as we go on

By now, I'm sure you're hip to Survival Acres.  I've always been fond of John's way with words, perhaps its that weird, inexplicable ministry background infrequently referred to in his work.  John's opinion on the evolutionary phenomena of  information sharing is right on the money and insightful in that my enchantment with the web diminishes in parallel with the exponential rise of social networks, tech toys, apps and everything that is nothing less than sheep's ear tags for the identification of which herd belongs to which plantation and are they stupid enough yet, i.e.; finished fully, for the slaughterhouse?  I do hope authors don't mind my brevity, I've done this before in comment links, when I nutshell a sort of boost for their labor by saying John doesn't mince words or overlook a particular iconic angle in the current zeitgeist even when others will perceive it as just another part of the background noise, its like white noise now, hypnotic, where it is what-it-is and it has no impact on anything happening out there and a worsening impact on what is happening inside.  On a lengthy sabbatical in the Nevada desert, I lived not far from the drone nativity colony during which not a day passed I wasn't awakened by drones in training.  They whine.  Imagine a nightmarish Ellen Ripley-style drooling Alien, whining.  All these recent stories in the media about the sudden use of drones on American soil are paychecks being collected for clicking on the press releases in their email.  I was told by the locals in 2006, very nearly six years ago, in no uncertain terms, drones honed-in on a prison escapee inside an aqueduct which showed on the thermal sensor as a bright red line around the prisoner's seemingly hidden body. 

Lying is ubiquitous from birth.  We exit the womb into feeling-censored expression.  Take a typical day and see if you can intermingle with a varied mix of personalities, including yourself, and see how many lies you hear and how many you tell.  There is courtesy ... and then there is compassion.  Both are on the wane with compassion actually being the real basis for love and for friendship, as the two are one.  Then there is the disappointment one leaves themselves open to in showing the real self and finding whomever it is that you are interacting with won't go there and no matter how you try, there is no reciprocation.  Of course we know there is a way, but few dare to tread that path for long, however heroic.  The only saving grace I've ever found that works every time is Struggle On, life is about learning and if its truth you seek and truth you discover, it is a blessing regardless of the occasion.  Even then, you cannot fix another person, you can only understand.  With someone you are close to, understanding knows no limits unless you are being endangered which sounds a lot like the situation we are living through at this very moment in time, taking place up there under the stage lights of the main arena, the lame new world.  We read, we interpret, we read more, we see the illusion come to life, we actually see the catch pens under construction, there can be no doubt and yet, it just goes on, it drones and whines and eats itself only to come out the other end as worse than it went in.  Somehow, just when it appears the worst is upon us still we are able to reach for some rosy part of the day to lift us above the rabble into that sweet change where the air is fit to breathe and the soul is stirred.  Bholanath's Wildlife Center and 'hood pics of the animals and avian families do it for me.  So does Jimi Hendrix with Red House (over yonder).

It is extraordinarily rare to come across a person who is completely straight all the way regardless of  circumstance, situation, dialogue in any and all relationships.  We strive for this and too frequently fall short.  This is a facet of the human condition, but being of the human species doesn't require that we cannot learn from our animal teachers. 

Today I found a fallen Hawk, as magnificent a creature in death as in life, and carried him by his legs to a picturesque soft spot away from the road where his soul would enter the Animal Kingdom in natural peace. His lower backside was black charred, otherwise he was perfectly intact leading me to think perhaps he had some accident atop the phone pole, a favored place to hang while hunting.  I'm hearing this kind of electrical equipment has to be grounded, so I can't explain the nasty burn.  All that can be said about it is whatever happened, this true feathered monarch came in contact with something unnatural.  In other words, he bumped up against the anthropogenic system and it cost him as it always costs all who meet with bumps.  What is unusual and wildly prevalent are those who choose to participate in the entertainments, the circuses such as boxing, rodeos, Nascar, casinos and porn.  These things are different worlds of territorial testosterone gone to extremes enabled by the highest bidder.  This too is all another avenue of spectacular riches and occupies the fascinations of a huge part of the worshiping public with whom we interact making all that shared information gathered over the years absolutely worthless in changing the ways we are impacted in order to proceed through this journey.

The Internet has only pointed out in starker terms what has always been happening.  Before the web, sometimes we heard it might be happening, now we read it happens regularly as if each event, crime, scam, rip, enslavement, hustle is brand new, but it has always been the vicious writhing mass of tortured secrets and inhumanity compounded with greater heights of inhumanity that you see unfolding before you now.  It has no repair.  Beauty and contentment are where you find them.  You must take the steps to your own freedom.  As I have said, compassion is the magic key. But like all keys, sometimes it is lost and you have to figure out where you left it and how you could possibly find it again in these times.  Recently, I lost mine and got a case of serious trepidations racing back to the spot where I last remembered having it.  A woman I'd never met drove up behind me, shouting "I've got your keys!"  Sure enough, she'd even left a note at the spot. Keys, cards and ID were safe and as I took note of the excited children in her SUV (and obvious lookalike family members visiting for Christmas) the warm glow of gratitude enveloped me enough to hug her and leave the scene spiritually intact.   I felt like I could post again.  Breathe again.  Kiss the dogs and hug the Oaks, fall on my knees in prayer for the Hawk that his body rest in peace and his soul fly on.  That my friends I've never met are unknown multitudes of the ones already visiting, feeling just like us and deserving of whatever, small comfort we bring each other in these times of terror, joy, lies, loss of dignity and respect, humiliation, confusion, ecstasy, despair, etc., stepping away from extremes into our own personal freedom to speak what is on our mind and share what is in our hearts or simply dwell.

In truth, we can step out of the noise anytime, it isn't us, it holds not a scintilla of reality, so why be in it at all? It is not important to puff up ourselves with the Dangerous Life being offered through technology, the mob, sensationalistic media and titillating headlines and the people who believe it all and seemingly know no better, as if there is only one way to live, one way to love, one way to gain, if they know what it is to gain, seeing only the gain that morphs itself into loss, fully blank when it comes to deep wells of purity available everywhere yet invisible, but the life-giving source from which all must drink if it means anything to experience the years full of changes spent on Planet Earth.  Everything we learn about each other reinforces the observation that no one is immune without inflicting great damage to themselves.

Whatever 2012 has in store for our planet, since we have survived so much already only to arrive here at this time of witnessing, there is not much that could take it away.  And if there was something, some disaster, something tragic, have we not weathered these storms before and before that?  I have watched the sun rise dawn over the mast discovering my low little sloop sailing in a school of sharks off the southern coast of the Dominican Republic, I have lost power on a windless day over knife-craggy reefs breaking the sea surface and figured out how to bleed a diesel while rocking back and forth as the water slapped the beam.  I have held on for 6 hours to a T-Bar in a blizzard looking down at snowy treetops singing Calypso, Sparrow tunes actually, and walked on single train tracks above the surly canyons of British Columbia, stared down the barrel of a gun held by a hostile dealer and wrecked motorcycles on Riverside Drive at rush hour, leading me to think 2012 will be interesting if anything... May the New Year be the best ever for each person reading here.

If wishes grew on trees...

One Love