stillness

Arising or falling there is a stillness now. Freedom from superlative or preposition relative to nothing but freedom to be as I am. Surprisingly, the question arose, within: 'do fleas have fleas?'

Expanding from the events surrounding the Boston Marathon and the noise surrounding it. Invoking a certain hatred of broadcast journalism; as like a carnival freak show. Cacophony lending thoughts of “You Bet Your Life.” Taking the average Joe and selling him on the ideal of being hunted to death while paying his survivors a living wage. For the the edification and delectation of the bored, the specious, the vacuous of those with no life save for entertainment until they fall over dead themselves.

Day times spent in soapy mental enemas for the mindless.

Do I sound harshly judgmental? Of course I am, since I apply the same standards to myself. Remembering being there, doing that, as a vocation. Wondering, had I found myself legless, blind, or splattered against the nearest stranger would I have the mercy or grace to forgive? To recognize that the thought was sufficient proof of life that the loss would be inconsequential?

Adapt, improvise, prevail.

When in doubt; make it up.

Suck it up.

Deal, with it.

Not what you were, will be, but are.

Be Here Now

The stillness I experience is in darkness, bereft of the mirror maze I found myself in, then calling it life. Seeking to be seen as adequate or good enough to be allowed to live--not merely exist.

I sense myself being birthed. Altered from what I was to what I am. This is a daily, or near so, experience. Another day? No. The First Day.

06:08

Imagine yourself in an euthanasia clinic, awaiting your turn to die, being sucked hollow by commercial broadcast television (additionally I am thinking of NPR yesterday--eclipsing the world other than what happened in Boston, making myself ill the memory) then add the pontifical posturing and menace of the Police. Recalling the pontifical harrumphing blow fish checks of the wanna be king from Arizona expelling methane orally. Ah. Yes. McCain the only republican I once thought myself capable of voting for.

My point being that while all the nattering goes on about specific crimes nothing is said of the serial rape of the world, its inhabitants, the economy by the gangsters on Wall Street.

10:11

. . . and then the savage longing for revenge exorcised upon the perpetrators. Astonishing! An eye for an eye leaves the entire world blind.

Do I eulogize my self or the world broken?

As I, we, the world, were, no longer.

OMG just realized that I had forgotten what year it was!? Having served the demented and those with full blown Alzheimer's I wonder if I am not in the beginning phases? Possibly a “senior moment” but then equally or, more better yet, merely me writing from within that place I go when creative. Writ large or small upon the sand storm of time.

130421 01:12

Awoke sieving the desert of my mind seeking something magnificent. Then realizing I'd been equivocal about this post. Merely for my loathing of all things Mass Man: Crowds, Wars, Riots and the many times I found myself imperiled thereby. Recalling my vocation as called to 'the temple of truth' or so I called then newspapers and journalism; a knight errant.

Too aware the fabric of culture rent with avarice and indifference to the value of what happens to one happens to all.

And then there is my head-long plunge into an education attempting to train my sense, thinking and feeling near equal to my intuition. Discovering instinct fearless seeking the meaning of chaos. Turn, turn again, twist and shout I can find nothing but meaning everywhere I seek. Then the poverty of language to speak of it in any terms vernacular or all the other forms obvious to me.

Emergent within is a sense of stillness and silence odd to my assertions. True of all change it takes a while to integrate the truths self evident.

Therefor this may be folly to let go. A tearing of another sort of bread, sourdough, spread upon the vast waters of the Web.

I love people but distrust crowds.

130420 04:13 MDT stillness

© 2013 by Jack Spratt – All Rights Reserved