100121 05:38
We are all artist. Our masterpiece is the creation of our Self. To be known and loved for being our self is asking a bit much of life and others. Since it is apparent, the so few of, the many of us, love or ever really know and accept ourselves. We are in process and waste a great deal of our lives in jealousy and admiration of the lives of those who are esteemed historically.
Sadly it is the criminal who steals life, most often remembered, and in a perverse way celebrated. It is too easy to kill instead of love. An artist of death is feared and fear becomes our ideal polarity.
Yesterday I arrived at a nodal point in my life’s process; a place of choice between going forward or simply destroying not only what I write but what I am. But as an old man I’ve learned patience with myself and am willing to suffer pain. Since I know my end is inevitably near and each moment of life dear.
I am tempted to deconstruct the moments of consequence and the agents of my knowing God’s intervention and what now results in this moment celebrated. We sense, think, intuit or feel God as either an idea or real.
--R. Buckminster Fuller
“Faith is much better than belief. Belief is when someone else does the thinking.”
Love is the catalyst of life. As I wander through the museum of all Creation, including pre-history and the future, I am caught by those few who, as artist, annotate their lives that we better understand and appreciate ours. Artifacts can be worshiped but should become instead portals passed through and into what they tell us about ourselves. God is obviously the greatest artist, and my list of life’s artist surrounds God in a constellation of stars ever expanding. We all have a talent and genius but in general avoid responsibility for that. Instead we become addicted to things, activities, drugs or dances of avoidance proclaiming ourselves as Indian Chiefs, Bakers, Candle Stick Makers, Bankers or consumers. In a profound sense longing for the attention of others to affirm our value and right to live and be loved when we love not ourselves.
I have a vision/version of our collective future, either terminal or infinite, depending upon choices made by, or for, ourselves. I am not impressed by what you say you are but what you do. It is not for me to judge you since that is God’s role and you will know it in the end of your days. Since I love Jesus I wonder what I do on a daily basis to make love possible in an impossible world filled with fear, hatred and greed measuring everything in “Good, Better, Best” ways. Worse; I win, you lose.
Keep it simple stupid. Yes I will admit to my stupidity and longing for simple separation between Church and State. The secular should, in my opinion, always be separate from the sacred. My choice to participate or boycott either, or both, is my responsibility and belongs to no one else; not even God.
I will continue to advocate that you take responsibility for yourself; change what you can, accept what you cannot and discover the wisdom in yourself to accept the difference. Be the best You can be, in that choice you will soon discover that change is welcome and that what you give or take in life defines your faith. My prayers are inclusive and include my “enemies.”
--Helen Keller
"One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar."
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Seek the Truth in all things especially yourself
100120 05:02
This dawn I will greet with sadness and departure the life and beliefs I will now leave behind. Sincerely I accept and welcome even the most difficult dreams and do not resent being hurled from my sleep by them. I once thought it grand to sail forth from the safe harbor of my childhood to sail the world, mostly water. Now I anticipate sailing the far vaster stars above the ordinary of earthly life.
The peace within me is a conviction derived from my current awareness the dream compelling me from slumber; God is the ultimate servant hidden within all of us. The avoidance of this simple stunning reality has been costly beyond measure to me and I suspect all others.
As I write I am ever more conscious of attitudes of jealousy regarding the power of others to pursue and persecute me as well as all others they would make victims of . . . at the moment I am thinking of the Black population abandoned after Katrina and now Haiti . . . and I have a special empathy for the AIDS orphans of Africa . . . which in turn reminds me of the widows and orphans on both sides of the conflicts bleeding America dry financially, morally and ethically.
I mean no disrespect for the choices made by either side. And am happily no longer identified by face in association with what I now write. Since to be so is to invite assassination by self-righteous bigotry, punditry and bigotry--merely what has become our National sport of choice.
I am a journalist, not simply in the sense of annotating my feelings and thoughts here and on the Internet. But professionally. I mourn the passing of “Freedom of the Press” and the venues I once enjoyed working for . . . ‘kill the messengers’ is another world-wide sport. Least I digress into a political fulmination, I am reminded that few prophets of the Judeo-Christian tradition died in their sleep and in time all the apostles crucified. A great many have died to defend our national freedoms as have many individuals who also died to keep the dignity of being truly yourself available. That is my ambition and goal, to be your servant, or handmaiden to the birth of your real self, free from fear, self-loathing, tyranny and slavery.
“ 06:10
I will quote you no quotes since it seems I must either use my own words or transliterate into contemporary language something more accessible to our times. We become what we love or nearly so and equally become, essentially what we consume. Seek the truth in all things especially yourself.
This dawn I will greet with sadness and departure the life and beliefs I will now leave behind. Sincerely I accept and welcome even the most difficult dreams and do not resent being hurled from my sleep by them. I once thought it grand to sail forth from the safe harbor of my childhood to sail the world, mostly water. Now I anticipate sailing the far vaster stars above the ordinary of earthly life.
The peace within me is a conviction derived from my current awareness the dream compelling me from slumber; God is the ultimate servant hidden within all of us. The avoidance of this simple stunning reality has been costly beyond measure to me and I suspect all others.
As I write I am ever more conscious of attitudes of jealousy regarding the power of others to pursue and persecute me as well as all others they would make victims of . . . at the moment I am thinking of the Black population abandoned after Katrina and now Haiti . . . and I have a special empathy for the AIDS orphans of Africa . . . which in turn reminds me of the widows and orphans on both sides of the conflicts bleeding America dry financially, morally and ethically.
I mean no disrespect for the choices made by either side. And am happily no longer identified by face in association with what I now write. Since to be so is to invite assassination by self-righteous bigotry, punditry and bigotry--merely what has become our National sport of choice.
I am a journalist, not simply in the sense of annotating my feelings and thoughts here and on the Internet. But professionally. I mourn the passing of “Freedom of the Press” and the venues I once enjoyed working for . . . ‘kill the messengers’ is another world-wide sport. Least I digress into a political fulmination, I am reminded that few prophets of the Judeo-Christian tradition died in their sleep and in time all the apostles crucified. A great many have died to defend our national freedoms as have many individuals who also died to keep the dignity of being truly yourself available. That is my ambition and goal, to be your servant, or handmaiden to the birth of your real self, free from fear, self-loathing, tyranny and slavery.
“ 06:10
I will quote you no quotes since it seems I must either use my own words or transliterate into contemporary language something more accessible to our times. We become what we love or nearly so and equally become, essentially what we consume. Seek the truth in all things especially yourself.
Power is Love
100119 07:18
It is a very wonderful thing that God loves us as we are. I awoke from a dream regarding an important personal failure to achieve a long sought ideal. The recognition of which left me bereft and better described as being humiliated by my choices/behaviors. At issue was salvation. There were three principal characters: myself and two women--described better as two female spirits, souls or entities of importance to me. I am reminded that I am 49% female and have been prone to projecting that reality upon other women to my chagrin; only now recognized.
I remember Dunkirk in reference to my failure. I first read about the event in childhood and imagined God very busy with all the souls who died there. In truth I do so equally now regarding the Middle East and Haiti. And then too are the many genocides within my lifetime.
If I seem overly empathetic regarding others filtered through religious/spiritual contexts, I now accept that I have always been so. Yet in childhood, and until very recently, my preoccupation was impermissible since I gave all authority to others to tell me what God/All Truth/Everything was about. I was ripped, torn, spindled and mutilated by myself in conflict between an innate sense of God’s presence and the need of others to tell me otherwise. I know what it means to be ‘crazy’ and so terrified with anxiety that my life was put into a state of shutdown to survive.
If I have no fear of life, death or dying it is because in a virtual sense I have died so often to myself that death is no stranger--but then neither is the resurrection--now.
Regarding the failure experienced in my dream I have become conscious of several Biblical ‘heroes’ Noah chief among them. My failure was to take that final, step the one assuring me of salvation.
No longer paranoid I sense we are a people in flood tide of chaos and the narrow gate will only accept one soul at a time. If our soul is a lamp there is no profit in sharing the fuel with others who fail to recognize their responsibility to enter. I no longer cringe acknowledging the darkness in others being so well acquainted with my own. I know God as kind, loving and all the things St. Paul described in 1 Corinthian’s 13. Yet in my dream I was a failure, fatally so. The Bible as an owners manual for life, and God as the best and greatest teacher/healer, is by-and-large, held in the hands of people who know about, but do not experience, God as actual. I base my discernment upon a simple standard; God is inclusive and we are exclusive to our own desires and intentions.
Jesus is my root in The Tree of Life. Though I do not think myself exclusively Christian, unwittingly and unwillingly, I have been moved by experience from the root to leaf fallen and recycled. No religion is my enemy since we all seek ascension through life and in death. No one asks to be born and the issue is what do we do in life; what values and meanings apply?
Of late I have taken time to reflect, in the ordinary of my daily life, upon what I have written, sometimes in a frenzy of passion regarding a dream or a resolved conflict. I often become bewildered by the vigor of my statements and attempt to see them with the eyes of others who may not be aware of “God” as anything other than someone/something they call when helpless. Heresy and sedition are issues that I am conscious the definitions of but they seldom factor in to the equation of what I publish or simply table for another day.
My sense and experience of God is very participatory and at the same time something I could be judged as being insane for admitting. I would argue in this case that what we acknowledge as “Power” is too often egos gone awry. It is not for me to decide or define your life but you must by your own lights examine and live it. If Jesus died for us, can I die for you? What is the meaning of life or death?
--R. Buckminster Fuller
“Faith is much better than belief. Belief is when someone else does the thinking.”
It is a very wonderful thing that God loves us as we are. I awoke from a dream regarding an important personal failure to achieve a long sought ideal. The recognition of which left me bereft and better described as being humiliated by my choices/behaviors. At issue was salvation. There were three principal characters: myself and two women--described better as two female spirits, souls or entities of importance to me. I am reminded that I am 49% female and have been prone to projecting that reality upon other women to my chagrin; only now recognized.
I remember Dunkirk in reference to my failure. I first read about the event in childhood and imagined God very busy with all the souls who died there. In truth I do so equally now regarding the Middle East and Haiti. And then too are the many genocides within my lifetime.
If I seem overly empathetic regarding others filtered through religious/spiritual contexts, I now accept that I have always been so. Yet in childhood, and until very recently, my preoccupation was impermissible since I gave all authority to others to tell me what God/All Truth/Everything was about. I was ripped, torn, spindled and mutilated by myself in conflict between an innate sense of God’s presence and the need of others to tell me otherwise. I know what it means to be ‘crazy’ and so terrified with anxiety that my life was put into a state of shutdown to survive.
If I have no fear of life, death or dying it is because in a virtual sense I have died so often to myself that death is no stranger--but then neither is the resurrection--now.
Regarding the failure experienced in my dream I have become conscious of several Biblical ‘heroes’ Noah chief among them. My failure was to take that final, step the one assuring me of salvation.
No longer paranoid I sense we are a people in flood tide of chaos and the narrow gate will only accept one soul at a time. If our soul is a lamp there is no profit in sharing the fuel with others who fail to recognize their responsibility to enter. I no longer cringe acknowledging the darkness in others being so well acquainted with my own. I know God as kind, loving and all the things St. Paul described in 1 Corinthian’s 13. Yet in my dream I was a failure, fatally so. The Bible as an owners manual for life, and God as the best and greatest teacher/healer, is by-and-large, held in the hands of people who know about, but do not experience, God as actual. I base my discernment upon a simple standard; God is inclusive and we are exclusive to our own desires and intentions.
Jesus is my root in The Tree of Life. Though I do not think myself exclusively Christian, unwittingly and unwillingly, I have been moved by experience from the root to leaf fallen and recycled. No religion is my enemy since we all seek ascension through life and in death. No one asks to be born and the issue is what do we do in life; what values and meanings apply?
Of late I have taken time to reflect, in the ordinary of my daily life, upon what I have written, sometimes in a frenzy of passion regarding a dream or a resolved conflict. I often become bewildered by the vigor of my statements and attempt to see them with the eyes of others who may not be aware of “God” as anything other than someone/something they call when helpless. Heresy and sedition are issues that I am conscious the definitions of but they seldom factor in to the equation of what I publish or simply table for another day.
My sense and experience of God is very participatory and at the same time something I could be judged as being insane for admitting. I would argue in this case that what we acknowledge as “Power” is too often egos gone awry. It is not for me to decide or define your life but you must by your own lights examine and live it. If Jesus died for us, can I die for you? What is the meaning of life or death?
--R. Buckminster Fuller
“Faith is much better than belief. Belief is when someone else does the thinking.”
Heaven being torn apart.!?
100118 06:09
I have a vision of Heaven being torn apart. Oddly it was the size of an average roadside billboard which had never been cleaned of all the preceding promises torn from it. For me it was as though I had seen the soul of my daughter raped and then rend limb from limb and I helpless to intervene. This is an image that has been forming in my vision/version of life and its value and directions for a very long time.
Slowly I have come to accept that I gave up my ambition to be something better than I was and remain to serve my son in his final years, then days and terminal hour. His sister’s death preceded Randy’s by years and I bore complicity for leaving her to die in custodial care feeling a rage and agony for that, unspeakable choice, especially with their mother.
I divorced her many years ago yet there is no divorce in my heart. I had to divorce from myself the child I was who knew love as dysfunctional--being addicted to that--what I now call co-dependence.
Many of the images, metaphors and omens are being wiped from my consciousness as I write. Justifiably so since they are history and this is now; reality versus ideals.
If we become what we love then I become something like God. Who as Parent is dispassionate and loves with ferocity stunning to behold . . . what some call, and or imply to be, ‘fear’, I call joy.
To me the reality of God is best expressed as a landlord who is unable to tend the flocks and vineyards we inhabit. It is our responsibility to be good stewards of not only the land and lives created but of ourselves as well. If we don’t do it who will and when?
I am fiercely political and theological yet refuse to debate my issues with others knowing I will lose my self in the process of attempting to compete with their perceptions or constructs of long standing traditions expressed as power. Historically everyone, and thing, is destroyed for being inconvenient to the authorities. I am especially conscious of the songs sung by the mountains around me by the natives who lived here long before me. Now desecrated and largely expunged . . . in a sense I long to join them since they knew God better than I. Issues of lineage and DNA are irrelevant to the soul and its vocations and or amusements.
I was once considered to be a ‘good’ photographer with a promising future. These estimates were welcome but pale compared to the joy I knew in my experience of being one at that time. Yet I fell blind to myself at the advent of my son’s demise. And here I am conscious of the indignities he suffered as well as those being suffered by the poor of the world now. We are not expendable feral dogs licking the masters hands who send us a crumb of attention, or off to fight their obscene wars. My point is simply that I never failed as witness and now sense my silence the brew of what writes now.
I seek no celebrity or profit from what I do in expectation of demise now, or tomorrow or later on by any means or measure. Given that, I do celebrate every moment including the normal depredations of age; the pain of an unusually cold winter, the stiffness of arthritis, et cetera, et al, since they remind me that I am alive and fully so.
I think it not odd to conclude leadership best seeks to replace itself with succession despite all the stories used to entertain we the victims of our civilization and culture. If I would serve you it is my intention that you take responsibility for your sense of what is worthy of love and nurture. If we do not then there will be no future and no witness save God.
All life is holy to me.
I have a vision of Heaven being torn apart. Oddly it was the size of an average roadside billboard which had never been cleaned of all the preceding promises torn from it. For me it was as though I had seen the soul of my daughter raped and then rend limb from limb and I helpless to intervene. This is an image that has been forming in my vision/version of life and its value and directions for a very long time.
Slowly I have come to accept that I gave up my ambition to be something better than I was and remain to serve my son in his final years, then days and terminal hour. His sister’s death preceded Randy’s by years and I bore complicity for leaving her to die in custodial care feeling a rage and agony for that, unspeakable choice, especially with their mother.
I divorced her many years ago yet there is no divorce in my heart. I had to divorce from myself the child I was who knew love as dysfunctional--being addicted to that--what I now call co-dependence.
Many of the images, metaphors and omens are being wiped from my consciousness as I write. Justifiably so since they are history and this is now; reality versus ideals.
If we become what we love then I become something like God. Who as Parent is dispassionate and loves with ferocity stunning to behold . . . what some call, and or imply to be, ‘fear’, I call joy.
To me the reality of God is best expressed as a landlord who is unable to tend the flocks and vineyards we inhabit. It is our responsibility to be good stewards of not only the land and lives created but of ourselves as well. If we don’t do it who will and when?
I am fiercely political and theological yet refuse to debate my issues with others knowing I will lose my self in the process of attempting to compete with their perceptions or constructs of long standing traditions expressed as power. Historically everyone, and thing, is destroyed for being inconvenient to the authorities. I am especially conscious of the songs sung by the mountains around me by the natives who lived here long before me. Now desecrated and largely expunged . . . in a sense I long to join them since they knew God better than I. Issues of lineage and DNA are irrelevant to the soul and its vocations and or amusements.
I was once considered to be a ‘good’ photographer with a promising future. These estimates were welcome but pale compared to the joy I knew in my experience of being one at that time. Yet I fell blind to myself at the advent of my son’s demise. And here I am conscious of the indignities he suffered as well as those being suffered by the poor of the world now. We are not expendable feral dogs licking the masters hands who send us a crumb of attention, or off to fight their obscene wars. My point is simply that I never failed as witness and now sense my silence the brew of what writes now.
I seek no celebrity or profit from what I do in expectation of demise now, or tomorrow or later on by any means or measure. Given that, I do celebrate every moment including the normal depredations of age; the pain of an unusually cold winter, the stiffness of arthritis, et cetera, et al, since they remind me that I am alive and fully so.
I think it not odd to conclude leadership best seeks to replace itself with succession despite all the stories used to entertain we the victims of our civilization and culture. If I would serve you it is my intention that you take responsibility for your sense of what is worthy of love and nurture. If we do not then there will be no future and no witness save God.
All life is holy to me.
"There is no way to peace peace is the way" --Thich Nhat Hanh
100117 05:53
Obvious to me is that I do not prize my life, I was taught not to. Yet for you, dear reader, I would go to any length that you love yourself. You, to me, are holy, and never intended to fail life as created unique, precious, specific and explicit in you.
The subtext in this is the question-postulation poised by Jesus: “Love your enemy . . . “ At first hearing I was overwhelmed by their number and I reacted with fear and rage wanting to destroy not only them but myself in violence. I gave to them the privilege of choice, the time, place and ground, the issues and intentions theirs not mine. it appears I’ve backed into a foundation of knowing myself as worthy of love and existence no longer self-loathing or confused by “YOU” messages. I now sense that few would attempt the folly now since I no longer cringe and blink but evaluate their need, greed and intention in telling me what they are fearful of in themselves.
In my estimate fear is the primary dysfunction, and waste the greatest evil of all mankind. Power at its greatest example--God--empowers and destroys nothing.
In a certain sense I see us in the Garden of Eden making a dung heap of it. We are killing ourselves wholesale with numbers increasing daily and soon to be defeated by our own vanity.
Despite the many sorrows and agonies, my life has been good and getting better, yet I recognize that what I leave behind has little to offer the generations to follow and they will bear the sin/waste of my choice in this time.
The “powers” in this world have a poverty of moral and ethical values that would destroy everything in greed to assure continuance of the status quo: we win, you lose.
"There is no way to peace peace is the way" --Thich Nhat Hanh
Between the ideal and real is the difference between making peace with yourself. To love yourself begins with acceptance, the forgiveness of all who for whatever reason mislead you, and then to forgive yourself for accepting it as justice.
. . . after thought 100121: Of the greatest and most wealthy in any field of endeavor I have know extreme poverty in them and myself.
Obvious to me is that I do not prize my life, I was taught not to. Yet for you, dear reader, I would go to any length that you love yourself. You, to me, are holy, and never intended to fail life as created unique, precious, specific and explicit in you.
The subtext in this is the question-postulation poised by Jesus: “Love your enemy . . . “ At first hearing I was overwhelmed by their number and I reacted with fear and rage wanting to destroy not only them but myself in violence. I gave to them the privilege of choice, the time, place and ground, the issues and intentions theirs not mine. it appears I’ve backed into a foundation of knowing myself as worthy of love and existence no longer self-loathing or confused by “YOU” messages. I now sense that few would attempt the folly now since I no longer cringe and blink but evaluate their need, greed and intention in telling me what they are fearful of in themselves.
In my estimate fear is the primary dysfunction, and waste the greatest evil of all mankind. Power at its greatest example--God--empowers and destroys nothing.
In a certain sense I see us in the Garden of Eden making a dung heap of it. We are killing ourselves wholesale with numbers increasing daily and soon to be defeated by our own vanity.
Despite the many sorrows and agonies, my life has been good and getting better, yet I recognize that what I leave behind has little to offer the generations to follow and they will bear the sin/waste of my choice in this time.
The “powers” in this world have a poverty of moral and ethical values that would destroy everything in greed to assure continuance of the status quo: we win, you lose.
"There is no way to peace peace is the way" --Thich Nhat Hanh
Between the ideal and real is the difference between making peace with yourself. To love yourself begins with acceptance, the forgiveness of all who for whatever reason mislead you, and then to forgive yourself for accepting it as justice.
. . . after thought 100121: Of the greatest and most wealthy in any field of endeavor I have know extreme poverty in them and myself.
Omnivorous consciousness . . .
100116 07:39
Our consciousness is omnivorous, and once unfettered from the clutter of noise, it is able to parse and triage importance from irrelevance. Dreams, and other resources, suggest elements of our lives significant requesting attention.
This morning the events in Haiti crossed the screen of my attention. Immediately I recalled my sense that my son’s behavior demanded attention. He had previously simply sat down on the floor and then arose at the age of four years-of-age. This event happened at least once in my experience and the second time he looked at me and said, “Daddy I can’t get up.”
The sequence of events from that moment on remain sharply etched in my memory, and my intuition that he would die became apparent and tragically correct. Having had a lifetime of rationalizations attempting to process the events of peril preemptively incorrectly presuming myself the cause I now know the difference between what I can heal and what I cannot. My thinking at the moment leads me to the “Serenity Prayer”, my theme song.
Among the many furnishings of my mind lost, abandoned, or destroyed is St. Francis’s “Make me an instrument of thy peace . . . “ I used to have it framed and now remember it left behind during my flight from Illinois and presumed lost. Yet I remember the spirit and gist of it, in some sense, now using my own words inspired to ‘modernize’ it for this time, culture and failing civilization.
Isolation from others is impossible and ignorance of one’s self is inexcusable.
I am a solitary who failed at all my attempts to be “normal”; married, with family and a future. Each loss defined what I now sense as being self-derived and centered. Retroactively I consider the meaning, value and implications of many different constructs generally defined as political or theological and none seem adequate to the task of living these days in sanity. To me they now seems a rehearsal of “should’s and ought's” costumed as ‘wisdom’ derived from another time, addressed to other persons in tribes isolated from one another.
Intrinsically we have the power to heal ourselves of many tragedies, diseases and difficulties so long as we no longer presume that someone, or God, will do it for us. For me it is definition of what is mine and what belongs to creation and make choices based upon responsibility instead of reaction. I think of tithes in reverse; ten percent is physics and ninety percent is choice. Regarding economics and ecology there is an apparent imbalance, an injustice justified by lies promulgated by the power to take lives and use them to selfish ends. I do not believe, or experience, God as being anything like that. Absolute power is given to no one else yet our power, if directed to giving instead of taking, is an ability to heal turning others from fear and waste to peace and productivity.
Our consciousness is omnivorous, and once unfettered from the clutter of noise, it is able to parse and triage importance from irrelevance. Dreams, and other resources, suggest elements of our lives significant requesting attention.
This morning the events in Haiti crossed the screen of my attention. Immediately I recalled my sense that my son’s behavior demanded attention. He had previously simply sat down on the floor and then arose at the age of four years-of-age. This event happened at least once in my experience and the second time he looked at me and said, “Daddy I can’t get up.”
The sequence of events from that moment on remain sharply etched in my memory, and my intuition that he would die became apparent and tragically correct. Having had a lifetime of rationalizations attempting to process the events of peril preemptively incorrectly presuming myself the cause I now know the difference between what I can heal and what I cannot. My thinking at the moment leads me to the “Serenity Prayer”, my theme song.
Among the many furnishings of my mind lost, abandoned, or destroyed is St. Francis’s “Make me an instrument of thy peace . . . “ I used to have it framed and now remember it left behind during my flight from Illinois and presumed lost. Yet I remember the spirit and gist of it, in some sense, now using my own words inspired to ‘modernize’ it for this time, culture and failing civilization.
Isolation from others is impossible and ignorance of one’s self is inexcusable.
I am a solitary who failed at all my attempts to be “normal”; married, with family and a future. Each loss defined what I now sense as being self-derived and centered. Retroactively I consider the meaning, value and implications of many different constructs generally defined as political or theological and none seem adequate to the task of living these days in sanity. To me they now seems a rehearsal of “should’s and ought's” costumed as ‘wisdom’ derived from another time, addressed to other persons in tribes isolated from one another.
Intrinsically we have the power to heal ourselves of many tragedies, diseases and difficulties so long as we no longer presume that someone, or God, will do it for us. For me it is definition of what is mine and what belongs to creation and make choices based upon responsibility instead of reaction. I think of tithes in reverse; ten percent is physics and ninety percent is choice. Regarding economics and ecology there is an apparent imbalance, an injustice justified by lies promulgated by the power to take lives and use them to selfish ends. I do not believe, or experience, God as being anything like that. Absolute power is given to no one else yet our power, if directed to giving instead of taking, is an ability to heal turning others from fear and waste to peace and productivity.
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