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!

Saturday, January 27, 2018

There is a story I want to tell it well.


I saw a flower growing, it was a tiny sprig,

I reached forth my hand which began to work

on behalf of the flower

so brave was that flower

to even show up in that dry wasteland as a sprig,

now, my hands work joyously

in a garden

as hands that belong to

the source of all flowers of courage




Now you have heard my story I warn you. Do not let your mind turn you down a dark hallway presuming I should take the credit for this garden or you will remain in the dark until you turn around and carefully retrace your steps to where you made that turn. There you will find me. I am the humility in human being whose meekness has inherited Earth. Did you know such wisdom resides in meekness? Once I was in the exact spot to allow a tiny flower to hit me sideways. As I recall it now, I was there as if by accident, but, an accident that seemed to know me better than I know me. In fact, I would say that accident somehow introduced me to myself as I know me to be. I am.


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