It’s three weeks since I posted.
~ So, have you been on vacation?
There is a rumor out that there are great changes about. About what?, you may ask. “I can’t tell you” I answer, I probably couldn’t (tell you) even if I knew, and “I don’t really know”.
So, I spend (lately) my time wisely. I sort. I throw. I give away things to good will or to the assistance league to assist in their good will. It is my will, my free will, even if I don’t believe I’m dieing.
Almost nobody believes that they are dieing. Almost everyone thinks that they will go on, will live, forever. People cling to stuff, to worldly riches like they can and will take it with them, or will lay it up (or down) in some earthly tomb – a remembrance from me or thee to you or thee from me. It’s not really like that of course. People die, people quickly forget. There is no great storage locker or shed at the gates of eternity, nor at the gates of the cemetery that first lets you in (although, to every rule there IS an exception).
There is a theory (of life) that each person will first die a thousand deaths, before the final ONE. Each “death” of course brings a new beginning, a chance to start anew, an opportunity to sink new roots into a deeper earth, a better one or at least one not so shallow.
There is a theory of the planet, of this good green earth, not unlike the theory of greenhouse warming. It is the hollow earth theory, not to be confused with the hallowed earth theory about the perceived benefits of civil war. I tend more (myself) toward the “shallow” earth theory, the flip side being the quest for deeper meaning.
In the shallow earth theory, the theory is that most people tend to live a life that verges on the superficial. They are (I am) gullible of course. Such people follow fads, are easily coerced into a search for easy riches. A sum-zero game is taught, my loss, your gain, my gain your pain.
Beyond a bit for food, energy, necessary clothing and basic shelter the only ingredient left out of life is the necessity of a happiness or two, or too. This IS the clincher, the quagmire, the quicksands of the desert and the maelstrom of the ocean. “Happiness” is left undefined.
I have a neighbor whose idea of happiness seems to be centered on owning a $50,000 BMW, or buying his wife diamonds mounted in a ring. Or maybe his happiness is rooted more in being noticed (I noticed), or sending notice to those to whom he’s sued. He “noticed” my wife in this very way. It may have made him happy, my wife was NOT happy. Now he lives next door, but no apology was ever given. Until then, we will probably not forget.
I like to think that to apologize can make one happy. I do regret each pain I’ve caused. I like to think that with each passing day I will leave less pain in my wake, caused (often inadvertently) by the waves I make (not deliberately, but just in passing). In this, my pleasures are simple, or at least are simply put. True happiness is rooted in the spirit of life, in spirituality (perhaps), in the faith-based belief that there is a greater good and that reaching toward that good is really what we are all here for (beyond the shallowness and pettiness that marks so much of each in our daily lives).
We surround ourselves with reminders of past battles that should (best) be forgotten. There IS no hallowed ground, no riches gained that were worth the price, no blood shed that would not have been better left unshed. If words matter talk is never cheap, the dialogue must always continue, there is always time, a rush to judgement need not ever be made. It may take a whole lifetime to sort out a single fact. There is time, as sure as there will be another tomorrow.
The answers that we seek are not to be found in those things that surround each of us today. Every”thing” is but a reflection of the world as it is, as it was; not as it could be or will be. The future belongs to those who will change and to those who might dare to be good by doing good and by eschewing everything else.
So the great sort continues. I sort out the things in my life while on a greater platter it is the lives of peoples and nations that are also sorted. This pile is to keep, that to throw; the one over there may be useful recycled, or with different owners, new directions, a better hope divorced from an unfulfilling past.
There are no political solutions. Our lives are in greater hands. No political laws will save you, protect you. No one life is ever guaranteed by any constitution, nor is it warranted that any group, family or clan will prevail. When so much is an illusion, why worry about the superficial things in life? There’s the trash to take out. And soon perhaps I will hear the robins sing.
1012.02.19 – 21:36.