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!

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

MOMENTS


 This one moment we have and more than that if I find what lies inside. Carefully I abide. Not to startle any one or rattle the neighborhood. Only as a visitor come leaving no prints behind. Watch my mouth. Lips still. My fingers at my side. Teeth withdrawn. Muscles loose. Naked. No luggage. Ask deeply for a sign. No press. No fanfare. Not even a glance in the mirror. Erase all intentions. Nothing. Nobody sees me I am invisible. If I need protection it is given in stillness by the one who does nothing and leaves nothing undone. If I am to express the service it will be done. Touch no other and being certain to touch the light inside every one be out going as angels or knights are likely to be who see the invisible more clearly than they see what's gross. Sacred? Label me what is not sacred and I will tell you that your label is a lie. Layer upon layer of presence. This day two stood on a mountain before the same sky and thousands of words danced through each of them in two distinct languages and neither spoke a word and what was being felt being all they had to share they were as one who understood in a moment that was not what a moment is supposed to be but an epoch itself subdivided into ages of nonlinear chronostratigraphy wrapped around a flag pole, waving nothing.
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