You can please some of the people some of the time.
You can please all of the,…
Before I go on.
Know I am just an author gifted a pen.
But also know that I don’t write a word of it.
What do I mean?
I am not a scribe. I do not believe in god. I do not believe in no god. No, no, no. All I do is trust in the goodness of nature and the human being. And I do that by learning with a determined mind and a capable heart and soft touch, what trust is. And I examine the evolution of evolution. Because it so happens that was the gift I was given. To be utterly fascinated with that subject and to be utterly bored of the way we bankrupt ourselves of the wealth of who we actually are.
I mean that I know. I know so I do not write. I find the quietest place in the whole universe. And I sit there and I do not move. If you were to etch my face, you would see me move, wash dishes, walk on errands. But inside I do not move.
Not a bit. I don’t lift my hands and put on a mask. I do not strain. But I have this pen. And when I was a child I knew it was not mine. I wield it. But I am not in the way. There is no center.
Just an expansive heart, that sees the value of what I have been granted to look upon. Something that must become the new normal. It must, I mean how much bloodshed and pain can you justify now? How many generals can you pass off those fat checks to and justify the mad parcel of superstition that you call a budget?
How many more trillions do you justify spending on utterly wasting a human life to keep up a silly wall with the anguish of the most deadly mindless bullets ever manufactured in all of human history? And how long are we going to deplete our soils? Doing this utterly mindless form of agriculture? How long? Seriously. Would you poison your mother? Would you sap her blood? What kind of monster do you take yourself to be? And you grousle about gender values and none of you see it and if I say it will you crucify me?
No, you won’t. You won’t because I am not here to be a Martyr. I am here to end the Messiah bullshit. I am just a man with pen. You will end your mad complexes now. Come on. What does it profit you to make people into deities. Above and below others.
Come on! When you play a sport on a field…you are all on the same level. Where is our most basic good sportsmanship?! Perhaps we differ in terms of skill. But every single one has a skill. And if we could appreciate this we would appreciate the human being. And walk away from the churches and the pulpits and confront the need to recognize what we have been given. In nature and in our own nature.
That spirit can transform the entire planet.
And we heckle Mr Rodman for going to see Kim Jung Un. Okay, he is pained. Like the rest of humanity.
He has done stupid things. But so have I. I have not tortured and killed people. But we Americans bombed the hell out of their country over some ridiculous -ism. Then the hippies ran up and down and the tears of Lincoln, they came back. They came back.
Come on! We can do a hell of a lot better than this. You know I have driven across this beloved country and just looked out at it and thought ‘Damned man!”….”What have we done to these soils!?”
What! It is horrific and hardly anyone looks. And we fret about paper and bureaucracy and what he said and what she said. Anything but stop. Anything but really listen. Listening to a lot of reactionary noise and drowning out our finer sensitivities – that is not listening.
We made the body such a thing of projected guilt and pain. We can unmake it a thing of guilt too. You pee out of a penis or a vagina. But man those words are so dirty. What the hell? Come on! Do you see bears being ashamed of having a penis? No, but how we make it a problem! Sacred and profane blah blah blah! The profanity is to make it a thing of guilt. That’s the real profanity. Some people can’t even say the words “penis” and “vagina.”
Yet you would die if you couldn’t pee. Something that gives life and births it to boot, and we are insane in attacking it.
You also enjoy sexual pleasure there. And that’s something divine we have tried to make into a thing of filth. A rose blooms and we relish it. It’s the bouquet of heaven. And it’s a sexual organ. So what?! Deal with it.
But please do it with some reverence and irreverence for life. You cannot have one with the other. Reverence is part of irreverence and vice versa. That’s the nature of wisdom. When you seek it you find it involves great levity and laughter. And colossal relief. And always of misperceptions.
Children are curious so, if you are the parent, at the right time explain it in a loving non-perverted way. If you have the sensitivity to listen and not make shame your homestead.
And the screaming priests molesting children who wave the holy water in front of us, can’t you just take your robes off and be men? Put the holy books down. And become wholly accepting of who you are. Don’t preach. We don’t need your sermons. We need your humanity. This that I write is just an honest letter to the world, Make of it what you will. I just have that small courage to be honest and speak directly. Because I see this incredible light in man, and I treasure it.
How many more horrific wars do you want before you get it?
And how many more plants and people do you need to vilify before you will be satisfied?
You know man’s biggest fear? Woman. And you know woman’s biggest fear? Man.
That’s why we have feminism. And the perversion of our deeper needs. Our deeper nature is to honor each other. Man, Woman Child. Not to attack one another and shrivel in fear marrching after rights and ensuring more pain by pushing one another down rather than looking for what is authentic in another person so we can honor that value.
When you bring the wisdom of Pythagaros to the Earth you value the number 3. You value the man, the woman and the child. You value not some god in heaven or some color of skin to use as weapon of ego – be it defending the abuses or the victimhood of the past.
You value first and foremost those creative energies in the human being; our inner driven masculine, our reflective nurturing feminine and the creative child of those energies.
Do you have any inkling of the kind of glorious planet our grandchildren’s grandchildren could have? Or the one we actually have? If we stopped recklessly collecting crap. IF we could appreciate the creative spirit in us. Not some “holy” spiritual escape but just the grounded appreciation of life. Here and now. Beyond the madness of what god we might choose to dedicate our battle ships to. Be it a President or a warring toddler, if we can’t confront the poverty of our insecurity what gives?! All gods since the Dawn of time have been a projection of energetic potentials in the human being. Mount Olympus has many archetypes but all, on very close inspection, all archetypes are mirroring amplified qualities in the human being.
To confront that last paragraph with the entirety of your being is to undo violence on the planet because you have undone it at source.
If we could quit our pointless dumb dumb dumb shenanigans. And start to love the earth and each other with the kind of gravity and levity they truly inspire.
Someone who adores his garden….he can bring a heaven to earth. That gift was given to man. Every man. Every single one. And woman. And child. All the angels are the animals. So what if there are celestial angels. Let’s love what is before us? For the love of, well for the love of the human being. Not some god in heaven. Just do it for your mother or the man who is tired of life. Do it for them. But do it. Find a way. Inquire. Learn to stop.
How many more lies can you stomach? How much meanness can you justify? How many tortured Lincolns do you need to bring to this earth? Men of his ilk. How many? One more is too many. I tell you one single more is excessive. It stops now. The buck stops here. Right here. In your stillest place inside. It stops. For good. For all of time.
I am just a man. No more no less. I seek no approval. I wish no one any pain. In fact, the absolute opposite is true.
I’m a man who likes a good song and a laugh and a walk in the rain or the sun. I am just a man. But a man I am. I could and can massage anyone. I trained in that. I’d rather give a massage than pump iron. We even have our comic characters who rush around killing. Maybe we could have one who learns to touch the body in such a way as can handle the maturity of squeezing tired muscles. Is it such a bad thing? Would we need standing armies if we learned to touch one another in innumerable new ways? In ways that actively seek to find the bonds of our friendship rather than justify the madness of our bitter rivalry.
Can you post the spirit of that last sentence on the halls or our congresses and our YouTubes and our United Nations and European Parliaments and in the interstitial places between neighbors who war over a name of a dead shepherd or a rotten reading of a book some prophet wrote centuries ago?
Can we dig down inside and excavate a new story out of the pained silenced remnants of the old? Or might we start over. Not be reborn. But actually have the dignity to be born.
I only seek to see your heart bloom with a thousand budding roses under the cool-handed direction of the mind. Mine has. The mares of a deeper longing have brought me here. But I am not important.
What is important?
Ah, such a big heavy word. We must dispense with them. And yet, and yet, there is in you something so,…oh words cannot capture it. Not even remotely.
And yet this pen I wield it was given. It takes years of acclimatizing oneself to such a pen. I mean what do you do with something like that? When you see what it is. What it can do. And it can do nothing without love.
Nothing valuable or meaningful that is.But, with it, Oh with love!!!, a pen such as this, when wielded judiciously, with great sensitivity and quietness inside, it can describe very accurately the features of a new planet, it can birth and actually build a totally new civilization. A much happier one than we have manifested thus far. That is the kind of power of the pen in my hands.
If you can look into the eyes of the most menacing human on the face of the earth, as I have learned to do after much practice, you can see they have that infectious smile, that quality of laughter that can turn the tide on every infection of deception.
And because you see that you know.
You don’t get to that state of knowing, that space where all you see is the heart guided by a sound mind…you don’t get there by showing off.
You get there by repeatedly being vulnerable, by repeatedly being shamed, by repeatedly being a fool. But not an idiot. Just a fool.
And the wholly foolish fool he takes you through the doors of wisdom. Through so many doors you go. Vanity. Prde. Envy. Greed (that’s a very very very important door – it changes everything), Fear, Laziness, Gluttony, Covetousness, Gluttony.
i am not important. I do not seek to impress you. Life does. Life is important. Life flows through me. As it does you. Together we are immensely, immensely, immensely important.
When we are small. So small that we do not matter. We cannot be seen. Then, we find quiet.
And in that quiet something extraordinary is given.
We make great people into something special.
And when we do we demean ourselves. How dare you! And how dare you puff yourself up!
By the river of another space inside us, there is a quilt of dreams.
Oh how I would love to show you what I see. But then we rush to label. Blah blah blah
Labels. I use the 9 enneatypes. I use them all the time. And people are afraid they might be put in a box. Oh man!
What does it take to show them… they did that?
I am not important but there has hardly been a mind like mine since Pythagoras and Parmenides. I looked and saw some who had it.
Now you have to stop.
You have to.
Many people speak languages far far far better than I do. Or do math much better than I. Any number of things. They were not my greatest gifts. Though they only get better now in me. Because I stoop below the resistant reactionary mind and I let all that go – to listen.
No, I was given a pen. And an incredible love for human beings (you may try to deny it but its true for you too) and a love of nature (you may try to deny it but it’s true for you too). It’s true for you too because you have laughed at a kitten and you have smiled at a child. Or with one. So that potential lives in you.
I had to sit very quietly. So quietly.
Do I use this pen?
How do I use it?
Well, let me tell you the most important secret about words:
Before you write, you must have something to say. And I told you I have failed and failed and failed. I have. That is true. I have written so many words so that I might learn to speak.
You must die before you die to truly live.
You must find the most precious thing and give it away.
All of these things you must do before the hand that takes up the pen is revealed to be fully worthy of it.
The most precious thing is that we are human beings. We have outgrown the bed of pain that argues we born to die; no we are born to live.
What odd words he writes?
What great words he writes?
What is he trying to say?
How do you communicate to people who do not like to be put in boxes that they have put themselves in boxes; how the way you see pulls them out of all pained boxes?
All of them.
Well, it takes some quietness. It takes an ardent love. Oh a profound love. But much much more than love it takes that married to discrimination.
You know what madness is? Not speaking, when every breeze on earth implores you too. Fortunately, I am not mad. And nor are you.
For humanity to awaken, for you to awaken…you have to witness that there is evolution.
But, also, there is evolution of evolution. Perhaps one day I shall become known for this phrase.
But what a hollow epitaph if it isn’t brought to application. By all of us. There is no sane earthy reason why it shouldn’t be!
A man who lived to leave behind a phrase or some coins of change. That is not living.
To live is to marry love and discrimination. It is to stand up. To be counted; to encounter and to count those who you mirror back, and to fully estimate what is valuable in that mirror. This is in all. It’s not in some stupid man who we claim walked the earth. Who died for sins. Bullshit. It is in you. It is in all of us. You can argue to harbor all the hate and hidden callousness you wish.
Not a blind bit of difference will it make.
I mean we know Lincoln said: Buzzard’s guts man!
How many arguments do you feel are warranted to make in favor of more suffering? And you pick at your gods and goddesses and your holy books. But have you laughed with a rooster today? Have you paused in the moonlight of an evening and looked into the pain in you that defended yet another grievance!!
I went looking for extraordinary people. I found them. But I will not hear your lies. Not a moment longer. You are those people. I see beyond your vanity and your shallow interest. I see beyond all those masks and insubstantial excuses. Not because I want to get the better of or use my extremely powerful mind and heart to get the better of you.
And it is no more powerful nor less than yours. This is my point.
Darwin understood the evolution of nature. As a child I was fascinated with him. We watch sci-fi movies with their cute robots and we read sermons but Man! Woman! Child!…Do we bother to look at nature?
It is so rich. So full of life. I had to stop. To completely stop. Because I became utterly tired with the cleverness, with our dim and dumb excuses.
Utterly exhausted by it.
Because I bothered to look into the mind of nature, and preserve, above all, that sense of awe, that sense of great beauty and sensitivity, and that determination to see beyond my pain mechanism,….
I was granted the privilege of seeing what others missed.
He didn’t say this but I deduced it from what he said.
Birds do not fly
Fish do not swim
Viruses do not hijack
Birds are flown
Fish are swam
Viruses are hijacked
Now for wombat’s sake (I like wombats. I want them to be happy – screw gods they have gotten us into enough trouble unless we read them allegorically)!
Viruses are hijacked.
There is another intelligence at work.
People crash cars and burn out because that intelligence is trying to tell them something. That is: slow down.
Birds fly and sing because they are trying to tell us something! They are speaking to us of the joy in nature. They want, in every moment to show us the transcendent beauty and abundance of nature. It is sublime.
And we heckle and delay and fret. If you spend time with a rooster or a hen and you become very fond of them, and they of you (and I eat humanely grown meat periodically because to manage nature is to be wholistic not vengeful) you see just how sensitive their feathers are. You become aware of how each feather is like an antenna leading them places. Imparting understanding to their sensitive being.
And everything in creation is like that. From a rock to the cloud to the sunset to a beetle. And you don’t need a god to feel that sense of spaciousness. You can learn from stories. We tell stories to learn about the nature of nature.
The “evolution of evolution” is the phrase that will be linked to me. Darwin broke the first sound barrier with evolution.
Then you go to Lincoln and you see the sorrow in the man’s eyes. The weight of a warring nation on his shoulders.
Then you go to Einstein, David Bohm, Nikola Tesla, Claudio Naranjo, Robert A Johnson.
And when you distill these people on the prowl for evidence of meaning, you come, breathlessly to the evolution of evolution. The place my longing brought me. My longing to have something to say in the grove of beauty and pain. Something that might find our pain mechanism at its root and take it away.
There is no god in heaven. Zilch. There is no mad bitter aethiest. There is man. And woman. And their creative children.
And the problem we have made with Buddha and Jesus or some dictator with lots of women or movies stars with 1 hundred babies or healers is that we have forgotten, for the most part, what heals.
What heals is being thoroughly human. And like a rooster’s delicate feathers that you touch ever so gently when you touch them, you find there there is an incredible sensitivity in us. You. All of you. Not some of you. Not some dead relic in a church or museum.
You now have delicate feathers. You have resplendent gifts that are there to discern from. We have run around in circles not stopping. But I stopped. Completely stopped. I prioritized peace and quiet and joyful friends. Roosters included. To see the joy in nature and in human nature excavates it in ourselves. That is the gift a human being imparts. When you are quiet and you stop.
And pull out the gifts from the invisible backpack life gave you.
Love takes guts.
It can be hard to turn the other cheek. Oh man do we love our idols. We evade and don’t practice this deep secret – that when you relax, completely stop, you can go faster than than anything else in the entire universe.
All while smelling the flowers.
Viruses do not hijack. They are hijacked.
Here we are so busy. So inflated. And I live in a garden thanks to the kindness of friends and I make 45 dollars a week and I have gotten help from my mother. I’ve been in rooms where I negotiated for 50 million dollar investments and above. I have seen. I walked away from the money to learn how to spend vastly greater amounts: I did that by getting incredibly still. I got sick and I wanted to say something. I wanted to find my voice because all my life I have fished for it.
And I stopped. I really did. So I came to a place where a divine leisure lead me. Still I have friends that I laugh with about all kinds of silly things. But there is a part of my mind that grew utterly bored of pretenses. And by divine I do not mean some god in heaven. No. I mean firmly rooted into being human. I don’t even like the word. It’s become so loaded, so weighted. It just means to appreciate the stillness that has lost the will to fight. So that, a different earth may grow, bloom and thrive.
My friends, there is no renaissance or resurrection. There is only an ongoing perpetual naissance. Born of stopping the whirring wheels of reactive mind inwardly.
We think we are born and die. But we are born and if our parents are very attentive to their own self-care, not in a selfish or pious way, but in a normal way, we come to see in that atmosphere that we are born to be born anew every day – then death when it comes is not a sad event but a release – life, the incredible journey that it was, lived in the right spirit, has imparted all its gifts to us and we to it. How could we not be inestimably grateful? Where is a sad death then?! It has no possibility to feature. None whatsoever.
For wombat’s sake! Can’t we do that?! Common sense, that’s what logos in Greek means. Just you look at the end goal and you manage it from the end back. You say I will create a happy pig farm and you do. For the pigs. Doing it that way makes us enriched by their joy. And they by ours.
For wombat’s sake! It’s not hard. We can put a man on the moon and Neil Armstrong did walk on the moon. And before he did, he wondered what he should say, He made a joke with Buzz Aldrin that he should pretend to get taken out by a monster as he landed on the lunar surface. And when you pause, you look into it and you see that man is the only monster. Yet, even that is not true.
Pretending to be impressed by militaries and their hardware is not who we are. For what is the use in getting more efficient and effective in killing another or killing a germ!!!
It is utterly mindless and stupid.
The poet Carl Sandburg wrote:
“There is only one man in the world and his name is all men.”
And for wombat’s sake! For wombat’s sake! For wombat’s sake we run around like headless chickens. And we refuse to stop.
But if we did stop. If we stopped chasing money and power and accolades, a different way of living is granted one. We do not become lazy when we pause. We become lazy when we fret when we resist and attack. When we don’t stop.
I have no lawsuits, I’ll make some money like the rest of us, live well. All of that. You can too.
But because I stopped, I could look into the mind of nature and appreciate it. That is true wealth. That and being true to your gifts. And your deeper heart.
We do blossom. It happens when we stop. When we quit attacking and refuting and nurture the dry soils of our unnecessary misery with a laughing healed nature. Then the genius of nature, the sublime so depth of it – is revealed to us.
Viruses are strands in the web of life.
“This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.”
They are hijacked when we don’t think from the end. When we butcher our humanity with policies of wanton ruin. With attitudes and behaviors that defy our children their dignity. All because we do not stop and witness what lies behind the masks we blindly wear. We have elucidated what? Nothing, until this is seen, and it is not complicated to see, once you turn the eye to what is emergent.
AND IF YOU INVITE THE SHALLOWNESS OF BELIEVING THAT LAST PARAGRAPH IS POETIC LICENSE RIGHT THERE. DON’T. It is the greatest breakthrough in evolutionary biology since the science was established.
I don’t remember hardly when I watched a television set. I love good acting and theater and great stories. Naturally. But I feel I am drawn to art and creativity. And often the natural world is more entertaining than the sad stories our pained selves write.
There is a scientist in Africa, Allan Savory. Not since Parmenides, has a scientist of management of his ilk walked the Earth. He points out what we are doing. I mean he stands on a stage and gives a lecture and with great respect and humility he sees into what we are doing to the planet. Soundly and extremely accurately he says we do not have a climate crisis.
We have a management crisis.
Man is no fool. And yet he is a total fool if he does not listen to his inner comedian fool. And bring laughter and levity to his and others’ misguided pain.
You know if a woman is relaxed enough she can have a baby in the ocean surrounded by happy dolphins and it can be a joyous experience. Nature and seeing into the nature of nature is our real hospitality. That ends the need for hospitals.
Viruses don’t hijack.
They get hijacked.
Because man, acts like a fool and does not pause. Our pollution is the same thing. In Saudi Arabia they have filled their investment stocks with money by plundering oil from the earth and yet where is our maturity?!
Nothing is wasted in nature. Not a thing. But boy does man try to waste and boy does he violate the beauty of nature! Where is our deeper pride?!
All we have to do is think like Allan Savory’s Institute says to end the climate crisis. Because we do not have a climate crisis, we have a management crisis.
We aren’t thinking from the end back. We are hurtling in like mad cows to a slaughterhouse!
And our politicians and newscasters puff themselves and entertainers and billionaires puff themselves up. Why can’t they be ashamed? Why can’t we all be a little more ashamed?
I don’t mean that in a mean way. But an enlightened way.
I mean can we look at what we do.
When you understand what logos is, you get to see, that it is some incredible intelligence that reverberates throughout the universe!
It is quite extraordinary, no, it’s extraordinarily extraordinary. And we have been given the blessing to listen to that intelligence.
In ten years we would reverse every desert on earth without any strain. If we stopped. We could annihilate poverty. We could and can appreciate animals. And learn to listen to what is talking in another. To really see into and beyond their pained hearts.
And it doesn’t take time.
It takes far less money than you think.
Or better put: learn to think and see at such a depth that people chase after you to invest.
It takes a pure heart and trust.
What it takes is valuing the soil, the water of the sea, and the storm.
It demands of us to look into nature. And our own natures to pull out that magical sense that we are worthy of love. Not fake love. Real love. Not sacred love and profane love.
And all the new age gurus parrot on
Be here now
Blah blah blah
Witness. Just witness. Your curiosity, your gentleness, your forgiveness and forget impossible. Forget your saviors. Forget your self-deceptions. Lea s them and the gurus behind. Be the guru to yourself first and foremost.
Don’t deny your urges but don’t become slaves to them. Gift yourself that stunning grace.
Find out who you are. Because you matter. You count. You are worthy of love and you are not needy of being needed. You are necessary.
And if you could embrace an inkling of these truths I have written here today. Just an ordinary man who stopped and so someone attentive to the extraordinary you could learn something of evolution as it happens when we stop banging at the door of what does not liberate.
And if you really apply yourselves:
You could have an insight into the evolution of evolution. Beyond all attacking and defending and angry people who don’t stop.
Don’t you see you don’t end viruses by making a vaccine and a big roll out of operations. You do it by recognizing that viruses don’t hijack. They are hijacked. So you change profoundly how, you as the top predator manage nature.
And I haven’t even come to energy yet.
Be practical. And gentle on yourselves.
I am going to put this plumed pen down to incubate myself for a time. I pray you find space to do the same.
You can please all of the people all of the time.
All it takes is penetrating into the all seeing eye of nature.
The Ancient Greeks called it logos.
When you end deception within. You can see clearly.
You persist. Without pushing more than is gentle.
Then the ecstatic and calm baby comes out.
Such a measure of a being lives in every single one of you who reads these words. Without exception.
I am funeral igniting a funeral pyre. One that burns through all your pain. And I am planting a beacon of light in your heart. No. I am not. I am recognizing what is already there. No more. No less. That is all.
And you know what, that kind of love and wisdom. It is enough. No matter your flaws. That kind of love can brew up a whirlwind and that wind can take us home. To this utterly still, profoundly dynamic, contemplative, considered, content wholly restored place.
A place full of imperfection.
You can look at a toddler. Or a baby deer.
How easy it is for them to stumble.
But, I ask you to make me a promise, next time you stumble or another does…do your best, your very best in that imperfection.
And in return, I make you a promise, if you do that, with your whole heart, you will find that all our pain will disappear from this tremendous planet. And the endless luminous heavens all around can be celebrated for what they are.
And I haven’t even come to energy yet.
Be practical. And gentle on yourselves.
I am going to put this plumed pen down to incubate myself for a time. I pray you find space to do the same