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It’s Saturday as I write this and I’m sitting in Tomkins Park in Calgary, Alberta listening to a band called the Wine Soaked Preachers. They’re local and very good.

The Wine Soaked Preachers

I have a note pad and a pen with me and I’m thinking about a post I read this morning by Inner angels and enemies where the writer asked some very thought-provoking questions.

My Favourite question was, “If you had access to one return trip in a time machine, how would you use it?”

Today, in long-hand, I will attempt to answer this question as if I’m really going back in time.

I step into the time machine having made my destination choice…

…I appear on a road that leads to a lake, a lake that is so big it seems like a sea.

A lone man sits by the lake. Is he meditating, thinking?

I watch him from a distance and wonder if he knows I’m there.

I have so many questions for him, so many things I want to ask him, but I know by the size of the crowd that has slowly been gathering around him, I might only get the chance to ask one.

I can’t quite hear what he is saying so I move a bit closer. I’m standing on the outer edge of the crowd that has started growing exponentially larger by the second. So much so, that people are pressing against him.

He stands and speaks to a man who nods and leads him to a boat that is anchored close to shore.

The once lone man steps into the boat and continues speaking in a language I’ve never heard but for some reason I now understand.

He’s saying something about farming and planting seeds – but I know his story has a deeper meaning.

My mind drifts back to why I’m here… I need to pick a question…there are so many flashing through my mind. How can I pick just one? As each question passes through my mind, I dismiss it as not worthy enough, not important enough.

“I tell you the truth…” His voice draws me out of my thoughtsthere are many who have wished that they could see what you’re seeing and hear what you’re hearing right now.”

I look around; the crowd has become overwhelmingly and unbearably huge.



is he looking at me?

No, he can’t be.

Yes! He’s looking right at me.

His eyes are both intensely severe and soft. His jaw line is hard and yet he exudes… he’s spilling over with kindness and love.

The crowd suddenly blocks my view of him completely. I realize now that I won’t be able to ask him even one question.

Just behind me to my left, there’s a large rock and I head toward it and sit down.

The sun is low in the sky.

I sigh – a deep sigh.

I did not get to ask a question.

But I’ve read so much about him and now I’ve even seen him – Wow!


And suddenly he’s there…

standing behind me.

His hand on my shoulder.

“What’s your question, Diana?”

Every question I have ever had seems strangely trivial now.

I’m just so happy…

no I’m ecstatic to be here in his company.

He walks around and sits beside me. I look at him. There’s nothing about his appearance that sets him apart.

I mean he’s not excessively good-looking or anything, but he is so beautiful to me.

I tentatively lay my head on his shoulder, a tear rolls down my cheek and together we watch the sun as it dips below the horizon.

It would be so amazing if you decide to choose a question and write your answer in a post.

Check out Connecting with Questions and let your imagination go.

I can’t wait to read it!