A Penchant For Trouble

As a wee lad, he was always getting into things. His parents and siblings tried to keep him in check but it was a constant struggle. If something could be found to mess with, he would mess with it, he would find a way. 
In school he was, like me, a frequent member of detention hall, Junior High and High School's version of community service/jail, but being there only sharpened his skills at disruption and did not make him in the least bit any less incorrigible. 
     By seventeen, after foolishly being involved with a group of others in a spur-of-the-moment convenience store robbery, he found himself in a real jail, a juvenile facility, which changed him. When he was let out people that knew him saw that he had hardened and talked about it amongst themselves. Though he himself never talked about his experiences inside what happened in there had had an effect and it wasn't a good one. My sense was the experience had caused him to severely distort reality in order to cope. 
     Early adulthood found him struggling, but, as usual, he did so on the fringes of society, which was the only place he could ever fit in. He was destined to dwell there, it seemed, for there was no other setting in this world in which he could conceivably fit. Once an outsider, always an outsider. 
    I ran into him less and less as I turned from a teen into an adult. We had been frequent companions in our formative years for we had grown up only doors down from each other. I knew he had a turbulent home life and that his father and him clashed regularly (and mightily) but rarely was I a guest in his house, a place he tried to stay out of as much as possible. 
    After he turned say, maybe mid-twenties, I never saw him again but occasionally reports would surface from those in the old home town that he had been spotted. 
    I sometimes wonder about my neighbor, my childhood friend, how he's fairing, how his life has turned out. I wonder if he is even still alive for I do not know. His is a sad story, or at least it was. I hope he found happiness somewhere along the line.

Laughing about his latest escapade

Micki Spollen- Unsplash.com

There are people you know that are like this one, I'm sure of it. Trouble bound. Nothing you do can get them to avoid their destiny, even though you try, but you can't contain people, corral them, or keep them jailed. You can have an intervention if you want and maybe even try and forcibly re-educate them but with these kind it won't take. I know. I tried, as did many others. Even so, I knew with this one that I had a role to play in his life for I had a memory of me and him, one that went way back. We were pirates together in a past life off the coast of North Carolina in the late 1700’s and during a storm he was swept over the rail and drowned. I tried to save him, and came pretty close to doing so, but just couldn't get to him in time.

My job in this life was to see to it that he survived into his twenties, and this I accomplished. I acted as his guardian angel, perhaps one of many. I looked out for him, tried to keep him out of bigger trouble, counseled him at times, was there for him if he needed me and he knew that, I think, because he trusted me, trusted my view on things. I never chastised him or condemned his actions, only offered guidance. There was really no other way to reach him. 

He was a fun fellow. A lot of people really dug him. He had a wild sense of humor and drew chicks with his good looks and daredevil undertones like moths to a flame. 

I never told him that I knew him from before, he wouldn't have understood that, so I kept that to myself.

Better that way.

Opprobrium

(From Websters: Opprobrium- A. 'Public disgrace or ill fame that follows from conduct considered grossly wrong or vicious'. B. 'Contempt, reproach')

I sat at the feet of the master, a great writer who could use such a word in a sentence. I asked him "How do you do it?
      Awaiting his sage advice, ‘sage’ being another word I'd heard him use recently in reference to wise beings- or was it the other way around, he using it to diss' wannabe sages?-, he looked skyward for a moment, then off to his left, then on a downward slant from there. He was 'in his process', and I studied his moves for clues. 
"I don't know" he replied, after some bit of pause. 
  "You don't know?!" I rejoined him. "How, then, can I learn?"
  "You must go there” he said, looking up to his left again and pointing skyward with a bony index finger, sure to have been turned that way over decades of scribing. 
   “Where?”
   "There, into that realm where thoughts appear and assemble themselves"
    "I’m not following this. You are pointing into empty space"
    "Yes. Have a problem with that?"
    "Uh, Yeah. Aren't there actual steps that writers use, outlines and plots and uh, whaddya call them....."
    "Storyboards?"
    "Yeah! Storyboards! The whole thing is thought out, worked out, beforehand. Honed and crafted in intimate detail. I've studied the processes of some writers. Didja know that the guy what wrote the 'Jeeves and Wooster' series laid out the plots of whole books on meticulously written notes that he posted along the walls of his study?"
“That wrote Jeeves and Wooster".
  The master offered a correction to my attempt at style, which I nodded to, before continuing.
  "And that Agatha Christie put her murder mystery stories together by knowing how the books ended first? It seems that the best writers think it all out before they even sit down at the typewriter. Is that how you do it?"

He’s asking me to take the red pill!

Markus Spike- Unsplash.com

I thought it hardly my place to question the master's process but my eagerness came from hoping he would shed some light on it. To this end I simply found myself unable to restrain myself. He turned his kindly gaze away from me and stared up and to the left, into space again. Seemed he was searching for something. 
"I follow no such process as you have described. I put the book, the article, the short story, the piece, the poem, together in my mind. Then I sit down to type"
"How can that be? How can that be so?" queried I in desperation. I searched the master's eye's for hints of jest but found none. "It seems highly improbable, not to mention impudent, to rely solely on memory, prodigious as yours may be, to offer up words that way!"
     "Who said I memorize them? There is no need for that"
    "But... ...where.... uh.... ...whu... ...how are the words stored? And in which way do you retrieve them? I.... "
    "Can't go there? If that's what you're thinking, and I'm sure it is, you are correct in your assumptions. It makes no logical sense"
    "Are you channelling?”.

I had to ask this question, for it seemed to be the only other thing that could be happening. The words must be coming from another, in another realm. 
    "I don't know"
  "There you go again!" I cried in dismay. "I can't help saying that for you are being no help to me at all!"
    "That is your lesson for today then!" said the master. “Writing makes absolutely no sense. How the words are formed, where they are stored, all of it. There is no 'container' called 'the mind' that anybody can find or see or study. But then, it is like everything else we do, in that what we do lacks a container from which it springs! Speech- where does that come from? Sight? Smell? Touch? We take these abilities for granted yet are unable to pinpoint their sources. Science will say (haughty and somber tone of voice) "Neuro-receptors and synapses and such are the places where thought and all the rest takes place" and from a scientific point of view that may very well be but it's kinda dry, don't you think? Takes all the mystery out of it, as if we were machines that run on parts and if you take enough of a machine apart you can back-engineer it to figure out how it works. Well, if that was so they would have been onto something but (looking around) I don't see any robots with highly developed human qualities yet"
"You don't read much?" I offered up, again hoping not to offend. "There's A.I...."
"Yes of course I read" he retorted, but kindly (THANK you). "Where do you think I get all those big words from? I see other writers using them and cop their stuff"
"No!"
"Yes! Everybody plagiarizes. It can't be stopped. I steal your stuff, you steal mine, we circulate ideas and concepts and slang words- especially slang- in that way. Now where were we?"
"Your process. How it's done. I need specific guidance. A book. A course. A writers group. Feedback. Mentoring. Will you be my mentor?"
   "I certainly will not! Mentoring is the worst thing for somebody like you! You'll spend a lot of time trying to write like your heros, in their style, and then years down the road you will find your own voice. Happens to most writers. I can offer you a shortcut, if there's any wisdom at all that I can impart. Just write! Find your own way! Express what's in your soul begging to come out. It's there. If it wasn't, you'd be wanting to do something else, like learning how to play the tuba! When something calls to you, where do you think that comes from?"
"I don't know"
“Nobody knows why they do what they do. All they know is that they can't help doing it! Simple! Life is simple!”
"Well, when you put it that way.... ...I can see how it makes sense"
"People weren't meant to ponder their futures forever, or for like what seems to be forever. Life used to be too short for that. But now they have all this free time and a buncha choices and they get locked up in indecision. 'Just Do It'. Now there was an ad campaign".

I left the master's abode shortly after our exchange and went out into the neighborhood, walking some to re-establish my energy, for his presence had been strong. "I know" the idea came to me out of the clear blue, "I'll write a thing called 'Thought Of The Day'"

Now you know.

"As Is And Ever Shall Be!"

So came the decree from King John. All peasants would now tithe a portion of their yield to the Crown. 
     This did not sit well with Robin of the 'hood, for he envisioned a greater portion be his, all of it. 
     Upon this point he made a vow. "No king or his men shall from me take that which I have rightfully earned in order to live in lavish castles, surround themselves with shapely courtesans, engage in further enriching trade, and finance wars with France and other faraway places"
       Unfortunately for Robin, the king and his men ruled the fields and villages, where crops could be planted and families raised. Robin of the 'hood had to take to the forest. 
     But only temporarily, for he did not think he'd last long. His aim was he would live it up while he could. His exploits there were not the first, but just another example of guerrilla warfare. 
      He, from his lair, raided the king's stores and distributed the goods therein, and gleefully so, to other peasants, who certainly could have used a little bit more. 
     This did not sit well with the king. He commanded his men to enter the forest, seek out Robin, and bring him to 'justice'. 
But the king's men were not the best paid and so some of them took up Robin's cause, which exacerbated the king's conflict with Robin and threatened to turn it into an all out war that might threaten the throne itself. The king's position was not yet dominant throughout his realm and he could ill stand to have his men uselessly searching for bandits in the forests when he had enough trouble keeping the peace in the villages and towns. 
      Enter a common sense guy, perhaps the laid back ‘cuz of the mercurial and driven Sheriff Of Nottingham. He reasoned with the Sheriff to negotiate with Robin but the Sheriff would not budge. 'Twas the Sheriff's mistake. 
       Robin became celebrated and legendary, the Sheriff (and King John) his frustrated foils, and that's kind of how the story ends for even back then there was huge income inequality. 

Border of Sherwood

Ricardo Cruz- Unsplash.com

       Fast-forwarding to this day, this time, this year, we can see that income inequality is not so much changed from the days of olde. We have, while not lords and ladies, personages holding vast sums of treasure which could be used to 'alleviate the suffering of the masses' but instead, those at the top of the heap, if you want to call it that (it has to be called something) have directly or indirectly, through their efforts at gain, actually enriched the masses beyond the wildest dreams of any peasant tilling the soil around Sherwood Forest. 

It is said that at one time chocolate and oranges were delicacies reserved for royalty. Imagine that. 
We have more stuff, more food choices, and far better living conditions than the kings of times past, yet that stubborn income gap remains. 
  It's all relative, though, isn't it? So what if LeBron has 140 million laying around in his crib? I've got Netflix, oranges, and chocolate, and I can binge watch shows that hordes of actors, writers, producers, and directors have created for my viewing pleasure, 
  I've got internet that can give me the street view of some random town in the U.S., and some countries in the world, with more countries to come,
And I can travel. For godsakes, how many lifetimes did I spend stuck in some town or country with no knowledge of the outside world?
    Yet the income gap remains. The 'peasants' are not yet free. 
     And until that gap is closed, until the classes meet, there will always be discord, wanting, and aching desire, because those 'peasants' aren't dumb animals, they’re people that dream.. True, their dreams may be dulled by the conditions that they are subjected to, have been subjected to, but.....they're humans. You can't deny that. 
    The powers that be treat this as a condition of life, a situation out of their control, a problem unable to be solved, a goal to aspire to, a task yet undone, an accomplishment for those in the future, and still, the income gap remains. 
    Never a hot topic, this one. Let's shelve it until next year, next session. Business has to be attended to. Forever. 
    Ok. Perhaps we set a standard of living then, one that is mandated for the populace? This is being tried out in some countries right now. The bone of contention with this concept is that if people don't have to work, they won’t. Is this true? A certain percentage of people seem to instantly go on the dole like they've just arrived in heaven but the others want to contribute somehow, someway, but not in the way they used to. This groundbreaking idea will take further thought, further tweaking, but it appears to be workable. 
    If people are given a set standard of living, one where not just survival needs (welfare) are met but where they are 'comfortable' (that level being agreed upon not by politicians but by The People living under those conditions) and it then becomes their choice to go for more, would that be an okay solution to an ages olde problem? If Joe over here is happy with his lot, whatever that may be, and Jane over there is the same, they could hardly be said to care much about what else goes on in the world. I guess that would be called living in peace.

I saw this on my travels. Most people are happy when they are left alone to do what they want, and what they want is pretty simple and satisfying stuff. Friends, family, some money but not a lot, enjoyable work. That is what seems to be universally important. 
    So, Income Inequality can still be and those that want wealth can have it, but no more guerrilla wars or anything like that to bring the peasants past the place of yearning. 
    Is this do-able? Now? It's already done for a fair percentage of the population. No king could ever imagine loading a package of Chicken Cordon Bleu into his microwave at home that he just bought at Costco and we don't have to have the troubled and ambitious staff at Downton Abbey setting our fireplaces and arranging flowers on the damn dining table in time for the master of the house's dinner- 
-but we also can't push the bottom percentile under the rug like we could back in the day and just forget about 'em. That's unconscionable anymore. 
Just sayin'.

Ministry Of Antiquities

With a sweep of his hand, my guide bade me enter.
"Here at the museum" he began, "we have artifacts from across many cultures and times. We have tried to recreate for our patron's viewing pleasure, in the guise of dioramas, or 'scenes', if you will, what life looked like during the times depicted. We have Stone Age man, Iron Age man, depictions of Viking life, of Conquistador domination, of The Cherokee walking The Trail Of Tears, and many others". 
     "As you can see, our choice of exhibits is very eclectic!" 
     "We have a diorama of a DJ sound booth from 1967, one of a car hop/drive in from the same period, one of a row of telephone booths, another depicting the food choices of a typical grocery store in 1975, and, as we move forward into modern times, we can see many of the old technologies that were in use then fading away, except for the ever-useful automobile". 
     "Tracing its history is best left to those who preserve such Pieces D' Arte. Actual rolling stock is the preferred method, rather than static display". 
     "Over here in this section we have clothing worn by hippies of the late 1960's, topcoat and wide-brimmed hat menswear from the 1940's, glamorous womens' wear from the same period, but unlike everything else we have on display, clothing, strangely, is the one thing that seems to have devolved!" 

Loud, but not elegant

Mariya Georgieva-Unsplash.com

     "People back in the day adorned themselves, if they could, with the highest quality fabric available, and the most colorful. Great care was taken in the manufacture of clothing. Rank and status within the community was made clearly evident". 
    It was at this point that my museum guide let out an involuntary sigh. "I have to show you what was, so that you can fully comprehend the tragic turn of events. Come along. This way"
We wandered through a great hall where the accouterments, the clothing worn during each and every age known to man, was presented. Peasant and farmer wear was rough and drab, as was the garb of the miner, but this only because they had no money to afford better. It was amazing to see what passed for everyday street wear amongst the middle classes in the 20th century. Even way back in 1910 efforts were made to distinguish oneself from the grimy laborers all around. My guide then led me into the clothing choices of the present, a new exhibit that the museum had just opened. 
  Here on display was a seeming mockery of the efforts of those past, those who had tried to elevate the human condition. There were dockworkers T-shirts, all manner of blue jeans (formerly called dungarees, worn only by common laborers), and shoes of neon green and florescent orange. Colors screamed and clashed, mismatched outfits appeared to have been purposely thrown together, most of what passed for hats looked crude and cheap, and none of the clothing was tailored. Women wore utilitarian black tights over which some sort of top was chosen for the day, apparently from an inexhaustible selection, and men wore cargo shorts as a rule. "I've seen enough" I cried to my guide, while shielding my eyes, aghast at the lack of elegance on display. "I need see no more!"
He quickly led me back to the 1940's section, where I was able to recover over thirty minutes time, before being led out of the museum a bit later.
      On my drive home I was able to again withstand The World, for I have been hardened. Still, I thought about what I had just been exposed to. Gone are the days when fashion meant looking like- how can it be put? Like you lived in a castle, or a mansion. Nowadays it's all designed for comfort, 'breathability', 'loose fit', and when it comes to colors, anything goes. While I agree that comfort and fit is important, and that new clothing technology should by all means be employed- or at least tried out (nothing I know of yet beats good ol' cotton for comfort)-  there is no sense of 'look' anymore. Like the wildly different hairstyles people nowadays are oh so casually sporting, let's throw all the ages of man together in a crowd! 
     Thus it is with amazement and amusement that I observe the passing fashion show at my airport job. Lots of people look like they just got offa the sofa and onta the plane so when somebody actually shows that bucks that trend, really puts some thought into their outfit and wears it with an attitude of haughty disdain for the mundane clothing choices people have made all around them, I say "Bravo! Bravo, citizen! I celebrate the fact that you, out of this horde of commoners, showed up!" 
"I know your outfit makes you stick out like a sore thumb, draws a lot of attention, and calls for bravery galore but yeah- doesn't it make you feel good to look around and think “Not a shlub! Not today!”

Foundation

  Another dry treatise this is not. Let's make it fun.
Upon a foundation a structure is built, and that foundation better be strong and level or the structure will fall, or whatever is built within the structure will tilt, lean, and sag. Any carpenter knows this, any concrete worker, any installer of windows or doors. That foundation better be straight and level. 

San Francisco is like this

Yunqing Leo- Unsplash.com

     The same is true on the spiritual side of life, which is all life. It runs on an even keel. There is no room for error in the blueprint. There is a plan and that which unfolds follows a pattern. This is a dry treatise, isn't it?
    (Sorry. Have to illustrate the point) 
The foundation never varies, tryin' to say. But that which is built upon the foundation can be, could be, and is anything. 
    Now whether it lasts is due to the builder, for each builder creates differently. There are things constructed that stand the test of time, and there are things constructed that don't. Yet the foundation stands unaffected. What is this foundation?

The foundation we're describing could be thought of as the 'Laws Of Physics', but it is actually more than that. This foundation is that which keeps the laws of physics intact, in this realm, in this dimension, for the laws of physics here are not the same laws that apply in other places- which are impossibly far away and wouldn't make any sense to you if you were able to go and visit them. So let's stay here.
     Here, the laws of physics are based on that which is called 'love'. Love is the constant, the foundational principle. All that is aligned with it stands. That which is not aligned with it crumbles. Over time, it crumbles for that which is contrary to the laws of love cannot rest upon its foundation, that foundation being constructed upon the principles of allowance, harmony, and balance. Simple concepts, but precise in their manner of expressing.

Wow now that’s a bouquet.

Thomas William- Unsplash.com

Let's not get too obtuse.... 
    Some would say that love is a pushover, that it actually means that anything goes, is allowed, like an ever-forgiving mom or dad. Not......!
     Within the parameters of the energy of love is a vibration which, like a magnet, draws all into compliance with its energy. But the energy of love doesn't forcefully 'override'. It compels, draws, beckons, and entrains. Things naturally fall into alignment with this number one force in the universe and that's why all else that is built that might appear to stand contrary to the force of love stands only for for a time. It eventually will succumb, for love is all. Its qualities are paramount.

Left Lane Larry

Woke up in the morning and slammed an energy drink, then, late for work as usual, hopped into his ride and tore off through the neighborhood. Mary Jane Collins, walking her dog, saw him coming and gave him wide berth. Percy Pendergast, taking out the trash, remembered the day that Larry knocked over his trash can, and Reginald Dobbs kept close eye on his kids, heading out the door to walk to the school bus stop, as Larry roared by. 
    Inside Larry's ride multitasking was going on. A lit cigarette in one hand, cell in another, he was having a lively conversation with one of his buds as to which the contracting job he was going to be needed at today as there had been some last minute changes in plans. An alternate job site was decided upon, which got Larry a little bit riled. 
     Accessing the secondary road that led out of the 'hood, Larry wavered a bit in his lane, which caused approaching cars to slow, and then wouldn't you know it, I appeared, pulling out from a side street about a mile into Larry's route. Looking in my rear view I saw Left Lane coming up fast, until he completely filled my field of vision. His agitated gestures were all I needed to know to bring it home to me that staying in front of this guy was going to be a problem, and it was, as I wound down the curvy two lane that led to the main highway. There was nowhere to pull over to let Larry pass, and he kept tight to my bumper the whole way, causing me to fixate my attention on the road ahead and not on my cupa Joe, which was threatening to spill in my left hand as I was turning the wheel tighter than normal into the corners with my right. He must’ve been able to (again) read my “Why you no get up earlier?” bumper sticker. 
    Finally reaching a place where I could pull over, I did, crunching and bouncing onto some gravelly shoulder. Larry waved to me as if we were old friends, which we aren’t, and flew on by. I could see him pulling up tight behind another neighbor just before they hit the highway, and then after that I lost sight of him. 
     I thought how wondrous it must be to be able to set my own speed limit on a daily basis for I had run into Left Lane before and he had always been going ten or more over, while I plodded along, comparatively. Why, I could shave ten minutes a day off my commute, were I to drive like him! Over a year’s time that would be like getting an extra day!
     Upon reaching the highway I slowed at the Yield sign there until I saw a place to merge, which turned out to be a temporary gap within a pack of cars, all these being driven by compadres of Left Lane Larry. There was Rockin' Rodney, Ragin' Rick, Flip-Off Fred, and Loopy Lisa, amongst others, all of them coming up tight on my bumper with a look of disgust and contempt, only tolerating my laggard pace before they could join their more aggressive kin in the left lane. I was hugging the right lane, doing a little over the limit but the left laners stuck in the right for the moment would have none of that. Doing the limit was for less privileged citizens and these folk were of the preferred class. Unbeknownst to me, special dispensations had apparently been granted by The State, for all around me left laners were en masse heading for their jobs and the forces of containment were noticeably absent. 
Thankfully, I was relatively unmolested during the greater part of my commute, save for an instance when some idiot erroneously acquired the left lane and would not appease the true left laners behind him, instead plodding along at near my pace and instantly creating a rolling roadblock. This developing situation posed grave danger as the left laners would have none of it and would periodically swoop into my lane in an effort to pass the clueless moron that was denying them the freedom to go at whatever speed they chose. I decided to pull back some and create a greater gap so the frothing stack of left laners could get around dufus.
This gave me time to again enjoy my commute. As I watched the left laners doing their NASCAR passing moves around the hapless and terrified right laner now stuck in the left, I wondered how driving had become such an obnoxious burden that people would do anything to avoid being in their cars. Hadn't automotive designers seen to their every need? Drivers now had music galore, navigation systems, power everything, precisely controlled interior temperatures, and amazingly plush seating. Cabin sounds had been so taken out that driving in a modern car was like sitting in a La-Z-Boy at home, yet people would still do whatever they could to cut their time behind the wheel to the absolute minimum.  

   And so it went, all the way to my job, and around town, when I went to do errands later. Just another day in which encounters with Left Lane Larry and his kind were road hazards to avoid at all costs. 

Good off road tires you got there, Lefty

Rod Long- Unsplash.com

I never thought I'd welcome self driving cars but, you know, when those things appear, and The State says they can ply the roads, those damn computers what's drivin' 'em ain't going to see a difference between the right lane and the left on a four lane highway and if traffic conditions are dense, they just might hog the left lane. And if they're on a two lane road, they'll go the speed limit and not a mile over. What is Left Lane Larry going to do then? Take to the shoulder?

Inspirion

(As was received….. ….with the usual corrections here and there. Hope it helps. The Author.)

      Don't be dissuaded by the naysayers of the world that say this or that can't be done for it all can be done. After all, you are the masters of the universe- in training. 
     What else would be the purpose of your existence? You are not here to while away your days in comfort, though many of you try, seeing that as your highest goal. Rather, instead, uhm... ...how can this be put? "Let's get real". Put away all the half-baked notions of why you're here and what's it all about. Isn't it sort of obvious? You're the most fragile creatures in a physical world, you're barely self aware and incapable of survival when others are very aware and self sufficient at birth (or very shortly thereafter). Added to that, you alone out of all of the other life forms actually take the time to read books and study, which none of the other life forms do. They learn through direct experience and play. 
Yeah, they eat raw meat and other disgusting things but that's why you're here. To learn from them, for they have a secret to share with you about your place in the order of things, in the cosmos. 
     That aside, which is frightfully deep, thank God that your understanding of this takes place over time (and hardly in one lifetime). You come back again and again, building your skill set, like in University. The goal is not so much to produce highly trained specialists but instead well-rounded grads who take their higher education out into the world (and eventually, the worlds), using unique and individually gained knowledge for the betterment of all. 
     Why else would you be here? To game the system, retire at thirty, and die a premature and purposeless death due to over-consumption of some kind or another?

“Hello. What? You’re not telepathic?”

Marek Szturc- Unsplash.com

     The happiest people in this world are the ones that give back. It feeds their soul. As well, it gives them something to do! Balance is then achieved. Lopsided lives, well, they can be fun for awhile but they're ultimately lonely and sad distortions of the truth of being. But how are you going to know all that? By experience! You don't have to eat badly prepared food if you don't want to, and you don't have to play out any experience until the bitter, scandalous, or noxious end. You can give up the wrong road at any time. Not by retracing your steps back to the beginning but by choosing to step off the path you're on for another. 
     It really is that simple. 
    Life was never meant to be complicated. Only mankind has made it so. Flip the channels on TV any night of the week to find any number of preachers instructing their students, many of whom are grown adults, on how to live. Still! 
     Listen to the nudges of nondenominational Spirit when all around you is confusion and your mind can't figure out which way to proceed. Spirit will never steer you wrong because Spirit only has one agenda- returning you to wholeness by the most direct route possible. But don't worry- there's no set time frame on finishing the curriculum.

If you want to linger somewhere(s) along the way, fine! Slow learners won't be penalized by having to take out student loan after student loan as all tuition is gratis and course materials are happily provided. But just be aware that since everything is connected, students that have chosen to advance have affected the vibration of the whole and are quickening things and that is occurring now. Wallowing in ignorance won't serve you as much as it once did. Be thankful that the process occurs slowly and allows for that, greatly has allowed for that, but comes a time when enough people wanna get on the train that leaves Disfunctional Town.

'Hotels' Everywhere

  Netflix has a new show out called 'Stay Here' in which a savvy property surveying team comes to your hoped-for internet rental property, situated in a desirable location, and fixes it up, spruces it up, guts the interior, spices up the exterior, rips out the old, installs the new, meets with the property owner and lays out the income potential, shows them how to market the property, wraps the process up with a glamorous walk through and then 'Voila!" a star is born. 
     Featured on the show I watched was a houseboat located in some slip near downtown Seattle and a property on the sandy beach in Malibu. Of course the owners were thrilled to have the A Team come in and help them out, probably gratis, I would think, in order to be featured on the show. 
   Yes, folks, the future is here. Whereas before hotels were limited in location, now they are not. Is this a good thing? Who cares? Whenever something is featured on TV it means it's the hot new thing, and like a juggernaut that concept is rolling, opinions pro and con not mattering because there's a big enough audience for it.  
Already in San Francisco and Amsterdam and other places where you'd be hard pressed to find digs anywhere near the coolest neighborhoods you can now just stroll right in like a local with key in hand, or through possessing the door code to a numerical lock, you can let yourself in. 

(You) “Hi, neighbor!”

(They) “?!? Tourist!”

B. Boer- Unsplash.com

This does not instantly make you a local but then again, once you're on the bustling street outside, who is going to notice? The other tourists that have just exited their properties? 
 Unless you're in a very quiet and tight neighborhood, you won't really know anymore who is in the property next door. In New York they're renting out places that have a shared hallway, you know, a 'get off the elevator and head for Apartment 2B' kind of situation.
The property owners are making bank off of these properties so they're happy but I have to wonder at the sustainability potential of this new phenomenon because...

…like craft beer, every store’s shelves do tend to get crammed with product. Eventually, market saturation has to get reached, and that is probably the case in the most desirable locations right now, gold rushers hardly being known to procrastinate. 
  Regulation seems to be procrastinating though, and similar to the situation with Uber, is in most cases lagging far behind or being halfheartedly applied due to the newness of the issue and the massive amount of money behind it.
Another thing is, these places ain't cheap. There is a market for lux accommodations but if you've ever studied the travel business like I have people are more interested in stretching their travel dollars and will forgo stellar locations for something not so high end. Shakeout at the upper end is bound to happen but until saturation is reached it's full steam ahead. 
As well, how about the 'cool' factor? If everybody is flocking to Austin, and isn't a musician, what do they do, stand around and wait for one to show up? Ditto artists in New York? Quirky locals can't thrive just anywhere, like tourists seem to be able to do. Locals have to be nurtured and supported. Culture, made up of locals, tends to be regional and develops over time under certain conditions. New Orleans didn't just happen overnight. Nashville. Malibu. South Beach Miami. London. Some could fly in and match the scene but more likely most would fly in and spectate. Gawk, snap photos, and look totally out of place.
But that's ok, people gotta travel, they gotta see, they've got to at least land there and walk around and get the T-shirt to let the folks back home know they've been there and I did that, I trekked the globe. 
But fitting in? That's another thing entirely. That takes something like forever because cultures have so many nuances it boggles the mind. So- travel if you want and check out the vibe, by all means! It’s good for ya and will expand your mind. Every culture does the human thing differently. It’s amazing. The ability to do so has never been so pronounced. Just understand that it takes more than just getting there to 'get' it, knowwhadImean?

Busybody

  Life affords most of us 70-80 odd years in which to do but I haven't been doing a lot lately. I have taken my cue on how to live life from the fat black cat my partner and I are in temporary charge of. 
Mr. Fat Black cat has a daily schedule that would be the envy of any man. 
     Sunrise is activity time. This means a trek to the food dish. 
After that come laying in the rising sun time, wherever the sun may be hitting the carpet, or if Mr. Fat Black cat is outside, on the deck. 
     Observation is made of every moving thing, animate or inanimate. This occupies at least an hour. 
     Next comes stretch time, followed by crouching in repose. This means that Mr. Fat Black cat is ready for action, ready to leap into action, or maybe its just a comfortable way to sit for long periods of time. 
Noon is sleep time, after which a trip to the watering station and or catbox may be called for. 
      Next it's time for a little walk around the neighborhood. 

First time in a new neighborhood it’s best to take a safe exploratory tour. That’s why I hired this tour guide.

Kiven Zhao- Unsplash.com

 "Oh my God it's four o'clock already!" time comes next, which means it's time to watch the owners and neighbors arrive home from work. 
     Owners always bring me food. 
     In exchange for that, I might muster up some meows or engage in a little playtime. It's what's expected. 
      Following that burst of activity, I might hover around the humans, observe their behaviors, and listen in on their conversations. Ok, I'll allow myself to be petted.  
      Next comes rolling over and over upon my back time, after which I'll madly run across the room a bout five times, just to throw the humans off. 
Following that, I'll disappear for awhile, make horrendous sounds of dragging my claws on some fabric, then reappear, having been who knows where doing who knows what. 
     The humans about this time will fall asleep. Think I'll wake them at five a.m....

The Last Incorruptible Man

High up in a cave, after an arduous journey, I was finally face to face with The Last Incorruptible Man. 
I had heard rumors that there was such a one, legends they were, almost, for all around me men were corrupted by some bent desire or another. In such an environment, everybody has a price and no one can be trusted. 
  My situation begged relief for I could not rest wher'er I was, thinking that the rug of reality would be pulled away from me again at any moment, this happening lately more than a dozen times in short succession. Fearing that I was about to lose my mind, I sought refuge- but where? Where to go? All around me lurked they of corruptible nature, and if not corrupted already they could likely be. Times were so dire that even those supposedly the noblest and most exalted among men, like the great orange one and his kind, presented a steady twisted version of reality in hopes that the passage of time would get the ones immune to lower their guard, but I was not to be one so turned. I sensed a near overwhelming and unprecidented level of danger. 
     Thus, my trek to this hidden cave. 
     Paying off this agent and that, I plied my way through forest and jungle, over precipitous waterfalls and through muddy passages. So difficult was my trek, and so full of peril, that I was sure I was being misled and thought many times of reversing my course only to remember the world I had left behind. 
    So, continuing my journey, I eventually made my way to The Last Incorruptible Man's abode. Coming upon him, I was startled to find him not in serene composure, but in an agitated state. 

 "How now, my good fellow" called I. "It is with great difficulty I have accessed your whereabouts. I have come to sit at your side"
    "No! No! You must turn back!" he cried, immediately rising and pushing me back towards the entrance of the cave. 
    I was aghast. This was not the greeting or behavior I had expected. Not in the least! I struggled against his push, clamoring to be heard. 
     "You must allow me to enter! It is too dangerous out there! I fear for my safety and sanity daily!"
     He paused, and stayed his hand. Turning thoughtful for a second, he released his push upon me and allowed me to gain entrance. 
     "Just testing you" he confided. "I had to be sure"

Peace- at last!

Andrea Sonda- Unsplash.com

We fell into conversation around a fire he had going, which I had spied burning in the far reaches of the cave on the way in. 
"The world of men" he said, I by then secretly giving him the name Ben, for he would take no name and claimed to have none, "is rife with trouble. They have desires. Desires must be fulfilled. In the fulfillment of desire oft comes treachery. That is the short version. Would you like more of an explanation or does that suffice?"
     "I concur" said I. "The world of men and women"....
    "That's what I meant" he interrupted.
      "....is a shadowy stage filled with politics and intrigue!". 
     "Quite!" Ben agreed. "False representations, shifting loyalties, power plays, betrayal, and all the rest. You were wise to come here for here you will find none of that. I have no desires"
      "None whatsoever?!"
      "None that can't be overridden by choice. Always there will be thoughts and with those thoughts, choices. The corrupt act on their thoughts. The inviolate act on their ability to choose. I simply choose not to go in what I know to be a dishonorable direction"
     "You're one of a kind, then!" 
     "Not really. There are many like me. They just don't make the news. Oh, and by the way, this conversation is over. I'm kicking you out"
     What?!! I just got here! I don't want to leave!"
     "You don't need me, this cave, or to keep yourself separate from society. That's escapism"
     "But you’ve escaped!"
     "No, I want to live this way. You don't. Isn't that true?" he asked, staring deep into my eyes.

I could not withstand his gaze. Ben had caught me. He knew that I didn't really want to live in a cave. I just wanted a vacation.
     "Go back, back to The World. Live amongst the people, with all their faults. Watch them make and then experience their choices. It’s really the only way they are able to learn. God could have put all of this into a book, and he did, tons of books, but not many choose to read them. Life for most has to be lived"
    "Okay" I sighed. "I'll go back. It was foolhardy of me...."
     "Not at all!" Ben snapped. As well as being lighting-fast perceptive, he could be very direct. "You're not the first visitor to this place"
    "Really?"
    "There have been millions”
    "Nah!"
"This place or something like it, I meant to say. Let me tell you a little about me. I represent an energy and can appear in many places simultaneously. I know that's a little out of your believability range so don't try and go there- either! Just understand that when help is needed, when it's truly called for, angels appear"
    "Are you an angel? (‘cuz you don't look like one!)"
  "Yeah. I'm that. And a guide. And a mentor. And, how would you put it? 'A light in the darkness'. Go back to The World with the knowledge that I, and others like me, are always around. You don't have to make any physical journey to find us. Just ask us for help, mentally, in your mind. Out loud is good too. That really lets us know you're sincere".

I guess I'll end my story there for Ben was right. I made my way back into The World, which, once I got there, hadn't changed much far as I could tell, and lived amongst people again. I never failed this time though to call upon guidance when times got rough and exposure to the coarser denizens of society hurt my brain and my heart. 
     And while I have never again seen any ‘angels’, I have had 'weird'- in a good way- things happen every now and again, which makes me believe......

….makes me know….

....that they're always around.

A.I. Truckstop

The gleaming Tesla truck pulled into the parking lot, where it was eyed warily by the other drivers sitting in their rigs. After the Tesla perfectly parked itself its human monitor stepped out. It was time for a rest break. The monitor did a walk around, entered some data on a pad, then uploaded it to headquarters. 
    Afterwards, a cup of Joe in the driver's lounge. 
    A driver from Montana sidled up to the Tesla rep, who was sitting all alone at the counter, the rest of the drivers steering clear as if she were radioactive. But the Montana driver was curious. 
"Howdy. Name's John. Big John. You're the 'driver' for that Tesla rig over there, right? Saw it come in, and have seen a few of 'em on the road lately. You people are thinkin' about taking over for us human drivers, right?"
    "Hi. Coleen. Good to meet you" came her attempt at an enthusiastic proper greeting, it at the same time conveying little empathy. "About us taking over, yes sir, that's partially right. This rig is a prototype and soon as we get this equipment to near 100% reliability, you long haul drivers will be looking for other jobs"
  "Just like that" Big John mumbled.
    "Yes, just like that" Coleen replied. "We are going to make a ton of money replacing human drivers. This Tesla rig, well, without a human behind the wheel, it doesn't know the word 'truck stop' unless it needs fuel."
  "No downtime, no driver's logs, no switching drivers, no vacations, or retirement......" Big John filled in a few of the blanks. There were lots more.
    "A Tesla rig will gladly work weekends, all night long, and it will drive until it’s low on fuel, breaks down, or arrives at a terminal. Inner city driving is the work that will be performed by human drivers. The open road is closing for you guys, I'm afraid".
"Inner city driving is gonna be all that's left?" Big John about spat into his cup. "That's the worst driving job out there!"
    "Yes, we agree. Too many decisions carrying too many contingencies have to be made for us to program all that into our computers. The risk/reward factor is too high. The task contains far too many variables. Investors don’t like that sort of meager potential Return On Investment".
   "Leave the shit work to the human drivers, the ones that are left"
   "Exactly" Coleen mused. "But at least you'll still have a job for a while longer before we eventually figure city driving out. Meanwhile, my department's goals encompass replacing all the railroad engineers, followed by the package delivery guys, once we incorporate A.I. home delivery robots within that system. Driving jobs and even flying jobs will soon be a thing of the past"
"Anybody after your job, Coleen?"
"Nope!” she smugly replied. “I'm highly compensated talent. Companies beg for me to leave Tesla to come work for them. Numerous startups have tried to lure me away"
Coleen finished downing her one mug of Joe, excused herself, then sauntered back to her waiting Tesla rig. Big John watched her go, feeling like he just got put in his place by a snotty twenty five year old. 

The least stylized and romanticized picture of an ordinary TRUCK that I could find on…

(Rodrigo Abreu) ….UNSPLASH.com

Yep. Open road jobs are going to be history soon. Behind you on the interstate will be packs of humanless corporate big rigs, rolling at steady speeds between terminals, and it just won't be the same. Used to be the trucks and truckers had character but no more. 
    No more CB radios, custom trucks, or custom nighttime lighting configurations, no more Convoy, or Smokey and The Bandit, just sensor-laden company trucks rolling along. 
     Lots of people won't miss the truckers. They'll be glad to be rid of them, thinking that one less menace will be on the road. (An incorrect assumption. Statistically, professional drivers are high up the list as the safest drivers). Truckstops will fade into history, those being replaced by bland fuel terminals, and the open road is gonna seem a lot lonelier 'cuz if you see a truck coming there in all likelihood won't be a person driving it. 

Maybe soon cars will be that way too and they'll just be driving themselves, like the trucks. People will be inside but not present, staring deep into their phones, the countryside hardly meriting a glance. 
    But by then, drone planes will be transporting road tripping tourists to places no car could ever go and that’s gonna be the new 'road trip'. Cars will be seen as old fashioned and limited in the extreme as to their exploratory abilities. 
    So so long, open road! Roads, some of them, might even start to become abandoned, like the unused rail lines were. Won't be a need for ‘em and there won't be interest in maintaining ‘em. Not if you can fly all over the landscape while having your goods delivered by robotrucks plying the Interstate. Farmers won't need roads so much 'cuz there will be less of those, and small towns might simply cease to be, because they used to be made up of mainly farmers.
Coleen and her kind will be living in the gleaming tech cities, where they'll have the inside track on startups and have throwaway money that they can use to invest in the technologies of the future to make even more dough. 

Suddenly a series of bright morning chirps from a nearby and impossibly awake bird broke me from my slumber. I woke with a start, and started to rise, the dreaming I had been doing only seconds before rapidly receeding as present day reality swooshed in to take its place. But still, enough of the dream remained for me to continue to explore its vision of the near term future I had been perusing. I saw Big John continuing his conversation with Coleen, but now they were standing by the side of the road, somewhere in Kansas maybe, or Oklahoma.
"There's a ton of money behind these tech people” ranted Big John, “and a lot of push to get these new technologies up and running. I really dislike the way that they just barge in and take over like they own the place but they don't give a damn. It's like they're on a mission and what's really irritating is that they think they know better. Well, maybe they do and maybe that's what it takes but hey! Where's my piece of the action in all of this?!"
“Capitalist tools, capitalist fools!” Coleen whispered sadly as she slowly backed up, her features steadily diminishing, until she totally disappeared, leaving Big John to hear only the lonesome prairie wind.  

Time Machine

    I am a documentarian. Yup. I know that about myself. I'm one of those compulsive types that just has to keep records of well, not everything, but of a lot of things. I don't know why I do this, I do it like it's something that needs to be done, as if it's important somehow, but maybe only for me. 
     I keep a daily journal. Some may say it's a diary, but it's not. That's a different thing entirely. In my journal, I jot down things that were important during that day and my journal of choice is a steno pad. 
     Steno pads are great for journaling because they are user friendly. You just flip the cover up, not to the side, never to the side, and write, continuing where you left off from the day before. I jot down things like how things went at work, dreams I had, processes I felt compelled to go through, moods I was in, and of course the juicy and dramatic events I partook in or witnessed. 
     As the filled pages turn, or in this case flip, data is accumulated and most of this data is forgotten not long after it is entered because, of course, new stuff comes to take its place.
     My steno pads of choice are made by the Mead company and are 80 pages to a side. When I finish filling a steno pad, I have 160 pages of material. 
     Depending on how dramatic and fast-flowing or backwater slow and uneventful my life is, my journal entries could be long or short, and thus each steno pad takes a different amount of time to fill. The one I'm currently completing has covered the last nine months. 
     A lot can happen in nine months! (Or not) 
     In this particular journal, I am a page and a half from completing it and once it's done it is with great and unhurried pleasure that I will sit down and read it from end to end in one sitting. There will be numerous things in there that I totally forgot about but what is telling about each and every journal I've ever written is how I, once slightly refreshed in memory, will read a passage and no matter how old it is to me it will seem like yesterday.    

It’s easier to use a steno pad

Our lives are made up of days and usually we forget about them as soon as they pass, unless a dramatic event occurs. But, even so, our memories of what actually occurred fade over time. But not if what occurred is written down! There it is forever preserved.

Many times I am shocked and astounded at how something I thought I clearly remembered actually played out differently than I think it did, the journal setting the facts straight.
      Dreams I have had point to issues I am dealing with. There might be recurring ones or ones that indicate progress.
      Also noteworthy is that I can see myself changing over time. This is apparent in my reactions to things, my judgements upon things, and the tone and pace of my journal entries. As well, moods are clearly indicated. The mood I was in that day, or on successive days.
      If someone other than me read my journaling they wouldn't understand half of it. It would seem to them to be in some sort of code. I know the material intimately so I don't spell things out so much, I use shorthand and abbreviations to jot down the material faster because it is laborious to write in a manual fashion, which is my preferred method.
      I have sworn for years that my next journal would be much easier to write if I would just choose to enter the words in digital form but no, I won't go there. It has to be hand written. This stuff will never appear in digital form, and thus, will never make it's way onto the internet. That's where my blog posts go. The journals are not to be purveyed by the prying eyes of the persnickety public.
    Nope. Just by me.

I could finish the one I'm on right now and read it but you can't hurry a journal. God forbid! Worst thing you can do. I've tried that just to wrap things up but you lose purity-of-the-moment that way, and it's telling. You have to put material in there when the drive and desire to do so is there and so that last page and a half sits blank for now 'cuz it's just not time.
    But it will be soon and then I will get to read it!
    This is raw writing, speed writing, in-the-moment writing, so it's got a lot of flavor- maybe too much flavor, here and there. A lot of experimenting with word arrangement goes on here, flow, pace, and many other things related to style. Some of it works, some of it doesn't. I learn from doing and hopefully many of the skills I've developed have transferred into my blog posts.
    My deciding to do blog posts came about as the natural progession of doing decades of journaling. Practice, practice, practice, trial and error, and just doing it. (But journaling has never been work).
    Words don't just appear on pieces of paper for the world to read. Formatting, spelling, arranging, word choice, so much goes into writing. It's like speech. You use all the tools.

We Can Be Better

Isn't this the theme of every movie? Somewhere in every movie there is a hint, or maybe not a hint but a cry, or maybe it's blatant and begs for soulution (intentionally put) that 'things be better'? 
If an asteroid is heading directly towards us, that would be blatant. When a child drowns on a beach and is picked up by a soldier, that is a cry, and when it is up to the viewer, watching the unfolding of events where the writer is leaving it up to them to form their own opinion 'cuz there ain't no defined ending, that's a hint. 
    Bottom line, something's wrong, somebody please fix it. 
    Enter the hero. He or she might not know that something is wrong, at first, but it becomes apparent that wrong will call for right and voila, they're right there, inside the situation, to affect change. Or is it to 'effect' change?
    Doesn't matter. Either way change for the better happens. It might not be the drastic change that many in the audience are secretly rooting for but however the drama plays out there's Feel Good at the end. 
    Usually, that's the case. 
  But didja ever see a movie that ended on a Feel Bad note, where the bad guys prevailed? Not so warm and fuzzy, right? Those kind don't call for sequels 'cuz people want things to be better. Not many will line up to buy tickets to see 'Worse Than Before'!

Welcome to Wolf’s Lair

Verne Ho- Unsplash.com

      Saw an interesting segment during an episode of 'Mysteries Of The Abandoned' on the Sci-Fi channel last night. Deep in the forests of Poland, in one particular area, are widely spaced and ultra-thick (7 meter) multi-level concrete bunkers. These were the designated command posts/bomb shelters for the staff that was directing operations on the Eastern Front for the German army during World War II. The Allies couldn't bomb these things to oblivion even if they tried, and they were hard to spot anyway, due to their being camouflaged, that camouflage being adjusted according to the seasons. 
     The mindset of evil lay in these bunkers. 

Universal Exit Sign

Steinar Engeland- Unsplash.com

This complex of bunkers was the size of a small town. Wooden housing structures were there as well during the war but have since disappeared, either from being scavenged for building supplies, their returning back to the elements, or from being razed by the Soviets.
The minds that built these bunkers were preparing for a long stay and expected 'victory' over all that was good. They did not envision a happy ending coming for the majority of the human race, and fortunately for us, their dark ambitions were neutralized.
Seeing these relics of a villainous past undergoing neglect and erosion served as a reminder that deep in the heart and soul of nearly every human being on earth exists the desire for things to improve. We didn’t in those times want to devolve into the unimaginable 'society' that the people in those bunkers wanted to bring about, and we certainly don't want it now. 
    Let those bunkers continue to decay there, in that silent Polish forest, covered with moss, hollow and empty, until they return to dust and are forgotten, which they were, until the Sci-Fi channel and I briefly resurrected them. Not to shed light on them, but to offer us a passing glimpse upon the horror that once was. 
We can be better. We have to, and we will, because the drive to be better is what drives us. Okay, a lot of our 'betterment' is initially selfish and personal, 'tis true, but through bettering ourselves first we find that eventually we satisfy that call. So what's next? A greater degree of satisfaction and fulfillment can only be found by answering a different call, the call of our soul. We are called to extend betterment out beyond our personal sphere because boundaries, in soul terms, don't actually exist.
Don't believe in that? Then just ask any hero why they bother doing any 'saving the world' stuff. 
  They'll tell you they do it because it 's the better way. They instinctively know that it’s the right thing to do. 

Every time.

Forces Are Gathering

The Great Hope and the Great Dread are ready to meet in the guise of the 'midterm elections', which is something I could have cared less about in lesser times. I have been following the various candidates some, not a lot, because I can't vote in their contested districts. 
The potential for change is great. However, I've also seen this happen before, all this buildup, all this hope, and have been disappointed when the results have come in because I couldn't believe that people would vote the other way and apparently, though I can't be sure, enough of them did. 
     A little background, for those who don't know. United States senators serve six year terms, and can be reelected indefinitely. There are no term limits. House Of Represenatives members come up for reelection every two years and like the senators, can be elected over and over. The potential for the concentration of power is highly evident in these configurations because senators, especially, wield great power and once elected can serve far longer than any  president. 
Stacking the courts with federal judges that serve for life (Supreme Court justices are lifetime appointed) is another way to concentrate power. Is all this going on, has it been going on? Ohhh yes. 
    Republicans hold majorities right now in both houses of congress and it's not likely a major change is going to happen in the senate because not a lot of senators are up for reelection. But in the house, it's different. Enough swing can happen to overturn the Republican majority and transfer that to the Democrats. 
  If congress is ineffectual now, slow moving and without much direction due to infighting within the Republican party, just think what will happen should the Democrats become the majority in the house. The present administration will be greatly hobbled. Contentious laws will be much less likely to get passed, and the final two years of the great orange one's tenure will be acrimonious and bitter indeed. 
Best thing on TV and in the news is this. It's like Apollo Creed and Rambo are starting to duke it out and they might just go all the way up to the big day, November 6th. What will the people choose to do? Continue with more of the same, or usher in change? For those interested, this is edge-of-your-seat stuff.

Where laws get made.

Caleb Fisher- Unsplash.com

Maybe, though, we should simply look at this from a sustainability angle and take the politics out of it completely. We can do this by positing a question. "If enough incompetent workers fiddle with an intricate machine, will it continue to function?". Machinery can take a bit of abuse, that's built in by the designers, but after a while the maintenance guys having coffee and reading the sports page down in the far reaches of the building have to be roused from the comfortable chairs they lifted from some defunct office somewhere to respond to a level three emergency call. Grumbling all the way, they will only grumble more when they come upon the scene and see what a mess the people who were supposed to be overseeing things created. Upon that point being reached, fixit work has to be done. Production will just have to cease for awhile.
This will be the inevitable result of the midterm elections, I predict. One way or another, maintenance work will have to be performed. Does it start on November 6th, or will it be delayed until some other time? 
Just wondering! I can't vote in your district. 

Bearing

Every action I take affects the whole, due to the thoughts I hold, or my physical presence, anywhere at any time. Say I'm walking through a grocery store. Nobody knows who I am, right? I pick up this item and then that, maneuvering my way past other shoppers, lingering at the muffin display, standing in line at the checkout, leaving the store. An absolutely mundane series of events yet the way I interacted with the people in that store made an imprint on the whole, to the tiniest degree. I had a particular effect on things and so do you when you shop. Energy, voice, gestures, etc., all of it makes up Presence and the other people in the store take note, even if it's only through a passing glance or an overheard exchange.

It would be nice to be able to see it, yes?

Axel Bergkvist- Unsplash.com

Maybe they might not even look at you at all but- your energy contributes to the overall fabric and this isn't some New Agey airy fairy talk, this is everyday reality. We as humans constantly employ our senses in every interaction by default. I can't turn my sight off, my hearing, or my sense of smell and I also can't shut off the energy I'm emanating, which might more commonly be known as my 'vibe'. You may not believe in the last one, but it's there. Check it out next time you're in a store. 'Energy' might cause you to linger in Aisle 3 or avoid the person in Aisle 4 or it might make you want to rush out of the store due to the turbulence you feel or you might be intrigued, repelled, or indifferent about the person(s) in front of you in the checkout line and it's not entirely due to the clothes they are wearing, the style of their hair, or the perfection/dimensions of their physique. 
    The grocery store experience is a microcosm in the macro world of experience and you are a butterfly having an effect so you might as well be a good butterfly because, well, why not? What kind of grocery store experience do you want to contribute to, now or in the future? A junior high school cafeteria, high school field trip, frat house, stock trading pit, street brawl, or block party shopping experience? (I’ve been in many of the street brawl ones, they are not enjoyable).
We demonstrate who we are by how we act, how we think, what we think about, and how we move. Like it or not, earth life is a movie set, a fashion catwalk, a defendant in front of the jury, a wedding walk down the aisle, a group around a conference table, a solitary figure under a spotlight, spectators in a crowd. Until you're not here, you're ON, making an impact, greater or lesser, leaving a trail of encounters (and memories) in your wake wher'er you go.

I'm Good

     'Good Wit It', I mean to say. Accolades, fame, money, or hottie babes don't mean much to me anymore. Don't get me wrong- coulda used a lot of that earlier and I won't say no to most of that sort of thing now but I have through lack of all that, I guess, found something better. 
     Better than sex?! 
     In a way, yes. Stick with me here, this is rather hard to explain. Let's say you are born. Anybody relate to that? I see some hands. You're born, and you look around, and you want stuff. Like a two year old, you want everything and you want it now. And if you don't get it...... look out Mommy, Daddy, and anybody within earshot. 
     That doesn't really work, but you're a baby, and you're forgiven because you don't know any better. 
    On and on that sort of approach goes. Seething resentment, passionate clamoring, and aching desire never really leaves you. It just gets internalized. You'll find a way to realize your ambitions, somehow see to it that those things you want to accomplish get done, and that becomes your life, basically. Fulfilling survival needs first, because you have to, and fantasies second, because you want to. 
     Realize enough of your fantasies (type A's might say 'goals', the less-driven might say 'dreams') and you get to actually inhabit a world that at first only existed in your mind. That is something to celebrate. And we do like to celebrate, don't we? Success and livin' it up is considered the Best Life Possible, or so we think, until we get what we want and realize, after awhile, that it, whatever it is, isn't!
     Paradox? Not really. 

I Can Relate

Aziz Acharki- Unsplash.com

     What everybody really wants to to be is, how can I say it? 'Comfortable'. That is a close enough word. Comfortable with what is, comfortable with how they're lived their life. 
     Most of the time, that's where I'm at now. But how can that be? My bucket list is still a mile long!
     Is it due to time? Enough time has passed to make, let's say, the goal of becoming a professional golfer a dead dream but that's not it. 
    It seems to have everything to do with perception. I'm just good with whatever is going on around me nearly all of the time. I don't even know how this happened. There was resistance, a boatload of that, when I was younger, but now there's little, if any, to whatever is occurring, wherever I am, in whatever setting. Am I simply numb? Catatonic? I don't think so. Doesn't feel at all like that. Should accolades, fame, money, and/or hottie babes draw near all I would most likely say to that now is "Great. Wow. Thank You" but there wouldn't be a lot of emotion behind my words. Not that I don't care or treasure those things because I do, and deeply. It's just that, problem is, my cup is full already.

ACIM

      ACIM is a long tome, over six hundred pages. A chapter into ACIM the first thing that strikes you is "This isn't for everybody, yet it is!". If you continue after that seminal point to read it, you will learn a lot and there's a lot to learn but it becomes easier to understand as you go along and apply the exercises. Sort of goes like this:

     There is that which is always true, and what is always true is that the ego is false. This false 'guide', 'prophet', and 'wayshower' never includes, it only excludes, and eventually wraps that which is known as 'self' up into a tiny world of its own making. 
      Outside of that little world is everything else, everything else that exists, has existed, and exists past the end of time. 
     The mind is a powerful instrument, very fast in its calculations. It analyzes and projects, it takes in data and compares that with data that it has received before; its memory is vast, endless, it remembers everything. But where is it, and why is it? These are unknowns. 

     Because the 'I', the sense of self, can only be generally located, it is assumed by almost everybody to reside somewhere deep within the brain. The 'I' is never assumed to exist outside of the body, for outside of the body is 'other'.  
     So, there is the 'I', and there is everything else. 'I' against The World! 
     But, the 'I' is housed in a temporal thing, the body, which will eventually not be here so where does that leave the 'I' that you believe you are?
      Living in a fantasy world, a desperate world, a limited world, sort of like a transparent prison, where it can see the rest of the world but not inhabit it and this makes the 'I' very mad. Angry. Hateful. Jealous in the extreme. 
      Forbid access to the rest of the world, the ego can only hate and wish for death. The death of the weak and pitiful body, its prison, its 'home', but as it does so it also calls for its own demise, for when the body expires so does the ego. Back into the void it imagines it will hurtle, screaming like a banshee all the way and angry as hell, for it will have been denied life by the very 'god' that made it- itself! The ending to the ultimate horror film! 

Me And My Shadow

Tom Barret- Unsplash.com

    Ok... "Whew!" already! 

    The thing I like most about A Course In Miracles is that it doesn't mince words. It lays the reality of egoic thought bare on the table for the reader to examine and what is there ain't pretty to look at. Toughest love ev-er, this is, and it's necessary, because it's what is needed to break you out of the jail that you yourself created. 
     Because in the end, there are only two choices. Belief in the small, separate, pathetic, pitiful self, or acceptance of the reality of you as the Self, the whole, which is indivisible.  Forever joined you are in Reality, never separate. Separation from God was only a thought you had, a long, long time ago, and you believed it.

     But you can un-believe it. You can choose again. After all, that is what time is for. Time is given you so that you can decide which world you want to live in and it is known that when the last soul chooses to come home again the purpose of time will have been fulfilled.

'Rocks'

     Back in '76 Aerosmith released their 'Rocks' album and it, for me, was one of those rare albums that was good all the way through. 
     Now a lot of people were dissin' Aerosmith at the time. Rolling Stone was generally panning their stuff, being enamored with media darlings The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin and other more 'highbrow' entertainment and I think at the time I was actually subscribing to Rolling Stone magazine, tryin' to keep up on what was cool, and they ran a story about Aerosmith and in that story was a picture of a guy wearing a blue jean jacket at an Aerosmith concert. On the back of his jacket in huge letters was "Aerosmith Is The Best Fuckin' Band In The World" which was the magazine's way of saying that lowbrow guys like him were the kind of crowd Aerosmith was attracting, and I was in that group too, because I liked Aerosmith. Much more than The Stones.
     I don't know where these Aerosmith guys came from, or what the hell most of their songs were about, because sometimes it's better not to know those kinds of details. What I liked was their sound.
     Now, sound is ridiculously, if not impossibly hard to write about, it's as difficult as explaining color to a blind person but the music mags would regularly try to do just that, they would try and describe each band's latest musical offerings in some sort of prose that somehow captured their 'sound' but nah, it always left me flat and totally confused as to what exactly they were talking about and why they were even trying to describe it anyway. 
     So. Back to the album in question. This one had sound. It had energy. I liked it the first time I heard it, and I liked it last night when I listened to it again. Even if a song started out less than stellar, these guys tweaked it somewhere along the line to where it satisfied, which to me is nothing short of miraculous because, while I can write almost effortlessly, I cannot write a damn song (except for the lame-ass Almond Poppyseed Muffin song).
     'Rocks' captured a moment in time, the feeling of the 70's, young male adulthood (for me, and guys like me); it was powerful and had deadly rhythmic hooks interspersed throughout. Damn thing sounded different than anything I had heard before or since. I don't know where the album was recorded, in what studio, how long it took, what instruments were used, who produced the thing, and I don't want to know! Ever! I could easily find this information out on the internet but it would take all the magic away so I don't go there.
     'Back In The Saddle' is one of the best f___in' songs ever written and that was the first song on one of the sides of this album. The rest I all lump together as being cool, but most of all I like that damn mysterious, slightly echoey, dark warehouse district sound and Steven Tyler's pained voice. 

Is This Awesome Or What?!

     Speaking of Steven Tyler, he's going to autograph an Aerosmith pinball machine as part of a fundraiser here on the island. Yeah, he lives here, probably part time like all the celebs do. I don't have enough layaround dough to place the winning bid on the thing, 'cuz he's going for the highest bid but if I did, well, it would be an honor, the Rocks album having meant so much to me. 
     Music that hits the spot never gets old but it does get buried under all the new stuff. Times being what they are, you can have all the newfangled instruments you want and all the digital effects to play with, but you'll never get that sound. That is what is captured forever in that vinyl. It's history, man, like an insect in some amber that's millions of years old. You can look at that insect, and try and picture the environment it lived in, but that's all you can do. Time has moved on and things have radically and forever changed. 
     Anyway, hats off to 'Rocks'. Hasn't been any other album sounded like it.

Absolutely!

      (Written as was received, with few corrections)

     Verification is required whenever doubt raises it's head and so various means are employed to get one's facts straight. This is done through tuning in, asking others, or research. 
     Tuning in is one way, the primary way we process information. We test the veracity of information against the known, what is known, by ourselves and determine 'true' or 'false'. That is the first step of a deeper process.
     We determine if something is true or false based on what we know. 
     What we know is not all that is known, it is only what we ourselves know, and thus truth is relative to the beholder. If what we know is truly known, there is no doubt and the search ends there. 
    However, if what we 'know' is questionable, then we might turn to friends or family. Here verification, if it occurs, is secondary. So-and-so knows this to be true, and thus, through my experience with so-and-so, he being a trustworthy character, I can say that what I postulated is true. But I can't really be as sure as if I knew it myself. 
     The third level is research. Now you have gone outside of your immediate circle and have scoured all of the information sources out there for your subject matter, and about your chosen subject matter there is that which is known. This is not even close to you at this point, for one can hardly be expected to be an expert in all of the various fields, but over time and through credentials people within those circles have risen to ranks of respectability, accolades have been heaped upon them by their peers, and thus their words carry weight. 
     Scientific principles aside, the laws of physics being immutable (as it so believed), there is no need to test the veracity of scientific formulas which have been proven time after time and have been employed for hundreds of thousands of hours in a vast field of settings, such as in the case of light bulbs, computers, or airplanes, the inner workings of which are known, and in the known, there is no mystery. 

Home For Now

NASA- Unsplash.com

     But outside of the proven there is the theoretical, and that is where our discussion takes us to this day. Boundaries are always being pushed up against. Yes, we have computers- can we make them faster? Yes, we have airplanes- can we make them bigger, safer, and faster? 
    Into that breach of understanding there comes research, then testing, then more research, followed by more testing. The standard scientific process. 
      And science works pretty well for us so science is our god. We think that every breakthrough that has ever occured has come through mankind's ingenuity alone. 
     Which leads us back to the beginning. Nothing that we know is true! How can this be so? We don't know what we don't know but we think we do. There are layers of understanding and physics is not an absolute. Can physics be bent, shaped, by our thoughts? That would change everything and bring to light our involvement, which has so far been overlooked. 
    Objects are thought to be inert, thought to be dead, thought to be without consciousness but, in looking closer, we see that they are alive. Not in the same way that humans are, they are alive in that they move within the field of continuously being aware and reacting to currents of awareness. Objects, or 'inert matter', if you want to call it that, is not self aware, it's just aware. Big difference. Matter simply reacts, following the strongest pull at the moment. There is no internal struggle, which is the case with nearly every self aware human on the planet! 
     Can we humans marry technology with this evolved understanding of awareness, and use that to power the future? 
     The strongest force in the universe is said to be love. Harmony. Balance. This natural order is evident in nature. Nature is aware, but not self aware. It is our model, our template, for constructing the future. We can learn much through observing nature for nature is constantly communicating to all its parts, including the humans that dwell within the earth's biosphere. 
     Technology is not bad, it's just crude, compared to what can and will be. Organic machines? Bio technology? Perhaps this is a ways off in the future but that is where the race is headed. Much is in store for when what is yet unknown comes to be known, when nature reveals its secrets, humanity will be absolutely ready for it.

Nation O' Loafers

      It has come to my attention that some of The Millennials are tired of working and want out. 
  Yes, it's true. Read an article last night about the F.I.R.E. movement (Financial Independence, Retire Early). 
     A case study of one Millennial was highlighted. The guy made over a hundred grand a year doing a job that few people save those in the tech world know exists and he wanted out because it was soul sucking and time demanding. Well, isn't that the case for nearly every job known to exist?
     Fortunately for our guy though, he made soooo much money that he was able to invest it and now he's set. Got his house paid off and a big pile in the bank, uh, wait, no- not in the bank. Banks don't pay jack in interest anymore. They used to, but few Millennials would know that, unless they did some research. 
      What his financial planner steered this guy into were low index bond funds. 
     'Bonds' are basically the financial structures for huge infrastructure projects that cities, counties, states, and even the federal government don't have the money to pay for up front. Bonds are like I.O.U.'s that these municipalities are beholden to redeem in good faith over time. They are not guaranteed but the chances of these governments failing is so low that bonds are considered safe long term investments. Much safer than stocks. 

'Relaxing in Corfu' is my latest Facebook post

Toa Heftiba- Unsplash.com

     Joe bulging wallet tech guy has a pile left over after payday, let's say he gets paid every two weeks. $110,000 a year translates into $4,230 gross every two weeks. That's not bad- ought to be able to easily cover gas and groceries with that. 
     He looks in his wallet after cashing his check at the Payday Loans center over in the rough part of town that he commutes past on his way to the gleaming tech building that holds his soul sucking job, or else it's a shortcut route that he uses from his time consuming working-at-home gig to quickly get the groceries, and says "Lookie here! Lot's left!"
      What to do, what to do?
     Down to Franklin Templeton or Merrill Lynch or FatCity Investments he goes, and he meets with the suit and tie guy there. They consult for a while and voila! Retirement for Joe is gonna come early. Thank God!
       Five, ten years later he's sittin' in the catbird seat. House is paid off, him and the wife are taking trips regularly, and the kids got college dreams that savvy Joe Tech Guy is gonna have them use scholarship money to finance, and none of his, if he can help it. 
     Work, you see, is for the percentage of the population that is far less astute, or fiscally unable to avoid. You folks will keep the country running while I'm taking it easy, won't you? Through your sales taxes, property taxes, and income taxes I'll get a steady return on my bonds, even while I'm kite surfing in Maui, hiking the jungles of the Amazon basin, or trekking through Nepal. 
     Oh, and I don't plan on returning to the workforce anytime soon, if ev-er, so keep paying those sales, gas, property, and income taxes, because part of those goes to paying off bonds and comes to me! I'm counting on you! 
       Because, if all of you figured this angle out, my life in Hog Heaven would end. Nobody would be left to take out the trash, stock the grocery store shelves, fly the airplanes, work construction, or fix the streets. Why, the list is endless! Still gotta have lotsa folks to do those soul sucking and time consuming tasks.