A WHOOPER SWAN'S DIARY: 01/25/22

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 25, 2022

The Birth of them blues…

An educated man, by that is really meant a human who has attended and graduated, or nearly gardurated, from a school of higher learnin’ after High School. Sumpthin’ like all that there anyhow.

Such a person, by that time is so white-washed he must interpret everything he comes upon in the limited language of acquired knowledge, lectures and books, that maker of conceit, and deceit. He pretends to know about other languages…the language of music for example but cannot know them for his brain is too far conditioned white to ever come back to its original state of openness lest a miracle happen. So, when listening to music he or she is thinking in a language outside the realm of music. Such people are more interested in the birth date and national affiliation of the composer and how many pieces he composed and in what order than in the music. All trivial. By openness I include the languages of God, including the language of nature, the language of love, the language of decency, the animal language, the plant language, the language of sexuality, the language of art, the language of soul, the language of taste, the language of smell, the language of sound, the language of vision, all the languages of pain, the language of the dead and so many, many more. All of them are intuitive. True mathematics is intuitive.

So, this educated fool will believe a Negro was drawn to the Blues as a method for raising himself out of poverty into the higher social status of better living. That one misses entirely the truth that the more natural human who is held down by the authorities by force will have to discover: Hey, I am not that one who suffers, I am something quite magnificent who can sing!And by that, discover he is already free! Discover the greatest truth: that freedom and fulfillment are completely independent of one’s circumstances. From there he can pity those who use violence to acquire and hold onto material wealth and fame which turn out always to be another form of slavery. A human being with such brilliant insight enters the world of creativity, leaving behind him or her the world of problems and problem solving as one truly free human being! A person who can do anything! If the educated fool had the eyes of a babe he could see it on the faces of the truly free.

So let us be real. What the Black people created was freedom right in the face of the problem. Instead of trying to escape from the trouble some of them went into it. Met it. Were it. Made it Tru Belle. Creativity happened. It will happen every time! From the Far East came a teacher who told all who listened, Do not say “Fear has me!” Say, “I am Fear!” “ And by so doing end fear forever. J. Krishnamurti. The broken Hallelujah was born tens of thousands of years ago. And it transformed Hell into Heaven in America for some folk. It works when all hope is gone.

See, the blues does not say, Heaven’s a-comin”. The Blues say, “Heaven is here!” Big difference. Try it for yourself. Find out.