I am often amazed at how similar we all actually are. There is very little that truly differentiates man from one another. Yes, we do have different cultural upbringings, different skin color, and different religions. But, in the end, we are motivated by a deep desire to be loved, to be respected and to make the world a slightly better place because we have been a part of it. What does distinguish us, from one another, however, most decidedly, is the way that we perceive the world through education, especially moral education – the concept of what is right and what is wrong relative to ethics and propriety. I am troubled that we are coming to accept certain behaviors as horrific and disgusting but still within the parameters of the understandable: vile but understandable. One of these has to be violence. On a daily basis, I am exposed to hundreds of murders and assaults: a car bomb here, a suicide attack there, the violation and harm to a woman, or to many. Brutality that we read about in the many annals of history: the Mongol Invasion of Europe, (1) quickly comes to mind. The difficulty I have with all of this is that none of it is real. “Why?” you may ask. The answer is because I, for my own part, don’t experience any of this. In fact, I have never personally been exposed to the events that we read about on a day-to-day basis. I only know what I know!
I remember being two years old. I wouldn’t call this consciousness, however. This came to me much later when I was almost eighteen or twenty. Like so many of us, I was frustrated by the slow realization, a kind of fog lifting, that it was not going to be easy — this thing called “life.” I was reticent to surrender my relative freedom as a spoiled and pampered male child, but surrendering it was apparently a necessity. A recent article on the BBC claims that many present post-millennials, (1) however, do not leave adolescence until they are twenty-four or more. Some would even question whether they do not eventually join the herds that never become mature at all. The acceptance of the physical destruction of our Earth, for example, does not suggest a deeply concerned populace, does it?
I am sure that all of us have been here: you are explaining something to the assembled multitudes in great detail. Your audience of two looks on in rapt attention. “What a clever man,” you say to yourself, “what an erudite and intelligent man.” You deliver your main point and that is responded to with a bewildering question. You realize in a moment of lonely horror that they have not understood what you said, not at all. Whose fault is this? It is, of course, your fault. The great quest for human beings is to be understood and respected. Often our conversation, unfortunately, falls outside the “veil of understanding.” (1) The only way to obtain this connectivity, many believe, is through love. “In the stillness of your presence, you can feel your own formless and timeless reality as the un-manifested life that animates your physical form. You can then feel the same life deep within every other human and every other creature. You look beyond the veil of form and separation. This is the realization of oneness. This is love.” (2)
What we most certainly admire about the artist, in any field, is their unbridled devotion to their craft. Many live an addled, tortured existence in their deepest desire to magnify their gift and bring it out into the world. As individuals, we hold a grudging respect and, some would say, admiration for the individual who has “thrown all caution to the wind” and bears down to create that one “what if piece.” What if I had not existed: would this creation have been brought to the world? In every breast beats the heart of the artist filled with curiosity and power and magnificence. We fail to act on this impulse because we do not like the consequences. This is one of those numerous apocryphal tales that wreak havoc on the aspirations of young people: that of the drunken, dissolute – and impoverished – virtuoso. It is better to live a life of quiet desperation than to step out into the world and take a chance – and maybe fail – with my life. “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city, you go into the desperate country and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.” (1)
I recently had the good fortune to be in Poland for Christmas. It was a lot like stepping into an anachronistic time. My impression of the Christmas season in my little village when I was young and our present-day holiday is mutually exclusive: the former is filled with family and food and religion, the latter is filled with “glitz” (1) and things and more things. We have forgotten the universal and essential message of Christmas that transcends all religions: faith is paramount. When you are willing to step away from empiricism and simply believe, supernatural forces are brought to bear. As John Paul II (1920-2005) tells us, “Have no fear of moving into the unknown. Simply step out fearlessly knowing that I am with you, therefore no harm can befall you; all is very, very well. Do this in complete faith and confidence.”
We are said to be flowing streams of consciousness, or are we? What reality do I really occupy other than the immediate moment, which itself is brief and fleeting? How do I find that elusive peace that all of us so desire? As the New Year begins to set its course, we are all afforded an opportunity to start with a clean slate. Our “whiteboard” need not be impregnated with anything that we don’t put there ourselves: pain, jealousy, envy or regret, to name but a few. These emotions limit our opportunities for self-improvement. The secret, I maintain, is to find yourself in the present and yet cast a determined eye to the future. That being said, the past must be placed in its own context: it is “the past” and cannot be changed– get over its mistakes and plan for the immediate and for the future: your future. I am a true believer in concretizing images of an exciting, positive nature. It is easy to let the wandering mind project something negative and promulgate it into a fearful and unnecessary memory: an example. Yesterday as I was edging our car into oncoming traffic at a red light, I held out my hand to slow the approaching vehicles. The light turned green and I proceeded into the flow. In the process, however, I did not pay attention to the cars already moving to my right. The mind just assumed that I was part of one continuous movement. One car had stopped, however, and I nearly hit him. This image stayed with me for several days, the aftermath, the complications, the time, the cost: useless thoughts! I must learn to stop negative projections — no fear! This can be extended into life itself. I believe that we must not exist in a continual state of anxiety, but in a state of love: seeking the positive and dynamic experiences to fill each and every day.
In North America, as is well documented, the industrial worker is quickly disappearing. The concept of quitting school in Grade Ten and securing a well-paid job now exists in the realm of fantasy. There is a large group of individuals, however, that have little to no interest in university life, the costs and time of tertiary training seemingly unattainable. What happens to them? They become wage slaves: DBAWageslave.com. It is safe to say that few become titans of industry like Steve Jobs (1955-2011). The ranks of the working poor have overwhelmed entry-level positions. Visit any fast-food location and you will be shocked by the average age of your server or clerk: many are middle-aged, trying to survive on minimum wage.
Many years ago, during a moment of personal crisis, a friend of mine took me into a local park to visit a “magical tree”: his description, not mine. He had heard that the traditional people used to come to visit a giant spruce (1) for solace and inspiration, and had decided to try its healing powers. Now he wanted to share his experience with me. I find that all good friends are deeply concerned when you have problems and are always willing to help. This was a bit much, though. I went along mostly to humor him. The forest was confined by the local city and its suburbs. What is so interesting about the urban park phenomenon is that no one has told the trees that they are to be constrained or limited. As soon as we left the developed environs, the forest unfolded her charms. The noise stopped and was filled with the soft “cooing” of the birds, bugs and undulating leaves which is the signature of all natural and unlimited life. As we walked along the earthen path and penetrated further and further into the wilderness, if you could call it such, my frustrations and anxieties seemed to be less and less important. We are often told that our perception of the world (2) is the created reality that we occupy: all actuality is created by the self. This is easy to read and attempt to put into practice but much, much harder to do. I was reminded by something that I read from Anne Frank (1929-1945) “Look at all of all the beauty still left around you and be happy. … I’ve found that there is always some beauty left — in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself; these can all help you. … I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains. … The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature. … I firmly believe that nature brings comfort in all troubles.” (3)
Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?
Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?
We could float among the stars together, you and I.
For we can fly, we can fly:
As I was out for a walk the other day, I passed countless people on the path coming in the opposite direction. This got me to thinking: until the very recent past, most of us propelled ourselves by our two feet. Other methods did exist: the palanquin, the sleight, the chariot, the buggy and the horse to name but a few. But for the most part, we walked. There is something about just slowing down and walking, isn’t there? Firstly, that “age-old gift” that few of us have time to subscribe to anymore is brought forward: thought. When we walk, we have time to think — think about the dilemmas that plague our daily lives: taxes, children, careers, our place in the cosmos—the list is understandably endless. It is, after all, my process of thought and not yours. You can’t help but surmise that, if every world leader was forced to walk for some distance before making a monumentous decision, the world would be a more peaceful place. “Many people nowadays live in a series of interiors…disconnected from each other. On foot everything stays connected, for while walking one occupies the spaces between those interiors in the same way one occupies those interiors. One lives in the whole world rather than in interiors built up against it.” (1)
