A WHOOPER SWAN'S DIARY: 04/06/23

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!

Thursday, April 6, 2023

HERE, NOW

Explanations have been the boat on which to cross to the other shore. The man on the other shore says “There is no boat, cross.”

J. Krishnamurti.

Home is where you cease finally any escape. Mellow out. An empty MIND is full of energy. To be grounded in love’s way is the incorruptible wilderness. The outer wilderness has been corrupted by man. However, the inner wilderness is the incorruptible. Other notables have spoken of the no boat escape. What you are looking for is what you are. In the 1950’s I was a child and it was so popular then that movies tell of a gentle doctor, always handsome by popular standards, who carried a black medical bag he received upon completing a thorough education. In explanations.

According to plot, the handsome doctor traveled to a remote area on Earth where savages were the only humans that lived. Or, all people were savages there, strikingly unlike the handsome doctor with his bag of explanations. This was a setup. No what that is? It was especially effective with parents and their children.

At this point, there is no need to discuss yet the plot makers but I point out here that this was aimed at uncorrupted children. The point in time was believed to be the dawning of America, white America, as the dominate force of the whole wide world. The idea was that everywhere that was not America was inhabited by savages, and there was strong evidence to support this theoretical explanation in the aftermath of not one but two world wars in the first half of the century. A child like me was practically defenseless but not really for the simple reason that “there is no boat”. I was incorruptibly there, but did not know it…yet

Flash forward 40 years. After putting away my particular bag of explanations I was befriended by a desert in West Texas where the Rio Grande takes its mighty bend back to the north. At this place God apparently stored all the rocks left over from the Creation of Earth, metaphorically speaking. Walking alone there over a period of years it came to me that those stories of the handsome, gentle doctor with his bag were a complete hoax perpetrated upon kids. These corrupted kids grew up, rebelled, not aware of what for, then settled for what appeared to be the only opportunity available…the bag of explanations. Even Bob Dylan. In Bob’s case, he did all he could from the first to tell everybody he did not come to explain anything. He simply wrote songs and sang them, as a minstrel. What opened up in the desert written of here was the incorruptible wilderness within us all. You, the reader, for instance. Clearly was the corrupt plot seen. Not by “me”, the black bag of explanations, but seen none the less. According to plot, the handsome doctor always saved the life of the chief’s young son and was worshipped by the savages who had no black bag but wanted one now to replace the medicine man of the tribe. This “holy” guy was always ugly and bitter, according to plot. The explanation was that the sacred is a hoax! And a bitter one, too. Yet, it was suddenly clear to an empty mind in that desert that the plot ignored the fact! The fact is that NO BAG OF EXPLANATIONS EVER HAS HEALED A HUMAN BEING. The savage boy simply healed. And nobody knows what part the medicine man may have played in setting the scene for natural healing.

The first step in any hoax is to plant in the minds of people that they are separate individuals who want to cross a river of ignorance and will definitely need a boat. You can sort this out. In the first place, an individual cannot be divided. There is no river to cross and nobody to cross one. There are many types of desert. Remember, though, there are two ways to die in a desert..too little water and too much water. We need just enough. When that is our truth we harmonize with the incorruptible. You can sort that out.

At this juncture we are, hopefully, seeing together that what we are taught to believe is “wild” is not at all so, and what we are taught to believe is “civilized” is empty, meaningless chaos with very much suffering. We came here wild gods. We have settled for trivia. We say “have a great day” and we don’t mean it.