A WHOOPER SWAN'S DIARY: 03/07/16

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!

Monday, March 7, 2016

This morning while listening to a song about Bob Dylan fighting with his twin, the enemy within, I glimpsed a ray of light new to me. Who is that twin we all know about? If one is made of thoughts, well, it is the antithesis of every idea you have adopted as to who you are. It cannot be helped that when I say I like chocolate I also create a thought that I do not like it. These thoughts come like a wildfire at times, all day long and into the night and even when I dream. So, I am building two identities constantly. Opposites. And it is like one of them is considered to be normal me and the other is shunned, rejected and in some way sentenced to remain in a cellar within me where I keep monsters. That one is not about to behave willingly. It wants to live to violate my rules against it. This struggle is normal for anybody who thinks he or she lives inside a society with a name. Why? One must believe one is created by thought as a prerequisite to choosing membership in a society that is definitely created by thought.

I write only to suggest to those who experience what is discussed above that you may not be made of thought. Actually, you can find out for yourself whether it is so. Do not take my word for it. Years ago, someone suggested to me that I really do not end at the surface of my skin. It was told that the farthest part of me extends beyond the farthest star in the Universe. What I know is that upon hearing that I experienced a feeling that I would describe as infinite. It lasted only a brief time and was gone. Now, many years later, I experience it daily when I am willing to sit still and simply be for an hour.

So, if I am correct in my suggestion, then the so-called science of the mind is all dedicated to the study of who we are not. It (who we are not) is in a war, within and without. We feed it pills to ease the pain of living that way. Is that foolish? Find out.