“Even a soul submerged in sleep is hard at work and helps make something of the world.” — Heraclitus We live in a very crazy world, something that recent events have fully exposed. I hope that my fellow travelers can see for themselves just how insane things have gotten. It's actually been this way for awhile, but we have been too blinded by the needs of living to fully appreciate it. I lot of people nowadays, mainly young, but also the celebrated and the highly paid, are running around pretending that they have just woken up to reality, and not just any reality, the reality. They see themselves opposed to their elders who they feel are mainly asleep, and so they shout and scream and sometimes actually slobber, proclaiming that the rest of us need to wake up too. I sleep when I am tired and not a moment before. I often have problems sleeping and need assistance to fall asleep. I also have problems being awake most of the time, as does most of humanity, and these problems have been exacerbated by the fact that there is a lot of loud, unintelligent screaming and explosions going on all of the time. The problem is that most people aren't really asleep at all. (I'll give you a clue, if their eyes are open, they are probably awake.) This falling back into our self is a natural defense mechanism to keep from burning our eyeballs out from staring too long at the sun. And now along comes all these young whippersnappers in full force telling me, no, ordering me to take my sunglasses off and resume staring at the sun. By the time that we humans reach middle age and have raised our children, we have been made fully aware of our shortcomings, we have lost many close friends and loved ones, our skin is often reddened, wrinkled and burned by exposure to the sun, our souls have been thoroughly scourged by the cat-of-nine-tails of existence, and we bear a near infinity of scars of different sizes, an entire lifetime's worth, that we have become very adept at hiding from view of other while only the ones who bear similar scars know that they are there We enter into the processing stage of life. We mainly desire salve and salvation, unguents to apply to our still bleeding wounds. Some people see an old man enjoying a football game, a convivial bar patron telling jokes to his mates, or women gossiping over tea. In reality, it is all a search for meaning. We never truly escape from the knowledge of our own mortality, or the mortality of all that we hold dear. The mouth foaming screamers cry crocodile tears for the homeless, the criminals, and the drug addled, faux pity for those who have surrendered, but show little mercy for those who battled furiously against the merciless onslaught of time for the right to stand upright in their estimation of themselves. To pretend that we are without values is manifested ignorance. To pretend we have no convictions because we don't scream and draw attention to ourselves is the same. Our convictions have been tested by death knowledge and tempered in a Sun dance that will continue till we are lying in the shade of our own graves. It is a knowledge that tells us that it is just as important to stop our own wounds from bleeding out as it is to point out all the flaws of human existence. It is a knowledge that allows to see the goodness in all our gossiping and conniving friends and neighbors and that allows us to love others warts and all. The desire to judge others slowly vanishes the closer we get to the drain. I see a great crisis of faith coming. We have foolishly allowed those who don't believe in the mysteriousness of life to brainwash our young into thinking it is all a political manifestation. We have allowed these con artists to use the sham of a politically based religion as evidence to suppress the spiritual needs of the human race. We have had politics for thousands upon thousands of years, and the politicians ain't solved shit yet. And no, pretending that you are the salvation of the world, is the not the same as being a savior, especially when you cluck like rabid chickens, point scolding fingers, and shout out everyone's sins but your own. |
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