Rhada’s Run

The problem with the world is trying to be better than other people. The remedy is to allow other people to succeed. Life is not a joke. How can we be better when there are only beautiful ones surrounding this perceptual experience? Competing is natural understanding whence we came. I don’t know much about gorillas, but science says we descend from them. Go figure. This is presumably taken also by science to mean that we cannot help ourselves though our selves are irrelevant. There is only Him.

Something more important is going on than competing. Wanting to help is a good thing, but morally, we can rise above our instincts. Perhaps, at silent moments, eyes open or closed, mudita blossoms, the altruism of returning to eden from the abyss of consumption. All humanity is like a stack of firewood, for God. Seeing deeply into the potential of others is not using them. It is homage God would do back to the trees if he could. Pleasure is important, because She wants to obey him, for he is not greedy. Her instincts need his guidance to change.

Whenever I’m alone, I celebrate the beauty of other women, for example, but in public, there is a fear of being abandoned. Smiling or looking away won’t cut it in public, and thus in times of solitude, science is ready to go public, with society’s petty worries, and be healed by our shame, honestly, with no strings attached. None of us are entitled to anything special. We were born by the grace of forces much greater than homo sepians. We will die, and to transmute human experience into safe currency, a pilgrimage lies ahead. This time is very short, and what comes next may not provide the same opportunities as this time does. My kindred females, I wish I could age gracefully with you now, but collective the interference of guilt must be resolved. What we take in is only the acquaintance with the heart, clinging to old ways. What we leave alone is a releasing of a future to be what is best for everyone, nature’s mystery. What we hold all night is entrusting the future to virtues we are committed to. Science established intellect, morality the Sangha. Lay agnostics jangle the keys awaiting genuine shows of respect.

Obstructions strewn on the path of wood chips, sticks, pebbles, pine needles, rotting leaves, the first leaves of autumn, televisions, grocery bills, candy wrappers, chewed gum, ice are communal litter to be recycled. Elders shelter the way, clouds, branches, noises, sound, but who is walking it? Freedom is not decoration, guaranteed, though it can be attained. Sadly, sullenly, excitedly the road ahead is ourss. Stepping with the left foot and then the right, the details are easy to miss. There is a camera dancing in the eyes, and there is a compass in the imagination. How lovely is each moment, the passing colors of the sky, the shadows and the beams of light, the creatures of the forest, the machines and buildings. What shots should I remember? What could cause such a galactic adventure? Tiny specks of Krishna dance watch each other dance, and so much is lost on us as we stumble on, trying not to hurt.

Doubt plagues the lazy mind. Those who are unfit bow with the heart every moment, because it is tiring to be here. We do not recognize fully what is happening. The desire to help is denial of being to blame for the pain out there, and those who are unfit have tried to stop. Each of us must fix the problems we have created in the feeling life, because it is a problematic world that perpetuates desires that never are satisfied. Living in denial, one worries about being overcome by people who are superior. Living in reality requires accepting that there is a war going on, and we are all victims or perps, small time thugs, our ancestors. Commitment to ending this war each of us is up against tears down the curtain separating us from others where we find out how sensitive, and safe, life can be.

It seems crazy to think that even simple things, like a lighter or a spoon, could be invented, nevermind mold or seed. Then add into the mix robots, guns and landfills. Grief makes the mind lazy, again coming back to the point of wishing others well.What would it be like to find true satisfaction? How much would it involve helping others, or to lament? The intellect has developed enough to grasp that every wave we see is a ripple from within. Heart may have difficulty bearing the weight of such ideas. The only approach to peace is through reality, which transcends the rational mind. Instinct offers the balsam the heart craves to test thoughts. Friendship is the income of this task.

The Covid 19 Pandemic is the attempt of the uber rich to regenerate Art and Culture, and Sports. Delta is their dream come true.

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