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, August 23, 2022

                    UNATTACHED LOVE


“I love you” as it is spoken by people to each other is like a cowboy who throws a rope over a calf. It means, “Do not be alarmed, little one, I know what is good for you better than you do. I will take care of you. Trust me.” At the slaughter house it will have occurred to the now cow “Hmmm. I doubt that cowboy was my friend.” 


How did we get to this point and how long ago? It comes from the thoughts of the speaker and is named “attachment” by those who examine into the human brain. A human is driven somehow to say these 3 little words to others at what is thought by the speaker to be the appropriate time. It definitely means now “Gotcha!” Civilizations teach that one should reach this moment with certain others in order to be “proper”. But, is it?


Without going further at this time, let me offer to you that there is, as a fact, unattached love. No vocabulary will ever reach into it. It is a pure feeling. When felt, words such as “I see the beautiful embodiment you are” might come. It is a whole other thing from what is meant by “I love you” inside today’s societies.  Self is not present. Time is not present. When both parties are together in the same timeless moment there will be a mutual love experienced as a fact, not as a concept. It can be trusted without doubt. When the two, or one of them, are not feeling the presence of unattached love itself it is a matter of how much the actual fact means to them. Will they see what is missing or remain outside love’s direct experience resorting to selfish methods insisted upon by attachment? Attachment carries “possessiveness” in the form of life in a cage. That sucks. Fact of love is beautiful. Concept of love is sorrow. Fact of love allows no room at al all for concepts as it is another dimension from thinking entirely.


I feel like weeping now, not smiling.

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