Tonight. The night. I wait no more. Born from a bad day–from start to, well, not to finish, but to now. Rapid writing I liked–computer style. And did I write–like a tornado ripping through a town–capturing every thought before it reverted back to the energy from whence it came, racing against my own thoughts, which makes something about them separate from me. With split second timing, simultaneously from all corners, each one vying for attention–and getting it–desperate to beat the drum of the plan before it beat me. Challenged by one’s self–which defies handicap–paved the path of least resistance for me.
I loved it, craved it, ate it, slept it, talked it, with it, to it, it to me, wildly glassing clear bright eyes till the shine of enlightenment followed the conclusion, right around the corner of the next neural connection, right on the money, always–no matter what the denomination. Religion? in my mind’s ear did I hear you inquire? Naw, something better than that. God. God damn. God bless. You’re it. I’m it. We’re all It–in it, whatever the mess or hellhole–foxhole–together.
Can the mundane be beautiful? If you make it so.
When to start. Where. How. Under what conditions? When? Now. A thousand beginnings it took over an undefinable span of time to begin again. Countless words–even for those whose job it is to count them–thoughts, dots, seeds, strung, connected, separated, dropped, spread, shouted, buried, rationed, woven, subverted–unintentionally intentional, following the instructions of a God created through a covenant based on trust and trust alone: trust in the security transformed by it’s consistency into confidence, that neither It nor I would ever ask the other to violate, or to compromise the foundation upon which all life and non-life flourishes while fulfilling its existence.
That foundation exists in the absence of prejudice, discrimination, enslavement, torture and slaughter. If ever I should receive an instruction which supports and promotes any one of those five flaws I am to know that that instruction did not come from my God and I am instructed to disregard it. And vice versa. That’s the trust I requested and that’s the assurance I received. In turn, the same request was made of me.
Without doubt there have bee times, when pressed, pressured, and provoked, that I thought, and It thought, that nothing but a flaw to cure a flaw would work–like the vaccination containing the contaminant germs in small doses protects one from contracting the disease–but in the end, we both knew that in order to achieve harmony in the long term, committing an atrocity to cure an atrocity was destined to fail, precisely because it leads one in circles, to repeat the mistakes of the past. And if you live in the past you are destined to repeat it. Germs don’t possess memories that create feelings of vengeance. People do–all people, not simply those with the power to exercise it.
Circle strategies fail to lead one down the path of progress, because they’re designed to follow thus copy. So, if you engage in either, you cannot lead. History shows us glaring examples of leaders not leading. Today, tonight, we fight the same battles of yesteryear, because we didn’t veer from that which cuts in the short term, only to regrow from the seeds of hatred planted by the cut. We didn’t get it right, in the past, and we never will, until we stop exacting vengeance.
One might think to focus on the positives, such as love, charity, hope, etcetera, etcetera, and one is all too free–and encouraged–to do just that, but in doing only that–as prophets throughout the ages unfortunately pursued–one fails to effect the changes one passionately strove for and sacrificed wildly and all too profoundly to end at yet another beginning. And so it goes. Or so I thought, until dots visible somehow to the blind eye of trust–not connivance or collusion–scanned without intent mind you, least not mine, the underbelly of that which exists to guarantee failure at every turn, precisely because we focus on that which we yearn to see, yearn to be, hoping in all of our yearnful glory that wanting would indeed create the direct causal link between that which we are and that which we strive–at least in theory–to be. And the path to that desire–that security–existed in an historical perspective that persuaded us that violence worked, because we are all still here.
Well…not nearly all of us, and the more you look at life with an eye focused on reality, the more you can’t help but see how so very many of us no longer exist and the killing continues: from our supermarkets, to recreation, population control, to simply annihilating anything that strikes our fancy on any given day of any given year–to make money, to gain prestige, to simply do it because it has always been done and ‘we never will find peace’, because we really don’t like peace.
We like excitement–and peace somehow conjures up a state of boredom, which many more than anyone know, died in that effort, either their’s or somebody else’s, to alleviate. I recall a man Van Harp saying how exhilarated he felt when the towers in New York city blew up right in front of his eyes. That’s the sickness that keeps warring people warring, that keeps people killing anything it’s legal to kill, and if not legal, then illegal, or pass a law in the middle of the night, bury in a thousand pages that nobody will read and make it legal. I wondered why everybody–but mostly all the important people of the world–were watching T.V. that morning instead of working. These must have been the kids who grew up watching cartoons on Saturday morning instead of helping with the chores.
Disappointment. I see it everywhere. A world of utter and total chaos where signs of the world ending no longer appear as a delusional message scrawled on a poster by a skinny, and by most standards, delusional messenger. Reality hurts. No one wants to die. Not now.
I write, God writes, my God writes–so as not to offend those who fear mistaking my God for their’s or vice versa. Everybody wants a solution, a viable solution, one they can lay claim to creating to secure their next pay check, raise, promotion or new and improved home, status and job. With every new beginning a new approach emerged. And we all do have them. But with every solution came a demand with an ultimatum attached. And the ultimatum, like the fire and brimstone that follows every inspired message in any holy book becomes everybody’s deal breaker, the part no one can accept, so the best laid plans always end up at another beginning, because we don’t know how to keep our big yaps shut long enough to allow a response to a kind overture. We might all just get along, instead of needing to win, if we could let go of the fire and brimstone.
When you need to win, you need to be superior, and superiority breeds conflict. Freedom never wins when bought through suffering, thus the new beginnings become essential to survival, even when we’re identified as free. You say something meaningful then follow it with a threat. We all really do understand the state of perpetual beginnings. And perhaps we’ve become addicted to them, stuck in the pattern, the cycle that keeps us all warring. But with that comes the inevitable endings. It’s the endings we can’t tolerate. Thus we need to start another war. And the first spark comes not through an act, but a word. Our greatest fear, philosophically speaking, stems from our inability to reconcile the two. How can we achieve peace when emotionally we need war?
How can the world, the universe, the universes, and our own altered existence, beginning as our brain understands it, at physical birth and ending at physical death, be without end? The very nature of a beginning as we define it demands an end. And if the end stops here, then something lies beyond. Therein lies the hope and therein lies the mistaken, faulty philosophical logic undermining the world, leaving chaos where one finds it–as one simply allows for the passage of time without effort to effect whatever changes one sees, as the condition of the world requiring at any particular juncture of conflict, a solution.
Oh, changes do indeed occur without apparent effort, but as we all know, sweeping under the carpet or covering up that which we don’t want exposed or to confront, or simply waiting for time to fade the gravity of the matter, always comes back at a later time, when the matter, by isolating it, has grown disproportionately to the world cut off from it, putting the world in a position of impending chaos, by focusing on the positive and ignoring the negative.
It’s time to end the suffering we created. The suffering we don’t create, meaning all of life’s problems that humans don’t have a hand in causing, we gain strength from–striving to survive in a perfectly peaceful, cooperative world–together–all connected–all different–all alike–all equally worthy with various gifts–that the world collectively needs to promote the positives in life by curing the negatives–through vigilance and a plan.
If we can come together in natural catastrophes, then we can come together to avert war. A plan to do that is what we need and what we say we want.
A plan which eliminates prejudice, discrimination, enslavement, torture and slaughter–a large undertaking by anybody’s standards–but much more exhilarating than any blood thirsty warring groups, or individuals, who get their kicks from seeing others suffer, or from spectacular views of buildings exploding with people being crushed to death and blown apart inside, while those outside enjoy the feeling of exhilaration.
Cure the five flaws as one cures a sickness–and the beauty of the world we create–through the promotion of a world free of prejudice, discrimination, enslavement, torture and slaughter implemented by our own willful, conscious, directed effort to cure that which prohibits it–becomes a world inhabited by evolutionaries opposing and neuralizing the destructive forces, which impede peace and cooperation–not a world of revolutionaries.
A process of peace in evolutionary terms, designed to help not hurt, both short term and long term, must be the vision, the focus and the means to achieving a true and lasting peace.
Living in peace side by side, while everybody hurts inside is not peace. It’s hell. My focus, through my God is to find a cure for hell, not to seek an elusive heaven, while relegating hell to the space beneath the carpet, preferring to focus on that which, for the short term, creates the illusion of harmony. Creating violence out of sight is just that type of illusion–as we know by the feeling of unease that creeps just below the surface of our numbed consciences. For no one can be truly happy knowing in their hearts and minds that hell exists for someone else.
I need to integrate everything bad that’s happened to me into my total being. I won’t succeed otherwise, and neither will any of you. Make a fresh start, incorporating, integrating all the pain, all the suffering, rather than carrying it as a burden of excess–never to be used–baggage–or dragging it behind as a caboose that no longer serves a purpose. Oh, I’ll use what I can’t forget–as knowledge, as stepping stones out of hell, and as a map of the world’s underbelly–like a library of cataloged catastrophic chains of seeds needing to be extinguished–but before they turn to ash, require an airing and a solution–if only to integrate that which hurts, making the entire human experience more noteworthy.
If we block out the pain, we block out the joy. Yet it isn’t enough that we don’t forget. Not forgetting merely extends the suffering in absence of the catalyst that created it. We need not rectify either. Reparations make those who didn’t commit the crime suffer for those who did. We need a plan of action, a change in direction to make sure we lead, instead of follow in the footsteps that copy retaliation. Then we can forget as evolution weeds retaliation and reverse retaliation (‘getting them before they get you’) out of its portfolio of optional considerations.