If you are going to censor posts, please at least say why. I don't feel I wrote anything offensive in even the least. Also, if you are going to censor me without cause, I must warn you I will spread a lot of negative vibes at other Left sites. I disagree completely with censorship of any kind as I see it as a threat to true democracy.
Well this is Hell (in case you didn't know), so stop whining and start making payments on your burial plot. ;)
That's incredibly deep for the comment section. Sure wasn't expecting to find that here. Great first sentences make the world go round. Thanks!
Transforming ourselves into who we need to be to survive the present Sixth Mass Extinction might not be easy. Perhaps this needed transformation calls for, above all else, habitually embodying humility. When I attempt to learn how to transform myself, I find I need many teachers. I also find they are often available, if only I will pay closer attention. In the present moment, pay closer attention to all that is obviously present.
This practice is hardly as easy as it may readily appear.
Being in the present is an art comprised of many arts, not the least of which is silencing my own ceaselessly chattering mind. Nor is this part easy. The mind has a life of its own, and lest I pay attention to it without ceasing, it becomes anxious. Jittery. Insecure. And more chatter pours forth. Like our bodies, our minds fall silent from satiation and/or satisfaction of immediate need. Every anxiety is pregnant with a need. Yet, discerning the immediate need can be challenging. Every challenge is pregnant with opportunity. Observing what this mind is chattering about is baffling, to say the least. It bounces from topic to topic, fragment of a thought to wild speculations about any and everything under the sun. I can even remember having spent decades getting this very mind to have a life of its own. It wasn't always this way. Oh, it was a busy body long before I went into Vietnam with the fat idea that I, with lots of help from that other half a million patriots, would turn that war around in a few months, at most. The war turned me around, mind, body, spirit, heart, soul and science. Indeed, we discovered many millions of patriots with their own ideas of what their country needed. Their ideas trumped ours. That is historical fact.
Even then, though this little mind was already discovering that life was in more ways than one very closely related to death, it wasn't yet alive as it is these decades later. Now, it routinely outruns itself, leaving itself in a dust cloud of debris, as though this mind had already reduced itself to just another rout in just another war. I distinctly remember my buddy Dave and I discovering, in the floor of the A Shau Valley, the moment before the rout began. We never forgot that discovery; we laughed often about how mysterious it was yet how reliable.
Being at home with death is one thing. It is not the same thing as being in the midst of the killing and dying, though being present with oneself invariably reveals this is precisely where we all always are, no matter how many or what distractions we grasp upon and dive into. We all actively do that killing and dying every day. We cannot help ourselves. We do it with heart, body, mind, soul, spirit, and science and we do it without ceasing. Yes, even sleeping; there, especially in those rapid-eye-movement-moments, we are as busy as ever killing and dying as well as re-creating and living up to our very best. Or not. Each of us chooses. Each and every moment.
The Secret History of Superdelegates