Finding myself on the opposition side is not uncommon yet loving my adversaries is.
And what is love?
For me love is not fighting but respecting the other who has apparently a contentious nature based upon many different things, mostly concerns for their survival as they wish to be and have, essentially, always been.
At a time passing from life to whatever is or will be on the other side of the veil of life holds no fear for me since it is ordinary of life to end. And from experience not theory I know many endings have been beginnings of something wondrous as I have wandered thru life.
Not always better just different yet again seen through a child's wonder wandering aware finally that I've been taught the difference in job descriptions. Simplistic but it works for me. God implied at the Beginning of everything: conscious life and death; Don't judge the good or bad of experience, that's MY job. The in between is a wonder for we're told many things for instance the apple Jack ate saying hay! Eve this isn't an apple its a tomato and what's this about a snake? I play role play in my imagination all the time especially when in the company of people who bore me reciting my name and then smirking, laughing etc. as though they own me and I'm now part of their inventory: a thing not a person.
Mornings I live on coffee and cigarettes until my stomach rebels and says you're going to vomit; EAT SOMETHING! It follows that I could if I wished to and had more breathes left along the attendant heart beats I'd play with creating a myth or play or movie or novel . . . that said; poems like T. S. Eliot's are quicker and distillations of a heady life.
Returning to The Garden and along the long path leading from it; it seems to me somewhere along the way God said, "Vengeance is mine!" As judge jury and executioner God render's judgement at the end not the beginning or middle of life. If you have cared enough to read my writing, mostly conjecture and snark if not actual frustration with the oppositions to life, then you will know that I like God whoever and whatever God is is a friend. Everyone has one a self, consciousness or soul, yet few listen to it becoming ITs; objects in someone else's game of life. At going on seventy two I have finally begun to celebrate mine as friend, loveable and something akin to God who lets me know what's up doc!? Say something funny!
It is as though you're buying gasoline and a person carrying a gun on their belt walks in standing beside you wanting to purchase lottery tickets. You turn to her and ask about her unusually large gun not a revolver but one with an extended clip sticking out the bottom of it and ask anything about it. She states all the abilities of her weapon; how many rounds, what sighting laser like, knock you not over but at your size you'll flips in midair. 'Before crashing to the floor upside down inside-out dead meat.'
Modest frisson of terror curious as to what, why, how etc. does she have the authority to carry publicly a weapon of such power? To all other intents and purposes she's a civilian just another grandmother who is capable of loving or killing you, me, anyone or thing at whim.
Should God be so capricious we'd all be in big do do since we all do silly things now and then. No. God waits until the end to tender render judgement. Humble, small and silent as the child I once was accepting the trashing's of or from everyone with rare exception. I remembered those best, the exceptions of people with the power to blow me away and apart known better for their kindness.
I dedicate this to Jon LaVertu, R. N. who in leaving 'my' community for another remaining a friend who I hope will put me to sleep when I get, or am had, by Alzheimer's . . . I love my friends so. Pillow or plastic bag or injection I don't care: JUST DO IT! . . . pretty please with cherries on top and very hot fudge sauce.
To be on the same planet, in the same Universe, with such a treasure of a man is an honor worth knowing. We working separately have the same conclusions regarding those about to die. It is an honor to serve and be taught the value of life from the remains mere scuffed satchels abandoned the soul fled.
Be well & be aware that those you say goodbye to may never return; it's chaos out there.
120912 07:17 finding
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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