boldly dreaming

Dream boldly for the commonweal of all life. None master, or slave, but all equal and well. In health our greatest wealth. Day and night my dreams grow bolder. Expansive and generous with imagining at times humorous/inspired, then too ecstatic, benign for each of us. As a virus of change for the better no longer victims of anyone or thing.

. . . what else are the heavens for / the heaven within / in all born and unborn / for nothing is lost in eternity . . . with a child’s laughter wakeful or sleeping I see this life and earth a petri dish one of many yet to be known; consciousness and love evolving in time; new stars across the void of darkness. Like dear sweet utterly mad with passionate compassion Vincent’s Starry Starry Night punctuated with cypress and spire spiking the chaos of what would dominate and enslave us.

The dreams of this old man leap yet finding the core of infancy knowing what happens to for and against one happens for and in all.

Possible.

Concatenate body mind and spirit. Be free to create the world of love. Fearlessly deny the one/several/many/herd who claim absolute monarchy. Resistance/descent is powerful in love.

. . . 02:58 . . . it is an ongoing process this “writing” or annotation of becoming a person. Somewhat more than mere subsistence; an unexamined existence. The steps to freedom are many and various as snow flakes falling in midsummer’s night defining ignorance; my greatest enemy, my own.

Since my first writing was a photography column, a certain alloted space to be filled between brasserie, tire and turkey advertisements, all equally fantastic in their power to distract &/or bury my thoughts: some, if not all, were absolute conjecture and mirth (possibly my greatest gift is an ability to laugh at myself) beyond which there is a passionate compassion for life. The family of man. The species of us.

If I have a talent. Perhaps it is to find the genius of others, individually, or collectively: as in all of us. Inherent in life seeking the light growing. Loving indiscriminately and following not one prophet but all seeking what they sought.

Unable to change anything save myself knowing the secrets kept keeping me in bondage I seek to expose and explode them inhabiting such as remains of my life and beyond. It follow that what I share within these words is, in large measure, inspired by dreams and fantastic phenomenon of awakening then at some point finding what Gideon sought through placing lambs wool outside his tent . . . a dialog? of course it is at least to me. Yet fain to suggest since it is my way, not The Way. One clue: today is Steve Job’s birthday and the lead quote http://en.wikiquote.org:

"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking. Don’t settle." - Steve Jobs 

. . . there are a host of others, from disparate sites, affirming my sense of dialog with a being vastly beyond my ability to otherwise describe. Hinted at in all the wisdom books/manuals for life.

I learn from my enemies; those who stand upon my feet glistening my forehead with their spittle - superciliousness . . . It may take long or short for me to find the gift within and forgiven their aggressive faux authority. . . .to kill one’s self or another is too easy; it takes greater courage to love and live.

. . . but then what did Jesus do!? And why?

Can I teach you nothing but to be real? That when the word man is used it implies all the species inclusive without boundary: race, creed, gender!

No. I will not bore nor lead you with my evidence since it would be filling this void with stuff; the column I wrote was roughly eighty lines; seldom  more or less. I was'nt’t paid by the word or pound but it was odd that I could drop my mind into that box . . . remembering now that this is noting but a collection of notes on a life in process: endless.

. . . 04:08
It is possible, not impossible, but difficult, and growing more so. To grow a soul, a self, mindful consciousness of a bedrock foundation upon which to be fully alive and love . . . but worthy of the effort. Read yourself. Abrasion is what makes suffering sharp, Jesus knew. The purpose is not death but growth. I’ve always wondered but now doubt not.

. . . be a good observant -- not Jew, Islam, Christian etc. -- but student of life finding a way to make love possible in our time. . . .& war no more.

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© 2013 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved