A Tumultuous Reunion

 

                       A Tumultuous Reunion

                                  By Otrova Gomas

     A while back I had the opportunity to preside over a very peculiar reunion.  It is going to be difficult to explain what those that attended learned while there, that which was said, and the devastating effect that it had on me personally. I frankly admit that though this encounter was one that I dreaded from the very depth of my soul, at the same time, it was one that I realized was totally indispensible that it occur.

     This was no short reunion. It was not a friendly gathering either. Neither was it what I had expected it to be, a simple interchange of opinions. Instead, quite to the contrary, it turned into reproaches, insults, hysterical shouting by the younger participants, and even gross terminology on my part that I never dreamed that I would use. Our dialogue turned into uncivilized tirades.   Where we expected to clarify ideas and define motivating factors, we actually ended up in a state of tremendous confusion. When I tried to explain and convince, I found that I was actually forcing my ideas on beings that were incapable of understanding my viewpoint.   It hurts me as I look back and realize that instead of encouraging the peace that I had hoped for, we ended up more disturbed than ever.

     Just managing to bring us together had not been an easy task.  I had to use mind control to develop a positive attitude, spend time with a spiritual advisor, work with a friend who is a magician, and top it off with almost two months of hypnosis.

     This family reunion had been scheduled to meet at four in the afternoon, the specific time that I had been born.  It actually started a couple of hours later than that since three of the invited guests did not arrive at the arranged time. Wanting to be hospitable during this momentous occasion, I served the adults toasted, thin bread slices covered with mushrooms, cheese, other savory items and whisky.  I gave the boys cake, candy, and cold drinks.  I prepared a neutral atmosphere. White was the basic color. One solitary table in the middle of the room had a notebook, a pencil, and a glass of water in front of each of the five chairs that surrounded it. A buffet table along the wall had plates and was covered with my dear mother’s table cloth. I felt that it added a sentimental touch to the gathering which would activate family memories. 

     I was the first one there, and by six that evening all who had been invited had arrived.  My company included an intelligent eight-year-old boy who was gifted and mature for his age. He was organized and obviously pensive. Beside him was an adventurous, fun loving sixteen-year-old who enjoyed telling funny stories and who loved being in love. On the other end of the table sat the twenty-three-year old, studious, revolutionary.  He was afraid of nothing and had an insatiable thirst for social justice.  To his right sat a thirty-four-year old workaholic, lawyer who loved action, art, women, and good liquor.  As you would expect, we were all a little bit suspicious at the onset. Being the oldest and also the organizer, I felt a tremendous responsibility to act as the litigator for the group. Before I go any further, I want to establish that the climate among participants was not cold, neither was it laced with tension. You see, I had convened a reunion of myself from the different times of my life. The object of this encounter was not to reminisce about the past or to simply enjoy a few moments together. The reason we met was to harmonize all of the different positions that we had lived and the different people that we had been during our lifetime. The older ones of us conveyed what we had done to try to fulfill the hopes and plans that we had once had. In self-defense, we pointed out to the younger ones that those aspirations had only been foolish dreams based on lack of experience. The sad truth was that many of the things that had happened were outside the limits that we could control. At first the atmosphere was pleasant. We told family stories and joked for a while, but eventually accusations arose from the young people. Too many of their dreams had been unfulfilled. They chided us harshly for our ineptness, indiscretions and irreverence.

     We desperately tried to keep a worldwide perspective in our thinking. All of us reaffirmed that we held knowledge in high esteem. We each respected beauty and felt we had a vocation to be active and involved; however, we soon realized that we were, without doubt, very different from each other. We had different goals, objectives and abilities. Once in the middle of a heated discussion, we piled up photographs on the table.  As we referred to the pictures, the older ones of us criticized the younger ones for falling in love too easily and choosing girls that were not pretty enough or that lacked essential good qualities.  The youth, on the other hand, accused me of being insolent and not caring enough.

     A bitter fight broke out between the lawyer and the revolutionary. The revolutionary attacked the lawyer for being so unforgiving and for being more interested in physical pleasures than eternal truths. The lawyer counter-attacked unmercifully, crushing and making the revolutionaries’ military mind-set look ridiculous. He pointed out inconsistencies between his socialist ideas and the political party that he supported. He inferred that both were a waste of time. 

     Six hours later the tumultuous reunion came to a close. We unanimously decided to convene again in twenty years. Our hope was that a wiser, more objective person would lead us in the next meeting. Maybe he would have the ability to defuse those discrepancies that we were unable to settle.    When everything was over, the group went their separate ways. I was left all alone, but I sensed that a sixth person had been present all along. I think he was concealed behind the scenes quietly chuckling at our attempts to reconcile the past stages of our lives. 

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