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, September 22, 2016

Set Yourself Free


I just watched a documentary on Netflix that flatly makes the assertion that it is the role of a society to provide an environment that promotes the happiness and wellbeing of its members. This is typical today. It should be rare but it is the norm of thinking everywhere and the source of so much human suffering and depression, loneliness, and isolation. It must cease.

Society. What is one? Find one and bring it here and show us a society. Take its picture. Ask it to speak to us. If it lives it must let us know so we can ask it to do its job. We must hold it accountable. Perhaps we should pray to it? We need a symbolic idol to worship named “Our society”. Wait. We have thousands and thousands such things all around public gathering spots. They cost a lot of money but just stand there looking pretty. Normally they bear the carver's name. That's right! Should we hold the carver accountable for the failure of the symbol? They are made by the hands of a man or woman. Images. Powerless to raise a finger to help anyone, not even the pigeons on their bodies. And the flags! My God, the flags!

You get my point. This is really sad. It is a disgrace. It is humiliating to think we are so low in our understanding of the difference between the real and the unreal.

When will we learn that there are people here represented symbolically by words and sculptures and flags and address all our concern, every last bit of it, to the people who are present and alive? The word SOCIETY, even in all caps, is nothing but a symbol. It is a reflection of what is actual. The reflection has no life and no power. The power is in the people, you and me, brother and sister. We must arise and admit it.


If not, we go deeper and deeper into a fools world where it is said that you laugh but not all your
laughter, weep but not all your tears. We have such a miracle inside us as whole complete human beings. Let us make the shift to reality and replace the goofy symbols with real human effort and find out what we have been given. The reflection is not the real thing. Look in a mirror at your own face. Notice. Take up the reigns of your own life and live fully. Set yourself free!

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

A Former Lawyer's Brief Memoir

Remember, I’m countin’ on you to keep me out of jail, Harry remarked to me one
morning. I responded smugly. You are smart, Harry, to understand how useful a lawyer can be these days. Well, I’m lucky to have you lookin’ out for me, he said. Then he surprised me with these words.

            I had to step back. It took years to get it through my head the law serves to lay before the criminal mind reliable theories to facilitate the business of thieving. It is for convenience of the thief that laws are written, to make it feasible to practice corruption. Rules are the framework on which to weave a web of deceit. Regulations are the backdrop against which legal authority can be acquired to harm one’s fellows with a claim of right. And lawyers who write the rules break them best. Lawyers by definition partially administer injustice. I am glad to have one.

            Last year, the local University won a football championship and it was a widely celebrated affair. But I ask you…tell me…how do you suppose the administration of this large, crowded school went about the process of assembling players and coaches who could bring about such a mirage of superiority? How was it made to appear that this bunch of boys belong somehow uniquely to this University and deserve to be called “Champions”? What, in Heaven’s name, is the point? Is it to train the kids to manipulate rules as a way of life? Or, more to hypnotize the public into blind submission to a football system that produces economic wealth? Of course, it is both. And, where did the play go, I wonder? Can its football team really be proud of such a University?

           The inherent evil in any system of laws is the ten thousand systems concealed within every system that man creates. For instance, it has been applauded that a group of people in North America in 1776 desired to form an honest government of officials that would be answerable to those they serve, but look at the multitude of concealments that have come to light since the day that ideal took shape. Who claims now an honest government in America?

            Looked at closely, Americans had been pretending to serve King George who it was pretended was ordained by God Almighty to rule a false Britannia. With the stroke of a pen an imaginary leader told the Americans to believe they will now pretend to be free people. Pretense! How can anybody be so foolish as to believe a people who pretend to be free by creating a system of government with power to raise armies and to tax and to make laws to control them are free? How does that amount to freedom? There is but a simple and obvious reason people agree to this: lack of trust in themselves. The poor people believe if they were to be free they would be scoundrels, or worse, failures.


            There is a popular saying, With freedom comes responsibility. It is used by those who are given the responsibility to control the behavior of people who are supposed to be free, for example, school room teachers and judges. Have you considered the responsibility you owe to yourself? What if you knew that responsibility, the one you owe to you, is innately natural like the sweetness of an apple? What if you knew human nature to be good? If it were not so nobody would even consider the sound of freedom.

            And it may have been innocent enough when mommy and daddy decided to begin a family as they had been instructed to do but millions of books have written of the tragic consequences that have befallen the offspring of such a union and twisted them into unhappy adults. Looks suspiciously the same, no? Contrived as a system of government to control behavior it contains its own thousand clowns of evil. The ideal of fidelity creates infidelity. Laws facilitate deceit. Either you are a good person or you are not. Are you not even interested to know which?

            Every system thought up is immediately corrupt. There is no preventing it. See how the system is not less corrupt when this fact is exposed but ever more so. It seems publicity of how some scoundrels were caught holding the bag acts to encourage others to try their luck. Or maybe the cynicism that results from the impression that everybody is doing it provokes more of it. Fact is everybody is doing it. Fact is, every player needs his lawyer. Every husband and every wife needs a lawyer. One for each should come with the ceremony.


 It’s a sad thing to accept. Do you not see any hope? I asked. Harry put it this way.


It's up to each individual to choose, in his own time, to leave all systems behind. It is possible. I do not claim it is easy. Notice this is not a call to revolution. Quite the contrary, it is a call to cease all attempts to be free for all such attempts are idealistic systems with the nasty consequences we have already. It is a call to discover you are free. Nothing else is suggested.

            To know oneself. Self examination which leads to the funny brilliant recognition that as I am I am leads to an individual's own declaration of independence. The only one without hidden agendas. When laws and the crimes they define become irrelevant jails empty out on their own accord and peace prevails in the land. In the abyss each one who declares it to be so is his own authority, takes naked responsibility for his own truth, risks the moment, and shoos his own flies, calls his own dog, keeps his own counsel, accepts his own fate, blows his own whistle, draws his own conclusions, fights his own battles, sweeps his own side of the street, makes up his own mind, faces his own challenges, finds his own strength, stands on his own feet, answers his own question, has nobody to blame, and lives before he dies.

I quit.









Saturday, September 17, 2016

Anything is possible where allowing dirt to be 

born alive is natural. 


Allowing what appears to be stuck to dance is

mercy. 


Allowing what seems unredeemable to join in 

is forgiveness. 


Allowing what seems to matter to wave is 

love. 


Allowing what seems defeated to prevail is

glory. 

Allowing what seems to be frozen to melt is

a miracle. 


Allowing what appears to be starving to eat

is generosity.


Allowing what has died to be reborn is 

grace.




Spanish Translation:


Cualquier cosa es posible cuando la suciedad permitiendo que sea

nacido vivo es natural.


Permitiendo que lo que parece ser pegado a bailar es

misericordia.


Permitiendo que lo que parece irredimible a participar en

es el perdón .


Permitiendo que lo que parece importar a la onda es

amor.


Permitiendo que lo que parece derrotado a prevalecer es

gloria.

Permitiendo que lo que parece estar inactiva para fundir es

un milagro.


Permitiendo que lo que parece estar muerto de hambre para comer

es generosidad.


Permitiendo que lo que ha muerto al nacer es 


gracia.




Friday, September 16, 2016

The Title Of This Piece is For You A Secret

Jeanette Winterson writes about the ego as “that hollow, screaming cadaver that has no spirit within it”. Sexing the Cherry, at 105. That is the best I've come across. She wonders if that is what people who describe the search for God as a way to be rid of oneself are referring to, the ego. She writes that ego is the ideal self run mad. She likens it to searching for one thing and quite surprisingly finding another “in a garden somewhere or on a mountain watching the rain”. She points out for me that it is easy to lose oneself, and, boy, do I know that! So it is, I think, the ego we are better off without since that spells a sane self. She goes on to say that if the ideal self, the secret self, the other life, could be found and brought home a person could live in peace and have no need for God who has no need for us, being complete. That last statement may surprise with its tender, loving message left behind for all seekers to feel no matter how they conceive of a God. A relationship with the complete goes far deeper than need nearest to effortless culmination. I now call that love, or true love. My love waves and I wave back. I recommend the writings of Jeanette Winterson to all human beings who read.

So, I am left, myself, now, with the sense that it has all been a search for who I am, a discovery I have been driven insane left to live as a hollow cadaver with no soul, and finding a way to restore sanity to my true, secret self. I, of course, have no way to know how you, in secret, feel. Your life is your own. I feel a need to reach out to others and tell what I know. Recovery is possible. But, there is no formula for it. It is more undoing than doing, more unlearning than learning. So, I say look for writers and teachers who irritate you to undo you to unlearn. The one who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy. One who pulls you out of shit is not necessarily your friend.


In secret I find mercy and forgiveness enough to light the way.

Thursday, September 15, 2016


WISHES

You are going to feel foolish one day to arrive at the end of life with your bucket lists of wishes and your complaints only to discover what your inheritance had been that lay unopened or tossed in a bin.

Cynosure, a brilliant light of attraction has been yours. Cynosure, everybody wants one. Everybody needs one. Let anonymity be your cynosure and you cannot be stopped!


Your sinecure for life assured, a status requiring no effort or toil but providing adequate support for a lifetime lies in a safe no bank can rival. Christ told of it on the Mount. Consider the lilies. They toil not; neither do the spin and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these. Does your Benefactor love you not? You want to win a lottery? You won the day of your birth!

You are going to feel foolish one day to arrive at the end with your bucket lists of wishes and complaints only to discover what your inheritance had been that lay unopened or tossed in a bin as useless to you.


A candle unlit.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Planet Loco

People talk or write to feed each other. What? It has been special to me to have a friend who cannot share with me any words in my only language. Most friends talk very much. That is what people think friendship to be. Text. Email. Telephone. Facebook. Conversing.

Someone told me about a time when her mother died of cancer while she was pregnant with her first child. Many people said, both before and after the death, “I am so sorry for your loss. I know how painful it must be for you. Move to our neighborhood. We want to be close by to help you and care for you and the baby.” After the funeral, she said, not one of those people ever called or came to see her or gave any help. What kind of nourishment is that? Words of a learned language? Just words. It reminds me of the fisherman who pretends to feed a fish and his hook. Or the monkey who pulled a fish out of the water and placed it safely in a tree. Or a politician whose barfed up promises are leftovers. Or, teachers on the first day of class who know nothing but words, words, words, having never themselves lived. Or parents who reply, Because I said so. Or, religious clergy who tell us to believe them because truth is beyond our ability to comprehend. What world is this one? Surely, it is not the only one we can experience this life time. Is it?


Am I never going to meet anyone here who understands me? A clown standing in the moonlight upside down bouncing a globe with her feet winked at me and I interpreted the meaning as: there are more things here than you yet know.


Tuesday, September 13, 2016

MOMENTS


 This one moment we have and more than that if I find what lies inside. Carefully I abide. Not to startle any one or rattle the neighborhood. Only as a visitor come leaving no prints behind. Watch my mouth. Lips still. My fingers at my side. Teeth withdrawn. Muscles loose. Naked. No luggage. Ask deeply for a sign. No press. No fanfare. Not even a glance in the mirror. Erase all intentions. Nothing. Nobody sees me I am invisible. If I need protection it is given in stillness by the one who does nothing and leaves nothing undone. If I am to express the service it will be done. Touch no other and being certain to touch the light inside every one be out going as angels or knights are likely to be who see the invisible more clearly than they see what's gross. Sacred? Label me what is not sacred and I will tell you that your label is a lie. Layer upon layer of presence. This day two stood on a mountain before the same sky and thousands of words danced through each of them in two distinct languages and neither spoke a word and what was being felt being all they had to share they were as one who understood in a moment that was not what a moment is supposed to be but an epoch itself subdivided into ages of nonlinear chronostratigraphy wrapped around a flag pole, waving nothing.