I am reading a small book by Larry McMurtry entitled  Crazy Horse. Only about 150 pages it seems to me the author accomplished what I would have thought impossible by presenting a reader with a biographical work which makes the characters not to be read as worthy or unworthy performers in an historical account but to be met up with as the real people each must have been. It leads me to say that we, all people, are like droplets in a body of water flowing and no drop is more or less important in the description of how the river flows. It flows as it does. McMurtry’s book shows the human race of people go as the composition of its droplets, taken together, move it along. People treat each other very badly. Attempting to explain who are the important players (droplets) is as ridiculous an undertaking as the ranking of droplets in a body of water. It’s a whole body of humans. Those few droplets of human consciousness who are the stuff of myths are inevitably the very ones about whom almost nothing is known, the mysterious ones, who honor something unspoken which reminds me that anonymity is a powerful reality. 

I was tickled to learn that when complete, if ever it is, the statue of Crazy Horse in the Black Hills of South Dakota will be the largest sculpture ever made on Earth thus far. McMurtry writes that for all such as Crazy Horse “fact withers in the heat of myth”.  And that short sentence is the vitality of “myth” itself. A history book of “fact” is always untrue. Crazy Horse, unlike Sitting Bull, did not escape into Canada when it looked inevitable that whatever they have to do the White Men will do to take all of their homeland: and with it the right to exist. Jesus did not escape his arrest and execution. Billy the Kid did not run from New Mexico to save his life. Perhaps they just did not want to leave home. Therein is a taste of what is meant by 

“there lies something before us and in us unseen that transcends thought” 

Could it be the reality of one, indivisible human consciousness? Until that is grasped we humans remain but a conflicted, confused, lost and selfish lot separate and unnaturally lonely in the river of life, killing our own. How can one learn what the water is like? Only by jumping in!