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!

Wednesday, September 28, 2022

 What’s going on?


Two eyes look into two open hands, saying to nobody, “This body is here.” To that can be added, “and this body is a living thing.” The same is true for every other living human being.  We can agree on this much: two bodies, both alive. Wait a minute. This body that is living thinks! By thinking it is writing this down. Thinking calls itself “I” and it thinks it exists. It says “I am”. But, is it so that just because the living body thinks there is a thinker there is one? Or, has thinking done that trick, has imagined for itself a thinker. In other words, a part of thinking is its imagined thinker. A thinker is not over there separate from thinking, is it? Golly! I see that thinking has been giving itself imaginary powers and then awarding itself for imaginary accomplishments. That rascal! What is going on? 


What is a mind? What is consciousness? Hmmm. Consciousness is a word. Is it also a fact? Was consciousness before thinking? Did it exist before the word? Can a living body be conscious without thoughts or words? Hey, perhaps we are now able to see the scripture “In the beginning was the word” in a new light. It really points out that before any language was the thing the words are trying to capture for use in thinking but it is so very, very, very important to never lose sight of the fact there was a fact before the word came to name it or…we go nuts. Ladies and gentlemen, few, if any, human is unaware of the fact that the human race is “nuts”. We are onto something here. Pay attention.


Is consciousness all inclusive? What is going on? I just suggested to myself that what is called consciousness is, as a fact, all inclusive and common to all human beings and existed before the “word”. What we call “my consciousness” is “your consciousness” as well and everybody else’s too. Actually, is this stuff even important to think about? Looks like it is thought about when a human loses it by coming to think the “word” is the “thing” it defines and comes to believe his consciousness is uniquely “his”. 


Does this mean when Freud decided he would study crazy people he was really motivated to study his own craziness and maybe afraid to admit it? And it was the first time, but not the last time, a nut founded a philosophy.


Death is a fact. Everybody fears the word. Seldom speak of it. The fact of it transcends words for certain. Is that the real fear? Life for us has become the “word” and death another word that ends it? Life begins in the lactating breast. Death as a fact is the moment beauty releases [me] and is always exactly on time. That’s good music!


I once went to an analyst. Nice guy. We became friends. We worked together for six weeks or more. Discussed a book we both found to be interesting reading. At the end he told me he could do no more for me, that I did not need him, which was taken to mean he did not expect me to go on paying to have discussions with him. And he thanked me for helping him see some things that had been worrying him a long time. Joked that he might owe me money for that. In my heart I thanked the friendship. In the course of those discussions was renewed a friendship with the whole of life.


A child does not “think” of “consciouness” at all. Yet, the child has it. The fact is all are that child. And when my consciousness changes that of all others is altered as well. Let us get it together sooner than later.


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