It appears to be one of those days where my head, like many a fictitious character in a great novel, is filled to the brim with thoughts and ideas. Some serious, some whimsical and all very real. Some thoughts cause me to despair for humanity and others cause me to laugh with my inner five year old and still others cause me to feel that, like generations before me, what happened to the simpler times? Some thoughts are like the mist of dream not quite remembered. So fleeting that it’s like trying to squeeze and hold water in my hand.

Some thoughts cause me to despair for humanity…,

I wonder how the world, not just my neighbours to the south (USA) became so divided. I suppose it may always have been, in one form or another. Perhaps the rose coloured glasses of my youth (literally, they were rose tinted, it hid the redness) had cause me to view the world of an idealist, a dreamer. Be that as it may, there didn’t seem to be as much death and destruction as what there is today. Back then, I wanted to save the world from the horrors of nuclear Armageddon.

I suffered from terminal uniqueness

I even believed I was important enough that the RCMP were stealing my mail and had me under observation of one form or another. Let me tell you something friend, if you think there are no effects, long or short term from chronic marijuana use, you are sadly mistaken. That may be the topic for another day. Back then, of course, I suffered from terminal uniqueness. I was different that everyone else, if you’d had a life like mine you’d understand the way I behave, you’d understand my desire to ease the memory pain. If only you had witnessed or experienced the injustices of my life, you’d understand. I told everyone I knew about my woeful childhood, the unfairness of the world, the emotional chains that weighed me down, the guilt of my mother’s death. It served a purpose, this self pity, it served to keep me trapped, it kept me in a jail of my own design. A jail that closed my eyes, my mind and my spirit to the greater good. It kept me, for the longest time, from embracing something greater than myself.

The great paradox for me is that I needed to surrender to something bigger than me, I had to give of myself to something greater than me, I had to learn how to protect a fellowship or I would as an individual, surely die. One stick is easy to break, a bundle, not so much.  I suddenly found that the more I immersed myself in something bigger, the more of the individual I became. The more I became part of the whole the more my uniqueness shone. How is this happening? Hell if I know. It’s one of the great paradoxes for me. And, I have to say, I really dig it.

There are more;

  • I can only win if I surrender.
  • I can only keep my gifts if I give them away.

So, I really had no idea where I was going with today’s post. I thought I’d make some profound statement on whatever was going on in the world or maybe make an announcement that my creative block is fully removed and a flood of images is causing my brain to ache or maybe a rant on the sorry state of our medical system in the province. Canadians say how blessed we are to have affordable if not free medical care but we turn a blind eye to the fact that wait times for procedures are growing and even though…ah…I’ll rant on that another day, unless of course they call me for my new hip.

More shall be revealed.

 

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