Wounded in life, I seek to staunch the wounds of others . . . . --xoj

"Jack Spratt’s two centavo Guide to Redemption”
©2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

God's tapestry, all creation, my greatest value an attempt to live/love for: in gratitude, mercy, forgiveness, regardless of Age, Race, Creed, Gender, Gender Proclivities, or Generosity . . . seeking to make redemtion salvation & resurrection potential in all unique, precious, individual lives, human, plant, animal, world. . . .through words & images - Jack Spratt ... KISS

Monday, August 27, 2012


 At times I need reminding that not all share my sense of truths apparent. I live alone with the best companion and confident I will ever know in life; myself. Annie, my cat companion, helps in that she loves me regardless of my behavior, thoughts or dreams. It was for her that I aborted further medical attention returning home in agony, growing by the moment until, unbearable. At that I laugh thinking wouldn't it be wonderful for her to live off my corpse until someone noticed the stink saving her?

The dream I woke with is troubling in the extreme. Definitely not a nightmare but consideration of a complex symphony regarding economy, cause and effect, and what we face as the world population swells. 

Does the butterfly in Brazil moving its wings affect me? I think so for at some point yesterday I considered, briefly that the water we have, is all the water that will ever be. If I laugh about it saying that we're drinking pee recycled though a complex filter; mostly the agency of trees. And in Brazil the forest primeval are being harvested wholesale to make way for people to exercise many various and competing needs.

I have several personal concerns and regrets stemming from my childhood. The first is being false to myself in order that I survive the rigors of my parent's concerns I be able to function and thrive or merely survive in their absence. For the most part they parked me with my maternal grandmother and otherwise ignored me until I did or did not do something to provoke their attention; at which point the humiliation, pain, suffering was beyond mention here.

That is the past; remaining for me, a museum of experiences from which I derive a sense of our communal experience. The what & why. Concluding, in a humble way, how to fix that. Were it so simple to fix what took years to built. The issue of healing raises its head and there are no magic bullets; no wooden stake driven through heart of a dying corpse.

Seen in obverse/reverse the lessons learned are now obvious and good. An education superceding anything I could ever afford in University. What changed that? The choice to no longer be a victim.

M is an experienced and trained psychologist coupled with an extraordinary wisdom, vast beyond even my imagining; a colossus hugely larger than the Sphinx I call her . . . something she seems to take delight in my description of her. I mention this by way of preface to her illustration that all violations of a child's inherent intentions, exclusive of what or which family the child is given life, are rape. We as people individually should nor ought to be slaves to anyone or thing; yet we are.

Read closely the fine print finding the devil in the details for that status symbol you can't live without. Possibly I attempt to expiate being hung from the ceiling by my nose with either fish hooks or the fangs of a viper. For what? For using such time as remains of my life to more fully record my thoughts, inspirations and concerns. What I believe Steve Jobs meant when he said, "make a ding in the universe."

For long I stood immune from the chaos recorded via photography. When I taught it was not photography, still or motion, but the nature of perception; what I called then: 'seeing what you are looking at.'

Finding myself happily alone, save for Annie, my family dead or dead to me I adopt all others outside of my sphere of influence based upon the school of hard knocks. In which I believe I deserve a doctoral. Yet I know and have know many who deserve better than that. For what or why they confided in me, what I used to call confessional, sacred to me, their trust; I have impetus to continue this chronicle of personal evolution; nakedly transparent. 

In childhood my mind, consciousness or soul was like a mortar and pestle. The mortar being more a sieve, though which essential parts could pass leaving behind a body for them to molest. And this metaphor accurately describes my experience of witnessing life pass from the body of my beloved son; and all subsequent deaths since. I know not in this life were the soul goes after departing the package that carried it -- I think M knows better but won't tell me. Like God she allows me the grace of free will and finding a true direction/vocation; a what and why to live or die for.

We both, M&I 'preach' tolerance. And for myself alone, I intuit, I do not, never have, thought Islam an enemy but the other, which ever is cleanest hand, clasp in mine brothers spiritually. 

To close this discursive inspiration; what bubbled up top, this brew, were two words: Avarice & Usury which upon close examination explained much of the troubled dream to me.

These words, their definition, incarnation, use and abuse, were never discussed in my education. Yet define principal differences between cultures. But then, as I am too well aware, there are many significant gaps missing in the material presented in public schools.

Regarding education I no longer define myself by gender, education, or employment but being human and a citizen of the Universe; not one nation or another. The only bottled water I use is for my Lucky Bamboo, chlorine would kill it. Otherwise I filter tap water for drinking, etc.

Speaking of trees. Try thinking of yourself as the tree of knowledge becoming the tree of life; from one mustard seed many mustard trees can grow. Don't take life too seriously nor rush to the grave, no one gets out alive. As for bankers, I think they need to be restrained.

Be well, be excellent & be love

120827 00:53 dream
© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

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