Tag Archives: choice

The Secret – my version of it

[thoughts from ~burning woman~ ]

I was watching the lower branches of some spruce trees waving slowly in the breeze rising from the River on the north side of Chilliwack mountain today as I worked at re-mulching terraces and pathways. It was dark, grey and cold and my feeling was of strangeness, of alienation. Once again being forcefully reminded how little of Earth desire I harbour in my heart. Once again having to face the fact that I am from another place, soon to return to it. For those who cannot understand that, it is what it is.

The most difficult task I ever set myself to tackling is understanding Earthians. I cannot. Even when I deliberately lost myself in the Earthian mythos, forcing myself to “be one of them!” – one of you – all I accomplished was losing myself in a swamp of perceptions that had little to do with me. I became unreal to myself, a creature of habits and knee-jerk reactions to everything. In time I seriously panicked. I would have ended it all through suicide if I’d been allowed to follow through but instead I reconnected with “my people” and what they had to say and to teach was in my heart language and I eventually re-discovered myself.

I’m still trying to understand Earthians and I’m still stymied and utterly bewildered, even though I know why the people are the way they are; why they do the things they do. I call it programming because it’s the term that fits best – and also because I know it’s programming but on a level that Earthians are forbidden to access.

Jumping around a bit here: the greatest gift the Teachers gave me was expanded awareness. They gave me a greater history of this universe than I could ever find in Earthian records, or would have ever received from any Earth teacher. You can’t write or teach what you can’t know and as long as the programming is active in someone’s mind, ‘truth’ will remain subjective and subject to change without notice. Never, however, can any ‘truth seeker’ be permitted to explore outside the boundaries set by the programming. Think invisible dog fence. The dog wears a collar that will hurt it if it gets too close to the fence even though it cannot see the fence or know of its existence. That’s the reality of living withing the confines of Earth’s Matrix.

I am certainly old enough now to seriously think about my journey home and the calling has made itself felt stronger lately. One of the reasons is obvious to me. It will be forty years ago on Good Friday, that I had my intervention, a physical healing and a mind opening that set my life on a totally different tangent. April 19, 1979, at approximately 3 in the afternoon. It was another dark grey, cold and cloudy day, perhaps chosen on purpose to demonstrate that light can come from within. Perhaps also because this time of equinox is particularly powerful for renewal.

Forty years of studying, experimenting with, testing and practicing the Teaching in a state of expanding awareness has certainly made me look at man’s world in ways quite alien to the *ISSA residents of planet earth. I see why the things being done here don’t work because I know the source of the trouble and it is a hidden source to all the wisdom and all the systems operating within the programming.

For example, I can claim, and state without any reservation that I possess the key to the solution of this world’s greatest and most vexing problems. I can also state unequivocally that I have never made it into some sort of carefully guarded secret to be imparted to some chosen few, nor used it to make disciples and followers and create another institution or collective replete with its fund raising committee. That is not how we operate. Should I write down “the Secret” for you to read? Let me seriously disappoint you – and your disappointment is the sign that you are responding predictably according to your programming. The “Secret” or the key is called compassion. Not love, not charity, not caring, not wishing, hoping and a-praying, just compassion.

It should be easily seen that living the compassionate life puts an end to… exploitation… oppression… misogyny… racism… fear… hate… anger… selfishness… greed… power seeking… pride… rape… torture… need for adulation or some kind of public or popular success… war… genocide… condemnation. Ultimately it ends all the great collectives and monster governments.

That is how we live on my home world therefore it is eminently doable. But not on planet Earth. On planet Earth we do things differently. We create massive problems for ourselves which we then attempt to solve by creating even greater problems. There is an exponential aspect to this which condemns this world to terminate in entropy. In terms of civilization that is exactly what we are experiencing now and we’ve added an even more terminal effect: planetary entropy through overuse and abuse of natural resources.

“Après moi, le déluge” is supposed to be Louis XV’s admission, on his death bed that he had squandered France’s national and imperial resources without ever attempting to rein in the excesses of his peers and courtiers. This would have been in 1774. Fourteen years later came the storming of the Bastille and the beginning of the bloody French revolution.

As in every other time of crisis, the solution is here, accessible to all and ready to be put in practice. As in every other time of crisis, the wrong choices will be made; the wrong solutions applied and the propaganda will do the rest. Earth, thanks to man, is in its downward spiral of entropy.

Could it still be stopped? “Nothing is impossible” asserted the Teacher YLea among other priceless gems of wisdom. But here on Earth there is a program running and that program dictates how people respond to crisis. Unless and until the program is neutralized, the wheel will continue to turn; to crush the poor and the oppressed; to spread terror, famine and disease. Gradually but exponentially even the most advanced and affluent nations will in turn fall under the wheel and be crushed like the rest.

Even if the programming was neutralized and every Earthian individual was suddenly free to practice compassion, there is still a time frame for such a drastic change of mind to become effective. It has been forty years for me and I still feel as if I’m but scratching the surface of this concept. Granted if everybody was pulling in the same direction that time frame could be shortened, but do we have, say, even ten years left in which to change our mind and choose life over death? How long must we “practice” before we fully realize that the only way to choose life is to give life, meaning giving full freedom to choose to all comers?

*ISSA: intelligent, sentient, self aware

Quote: “Most of the change we think we see in life is due to truths being in and out of favor.” (Robert Frost)

Why don’t we get to choose our life?

[thoughts from   ~burning woman~  by Sha’Tara]

Why don’t we get to choose our life?  Come on, is there a more legitimate question than that?  What’s more important than one’s life?  If one’s life is the most important thing one can experience “in life,” how can it be that given a certain age, we are not faced with that choice, literally forced to make such a choice knowing society and civilization will hold us accountable for that choice throughout all future interactions with it?

There is something really strange I find living on this world, in this society, and that’s how little people value the human aspect of their own children.  As property you find much attachment, but as raising responsible individuals who must soon make personally and socially impacting life choices?  Not only do they not bring them up to face the inevitability of having to live a personal life filled with responsibilities entailing consequences that will follow them to their dying day, but they so easily abandon them into the hands of strangers and institutions without really caring about what they are being taught, what they are learning and how that will affect their future life as human beings.  If they seem to care at all, it’s whether the children are equipped to get a job, a profession and will it guarantee a good income.  In short, will they be able to cut it in the rat race?   Values? Ethics? Virtue?  Honor?  Duty?  Trustworthiness? Even temperance or decency?  Not a high priority are they, and how could they be when the leaders themselves are never held to such standards?

Of course that reflects on how the parents themselves were raised; what their values were, and if they had any beyond the previously mentioned: success and money, or maybe for variety, money and success?  And if that didn’t pan out too well, satisfied they didn’t end up making a career of crime and jail time, or securing a permanent position on social welfare.

Obviously, as far as I’ve observed and experienced, nobody gets to choose their own life; they just tumble into some corner or hole society leaves open or unguarded for a moment.  They stand there, leaning on the wall, looking at surrounding walls and wondering, year after year, what comes next; wondering when the next shoe is going to drop if whatever check is going to be enough to fake it through another month.

This is how it all started for me too; I wasn’t anything special.  As soon as “official” grade school began I was installed on the see-saw, severely warned to get those best grades.  Competition was the name of the game, and winning was everything.  I should point out here that as much as “they” tried later with applied political correctness to guarantee everybody a top mark, they still haven’t figured out how in a competitive system everybody can be the best and walk off with the highest mark.  It’s a terrible dilemma, isn’t it.  But I’m sure some Mensa brain is bound to figure it out without violating the first rule of competitive bidding for a dwindling job market: dog eat dog.  Meanwhile everybody is shoved into the brainwash machine and fed the Brave New World belief: “Everybody, believe you can be top dog, and you will be…” Slosh, slosh; slosh, slosh, goes the Big Brainwashing machine everywhere on the planet, 24/7, running full bore in deep wash cycle.

So, back to the original question: what if we got to choose our life or put another way, our purpose in life?  What if we had to sign some societal contract based on wisdom and knowledge handed down through our family generations and our society, dutifully held on to and practiced by our parents, extended families, neighbours, friends, business people, government representatives, religious leaders and so on? 

What if we got to choose our life’s purpose based on the very best that a human society can offer and demonstrate?  How would that be for a start to a young adult’s life, say at the age of sixteen?  Where would we stand?  Would one be able to stand up in any year thereafter, in front of one’s class, or in church or at a community or union meeting, or when accepting a political or other high office, and say, “Thanks to the examples of my parents, siblings, teachers, peers, leaders, co-workers, today I can truthfully say that I understand what it means to be a member of the human race and I have demonstrated those qualities in my life since I chose, and agreed, to do so within this society”? 

And could the community truthfully respond with its own mantra: “We as a people declare this to be an inalienable truth, that inasmuch as it rests within our power as a people to live thus, we have caused no harm to come to any life, or to our world, nor shall we allow such to happen in the future.  By this choice we declare and claim today that we are true human beings”?

I always wonder about things like that.  Seems simple enough to me and I’m thinking, if I can live like that, and I observe that it’s a good thing, why wouldn’t everybody else want to do the same?  And if they do want to live thus, why don’t they?  Why not just stop following stupid and acting stupid?  

Let’s see, where should we begin?   

 

How does a Thing Become “a” Precious?

            [thoughts from  ~burning woman~  ]

…  and the closed bud shrugs off
its special mystery
in order to break into blossom:
as if what exists, exists
so that it can be lost
and become precious
—Lisel Mueller, from “In Passing,” Alive Together: New and Selected Poems. (LSU Press; First Edition edition October 1, 1996)

          A thing can be longed for, can be thought of as precious, but until it is lived for; deeply sacrificed for; even bled for (or killed for) and finally apparently hopelessly lost, that thing can never be accurately described as truly precious: it remains an illusion, a story in a book of fiction.  However good the fiction is, it is still fiction.  The book isn’t purchased, it isn’t owned, it is merely borrowed from a library. It hasn’t cost anything that is irreplaceable: I think that’s the key here.  

          In J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” and continuing in “The Lord of the Ring” there appears a character called Gollum.  Gollum possesses a ring which he calls his “Precious” and is driven mad by it.  Gollum’s ring was indeed his precious because he had paid a great and terrible price to attain it.  Back in the ancient days when he was still a normal being he was called Smeagol and he had an inseparable friend, Deagol.  It was Deagol who found the ring at the bottom of the river Anduin, but when Smeagol saw the ring his desire to possess it exceeded all bounds.  Deagol wouldn’t give up the ring, so Smeagol killed him for it.  Many long years later, the outcast Smeagol, now known as Gollum, lost his “Precious” to Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit.  Then did the ring truly become Gollum’s precious – he dedicated his life to finding the ring and getting his revenge on “the nasty Hobbit Baggins.”  In the end as we know, Gollum died with the ring: they both fell in the fire of Mount Doom. 

    How many of life’s offerings can we call precious?  Of all the obvious: air, water and land from which we draw our sustenance and cannot live without: precious?  Not according to my observations of how man treats his natural environment – definitely not his “Precious” is it. What about people relationships?  I suppose for the few, some relationships become precious as they are engaged, then irretrievably and inconsolably lost.  But for most?  Generally speaking relationships come and go, most easily replaceable.  The gregarious Earthian prefers its creature comforts of body and mind to the pining and the dying for, that puts the meaning of precious in a relationship. This is especially true of today’s consumer “throw away” society.  Most relationships are cheap and easily replaced. 

    I’m obviously fishing in deep waters here: what comes up from the deep?  I’ll tell you: the unexpected; the frightening; the dreadful and also the ineffable that literally takes our breath away so that when it disappears we long for its return to the point that we are willing to die to find it again.  I’m talking about the things that lurk in the depths of the Cosmos; that sing and dance and call beyond our memories, our experiences, our survival instincts and all our paraphernalia of security or ecstatic expectation.  Beyond the symbolism of religion, the greatest works of the mystics and even the best efforts of the poets.

    Nothing can keep us safe from what shows up to become something truly precious.  For to be precious it must be of a nature capable of taking over both mind and heart, all of one’s life, and can never be owned or controlled.  Once one has engaged one’s Precious, one’s life is forfeit.  It belongs to its Precious. 

    According to ancient wisdom, there can only be one Precious in one’s life. “No-one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.”  After many long years of thinking it was irretrievably lost to me, I found my Precious, or rather it found me.  Well, perhaps to be fair to both, we met half-way and recognized each other.  Following that meeting, there was a test of my commitment: it called for my life and I in a gesture of genuine forfeiture, gave it.  That it gave me my life back, if for a time, only lengthened the period of testing – it did not conclude it.  It will be my “master” until I die, and beyond, for my Precious is of a nature that does not die and it is now as much a part of me as I am of it. We are inseparable.  Just to make sure I am not misunderstood here, I am not talking about another human being, or other “being” such as a god or “saviour” in a romantic or agape-love type of relationship.  Nothing so common: this isn’t about love.  Repeat: this has nothing to do with love.

    As I was writing this and thinking about the truth of it, I was wondering how many people have a working relationship with their Precious; how many are even aware that such a state of mind is desirable for life to make sense; how many are aware that without a commitment to one’s Precious, one is left helplessly open to being consumed by some force or other with which it has the relationship of a slave; of a believer in wizardry. 

    The force or forces one responds to when not committed to one life-linked “Master” or “Precious” would say in so many words, “The purpose of our relationship is on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.  Just follow any of the approved paths the rest are on.  Believe and don’t step out of those paths.  The outcome isn’t for you to know, just to worry about.” 

    And that worry becomes fear, fear becomes anger, anger becomes hate and the rest is history, or as some like to say, His story.

{Your head’s like mine, like all our heads; big enough to contain every god and devil there ever was. Big enough to hold the weight of oceans and the turning stars. Whole universes fit in there! But what do we choose to keep in this miraculous cabinet? Little broken things, sad trinkets that we play with over and over. The world turns our key and we play the same little tune again and again and we think that tune’s all we are.” — Grant Morrison, The Invisibles, Vol. 1: Say You Want a Revolution. (Vertigo June 1, 1996) }

 

Their Pleasure is Starving Me

    [a poem by   ~burning woman~   ]

O, Mother, I get so tired at times,
Yes I thought you taught me well,
How to meet them, to please them,
To try to guess the different ways
They expect me to pleasure them.

O, Mother, how they take and take
And how I give and give and…
Nothing.  They give me nothing
Back, and I’m so very tired
But now I don’t know what to do.

O, my Child, I’d hoped you’d learn
Without being told, you’re a woman
And now you are food to them:
They see you and they hunger
And they’re always, always hungry.

O, Child, listen to me once again,
And pay attention this time
Before they’ve eaten your body
And nothing’s left but a husk
And a dis-embodied spirit.

O, Child, listen carefully:
They do not know how to give
It’s not in their nature although
Some may think they’re giving
When they offer you a dollar.

It’s up to you Child to feed yourself
And the only food you’ll find
Is inside them as they lay with you
As they come, and before they go:
It’s up to you to feed off them.

How far back must we go?

[thoughts from   ~burning woman~   ]

In my introduction on this blog I wrote: “I think that every problem is an invitation to all of us to work out the solution, and I believe that no problem exists that does not contain a solution within itself. All we are asked to do is unravel it. Life is like a Rubik’s Cube. There is a solution, it’s just a willingness to work at it until it emerges.” 

Taking it from “now” here’s a bit of reality check:

Source: Researchers Say Society Is Doomed. Can We Save Ourselves in Time?undergroundreporter.org – Christina Sarich – September 7, 2016

Clues unearthed by archaeologists suggest that our society is doomed for collapse. Researchers from University College London and the University of Maryland recently studied 2,378 archaeological sites from Neolithic Europe to discover some tell-tale signs indicating when an ecosystem was shifting into instability. After looking at the data, it seems that every single civilization gave clues to its own impending demise — including our own.

Signs that a society is about to collapse, or undergo a massive reorganization, included fragility in systems that had undergone ‘slowing down’ or ‘flickering’ from impacts such as disease, warfare, resource degradation, or crop failure.

The researchers describe ‘flickering’ as a change in a society’s response to these perturbations resulting in the society becoming caught in a socio-ecological trap that reinforces the same bad behaviour that caused the issues to begin with, and prevents adaptation with new action.

Every time a society ‘flickers’ it loses recovery time, and you could consider it as moving closer to destruction. The team found that these flickering signs signified an eventual demise of the society, all showing up well before the actual collapse.

(Copied from: https://talesfromtheloublog.wordpress.com/2016/09/19/researchers-say-society-is-doomed-can-we-save-ourselves-in-time/)

Undeniably our current world is severely handicapped by serious and intensifying problems.  I don’t think I need to name them, we all know what we’re facing, as a global society, and as individuals.  It is my nature to seek solutions to problems and the more obvious those are, the more I find myself focusing, perhaps even fixating, upon them.  “Find a solution… Think!”  And it’s what my mind does. 

It has been said that necessity is the mother of invention.  What I’ve been learning lately is that “invention” need not be a strictly forward motion: in looking for solutions it can move backward.  And this is where I’m at: how far back must man, as a species, go to solve his current life-threatening problems?  To explain that backward move, it is necessary to delve into the main cause of man’s current crisis.

The common thought is that solutions are found in new, forward-looking discoveries.  For every action (which comes from a previous reaction) there is a new reaction.  Thus the clumsy reciprocal “chug… chug… chug…” movement of civilization moves itself forward and each time, like the old coal fired steam trains, the machine picks up speed.  A new “disease” (caused by a previous reciprocal movement) gets a new drug treatment which causes more problems to be met with more drugs.  That has been the way, and it’s the accepted way.  Except that it doesn’t work, and never did, because there never was any track built past the tunnel.  But that’s all beside the point as long as we chose, as a collective, to exist in total denial of history and observation and believe that any “new and improved whatever” would solve any current crisis, or make any current burden easier to bear.  Thus we blindly entered the age of science as god; the age of technocracy: of technology, of robotics, of machines, of medical interventions and heaping drug prescriptions, of faster communication and travel, of ever-expanding cities to house an exponentially growing population.  We entered the age of top-down, system driven, totalitarian collectivization and we were taught in public school, in college, by the media and the corporate world that its called progress.  Therefore we progressed into a progressively worsening societal condition, right up to the end of the track which in today’s parlance we call “the unsustainable society.”

In 1972, yes, that far back, the Club of Rome and others commissioned computer simulations dealing with unrestrained growth versus availability of space and resources.

From Wikipedia, (excerpt): “The Limits to Growth” is a 1972 book about the computer simulation of exponential economic and population growth with finite resource supplies. The original version presented a model based on five variables: world population, industrialisation, pollution, food production and resources depletion. These variables are considered to grow exponentially, while the ability of technology to increase resources availability is only linear.

And a footnote to the article:  With few exceptions, economics as a discipline has been dominated by a perception of living in an unlimited world, where resource and pollution problems in one area were solved by moving resources or people to other parts. The very hint of any global limitation as suggested in the report The Limits to Growth was met with disbelief and rejection by businesses and most economists. However, this conclusion was mostly based on false premises.  – Meyer & Nørgård (2010).

It’s important to understand what “exponential growth” versus “linear growth” mean.  You’ve all seen graphs showing exponential growth: that smooth line at the bottom that begins to rise ever so slowly, then higher and higher as each segment doubles itself until the line shoots right off the top of the chart.  Linear on the other hand shows a steady growth rate, predictable, logical, sustainable.  Man’s civilization today is of the exponential kind, and we’re very close to the top of the chart.  So close that the system sustaining the growth is failing – AT EVERY POINT – and not just on some.  We’ve not only reached the limits to growth, we have surpassed them and now we can’t stop our train from shooting off the end of the tunnel of progress we created from our lusts and greed and passion for the cheap and easy; the entertaining.      

Now for a very, very brief history lesson beginning with a question: which of mankind’s many civilizations not only succeeded, but continued on and remains “operative” and growing to this day?   And the answer is… none.  Not a single one.  Each civilization that rose from nothing, or from the wrack and ruin of another has in its turn collapsed utterly. 

A reminder from none other than the famous poet, Percy Shelley:

 “Ozymandias”
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

What better comparison could one make of this current prideful and shallow civilization than to the boastful one of the great king “Ozymandias?”  Oh yes, it is said that science with the faithful and uncanny help of technology can, and will, solve all of man’s current problems.  Stupid to worry, to be concerned, about such things as climate change which “Right” thinking people know to be a hoax; about over population (why, the earth can sustain twice our current numbers!); availability of food and sustainability of edible crops (what about GMO’s and fish farms, etc.?) and simple living space (ah, hmm, well, we can live closer together, build higher highrises and we can go live on the moon, or on Mars with a bit of technological fixing!) and wars (a one-world government will fix that, along with a one-world economy!)

Wonderfully childish reasoning that is desperately held onto by billions of desperate individuals: desperate for things to continue as they are; desperate to ignore, hide, mock, the reality that is threatening to destroy not only most of mankind, but much of his living environment and those “others” nature symbiotically “intended” for space to be shared with.  Simply put, quality has given way to quantity – it’s always what happens when values are determined by numbers – and numbers only work when fed more quantities of numbers.  Exponential growth, everywhere: the terminal cancer of this civilization.

Somewhere way back in pre-historic times man “happened” on this world.  I really don’t know how that came about and I’m not a strong proponent of Darwinist evolutionary theories, while holding the creation concept equally at arms length, but man “was” here.  From what I gather this “man” creature was living a natural life on a natural world.  And as we observe of other animals, all was, relatively speaking, well with that.

Then something amazing and terrible happened: man came face to face with a choice.  There was a fork on the road of life, the left continuing the natural pattern of life, and the right promising a much brighter, exciting, morally and technically uplifting future.  Man was offered the fruit of civilization.  Some saw it as a marvellous opportunity for advancement and took that path.  Most did not, but it would be “civilized” man that would rise to conquer and subdue the earth and all that dwell therein.  Man became “Ozymandias” the king of kings, ruler of all creation.  Then one civilization after another rose suddenly, then fell slowly until hardly anything remained, and then another took its place, or surfaced somewhere else on the planet and “great” works were accomplished; marvels were created and built, then that too collapsed utterly, leaving only remnants in stone or bits and pieces of clay to mark the passage of civilized man.  And on and on it went, until history began to be recorded on clay tablets and parchments, then in books and now in digital information.  This is but another of those suddenly risen only to fail, civilization.  And no, this civilization isn’t too big to fail – quite the contrary: it is too big to sustain itself and must fail. 

This is about a solution to our current dilemma.  Believing as I do that nothing can fix this toppling purposeless global civilization build on nothing but exploitation, oppression and bloodshed, my solution is eloquent by its simplicity: man must (not should) return to that pre-historic fork in the road and turn back to the left hand path, putting a clear sign on the right hand one that says: “This is the path to hell.  It is forbidden for man to enter therein for this path can only be sustained by oppression and bloodshed, that is, by death.” 

Yes: man must give up his pride filled attempts at creating new civilizations and return to his proper, natural, non-exploitative roots.  The collapse of this civilization, since it is global in scope, is likely man’s last chance at redeeming himself; at rediscovering humility in compassion, in sharing, in becoming truly a human being to live in peace and harmony with all others on this little world.   No amount of “civilizing” can do that for man, only a return to nature. 

Walking Barefoot and going Naked

[thoughts from  ~burning woman~  ]

There’s been quite a bit of talk out here in blog planet about walking barefoot.  It is even said that walking barefoot on the earth is healing to the body.  A dangerously revolutionary concept in re-awakening awareness and consciousness of what it means to have a physical body that is meant to be connected to the earth, not to a rising megalith of technology.  So let’s look at man the civilized technocrat as he proudly stands today, master of his earth domain, and let’s look at an alternative lifestyle, a what-if when man encountered a fork in the road of his evolution and chose the path of civilization and technology over the path offered by nature.  At the start of man’s right-hand path choice he didn’t realize that his civilization could only proceed to the degree that he conquered, denigrated and systematically destroyed all vestiges of his natural roots.  Man’s new world would be an artificial one which in the end would enslave him completely.

Technology has made man less and less sensitive to the natural environment.  It’s given rise to several generations of whiners, bitchers and complainers about “the weather” even from those whose sole contact with the great bane of “the weather” consists of a dozen or so steps from a centrally heated or air-conditioned building to a heated or air-conditioned vehicle.  But it’s not just modern technology that has made man into an unnatural borg-like creature: it’s all of man’s civilization right from the beginning.

Archaeology demonstrates that man’s civilizations arise spontaneously as if out of nowhere and from nothing, without natural or rational explanation for their sudden appearance only to fall prey to destruction and decay over and over again.  Our great global capitalistic-technocratic civilization today is poised on the edge of its own irrevocable downfall, the “sword of Damocles” hanging over its raison d’être.  And here we go again, and this going is being accompanied by horrendous loss of human life, of indigenous species and this time may well result in a planetary eco-environmental disaster making current non-mutated biological life as we know it impossible.  I’m not saying anything new here and it’s all available to anyone who still doesn’t get it. 

So let’s go back to that famous fork in the road; the great bifurcation.  At the time, most Earthians chose to ignore the lure of civilization and quietly took the left hand path leading to the fair, sweet, unspoiled empty lands and wilderness for which man and his fellow earth wanderers, were made.  They walked away in their innocence, naked and unafraid, to pluck juicy fruits dangling from healthy trees and vines, roots and herbs growing along the path for the digging and the picking. 

Oh, and here’s a tidbit of information most, if not all, “civilized” Earthians are blissfully unaware of, and deliberately so: on that left hand path into the untamed frolicky wilderness of earth there were then no predators.  That’s right, and I can just hear the intake of breath, see the snide smile and the shaking of the head: nuts!  Yes, there were lots of nuts, also for the picking, and free as everything else.  But seriously, those terrible predators that get so much mileage in Disney movies and corny virtual reality shows, and so much bad press from children’s tales… they lived side by side with man and his children and everybody was… vegetarian.  There was no killing; no bloodshed and very little pain.  Death came about naturally, was accepted, and nature continued to offer her bounty as that which died returned to the soil to become part of that which lived on. 

For those who think they really know the “Bible”… here’s a quote to make anyone think:

Genesis 1:29 Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.

Genesis 1:30 And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds of the air and all the creatures that move on the ground — everything that has the breath of life in it — I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.

I imagine a world where the choice of paths had not materialized; where “normal” was not interfered with.  What would earth look like today if man had not become civilized and had not “discovered” technology?  Let’s look at the obvious and let’s try to determine if man made the correct choice in not only making an idol of civilization and technology, but forcing those who had not, into it’s polluting, deadly melting pot, and if they would not, enslaving them and killing them outright. 

What happens if you don’t wear shoes, but must walk barefoot?  You are basically guided by your feet: you cannot go where the terrain would destroy, burn or freeze your feet, so you remain in foot-friendly zones.  The rest remains for the livelihood and safety of “others.”

What happens if you don’t learn to wear clothing?  Again, your body dictates where you may live.  Any area too cold, too wet or otherwise too harsh for “the naked ape” body would be naturally eschewed.  So those areas would remain the domain of others who could live there and man would never become a threat to them. 

What happens if you don’t learn to make heated shelters?  Again, your species is limited to those temperate zones where sheltering or sleeping comfortably on freshly strewn grasses and leaves can be done.  You stay within zones nature says are suitable for you and you leave the rest alone.  And again, the “others” can find their own life in non-threatened areas of the planet.  

What happens if you don’t learn to make and wear armour in battle?  You remain much more vulnerable to sticks and stones and choose to avoid pitched battles with strangers, instead making attempts to live in relative peace with them.  You don’t become “warriors” in any case because you really have nothing to defend.  You can always move on.

One can see by the above that “overpopulation” and the Earthian species overrunning space naturally reserved for others would not have happened without civilization.  Also man would not have developed the incredibly stupid hubris of inventing weapons of mass destruction to threaten not only his own civilization, but all others and perhaps the living biosphere.    

And here’s one more: what happens if day in, day out, everybody around you, from baby to oldest remains naked?  Well surprise, surprise but you don’t notice such a thing as unusual.  So you don’t become a misogynist male; you don’t rape your women or young boys.  You don’t need books of laws of sexual taboos with attached punishments for violating those laws.  When you need sex, which in non-civilized societies isn’t the driving sickness it is in crowded, controlled, stifled city-type living, it is easily and simply satisfied for both sexes. 

In conclusion I want to repeat a teaching I got from one of the Teachers, Phaelon.  In his list of attributes that define a true human being, was this one:  “When you find you can walk naked among others of your own species and feel no shame, know that you are a human being.”

Which closes this essay:  Why do Earthians feel ashamed to be seen naked by each other?  Why do they experience the need to measure themselves by how their bodies look to others through pride or shame?  Why do they associate nudity with sexuality?  And why does this shame persists even among those who have deliberately rejected organized Religions and the gods who purportedly made those arbitrary and unnatural rules regarding sex, gender identity, and the type of clothing a male and a female may wear?

I am completing this sitting at my back yard computer “desk” under a bright, clear autumn sun… totally naked and feeling wonderful.   Want to join me? 

 

 

My Golden Boy

(*** for Vidhika at “The Grateful Dead” blog***)
   [a Short Story – by Sha’Tara]

It had all happened so fast.  Maybe because everything spoke of perfection, a dovetailing of events that happen only in fairy tales.  It was my fairy tale.  That perfect Summer.
 
I probably better go back a bit and explain.  Our family, that is my mom, my dad and me, well, we were what is called dysfunctional.  My dad is an alcoholic and an abuser.  Even as I write this, and admit it to myself I cringe inside.  I can still see him come into my room those nights when mom worked the night shift at the hospital.  I can still smell his breath and feel his hands on me as he tugged at my nightgown while I tried to hold on to it, curling up and crying, begging him to leave me alone.  But every time I had to let him or get beaten.  If I got beaten I lied to mom about the bruises.  I was so sure all of this was my fault and if she found out she’d hate me or beat me up and maybe send me away to a foster home or something.
 
But then he beat her too and she fought back.  She’s a nurse and you could say she’s pretty tough.  She kicked him out of our lives finally, divorced him with an injunction against him not to contact us.  He tried it once.  He went to jail.  I don’t know where he is now and hope I never find out.  I’m still afraid of him; afraid he’ll show up one day, even though I’m now living on my own.
 
After the divorce things got better for mom and I.  I told her then what dad had done to me and we became, well, more like two women who share their pain in understanding rather than mother and daughter.  You will say, she should have known, but I think she didn’t want to face it then.  I was only fifteen then but my life had made me mature in some ways, though in others I trailed behind.  In school I did well and I had a dream to become a doctor. 
 
Mom had saved up some money and some vacation time and after I turned sixteen she decided to spend a whole month in a cabin at a popular lake near the mountains.  Kind of a birthday gift for you, she said.  We took only what we could pack and took the bus to Chanesville, then a smaller tour bus to the resort on lake Chitsaw.  Our cabin was back in the trees, a bit old and moldy smelling at first, but it was far enough we didn’t have to hear the jetskis and power boats that continually tore up the waterfront.
 
The beach was perfect.  Golden sand under a golden sun.  I tan easily and within a couple of days I felt pretty good walking around in one of my two bikinis.  I had a blue and a pink one and sometimes I mixed the colours.  Within a week I knew almost everybody and had a couple of girl friends from my school.
 
I saw him during the second week and I fell in love.  No, not just infatuated, but deeply and madly in love.  It was as if he had materialized from inside my dreams.  Tall, handsome, beautiful of face with shoulder-length blond hair.  I wasn’t the only one who noticed him, of course, and soon he was the talk of our circle.  We dared each other to go over and talk to him.  Sometimes he walked alone along the shore and it seemed to me that the sand became even more golden after he touched it. 
 
I decided I’d risk it and waited until he took one of his walks by himself and walked to the water in an intersecting path.  When he was within a couple of yards from me I bent over pretending to be inspecting something in the sand.  He came over and asked what I was looking at.  I lied and said I thought I’d seen a green bug burrowing in.  He laughed.  Introduced himself: Dean.  I did likewise: Shauna.  We walked together.  I, lost in a lucid dream.  He, probably looking me over as men do.  It often made me uncomfortable but with him, well, I would have danced naked for him if he’d asked me!
 
D’you have someone?  No I said.  Neither do I.  There’s a party at our cabin tomorrow evening.  I’ll come by your place and escort you, if you want to come.  Sure I said.  It’s number forty-three, up there in the trees.  Yeah, I know, he said.  I’ve watched you before and I followed you yesterday. 
 
Well, with that my feelings went off the chart.  The rest is just too predictable, right out of a bad novel.  He came to our cabin and I introduced him to mom.  She didn’t take to him the way I’d expected.  She took me into her room and closed the door.  You watch yourself, Shauna, she said.  This boy makes me uncomfortable.  Maybe it’s just me, being your mom and seeing you go out on a date like that.  Promise you’ll be home by midnight and that you won’t walk back alone?
 
Yes mom, yes.  Promises are easy to make when your mind, your heart, your whole being is somewhere else.  Walking with Dean was like floating in the air.  Everything was wonderful, beautiful.  The stars were brighter than usual.  The air was cleaner, sweeter.  The party was great.  When most of the people had wandered off, the kids to “midnight swims” and the adults back to their own places, I found myself practically alone with Dean.  Come upstairs, I’ll show you my room, he said.  I felt a twinge of something – a warning?  Mom’s words tried to make me stop.  But I couldn’t.  He was my golden lover. 
 
Yeah, we made love.  Wildly, passionately.  He had experience.  He drove me crazy.  I lost myself in him and finally fell asleep in his arms.  He woke me up just before midnight, reminding me of my promise to my mother to be home by then.  We got dressed and he walked me home.  I was still in that mood you get when you walk out of a movie theatre when the romance has triumphed.  Dizzy with love.
 
I spent most of the rest of that vacation with Dean.  Inseparable, we were.  Afterwards, we talked every night on the phone.  It was long distance but mostly he made the calls so it didn’t cost me much.  Then I missed my period.  I knew I was pregnant.  I couldn’t tell mom and didn’t know what to do.  So stupid.  I just forgot the damned pills.  Just figured it couldn’t happen until Dean and I were married, or living together, you know?  I told Dean.  Dead silence on the other end of the phone.  Dean?  Yeah, well, you going to get an abortion, aren’t you?  They’re not legal here and I can’t tell mom.  What do we do?  I asked stupidly.  I don’t think it’s a question of what we do, babe.  It’s not really my problem, is it.  You have to get an abortion.
 
I must have passed out.  When I came to, the phone was talking to me.  I hung up and tried to wake up from a nightmare.  But it was like before with dad.  It was no nightmare.  Real.  This was real.  Dean dumped me.  Then mom noticed and after much crying, I told her.  She was real mad at first, said I should have told her and she could have made the arrangement.  Stupid, you’re so stupid.  Now it’s too late.  What are your plans?  She asked.  My plans?  I don’t have any plans!  Dean and I were going to move in together eventually, get married.  Now I’m alone again, just like when you worked the night shift and dad molested me.  What can I do mom? 
 
You have to give my mom credit.  She didn’t stay mad, or in blame, or denial.  She asked me, what has life taught you so far when you have a problem?  And I told her, I have to find my own solution to it.  It’s my problem and I must deal with it.  And I want my baby I said suddenly with a new kind of passion I’d never had before. 
 
I continued in school until it got too embarrassing.  Took correspondence courses put together for girls in my situation.  Mom supported me.  She attended when I had my baby.  At first, well, he was just a typical shriveled up little thing with a loud mouth.  But as he grew I saw the spitting image of Dean in him.  He is my golden boy and I love him.  He’s the legacy of my lost pleasure and happiness as a stupid young girl and he’s my joy now, my life. 
 
I’m nineteen now, soon I’ll be twenty and Shane is three.  I moved away from home last year, just to be alone with my son.  It feels right to do this by myself and for him to know who his real mother is.  Mom was spending too much time with him thinking I needed time to myself.  I don’t need that much.  I like my work – I work in a hair dressing shop where they train you.  I like working with people and pleasing them with the right words, the right touch and of course, the right hairstyle.  We live in a basement bachelor suite in a run-down old quadplex but it’s a good place.  The owners live upstairs; an old Jewish couple who adore Shane.  They baby-sit for me, most of the time for nothing.  What can I say more?  My life and my world are good.
 
The other day as I was getting on the bus I noticed a stretch limo stopping on the other side of the street by a Starbucks.  I smiled – I always do at those ostentatious ugly vehicles that have only one message for the rest of us: Hey look at me, I’m rich.  Dumb.  Then I saw a man step out as the chauffeur opened the door.  Tall, handsome, blond.  It was Dean.  I know it was.  My heart was pounding in my chest and I had to grab the back of the seat to keep my balance.  I looked again but he was gone and the bus pulled out.  It’s then I realized how good my life really is.  It’s mine.  Dean could have been a part of the wonder we created in our foolishness.  But he chose not to and left the entire fortune in my hands and my heart.
 
When Shane is old enough I’ll let him go and give him his life too.  We make our own way in life; we don’t depend on others or belong to others.  Then life is truly good.