*originally written November 2016*

My apologies. It has been awhile. But it is time to speak now.

This year has been tumultuous in North America, particularly on the US side. The election has created a fire filled citizen divide like no other-- but it is on a scale of block vs. block instead of red vs. blue states. There are increasingly open statements and actions of hate dictated by racial bias, more and more misinformation on easily faked news venues and less and less facts.

Here are my view of the facts:

The new electoral college elected 'leader' is an insider of the great money republic, founded and following the religion of capitalism, based on principles of nepotism. Not just by family, but by family and business associates that are most favored, which is a small group in a few major cities, including Washington D.C.  Why do I think this?

He was born into money. He was born into a family headed by a man who believed in racial purity and preservation of bloodlines. And by race, it was a 'visual' term. He was spoilt by his family members and went to a military school in the northeastern US that was primarily Caucasian with old New England type American values. He surrounded himself with men of power, while 'gambling' his own fortunes but knowing his father would often help cover his losses if he lost. He also sought underground and celebrity power because he was fascinated by how these people became so popular and how the few would become wealthy out of the masses. He connected with people who could skirt the law or figure out how to bend rules in his favor. He announced to his former social associates that he wanted to become famous and run for president in the late 1970's and early 1980's-- well before any "Apprentice" or any famous casino headlines in Atlantic City. He also bankrupted many old craftsmen and honest workers in the later 1980's and 1990's, by filing bankruptcy on those sections of his businesses and is still claiming tax losses to this day.  All the while, he was in the press, hob-knobbing with the largest billionaires and selling a fake university scheme and putting on multiple faces as he parties with the fringes of Warhol drug & alcohol parties on some nights while dating 'appropriate' model-esque women for his off-spring one day, and making deals to force introductions to the most powerful financial and political figures in the world.

How much information and wealth would a person like this have to position himself into his dream of presidency? And as his year over year profit margins decline, how wonderful would it be for him to gain inside access to all the biggest names in the world and private emails and phones numbers, while also, being able to gain virtually anyone's private information he wished. How perfect it would be for him to promise his inner circle of associates, that their business interests and policies would be perfectly preserved or championed, if he were to be placed into such a position of power? Why, afterall, he had learned from his early associates that information for blackmail or association and party behavior is what would win the populace? Hollywood taught him that it has nothing to do with character, only the familiarity of a name by branding. It was the new way of business, to become popular while getting rich-- to promote one's own brand.

a year's hiatus and...

The past twelve months of unpredictable seasons heralded whipping turnstiles in my daily life as well. Not an excuse, I assure you, but certainly a new learning as I realize all too well the limitations of being human subscribing to the sense we have labeled as 'time'--- or rather- - the measurement we chose to use as a social guideline of day's beginning and end--

In the 365 days or so that disappeared-- the environment of life pressured me with new challenges I found myself lacking the ability to transgress into that piece of mind-- the private sector of my soul -- as I was challenged to succeed in this world of PS3's, WII's, project deadlines, happy hours, real estate tax due dates, traffic and storms, dramatic associates, health emergencies, stocks, and so on... the very insanity that makes society function. Yet this pace, this inherited ADHD requirement, left me struggling with the emptiness of not being with myself but rather feeling the pressure of remaining a shell with a cosmetic exterior. For that was the role required to succeed.  And then 12 months simply disappeared as I sat stating I would get to me, tomorrow.

I can only wonder if I felt this for a moment in this age of organized chaos, how many others feel the same? What is the new norm? Is this an additive in the water? Is this a micro pulse in the electro-magnetic fields of cellular towers?

One can only hope the awakening that gripped my consciousness enough to remind me of what was missing-- is the same voice that might remind others too, that life does not revolve around the project list, electronic gadgets and distraction spectacles designed to harness our attentions outside of ourselves...

 

insanity of relationships

In the quest of the romantic dreams bestowed upon our youth as ideologies, we often are contested with the challenges of ... reality.

Over the centuries, we demanded freedom of choice in finding partners. We rebelled from the oft historically popular ways of being matched by elders, by money-- or of course, women being traded with dowries as chattle pieces for politics, land or other wealth. Or the least desirable sons being matched with a fortuitous match guaranteeing some benefit in offspring. Or matches to guarantee certain genetic traits, whether it be for better, or worse...

It's funny how we as humans often fail to recognize the burden of receiving the gift we ask for. In many modernized societies, we do mostly have the ability to freely choose our partners. However, many of us seek partnership before we are ourselves actualized spiritually, and seek either the dependancy upon the other to gain self-confidence or assumed self-realization-- or worse, hide within the relationship and use the partner to define our own entire persona and inner self. In these days of chaos and such distractions of the fast paced, competitive world - we rarely are even given the moment to relish the time needed for our inner discovery and growth.

So how is it we can so easily proclaim to be committed and 'in-love' time and time again? I've known so many to have multiple partners or lovers or 'relationships'-- swearing upon each as their 'true love'. I've even been told to deliberately 'be with' or date many to 'discover myself'. I argue with those who told me these things as not necessarily everyone's path---

That is to say- I don't believe such relationships exist or are necessary to be part of my inner fulfillment. I am not discounting the need for physical interaction and sexual needs. However, I do not believe multiple 'relationships' are required to define my spiritual self or my persona. In fact, most relationships seem to have hindered or interfered with my path of self-discovery -- or drained me of my energy to seek such on my own.

The distractions of relationships formed by non-actualized partners become dramatic. Communications are weak, insecurities are deep and cutting, and what 'could have been' becomes a test of willfulness between both parties.

The good news is that many do eventually find their way to a meaningful partnership in which they add to their personal growth but maintain their individual personas and spiritual natures.

But during the meantime, I just think how much less family law attorneys would earn and how much less heartache there could be if---- we had the guidance when younger to be shown a stronger path of individualized self-discovery rather than the distractions of societal mayhem.

have we become mediocre?

In the movie Amadeus, there were many references made by a smug Mozart discarding the many he considered as part of 'mediocrity', including the character of Salieri and Salieri's music. Yet, Mozart had the gift of genius to hear and see beyond the ordinary doldrums of life--- to mentally (and perhaps soulfully) exist from a tangent of higher dimension.

Or, perhaps it was because Mozart had been given proper training, practiced and allowed no one to deny what he could hear and compose?

The key is- he was given adequate formal training but also had self-interest enough in music to pursue beyond his given knowledge without adding interference from peer pressure mainstream such as the church and royal houses would do, and also, from other musicians and artists of his time. And, in his time, the Internet did not exist.

When the Internet started- it was a wonderful tool of free knowledge and advanced communications once protected by those in intellectual circles with money to do so. Well- it was rather complicated to turn computers on and route to the world wide web in those days. So generally speaking, the respect for the privilege of this 'secret society' interaction tended to filter junk information, marketing, advertising --- completely from within the circles.

Ah-- but then, the thought of a possible computer anarchy and global non-bourgeoisie commoners with great intellect potentially having deeper conversations apart from corporate or political control must have been a feared topic--- because suddenly the new idea was to corporatize the 'world wide web' into the ultimate new highway of communications--- to make it accessible to everyone, everywhere--- with several conditions:
1. make it a money making scheme
2. make it corporate governed with little government interference unless filtering suddenly becomes necessary
3. make it an advertising and marketing playground

Results? Well-- for one- the old adage of 'believe none of what you hear and half of what you see' is now to be challenged as the new era is one of 'misinformation'. It is surely becoming a source of entertainment and gossip, as much as tool of get rich quick schemers and fantasy sales. Basic knowledge has become merely tools for argumentative purpose to see how far the truth can be bent. When knowledge is insufficient, digital technologies are used to create a visual avatar so real and confusing, some cannot even distinguish the differences. Thus the lines of reality and fiction have become more grey and indistinct--- as much as the knowledge we once worked so hard to gain.

Even in graduate schools around the world, the advancements are based on whose arguments were the most undefeatable - not necessarily with the most proven number of tests (most defendable, not just 'defensible'). Patience has become a lost art and as quickly as one can become 'first to market (or the Internet)', well, certainly, that is the same amount of time in which people will have forgotten any perjuries or lies or mistruths that one person may have told to become 'first to market'.

We seem in a world in which truth is no longer an honor and mediocrity has become sainted in a shameful way because it is simpler to claim a post by boastfully braggadocios means than it is to study, work hard, take time and earn respect. Yet, society continues to demand faster and faster speeds --

I wonder only, is this how we will fulfill the Mayan prophecy? Will we once again forget all that has been learned and created to have to rebuild from our forgotten status once more??

witnessing the angst of a modern Peter Pan

Recently - I have had the fortune of interacting with a number of people in their twenties, approaching thirty or just thirty. What surprises me is the amount of lost syndrome with wanderlust that encompasses some of them-- to the point of this obsession paralyzing them into a status of non-productiveness.

What do I mean? Well, one young man, who is an interesting conversationalist, has had it very tough over the past few years. However, before those years, he was free-wheeling in California and even signed up to have a 'medical marijuana' card by finding a doctor who would allow his complaints to be written with such treatment. He is no longer on the west coast, but did manage to finish his degree in arts and he is completely at the mercy of his mother's salary in order to survive. His behavior one day is cognizant and coherent. The next day, things are breaking, he is stumbling and slurring - and he sounds just like Keanu Reeves from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

One day, he finally opens up to let me know how easy it is to get fake marijuana, as he starts to roll up the items directly in front of me. I assumed he could not afford much, so he couldn't possibly be doing that much.

So, when asked about his stumbling and 'stupor' like symptoms, he starts to explain he is on clozapine, ritalin, elavil, among other items. He says he is seeing a psychiatrist for depression. For some reason--- I can't help but wonder exactly how much of his diagnosis was based on conjecture and not evaluating the amount of 'fake pot' he is doing (or how much real pot he has done in the past). Did the psychiatrist really evaluate his habitual problems, or did he assume an immediate diagnosis?

Why do I ask? I am certainly not damning psychoactives-- as too many I know experiment-- and shamans I know have used to treat people. But they also say-- 'weak soul, weak mind-- stupid and addicted' ...

In other words-- not all people come out able to handle responsibilities in life from using any recreational drug a few times. Some people get stuck.

All I know is, after he goes to gas stations and comes back with a supply--- he parks on top of curbs, stumbles and breaks things... says he is hearing voices and suddenly things work very differently for him than for anybody else--- and his mood goes up and down, and he might crash for 20 to 24 hours straight--- and binge eat.... and then he claims it's all about being tired or having the wrong meds again.

(No - this person is NOT romantically attached nor is he a close associate-- these are just observations.)

I cannot help also notice there are other 28 year olds who are in their career early mid-point, going to graduate school, having children, moving to cities, going on adventures----

And I cannot help wonder-- exactly what is in the 'fake' stuff that he is such a mess? Why can't the psychiatrist see or understand what else is going on?

Strange---

lessons from an animal friend

Many years ago, a spirited little orange striped tabby bolted into my life as he brazenly went out of his way among a hoard of 15 or more kittens to show affection to me from inside a mini-shelter cage. His grand debut occured after the staff attempted to place him into a carrier box-- which he easily escaped from--- then they attempted to place him in a larger corrugate box, duct taped shut-- which he also, too easily escaped from. As he swaggered with his tail high above his hind quarters, it was obvious this was a proud cat full of zest for life. He was all too curious about the aisles of the pet store beyond the shelter cages and did not seem concerned about the giant towering humans running around to contain him.

To get him home safely - I finally took my jean jacket off and gently covered his eyes and wrapped him to pick him up. It was only seconds before he struggled to evade my clutches. However, having had many cats in my lifetime, I was able to hold his nape just like his mother would have, to get him into my car. Fotunately, someone else was driving - so I could hold him on my lap.

On the way to my apartment, the tiny 4 week old kitten decided to place his paws on the window and stretched up as far as his tiny body would go. He did not seem to have any fear---he simply was curious at all the sights and sounds we passed, whipping his head at every new unfamiliar item and interesting sound. When I exited the vehicle, I no longer had to cover his head. He seemed quite content to be looking around and did not even struggle much to get out of my grasp until entering the small apartment.

That was 19 years ago. Through the years, during a bad marriage, the poor cat was thrown about by my ex in fits of rage, endured hunger because of my ex's financial lies and carelessness and also, suffered with me as I sometimes would be in desperate measures and so fearful that I looked to my cat for solace and would hold him for hours while attempting to rest as he seemed to be the only thing to help calm me. But this cat stood by me always--- acting like he was my protector and dog-like in many ways, deciding to train the other cat or safeguard parakeets and fish from harm from other cats or dogs. He insisted I get rest when needed, crying until I would go to bed at times-- then diligently patting down the covers around me as though tucking me in. In the mornings, he would often gently wake me with purring in my ears or pats on my face, so I would not be late for work. And every time I came home, he would vigilantly be waiting by the door for my entry.

For many years, he even chose to learn things from me, doing tricks and learning to use a toilet after only a couple months of training. And no matter how many weeks I would go away overseas or with significant relationships--- as long as he could guard the home with a pet sitter coming by, he would always be so eager to see me again and welcome me. I knew he was special when he would even give up eating just to have time with me during my most busy work travel years.

He proved his loyalty to me to the very end the other week.

Sadly, he did have off/on health problems through the years but refused most attempted medical treatments. I finally had to listen and pay attention to his actions and what he was trying to communicate to me the other year. I fired his previous over zealously pharmaceutical vet and began to make a blend of items he seemed to respond to by eating voraciously. He showed me how to help him live another 6 years by this act - then, this year, he caught colds and began to fail quickly as he became stressed over my final move into our own home.

The last few weeks were difficult at best, as he lost ability in his hind legs and began to slide instead of walk. But he would eat with determination, communicate with his various vocabulary of 'meows' while constantly moving about, as if to try to heal. His new vet even said he thought the cat was acting like we were soulmates--- that this cat was determined to fight to stay with me a little longer.

Then last Monday, as I remained at work for too long, I returned home late at night to him attempting to stand and screeching a loud meow, after which he keeled over with weakness, having used the last of his strength to say hello and good bye once more to me. I held him in my arms through the night as he breathed in shallow breaths while kept his focus on me. In the morning, as I finished my shower, he attempted one more pitch but failed. As I held his head in the next minute- he breathed his last few breaths after looking upon me once more. It was as if he was saying, "I did my best, but I can't wait for you today, so I am going to say a final goodbye now, while you are still here."

Later that day, I dropped his body off at the vet and prepared to travel for work again for the remainder of the week.

It was as though he planned it all-- to the final end, showing me what a true unconditional love could be, regardless of any pain he had from the small tumor I found by his liver, he kept trying to be my companion and trying to communicate, and always showing just how much a spirit could love another being. But then he chose how he wanted to die and he did not even suffer much at all. And he communicated clearly to the very end...

What an amazing lesson he has for all of us.