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 14, 2022

 A Story To End All Stories


For a long time and nobody knows how long a time it has been a few people have been making up stories for everybody else.  Simply put, they are known as artists and the rest of us are not artists. We are relegated to positions of work without passion and jobs which will never satisfy us. These artists are owned and managed by men driven by the desire to accumulate money. They utilize banks. We are mechanical and the artists and business types are the living ones who think they ought to be fulfilled. The house always wins, you see? That is built-into the system. Why is that? Nobody knows. Let us look until we find out shall we?


In the beginning everybody was a story, complete and fulfilling in all its respects and I mean it. Humans discovered their food for the day, prepared and ate it together. It is a fact! I know this because I looked until I found it out. I observed myself. Truth is in you and in me. That is what I found. The truth. It came finally to me in the following manner.


Made conscious of the misery of all human beings at once I understood that misery to be me. It ended, me, as easily and as swiftly as it had begun and it had begun in human thought after the beginning.  Unified with all humanity, there was an immediate understanding that the real world was not made for a few but for all and on exactly fair and equal terms. Are you following this?


I hope you are. That is the purpose of my life. Once I found the truth outlined above I entered a new dimension of living unlike any I had known before. I say it this way only because I am using words to communicate to you this story. The story itself is something that has happened many times before and will happen again and again. It is timeless. There is therefore a timeless motion and you can look for it until you find it. 


All other stories than this one involved time.  Whenever time is introduced there is no love, no beauty, no freedom. No truth. Time is an element of a game, and no game is real. Adults taught you to play games to learn how to live your life as a game, not real. The not real life we have been living for a very long time is a miserable one. Many, nearly all, no, all people, even the winners, maybe more so the winners, suffer. The winners lose their privacy, their identity, their integrity, humility, compassion, innocence, love, playfulness and more.


The other stories introduce a child to a false world where only a few are to be viewed as having a good time. It had to be that way because the intention was to make people switch to a game world the gamesters could dominate and the house would always net a profit while the others mostly lose…all the time. That is a terrible idea but it dominates. It is a bully’s idea. And bullies are cowards.  


The criteria to be a winner in the game is an ideal of constant, uninterrupted competition with everybody else so competition is promoted with great vigor. The game is built around an array of awards and rewards that set the winners apart from the losers. Children are systematically hypnotized to believe the game is the real world as surely as famous hypnotists hypnotize volunteers to believe they are chickens! Look at your own life! See!


However my story to end stories is like pointing you to a switch in you which only you can reach which will put you into the genuine real world where life was not made for a few but for all and on exactly equal terms. There is really no choice for you to make. It is so clear. A world where only a very few can excel in the many areas defined as open to them and the rest are fans who desire to be celebrities is lousy when compared to a world where everybody, without exception, works with passion and compassion in a work that brings them pride and satisfaction and everybody eats.