A WHOOPER SWAN'S DIARY: 05/22/23

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!

Monday, May 22, 2023

To Be,

Or Not

Must watch out for human motivation as one might watch out for a poisonous snake. Human motivation is poison. It is poison to living things. Poisonous to plants and animals and children and the elderly. Poison it is to all fragile and weaker living things. People have actually motivated right over these “things” just mentioned like someone plowing a field before planting…as if they are just a nuisance anyway. Just as if they do not belong. Without asking “Who am I to determine that anything here has no value?” If anything exists that is reason enough to recognize its value in the eyes of the force that made it. We have all seen it. We have all done it. Writing this brings the bright and clear understanding that the whole planet is one amazing creature and as such is to be honored…honored I tell you…as one. The air we breathe and depend upon for life is treated as filth by people every minute of every day now. What have we done ? What have we become? Idiots? Robots? Idiotic robots?

These are merely words…yet point to something deeper. What is it? For lack of some way other than words at the moment let us call it…love. But let us forcefully remind ourselves it is not the word l-o-v-e that we are concerned with. Stop. If I tell you that your motivation is a bad poison I just might be thought to be saying mine is not even if I am motivated to say it. Does that make sense? I am motivated to make sense. Is that love? Or, a concern of love? Is love real? Can the answer be known? Bob Dylan made up a song which repeats the line. “You Gotta Serve Somebody”. With that in mind it is possible to gain an insight.

Suddenly I see I am in jail. A different kind of jail. My own jail. My thoughts have me bound up and thinking put me here to live among other jailbirds. We all have motivations. In fact, that’s what this jail is… a place where motivations are all we do have. I want out! Another motive? Oh, Hell! Oh, dreary Hell!

This jail I am in is different. People here are of the opinion they are free. They are in jail but do not know it to be so. That’s important since a jailbreak depends on some change in the minds of the inmates. What is to bring that about is the question at hand. The change in mind brings immediate release without effort. It’s a different kind of jailbreak.

Look what I have gotten myself into here by being motivated to write. It is a hell of my own making and only I can undo it. And there seems to be no way out of this mess. My motivations, even the motivation to try to be free, are always going to bring more conflict and I cannot be free of them. Can you? None of this don’t make no sense. That makes sense.

An insight came. Motivation separates! That is my enemy? Separation? So, can there be motivation that not only does not separate us but actually unites us? I see beauty. Not the concept. Actual beauty is present. It is a real sensation. The sensation has me enthralled! It is my last hope to escape jail in Hell. I grab onto it with all my strength. I am committed! My only motivation is to follow that passion that beauty brought for me and trust the combination of the two knows the way to end separate motivation. Now passion, not motivated by me, is my king. I am filled. So simple. I need never be without this great new freedom. It is what I am. Truly, there is nothing to live up to and nothing or nobody to please. For the first time I am one with the whole Universe where nothing is not me.

Maybe the point never was that people of different colors learn to live together in peace. (By different colors it is intended to cover all possible differences of every kind.) Maybe the point was and always will be that just two people do it. Then, by jove, everybody else drops dead and the colors no longer make a difference. So far, the rest just keep killing that possibility of the two becoming one but the committed must try and put an end to trophies, relics, souvenirs, and memorabilia.