A WHOOPER SWAN'S DIARY: December 2020

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, December 26, 2020

The One LOVE.

Don’t be wasting any more time, babe, tryin’ to join together what Is already one.

That from the Beginning has been done.

Love is not for sale.

Won’t be worn as a ring on a finger or a thumb.

So, my dear, if you’ll quit trying to keep warm by swallowing the Sun something you always had but never knew you had will seem automatically to come.

We can’t mint love.

Cannot print love.

Can’t give or take it and

sure can’t forsake it.

It has done for you and me what we never even thought we wanted done. And all love asks of you is everything you claim you wish to have…and then some.

Talkin’ ‘bout the One LOVE.

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

In halls and halls FILLED WITH books man praises his story…His Story…History. All you need to know is it’s his story. And, in truth, there is no such goddamned thing! The full-time job of a stupid person, and all persons are stupid, is to promote day and night a stupid point of view and all such ideas are stupid, empty and really pointless. Every point of view is without dimension. That’s the point! They give each other awards for this and make promises concerning a future in a rose garden. Swear to each other undying loyalty as they build a ladder that will enable them to rise above it all. Over dead bodies.

Each person pretends to be unique but all amount to “same things”. Sameness turns to dullness. Dullness implies treatment. Doctor Feel Good is called for. That is the beginning of hell in the human brain. Second most powerful thing in the Universe has taken control of that brain. For awhile the stupid person in Hell is aware he is watching himself from somewhere else. Gradually the light grows dimmer until it goes out. That’s it! A robot is complete as a small, blind central point pointing through imagination only. It has been said that in a world of the blind the one-eyed man is king.

I saw the heart break.

I saw it break in the boy’s eyes and across his injured face.

I saw the heart break and I could not stop accusing him and piling on blame.

I am so sickened and carry such shame.

He’s grown to be a good man, kind and strong

in spite of what I did to him one night

which has lasted my life long.

Then, suddenly, from another place, the shame was seen and to those eyes is gone. That is forgiveness!