THE STORY OF JOHNNY WHOOPER SWAN We go to school trusting our parents. We meet a teacher there who stands up front with a big desk, and a pointer. She or he trains us in an authoritative manner. We attach mentally to a life long need for authority in order to live lives successfully. Right so far? In my case, at the age of 25 I was ready to enter the practice of law where I hoped for success and a happy life finally. Very shortly, very shortly, I became anxious. There was a foreboding. I was made more uncomfortable with each experience. Law work is nothing like what I was told it would be. The system is corrupt. But I still cling to my expectation that career success is necessary to my happiness as a man. Each day my grasp of what the fuck success amounts to after all becomes more clouded, murkier. I hear songs on the airwaves and at concerts which describe my life as the life of a fool. What am I becoming? I want to rip off my business suit to run naked in the street with my hair on fire! But I am too afraid. In strange, weird (weird comes from a word meaning wise), fragmented steps I go about a journey of my own believing myself to be the first man to have failed in such a total way which journey works so as to break up my career, end a marriage, and start an entirely new way of relating with my two children whom I love deeply. Almost magically I meet a woman who is a career counselor who asserts a beautiful message that I am made to be joyful in my work everyday and at all levels. This understanding sets me on a completely new course. It is no longer a world of systems to me but an undivided one of unlimited beauty. It reminds me of a painting. A true masterpiece. I am drawn from within to learn the truth about my identity and nobody else can teach me that. From this point onward I will use thinking capacity for mastering mechanical processes and follow my heart, which includes my whole nature, which includes your whole nature and that of every human being for all the rest. I’ll go by the name Johnny Whooper Swan who does not explain itself to anyone. By my fruits shall I be known. Watch me soar!

Wednesday, August 24, 2016


From Worm To Cougar and Back



There is an unbroken chain from worm to cougar and back, a priceless trove the owner of which is unknown; and I am allowed myself to be included among its treasures, or not. If not, I chase nonliving gold instead with which I hope to buy freedom from the ungraspable source of life. Either way, I serve somebody. Have you noticed churches and hospitals and yoga teachers hoarding chests of gold? Why fear life? Death? Is that it? Which way?

Coming in or going out?


The gold misers who stayed on dry land at home paid with gold for the whalers on ships with ample stores for years at sea to go and carry back the dead whales' oil to be turned back into more gold at marketplace where unknowns happen to be despised. The market bases its strength in a thesis there is not enough to gratify everybody; thus creating the appearance of finite certainty so the accountants' manipulations create a price for every commodity. And yet, uninvited guests have a way of upsetting the plans of men who marry wives. And, the weirdest of all things happening are the prayers of the misers that the Phantom who adores the Big Fish protect their erstwhile treasure from harm, bless it, and keep it safely out of the hands of other thieves than themselves. Where and from whom and how long can these fools hope to hide?

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