hopelesshappiness.com

In the case shown in the illustration and caption above there can (obviously) be no response from the defendant, but regardless of circumstance can there ever be an adequate response? In the case of a disagreement, of course each side is inclined to defend their position and thus is guilty as charged. And in any type of interaction between two or more individuals, it must be determined if the plaintiff is saying that the defendant is making it all about them, or if the plaintiff is actually saying that they are not receiving their due attention. To determine this would require an objective review of individual give and take; and who has time for that. Suffice to say, it could be that the defendant is guilty by force of personality, demeanor, or heavy-handed verbal warfare, or it could be that the plaintiff is indecisive, uncertain, or merely quiet, in which case the defendant may be guilty of a lesser charge of being inconsiderate, but not necessarily guilty of self-centering; (any charge of self-centering would automatically include the lesser charge). So it appears that no matter the circumstance, when charged with making it all about themselves, the defendant is always (to some degree) guilty; even in the illustration above where Death is shown to be one's ultimate act of self-centering. Amen!

The venomous barbarism that is one's exercised power over another in the superficial context of our day-to-day human interactions, though hard for the oppressed to ignore, is (for the oppressor) essentially meaningless. It will not guarantee their spot in heaven, nor will it serve a greater (or even a lesser) good, nor will it assure any kind of lasting, worthy legacy. Power is exercised to give meaning to an individual ego within their community or culture at the expense of the masses.

I am coming to see that my biggest challenge as a human is to deny my individuality; and to deny my community; and to deny my culture; and to deny humanity; and to acknowledge that I am (and we are) a minute, infinitesimal part of something that is so much larger; and to act accordingly. This ‘something’ that is so much larger is so large as to be essentially incomprehensible, thus my inclination to find purpose and meaning in myself, my community, my culture, humanity. Regarding my humanity, even in the context of being benevolent, kind, humane, if I don’t acknowledge this ‘something’ that is so much larger I will direct my goodwill only toward my fellow human in the context of being human which today is in the context of capitalism, consumerism, wealth and power; and this context is short-sighted. So yes, I must find a way to deny my humanity yet still make a positive difference, no matter how small, minute, or infinitesimal. I can still be courteous and respectful; and I can still play at our day-to-day contextual superficiality; but I have to also make the effort to somehow account for the much larger context. In fact, it is the short-sighted context of capitalism, consumerism, wealth and power that is consistently discourteous, disrespectful, unkind, and inhumane. And within this callous lack of compassion I am (rightfully) reminded of my inconsequentiality while oppressors with power misinterpret their pretentious superficiality as superior entitlement and purpose. To work at understanding a much larger context would help them to see the essential equality from one individual to the next regardless of the (often meaningless) part they play in today's human context. This in turn would encourage one to expend effort helping those who struggle in their day-to-day human individuality.

Some may look at these thoughts and interpret a traditional God and religion as that ‘something’ that is so much larger, but that perspective is also narrow and exclusive because up to now it has focused largely or completely on factions and dividing even the somewhat larger (still superficial) context of all humanity and completely ignoring the totality of the actual ‘something’ that is so much larger.

To make God all about Humanity is to insult God.

• To save the world.
• To save myself.
• To learn and grow with understanding and empathy.
• To think things through objectively.
• To laugh and to cry.
• To alleviate suffering.
• To hold on to.
• To let go.
• To practice.
• To study Form as Peace, Function as Purpose, Discipline as Reason, and Indulgence as Passion.
• To glimpse Beauty, Truth, Wisdom, Justice.

--

Twas the week before New Year, when all through my tale

Were teachers and tellers and privilege for sale;

My jobs they were hung in these months this past year,

In hopes that ridiculous might disappear;

--

Much effort was wrestled to fill up my head,

With visions and missions and doctrine to spread;

My job at the college, I cheered the parade,

Of students not learning but making the grade,

--

In banking I learned that the people don't matter,

The money is made in the Wealth-Power clatter,

As substitute teacher I flew like a flash

To open young minds for no heed and scant cash.

--

The gloom on the jest of my new-fallen woe

Oppression, injustice to save status quo,

Then what has my wandering search thus achieved,

But a miniature pay, for my dreams ill-conceived.

--

With a greedy old driver whose fists cling cash tight,

I don’t stand a chance to do Good and do Right,

More rapid than eagles my thoughts change direction,

I’ll sing and I’ll dance after years of reflection;

--

Now, Hard Work! now, Listening! now, Walking and Reading!

On, Writing! on Gusto! on, Cooking and Feeding!

To thus stop all regret! To thus stop seeking glory!

I’ll write a new chapter! I’ll pen a new story!

--

As deceived by the pretense of past by and by,

When I’ve met with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to this ethos I bounded and flew,

With a head full of truth, believing anew.

--

So with greed unthinking and the old ones in charge

They demand on our paths we grab cash and live large

We are all pushed ahead and cannot turn around,

But I can expend effort, my nose to the ground.

--

I can dress up my path with my strength and my skill,

And perhaps add some Good with no fluff and no frill;

And a quiet defiance I may fling about

In hopes that those listening will question and doubt.

--

But to change our direction? To start a new start?

…All I can do is to change my own heart.

…All I can do is to know my own mind.

…All I can do is some Right and some Kind.

--

For decades my purpose was held tight in my teeth,

All it did was encircle my head like a wreath;

All this time to save face I pretended to know,

Where I'd been, where I was, and then where I would go.

--

My purpose is not and it never has been,

A limitless choice of what, why, where, or when;

Though I fancied to think that I had that control,

Tis the ‘How’ that is really the heart of my soul;

--

So I'll speak fewer words and work harder at work,

No pretense, no privilege, I'll spurn shrouded murk,

I know on my path, though it is not my own,

I can learn, I can grow, I can know some unknown;

--

With power as structure and wealth as foundation

For Kind and then Good there's no justification.

With People as structure and Kind as foundation,

For power and wealth there's no justification.

--

So I sprang to the ground with my nose to my path,

And I'll work to control my despair and my wrath.

And despite the old driver proclaiming ahead,

That it's his path I trod, I've still nothing to dread.

Keep working to Good, keep working to Right,

"Happy New Year to all, and to all a good-night.””

--

--

Twas the week before Christmas, when me and my spouse

Had the crazy idea to go buy a house;

Four decades of renting and now here we are,

Let’s pack up the boxes and load up the car;

--

We won’t tell the children, we’ll sneak out tonight,

They’ll wake in the morning but they’ll be alright;

So mamma in her ‘kerchief and I with the cat,

We packed and we loaded and started to scat,

--

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

We sprang from the car to see what was the matter,

I circled the auto and saw in a flash,

The box way up top had come down with a crash.

--

The pots and the pans on the new-fallen snow

Gave a cluster of flap to our ebb and our flow,

When, what to my wondering eyes should come then,

But a big moving truck and eight big burly men,

--

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name;

--

"Now, Aidan! now, Henry! now, Caesar and Dex!

On, Griffin! on Garrett! on, Eli and Rex!

Load up all their stuff! Every bit, wall-to-wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

--

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So off to the new house the coursers they flew,

With the truck full of stuff, and St. Nicholas too.

--

And then with a sinking, I saw on the truck

Our daughter, in bed, still asleep, hair amuck.

So I drew up ahead, and I turned them around,

And delivered her back to her room, safe and sound.

--

Still dressed in our pj’s, both mamma and I

We’ve made our escape, late at night on the sly,

A bundle of questions we bandied about,

As we followed the troupe, we started to doubt.

--

I waved Santa down for a long heart-to-heart,

Expressing our feelings about this new start.

His droll little mouth it drew up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

--

I told him how we were afraid of indentured,

He told me no gain without being adventured;

I rued all the rules and I trembled my fears,

He laughed and he asked, “where've you been all your years?”

--

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed along with him, in spite of myself;

The wisdom of Santa, it flooded my head,

He gave me to know it's still nothing to dread;

--

We spoke no more words, but went straight to the house,

They unloaded our stuff and I turned to my spouse,

And laying my finger aside of her chin,

I said, “it’s our house, welcome home, let’s go in.”

--

Then Santa emerged, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he got in his truck,

“It’s clever how far from your kids you have snuck,

You might send them your address sometime before Spring.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all everything.”

--