Who Are We? 

They are I and I am they.

I must be told that often it seems lately. No matter how much or in what ways they torment me…I am they and they are I. Funniest thing to me is that when I actually, fully and not partially, accept that as factual I am immediately absorbed into peaceful contentment. And, man, there is no other place to be suddenly stranded as lovely as that place! When here I never want to leave.  But I do. Leave it. Perhaps I do so for the sheer joy of returning to it. And another thing, the experience of being stranded here is so strange it feels like I am in the company of everybody…even those who are lost and forgotten or dead and those yet unmet also I am with. Although it requires no effort at all it is the only fulfilling existence I have ever known. But still I leave it. To try something new or different is what I tell myself but I think it is for the joy of returning we do it.

 WHEN AND WHAT HELP IS TO BE GIVEN ANOTHER?

I heard once on a TV show that a moth lives in a cocoon until time to come forth with its new wings to fly and to sew silk. Well, one seeing the moth working constantly to make its way out of the tough cocoon may decide to help and take out a knife and make a cut.  The result will be that the moth will not gain needed strength from the strenuous effort nature requires of it to come out from its cocoon when it is time for it to do so. It will die.

 GOING HOME

I am embarked on a journey back home. Wherever anyone asks me about it I begin here:  

“Why, do you think, would anybody bother to admonish another that only a fool reinvents the wheel? Why not mess around with their wheel?  It's damn sure broke. Begin from scratch. Make it up as original, all or any part of it. Not for somebody else though, for you! You may meet up with allies in places you least expect to find them and rediscover unexpected resources you tend to neglect.”

Don’t Miss it.

Swan River Theater Tonight!

 Autonomy The Kid

Does what he wants to.  

Takes orders from nothing but the voice of Liberty.

 Just too stubborn to be governed by forced insanity.

Most friendly fellow you 

could ever hope to see.

Likable, dependable

Helpful as can be.

Whatever he is devoted to he

Will always see it through.

And he’ll let you live your way
and asks the same of you.

The trouble people have with him is all imagined in their brain.

Loves children and animals.

Dislikes being locked up or wearing the ball and chain.

He’s the one you are drawn to when you need to be 

reminded: Clarify your brain!

                         

 Don’t Miss it.

Swan River Theater Tonight!

 The good life promised you by society

Is a fake life.

Wake up! 

And kiss the good life goodbye.

And do not listen to a voice telling you that it means you will now live a hard life as a starving peasant in the wild mountains with no bright light of elegance to elevate your understanding of the Universe.  No music. No art. No poetry. No science. No love. Those fake lives are only in a different place under different circumstances. The overlords tell the peasants better times are comin’. So, kiss the good life goodbye. 

 Look inside your own soul. There’s no clock in there!

There is no other in there!

 GROKKING

Excerpted from Mr. Tambourine Man:

Then take me disappearin’ through the smoke rings of my mind

Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves

The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach

Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free

Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands

With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves

Let me forget about today until tomorrow

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me

I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me

In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you

By Bob Dylan

This might be interpreted by interpreters as a drug song or it can be heard as a song of deep meditation which honors the listener by providing no method at all. In my own case I feel I finally invented my own world by the grace of a love that is beyond love. The word “grok” from the 60’s was helpful to me. It is a word that is to be used in the English language with care always remembering it is not “of” the English language. It’s an invader! An invader “from love beyond love”. You gotta grok It, (Wo)Man.

The informal verb grok was an invention of the science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein, whose 1961 novel "Stranger in a Strange Land" placed great importance on the concept of grokking. In the book, to grok is to empathize so deeply with others that you merge or blend with them. The simplest way to think of grok is as truly, deeply understanding someone or something. With any luck, you now grok the word grok.

You can appreciate the deeper message in the single line from Mr. Dylan’s song:

Let me forget about today until tomorrow

It goes beyond all limits of ordinary English and points the way to the timeless. Let me discover the gap that leads into timelessness and grok the immensity of a still brain.