For my friend Russell, the Runes kept saying to be still.
Over and over.
Russell would throw the Runes and the Runes would essentially say: shut up, stop moving, be still, subside.
These messages were (are) for a man with TV Tourette’s. An example: You’re sitting, watching TV, comfortable, relaxed — suddenly a shout from Ras! He’s incensed about a plot point.
Let’s say you’re watching a bad movie (Green Hornet) where a prominent man dies unexpectedly. A few days later a 15-foot bronze statue of the guy is unveiled at his funeral.
Russell’s all over it, barking: “What?! And you got that, where?! Was it just sitting in the garage?!”
Russell was given to pacing the floors at night, speaking aloud his thoughts, twisted up in an energy that wouldn’t keep still. I’ve seen this up close when visiting — the moving back and forth, the muttering (if that booming voice can be considered a mutter).
Subside, the Runes said.
Be still, the Runes said.
Just to demonstrate the inexplicable constancy of the Runes’ message, Russell threw them one night while I was visiting. Sure enough, eerily, the message was there:
Calm thyself. Be still.
Russell was asking incessantly about his next step. The answer was always the same. It was like rolling dice and getting the same numbers repeatedly.
It’s not that the Runes have a special power — it’s that Russell asked and sought a method for the answer to arrive — and the answer came.
Russell has listened to the Great Spirit speaking to him. He has quieted. His home is a spacious cathedral to his silent power. It’s a small home, yet the most spacious of any I know.
He is still much of the time when there, reading, occasionally having a smoke in the corner, contemplating. The frenetic drive to move back and forth like a dog on a wire whispered away and in its place there is a steady calm.
He listened — eventually — to the message he was hearing. I think that is all we are asked at times, to be still and listen. And then pay heed to the message coming through, whatever the source.