Thursday, September 8, 2016

Day Tripper #2

It started at breakfast,
gangbusters with the huevos 
Mexicana....hard but easy 
getting home. My dear friend 
going through hell with a woman.
All the people I know, it's never 
any other way. My friend, Binny,
just died. Lost both of his legs
in a skiing accident in his twenties.
Managed to have a positive life
from a wheelchair. Humans can be
amazing. What's happening to our
species? What's happening to the 
world? Is anybody paying attention 
beyond their little lives? Did we 
have a few disco years and now it's
just a matter of survival? How 
quickly things can change. Of course,
being old, it seems like it took no time
at all....the Sixties are a cherished
memory. From about '75 on 'til the
World Trade Center collapsed was 
a busy time and a fruitful time, but
the details are unclear at this point.

I'm glad I'm old, that I don't have to
be too concerned about the next
fifty years. There are too many old 
people. The Boomers drove the
culture in the Sixties, and, now that
we begin to be aged, testosterone
therapy has taken the importance 
away from the next big rock and 
roll group  coming out of San 
Francisco. And those artists used to
speak to what was happening at the
time..."For what it's worth"...A lot of
people woke up from the American 
Dream at that time. Now, entertainment
has no other message than distraction
and "Lethe"ergy. ...the river you float
on in order to forget what's really going 
on.

So, yes, old people. I'm pretty much 
done with what I had to do in life. I 
know that because I've been paying 
attention....not because of any greatness
of my own. No, it was simply a matter
of paying attention in order to survive,
meaning not getting lost in the bullshit.
Now, my teacher was as enlightened as
Buddha himself. He had maybe five 
thousand students...tops. Buddha had a
great influence on half of the world. My
teacher, brought up as a Lama, studied
western culture at Oxford and knew the
Western mind, only attracted that many
students. A less auspicious time in human
history? I think we could safely say that.

Straight to the heart...discovered when 
no one is looking. 

So, again, as I have used this life 
imperfectly, yet learning with every 
misstep, I wouldn't mind giving up my 
place on this earth so that younger minds
with more energy can work to save 
themselves and the planet. I don't want to 
take up more of their resources when I've
already had my day. But I do think a lot....
many...old people even more useless than 
I am with knowledge and compassion for the
world...should volunteer to get out of the way
with me. It might be the best thing some of 
them have done in their whole lives. 

I had a great life...at least, that's what I feel 
now. And I was fortunate enough to find my
own way, not listening too much to what the
"adults" had to say. 

So, now, chemically blissed. looking out my
window at my yard, which I can't see beyond
because of it's filling the space in front of me
completely with green of bushes and trees,
bougainvillea, butterflies and colored birds.
Where else do I want to be? Even though there
are other beautiful places in Mexico, I have no
urge to see them. I've found my place. I knew
that the first days I was here, crying in the
restaurant and not knowing why. Some magic 
of some sort? Well, if you knew my teacher,
you wouldn't necessarily see it as magic. On the
other hand, you could call it "ordinary magic".

“In many shamanic societies, if you came to a shaman or 
medicine person complaining of being disheartened, 
dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions. 
When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? 
When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did 
you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence? 
Where we have stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted 
by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have 
experience the loss of soul. Dancing, singing, storytelling, 
and silence are the four universal healing salves.” 
- Gabrielle Roth





















0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home