you know, the time of year when beautiful water lily flowers spring up from a muddy lakebed. It made me realize that I enrolled in carpentry because of the expectations I felt people had of me. And I believe I needed to make some kind of statement to the world and show I was making something of my life and not wasting my time – I was determine to prove to them all that I was not drifting aimlessly and I could rise above my challenges. But I came to realize I was pursuing carpentry for the wrong reason. I was doing it for everyone else…now I realize I want to do it for myself. I have potential to be a mighty good carpenter. I’ve come to a very important realization – more like a revelation - that it is in my heart to be a carpenter – a creative one at that. I didn’t have this feeling when I started the program and without this passion to spur me on I stumbled. I know I can rise above the muddy roots and waters of my pitfalls in life, I can find splendour in myself and in my dreams and I can achieve what I set out to do…and if it results in ordinary things, it will have my mark on it which makes it unique - what more can I ask for.

At another point in time, with a few years of life experiences under my belt, I intend to go to an Artist College to pursue my passion for writing…my friends think this is a crazy…they say most writers can’t make a living…how will you feed yourself. I have many passions beyond carpentry and writing…someone said I was a Jack of all trades…so as you can understand I have many pursuits to explore in life and countless doors to open where I want to make my mark. Just like I know I need to complete my carpentry diploma…I know that I need to delve into my other passions and undertake the rites of passage in all I do - if I don’t pursue these goals someday I’ll be an old man wondering and painfully regretting what I missed out on in life and kicking myself in the ass for not following my dreams. I promise you I will give the carpentry course all my passion this year and I will work hard to fulfill my dream to build many homes…I also appreciate that the lessons being learned here are teaching me how to build a good life…and it will be the foundation for many great adventures and achievements ahead.

Sincerely,

James

The next day George came into the Chair’s office.

'Hey, George, what can I do for you,' Frank said.

'Well,' said George, 'I wanted to return James’ letter…I’m glad he’s coming back this year – he’s a good influence on the other kids in the course and he will be a good carpenter.'

Frank saw another letter in George’s hand,

'What’s the other letter,' he said.

'Oh yes,' said George, 'well…I’m resigning, I’m giving up carpentry.'

'How the Hell will you make a living,' said Frank.

George lit up and smiled,

'I'm going to open up an art gallery downtown,' he said.

'The Lotus Moon,' I'm naming it.