Hypocrisy

I was visiting with Granny Applehead the other day.  She was waxing nostalgic about her days in secondary school.  She remembers each day began with students rising from their seats, putting hands to hearts and pledging allegiance to the flag.  No one really questioned the validity of the activity back then but, she said, as she thinks about it in retrospect it was pretty clear there was strong intention to instill in young minds a religious sense of nationalistic propriety: America, land of the free and brave has God on her side.

She surmised it was easier back then when everyone was pretty well on the same page regarding God and country.  There were a lot fewer people asking the big questions.

I guess explanation can be found in the post-WWII politics of the times and dealing with godless Communism.  You know, prep these young minds for Holy Wars to come.

Social critique has tempered the blatant flag waving.  The mind manipulation of the young is subtler now but it’s pretty clear we still think of ourselves as being in God’s favor; ready and willing to impose our beliefs and life-style on the rest of the world.

Granny just shakes her head at what she sees as the hypocrisy of our self-perceived sense of fairness and equality for all: as long as everyone conforms to our values and beliefs.

On my way home I was thinking about what the world would be like if everyone was like me: skeptical seekers, always questioning, investigating the new, comparing the old, reaching toward the limits of one’s capabilities to find what may lay beyond.  As egotistical as it may sound, I can’t see that as being a bad thing in the least.

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Complacency

I find myself wallowing in contentment these days; consciously maintaining a positive outlook, simply putting the negatives out of my mind.

Breathe deeply:  inhale, exhale.

Avoiding confrontation means avoiding interaction to a large extent; companionship is reserved for one or two close friends.  I follow the news but refuse to dwell on tragedy.  Like Emil Cioran says: better not to act; action can only lead to regrets.

So, I stand here, day after day, feeling the soft summer breezes, inhaling the sweet scents of garden flowers, listening to the optimistic bird song.  What could be better?

I refuse to allow myself to be upset.  Why can’t little Annie sing on key?  What is LeonardD doing with that power saw?  What if those neighbor children want to play with me?  They’re so rough.

Never mind.

I’m afraid I’m becoming complacent.  Nothing excites me.  I think maybe there’s a difference between the calm of a centered discipline and my near lethargy.  Perhaps it would be good to step into an uncomfortable situation; force myself to face phenomena that will upset me; get my blood (such as it is) boiling.  Maybe Nietzsche’s right: ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

Well, I’ll think about it.  I’m a bit drowsy; the gentle patter of the water fountain is very relaxing.  I’m not sure that I really need a challenge anyway.

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Born Again

For me, I don’t think there’s anything as energizing as the onset of spring.  As the temperature becomes mild, the birds began to sing and the crocuses began to appear I feel my spirits lift.  There’s a sense of rebirth in the air; life reappears after months of dormancy.  In some ways it’s like a religious experience.

My friend Pearl said this idea reminded her of an experience she had while attending a revival meeting a while ago.  She said the evangelist told the congregation that life was suffering because of the guilt of their sins and the only way to overcome the depths of despair, the fear and trembling of existence was to leap into faith and be born again.

Pearl thought about this awhile but being a bit of a skeptic and seeing rebirth wasn’t in her plans for the evening, she decided to pass on the leap and just deal with the despair and absurdity of human existence the best she could.

Well, all I can say is if our existence is essentially despairing and absurd then why do I have spring fever?

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The Big Picture

I’ve been thinking lately about the big questions: you know: why am I here, is there a purpose to life, does the fact my plastic body will never deteriorate mean that in some sense I’m immortal?

I know the ancients found answers in the stars and planets.  They used their relative positions in the heavens to predict what would be as well as what to do and when.  I guess they needed some assurance the universe wasn’t completely random; that there was a cosmic plan they could base their lives on that would ensure some stability and be some sort of guarantee that existence would be meaningful.

Later mystics organized the heavens into levels one could travel between by gaining secret knowledge rising higher and higher until one entered the throne room of God, where I suppose one could expect to gain a sense of the big picture, especially if God showed up.

I think if the heavens hold the answers, maybe we just haven’t arrived at the right place yet.  Maybe in some future rotation of the earth through the universe we’ll enter a rarefied atmosphere where everything will become clear; where we’ll know for certain whether God or chaos rules.

Well, I’m not waiting around.  I’ll center my mind, go with the flow, live my dreams and hope the ride isn’t too bumpy.

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walking on water

While checking out at the super market the other day I happened to glance over at the tabloids. On one, the cover story was, ‘Jesus doll walks on water.’  Usually I don’t pay much attention to these journals, the sensationalistic stories usually being so incredibly ridiculous, but this one caught my attention being about a doll and all.  So, I bought a copy and later when I had time, read that a young boy in Florida was playing with his Jesus doll beside a pond one day when the doll suddenly proceeded on its own impetus across the pond toward an old lady on the other side.  The doll, so the story related, moved up to and touched the old woman who was immediately relieved of the arthritic pain she had been suffering.  The doll then turned around and moved back across the pond to the little boy.

Wow!  There were pictures and everything.

As much as I enjoy a doll getting positive attention my skeptical nature questioned the accuracy of the account.  While dolls may certainly have independent natures, performing miracles, even for a Jesus doll, seems pretty incredible.  But, maybe where there’s a will there’s a way.

I think I’ll take a bath.

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Living Life to the fullest

Seventh sphere 3It’s time to challenge myself…………..It’s not like I’m bored; I’ve plenty to keep me busy and interested…..I just feel like I need stimulation; something to force myself out of my comfort zone, expand my experiences and live larger.

I’ve been contemplating my options: sky diving, bungee jumping and rock climbing all have appeal but I’m deathly afraid of heights.  I could go the social route and volunteer in the schools or nursing home but with all those rammy kids or blind old people I could easily get stepped on.

I think I’ll offer myself for adoption at the Salvation Army.  I know it’s a serious risk: who knows what kind of situation I could get in to, but I could make some little girl happy and in addition meet some new dolls and people.  If worse comes to worse and I end up in a dysfunctional family I’ll just remember what Nietzsche said: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Playing the Game

I feel myself falling into a rut lately.  The routine has become insufferable.  The days are passing painfully predictably: out of the box at 10, stand by the window, pose for a while, get leered at by that awful monkey and the other boring inanimates I am loathe to inhabit the studio with and, then, back in the box until morning when it starts all over again.  I won’t even go into the days I don’t get taken out of the box at all.  I’m feeling my life isn’t my own, that I’m simply a small cog in a big impersonal mechanism.

I guess Woody Allen’s right: all you need to do to succeed in life is show up….and play the game.  If only the bills needn’t be paid I would fly (figuratively speaking that is).

But certainly there’s relief to be had.  The Stoics recommend, when meaning in life is elusive, contemplating what it would be like if one lost what one had.  How much worse would it be without those small things we take for granted, like a nice cozy box……………..well, a cozy box is better than nothing.  I will try to be happy with what I have, the way things are…………….and I’ll sign up for flying lessons. discovering the mysteries 3

Thoughts of Death

Sometimes, in the cold darkness of winter particularly, I can’t help but think about how it’s all going to end.  It’s incredibly depressing to contemplate one’s own mortality; Even plastic breaks down over time.  I guess the fear of irrefutable extinction is what drives people to religion.  The hope for a beautiful afterlife must be a wonderful pacifier.  But what if the after-life isn’t so beautiful, what if it’s terrible, tortuous.  If I were to accept the premise that there truly is an afterlife how could I be certain I was headed in the preferred direction?  When I think about it, throughout history there are more depictions of Hell than of Paradise.

I read somewhere that one is born of nature and to nature one returns after death; seems sufficient to me. gatesofdis3