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, January 14, 2020

I had a crazy dream

 last night. We were in Kentucky, not Texas. Someone died. A family member. There was talk that we had been supposed to go to court and prove the deceased had owned a chicken at the time of death. Otherwise, he would be declared to be nonexistent and never had he actually been alive. Then he could have owned nothing and we better get that straight. We spent most of the dreamtime trying many comical ways to prove our relative owned a chicken the moment he died and every theory proved unprovable. There were real chickens in the dream that we ate while we were trying to prove our relative owned it at the time he died. Ha! How's that for a dream?   Believe it or not, though, the dream was funny as Hell and we had a lot of fun trying and failing and just deciding to laugh it off. I sure wish I had filmed my dream.....as I wrote you this little account of my dream I was smiling and seeing how profoundly true it happened to be...nobody can prove who it was was ever even here which is the best of all possible worlds and you and I got to live it out this way, just loving what we love and laughing off the rest of it. 
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)