The Mechanical Life

As a younger man I was an addicted fan of football and especially the Dallas Cowboys. A young black player made a profound statement on television that shook my make-believe world to the core. It was on Super Bowl Sunday. The young man was Duane Thomas, who was to carry, metaphorically and literally, the Cowboys to victory that Sunday. The young Mister Thomas was asked prior to the start of the game by a commentator, “How does it feel to be in the biggest game of them all, “The Super Bowl?” The player paused and then replied, “Aren’t they going to play this game again next year?” 

That truth stuck in my brain and has remained all this time as a beacon home. 

I have seen for myself that anything done as a continuity is mechanical and is degenerative of the human body. A rut, it grinds away at the living organism. Going to the office every day for 50 years is so unnatural. Cleaning house in the same pattern and watching the children in a pattern of activities and driving them to their own assigned degenerative continuities is likewise. Playing a game season after season the goal of which is a make-believe championship was seen by a young professional player as a costly hoax if taken seriously. I ask myself, what, in our society, is not the same meat grinder? And is it not so that way of life is accelerating constantly? Look into it! It is sold to us as motivating us to further records and that that is progress. Is it? Really? Or is it a terrible form of meltdown into a dull and controllable hunk of dead or dying meat?

Who will have a better life? A mechanical robot with medals or a free human living in complete attention to the present moment deriving the benefit of all the moment has to offer unconcerned about a future? The answer is very important. Critical. Do not fail to consider this question from the point of view of the actual human being and the other actual humans he or she is related to in life. Ignore, if you are able, the point of view of a fictitious corporate system which organizes people in the fashion of robots. Who were the laborers who actually performed the holocaust?

 The New Human

Around me a whole new breed of people are here who live in a psychological world without past or future who are good at what they do but do it from something entirely different than the kind of people who have a past and a future. The ones with a past and future have inhabited Earth for a very long time and are compelled to explain and analyze what they do in terms of a system based in competition. The members of this new type explain nothing they do but offer comments like "we do what is the next thing up to do" and "we love what we do"..."we love each other"..."we read the whole field at once". 

 These two types are all bunched up together in various human activities. I suspect the ones without time actually get what the others are doing but have no interest in joining them and know they have no need to fear the ones who live in time but the ones with a past and future have no clue what the timeless ones are doing or how they do it or even whether they are doing things in a different way and still insist on explaining everything on the basis of competition. 

                                       

Writing this makes me laugh happily. There is something comical going on among these new humans who seem to say as they remain upright, calm, and on even keel: "I see what you do while considering a past and a future is mechanical and has you going nowhere accomplishing nothing whereas merely doing the next thing up is a wonderland open to that which is always timeless, new, and exciting and puts much less wear on the body!

 TWO OF ME

There are two of me. One a fact; the other but an illusion of who I am. These two are really not the same…not even close. The first we’ll call wheat. The other we shall call weeds. The wheat of my existence is the nameless fact. It is also undefinable and is not caused by nor can it be figured out by the weeds nor any set of them thinking, talking, or writing alike. The wheat must perceive itself. And it does. In fact, the wheat can only understand what has been written here if it knows itself to be a fact.

Even so, for decades of time I lived as the illusion, as a weed in an illusory world where weeds belong and wheat never will belong. How can an illusion ever even be actually present much less a leader of others? Whereas, wheat, a fact, is always present. All weeds are cunning enough to make it appear they are present and exist as separate persons with names and in relationship to each other. The selfish desires of these illusory weeds drive humanity on Earth. In a useless attempt to escape the terrible sorrow they constantly experience then impose on others, weeds living this illusory way have dreamed up gods, devils, angels, nations, enemies, marriages, families, and caste systems ranging from royalty to the lowest peasants, all of these as illusory as their makers. All these explanations made by thought concerning a world without a shred of existence bring more and more sorrow with every bit of temporary relief they offer. Falsehood is always loaded with side effects.

The weeds, although without existence in fact,  are cunning enough to realize that when the organism they house dies the brain will cease to think and they will end with the ending of the brain. They do not want to face death and their demise so they have invented by thought another world after death of the organism where they believe they will go and finally be happy. The other world has to be, of course, as illusory as the illusory weeds who invent it.

Time rules in the world of illusion. Every illusory weed from the richest to the poorest is striving to become over time something better.  However, the wheat, the identity of a human being as a fact, knows something that cannot be taught that makes all the difference. Nobody can teach anybody who is living in the world of illusion that particular know-how. Each weed has to find his or her own way out of illusion. This requires a very serious study of how the illusory self operates. It is necessary and possible to completely see what weeds are doing. The trickiest part of it is that the weeds are not troublemakers in the weed world at all, they are its leaders, the respected authorities who always promote other weeds to strive to become better over time. They use a system of reward and punishment to do so. And drugs.

Meanwhile, wheat knows it is already wheat and lives fully as that which it is in each moment. Time has no power over wheat. In this way a fulfilled life results. At death of the organism, the wheat is filled with profound gratitude. At death, for weeds, there is absolutely no meaning to or value in the illusory life they have suffered. They remain stuck with, “Well, it was hard and confusing but I tried.” 

The writer does not want the reader to agree with what is written here. The purpose has been to encourage a deep search within. And it must be stressed every weed is one’s own guru. Gurus are weeds. They want weeds to adjust to life as an illusion. Wheat will not even consider being a weed’s guru. It is that simple. 

This whole dialogue is based upon one thing- people invented with thinking symbols for some truth. Impressed with themselves, they began schools of symbols and soon forgot the truth. This is so of both science and religion. The new truth for people became its symbol. Why? For one thing, it is more convenient. Also, it attracts followers. Followers can be counted. Records can be kept. In Christianity, for example, people worship “Christmas” and pay no attention to the wordless truth behind it that every baby, however humble, is a savior of itself. Truth is a magnificent mystery and its discoveries great acts of purgation. Symbols are puzzle pieces that when put together amount to a totally meaningless symbolic gesture revealing nothing more than a hunger to control something-anything.

Successful hunting!

  

 A Story To End All Stories

For a long time and nobody knows how long a time it has been a few people have been making up stories for everybody else.  Simply put, they are known as artists and the rest of us are not artists. We are relegated to positions of work without passion and jobs which will never satisfy us. These artists are owned and managed by men driven by the desire to accumulate money. They utilize banks. We are mechanical and the artists and business types are the living ones who think they ought to be fulfilled. The house always wins, you see? That is built-into the system. Why is that? Nobody knows. Let us look until we find out shall we?

In the beginning everybody was a story, complete and fulfilling in all its respects and I mean it. Humans discovered their food for the day, prepared and ate it together. It is a fact! I know this because I looked until I found it out. I observed myself. Truth is in you and in me. That is what I found. The truth. It came finally to me in the following manner.

Made conscious of the misery of all human beings at once I understood that misery to be me. It ended, me, as easily and as swiftly as it had begun and it had begun in human thought after the beginning.  Unified with all humanity, there was an immediate understanding that the real world was not made for a few but for all and on exactly fair and equal terms. Are you following this?

I hope you are. That is the purpose of my life. Once I found the truth outlined above I entered a new dimension of living unlike any I had known before. I say it this way only because I am using words to communicate to you this story. The story itself is something that has happened many times before and will happen again and again. It is timeless. There is therefore a timeless motion and you can look for it until you find it. 

All other stories than this one involved time.  Whenever time is introduced there is no love, no beauty, no freedom. No truth. Time is an element of a game, and no game is real. Adults taught you to play games to learn how to live your life as a game, not real. The not real life we have been living for a very long time is a miserable one. Many, nearly all, no, all people, even the winners, maybe more so the winners, suffer. The winners lose their privacy, their identity, their integrity, humility, compassion, innocence, love, playfulness and more.

The other stories introduce a child to a false world where only a few are to be viewed as having a good time. It had to be that way because the intention was to make people switch to a game world the gamesters could dominate and the house would always net a profit while the others mostly lose…all the time. That is a terrible idea but it dominates. It is a bully’s idea. And bullies are cowards.  

The criteria to be a winner in the game is an ideal of constant, uninterrupted competition with everybody else so competition is promoted with great vigor. The game is built around an array of awards and rewards that set the winners apart from the losers. Children are systematically hypnotized to believe the game is the real world as surely as famous hypnotists hypnotize volunteers to believe they are chickens! Look at your own life! See!

However my story to end stories is like pointing you to a switch in you which only you can reach which will put you into the genuine real world where life was not made for a few but for all and on exactly equal terms. There is really no choice for you to make. It is so clear. A world where only a very few can excel in the many areas defined as open to them and the rest are fans who desire to be celebrities is lousy when compared to a world where everybody, without exception, works with passion and compassion in a work that brings them pride and satisfaction and everybody eats.

 NO PROBLEMS

Boy meets girl. Instantly there is a passionate moment of love. The boy thinks, 

“I desire this girl. I can have her if I am smart enough. Over time, I will court her until she realizes I am a good deal for her for life. Once she sees it my way she will accept my proposal and promise to be mine.”

His plan works. They eventually marry. 

What is unknown to the boy or girl is that their “deal” was the result of a very petty, restrictive, limited  plan to be brought about gradually, over time. It amounts to “I will make you mine by my  clever plan.” So, what they are entering is a mental image of a very limited nature based upon the ideal to gradually realize over time the fruits of a happy marriage. The marriage will be of the same petty, restrictive, limited nature and it will be drawn out, long, contradictory and quite boring. A happy union is born complete in the place within a human being where the passionate moment of love happens- inwardly- in the human psyche, where time does not exist. Always it is now in that place of timeless motion. The impossible is made possible. 

Love resides where there is no conflict of any kind, nor any jealousy or fear. Knowing that makes a marriage that is forever fresh and alive as the first moment. The moment time is introduced through limited thinking it is no longer possible to have a happy marriage. To be free of time between partners is key. The whole population of Earth can be happy together this way. It is a fact that when two or more end time within themselves they suddenly are much more intelligent and will solve any problems instantly by the goodwill abiding in love. Let us love one another.

“Thou leanest to the Shell of Night, Dear Lady, a Divining Ear.” James Joyce

 IF IT IS IMPOSSIBLE

There is no impossible…that’s just “I don’t know".

There is a narrow possible and there is an immense possible. 

So, if it is impossible, it is the unknown and that is possible.

Thinking in terms only of the possible is petty, small, very limited.

It is like choking oneself. And that is “possible”.  Nobody else need choke you.

 

 “I sailed my safe boat ’til I sank it”. 

 TWO HUMANS IN ONE BODY 

You can hear words spoken or read words written, and, depending on your understanding of the language, pick out a more or less clear message but the words you are  dealing with have meaning according to a dictionary agreed upon, more or less, by the society’s word police. Schools specialize in drilling this process into the brains of students mechanically. But the brains of the students of schools tend to become dull over time from being treated as machines rather than as living organisms, which they are. The magnitude  of what is lost is unknown. We know these dull-minded folks are manageable. Free-living humans, on the other hand, are unmanageable. And- listen to this-the process begun in school never ceases all the way through several advanced degrees and all the actual scientific work of the person on the same narrow subject and just how does that shape, or misshape a human brain? Plenty, I am afraid. 

By contrast, you may be outdoors on a walk or just sitting under a tree and hear a bird singing. Then you hear a second bird respond to the first one in conversation. In this way you, if alive, must gather a message which is beyond words invented by humans. It is certain, though,  that by the brain’s training beginning at school your brain will rather quickly begin a programmed response to the event inside your head using words. And yet the message beyond words is there and can still be accessed by the human as well along side the wordy dialogue. So, with a single simple happening in nature there are two messages received in the human and I ask you which is more vital? And further, is it important or necessary to store in the brain either of them?

One thing new has occurred to the writer of these words. Is it possible for a human to have a sufficiently still mind to find out for certain what, if any, use we have for a book of vague, contradictory and dead words arranged in the past? Does that not prevent anything new? Or, can we discover a proper and safe use for some words that is not so destructive to ourselves? For example, scientists, politicians, philosophers, religious orders and married couples, as we know, seldom agree. Conflicts will grow into wars. What if the battle of the sexes, as old as mankind, was created by words? Who knows the extent to which that battle has been corruptive of the children? 

Sincerely,

J Whooperswan