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Memories of the Transcendent.

There’s an old saying called “Be careful what you wish for… you just might get it.” and I must say it’s true, specifically in successful neurodivergent masking escapades.

I remember growing up feeling like the one disconnected, never sure how the constant interchange of drama and ideas unfolded so naturally.. and yet they did; constantly with neurotypical people!

People didn’t censor themselves nor screen themselves and at times may have even been vulgar and all was fine but if I screened myself into a frenzy I still came up short almost as if I had shown up to English class with math notes.

I longed for the acceptance of the in crowd and yet I saw the vanity and lack of depth present in many common interchanges..as well as the points of hidden depth in everyday people’s intercommunication, usually unseen by the in crowd themselves.

In a way this always made me a peace maker of sorts because I came to the protection of what people took for granted and I saw hidden beauty where others saw nothing.

Details oriented, often missing the forest for the forgotten tree shrub and yet I was well aware that that tree shrub is what forests were made of.

I knew it.. because I was that tree shrub..forgotten in the forest.

I remember sometime into my early twenties through various meditative techniques, cognitive behavioral changes and techniques as well as having been brought into a more healthy close friend community that I was somewhat learning how to operate in community even if it was community as married to my ‘monastic’ musings of the same. (Monasticism was the ideological template that helped open me up to a larger community of people. For better clarity my friends ran a community coffee shop and I lived with them for a while. I experienced genuinely what I would call ‘divine love’ in that family and the community that surrounded them )

Always seeing in the thing the thing the others didn’t see. Seeing the Transcendent value in the common place. Seeing the monastery in the community coffee shop or in the “home for wayward boys.”

I knew it.. because I was that tree shrub..forgotten in the forest.

I really was a lost boy and I revisit that often.

Ironically I could even say that the Messiah figure in my life has often returned me to Peter Pan like musings.

Surely it makes sense because the mature man will need to be willing to sacrifice egoistic preference for the greatest good and yet Pan becomes a crony corporate business man when he forgets his soul. The childlike imaginative in us all that becomes the healer of the aching body of the mind that forgot, it’s soaring soul!

Like the old gospel song said “I’ll fly away oh glory I’ll fly away!” sometimes returning to the simple childlikeness that eschews egotism without making a spiritual or virtuous activity out of it is that noble task rarely taken. The Pan man never lost his ability to fly because he maintained those ‘happy thoughts’.

How this relates to my life is sometimes I have felt genuine and I have felt the pressure to “get to work” as it were and to attempt to forget my happy thoughts, that place of no neurodiveregent masking in preference for neurotypical poker face.

Noone can easily describe or know how hard this experience can be. Much like having the FCC in your head at all time censoring everything your’e ready to say or do and having to change course and rechannel your energy typicalizing the neuro non typical many times feels like an oppressive act of internal self violence and yet this world is very violent.

I like to see how some of the biblical prophets only found divinity when they went “outside of the camp/ city gates” and this is how I have felt this past year and a quarter+ whilst I’ve shunned societal going ons, retreated ever inward and thought about how I might change society in the only way possible by helping it embrace its highest self by practicing what I wish to preach. The truth of the matter is that noone who changes and “becomes new” has become something novel but rather something ancient. “The good man brings forth treasures old and new.” and I guess I’m an old soul.

So are you.

G-d bless you on your path.

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NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF EXHAUSTION.

Rain on the window pane washing pain away.

Pains as from yesterday; yes I wash the pain away.

I’ves and Eve’s and long ago stand me now here today.

I’ves and Eve’s and long ago stand me now here today.

My beginner Garden this time last year!

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Extensions.

(A little poem comment I wrote for y’all antimaskers. )

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
So the fear of the Lord isn’t an end in itself.
Is it fear to avoid hell which is worthy to fear and then say to the sick..go now physician and heal thyself?

Jesus said preach and heal is thy task. Where many words are -sin will not be lacking..so why oh erudite soul wont you please wear a mask?

If the Lord is to fear and the punishments of hell and to heal and to preach is thy mission pray tell..can you not also protect another’s mortal shell?

You know it is written as has been duly known by the beautiful Jewish messiah bethroned that what’s done to the least of these is done to His own.

Therefore if you quibble at a small ethical task …can your master charge you in the big if you can’t wear a mask?

Wear a mask ,wear a mask is all that they ask during pandemic plagues do the wise “cancel’ that?

Elephants work for peanuts and GOPple them fast..if it could save some one you know WHO’d appreciate that…

Most kindly then till the coast clears .. for the least of these “that” will you do them a favor.. wont you please wear a mask?!

This message is approved by James Dillon Broxson. Thank you Kay Ivey for extending the mask mandate and listening to our public health officials. It means the world to us that you are trying your best to put people before politics on this issue. A good and ethical bipartisan and science following move. Legacy comes from doing the right thing over merely following a brand. We appreciate it.

UPDATE { I SPOKE TO FAST… SHE CHANGED THE MASK ORDER TO A CHOICE THING. GOOD GRIEF!!!}

P.S. I’m glad she did the right thing for a while but I guess politicking is an endless pressure. “Shaking my head. “

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depression, mental health, love, kindness, golden rule, religion Poetry Politics, Philosophy, Learning and living. Uncategorized

When God Holds Your Hand Badly.

If 2020 (all flowery philosophical and faith based sentimentality put aside)..

was an easy year for you then you might be a masochist or if you were not at all stretched by this year you might just already be perfect.

This is not to say one is a masochist if one has legitimately experienced new life blessings this year (We received our first baby girl into the world this year).

It is also not to say that faith based sentimentality is not often anchored in solid reasoning beyond mere emotion and thus… ‘a wash’.

What it does boil down to is a confession that the ‘perfect man’ sleeps through the storm and the imperfect man cries out in terror “Lord, we perish!”

There is a type of restful contented waiting that weighs heavier than any storm. They say that the “little ones” have the kingdom of God and I believe I have proof. This year I got to witness that contentment and peace first hand or rather ‘hand in hand’.

I named my daughter Eliza to be a female version of Elijah the prophet.

Well in her first year of life not only has she gone through the Coronavirus Pandemic and global economic upheaval but as of recent time, here on the Alabama, Gulf Coast she has gone through hurricane Sally (The most contrivedly and ill undermeasured Cat3 I’ve ever been through in my opinion).

Interestingly enough my wife and mother in law who are both from Venezuela had never been through a hurricane so while we sheltered at my parents home I had plenty of snuggles with my wife that easily matched that of a couple watching a horror film. My wife was a little spooked by the whole ordeal obviously.

Now on the other hand our daughter Eliza was definitely a little preacher by her actions. She like Elijah lived through the whirlwind and like Jesus slept through the storm! Thats right she slept through ALL of the worst hours of the storm where all the damage happened!

I know this amazed my wife but it personally deeply inspired me. Our little prophet weathered and slept through the storm and all throughout this year has never ceased to be the little chonk of joy she was.

So for the title of this blog post I want to explain it a little more because it was another little precious way my daughter deeply inspired me just by being her and that was by one of my favorite little encounters with her.

In the age of smart phones alot of us become dummies from time to time. I think my baby intuitively knows this and she returns my wife and I back to the human. Yes sometimes in the hodrum of everyday life and exhaustion even we can veg out on our phone. My baby on the other hand as a fresh human straight out of the oven won’t have it! If we are on a phone in her presence she will protest..she will return us to the now. The most precious example of that is if I am feeding her with bottle and putting her to sleep. If I have a phone she will get frustrated.

Just like God my baby innocently and purely demands my total attention.

When I feed her it’s all or nothing. It’s daddy and daughter time. It’s ‘contigo’. But the funny thing is though she demands that I look right at her little face and just be present with her she also demands that she can play with my hand while I feed her. She wants to hold my hand but she doesn’t always do so with consistency.

Sometimes she has a death grip and other times I feel like a goldfish is slapping me! But I have learned a very deep 2020 lesson from this encounter of love and relationship with our precious daughter. In these moments of connection and relationship building I have learned something splendidly transcendant!

I have learned that sometimes we might be inclined to impugn guilt on God for seemingly sleeping through our often stormy lives. I have learned it is easy to be jealous of those for whom storms seem to not shake their easy restfulness of spirit but with a shift of perspective one can be inspired by it! I have learned that God demands our attention with crystaline and 2020 vision (hindsight is 2020 and all that..) and I have learned that it is the connection that matters the most and that it is better to hold God’s hand even if like a little child He ‘holds our hand badly.’

(James Dillon Broxson born and raised in Alabama likes dark bold letters because why not? But seriously they really are much better right?! James is a father of one beautiful baby girl named Eliza born in 2020 and married to an amazing lady from Venezuela named Carolina.)

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depression, mental health, love, kindness, golden rule, religion Politics, Philosophy, Learning and living.

On Hermitage, Connection And Social Responsibility.

It probably wasn’t long ago for many of us that we were “making plans and holding hands.” as the late and great Daniel Johnston once said in one of my favorite songs of his, “I save Cigarette Butts”.

Or as it says in that great literary and spiritual Masterpiece the Bible;

“But as the day of Noah were, so shall also the coming of the son of man be.

For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark,

And knew not until the flood came, and took them all away; so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be.” Matt 24:37- 39 KJV

(Yes I’m Catholic but I have my respects for a lil KJV!)

For all practical appearances it would seem that the Son of Man has indeed come and with considerable shaking of things that seem unshakable. This is not to say all natural disasters are directly from God or something as much as that all natural disasters prove we ‘need’ nature’s God. That need is the ‘final judgement’.

Judgement is a trite title to linchpin culture with just as much as it backfires on those who judge it an effective resort for affairs of cultural exchange.

Personally I would know because I am better at judging most people ‘better’ than most people I know.. at least that’s ‘my judgement’ on the matter.

And so I sit here like a hermit on a hill. I always was one even in my most social of times but that should never be confused with malice or hatred of humanity.

Sure, to the man who is confounded and confused by society it also could be possible to become negatively personally affected. It is not because such an one sees nothing in society as much as sees too much promise wasted in society.

The idealist hermit sits on the hill top judging not because he hates but because he knows the art pieces potential and to the degree he judges in purity rather then in strife he gathers a glimmer of truth if only he would judge with a correct, loving and disaffected judgement.

Looking into the fire makes darkness for the eyes. It doesn’t matter if a fire burns bright. It is easier to see when escaping a fire. Its much easier to see a fire once one is away from it.

Hermits get a bad wrap for evading social responsibility and that is not entirely without rationale. Many hermit temperament people ‘do’ hate society and even for those who don’t the temptation lies at hand.

This is not a value judgement for such individuals. Introversion runs too thick to cheapen it with run of the mill stereotypes. Everyone has their cross to bear. Introverts can be good people but not all introverts are hermits. The hermit might seem related to introversion in many respects and that is a perfectly natural conclusion..

Yet a true hermit is not one because of introversion.

A true hermit is one because of people..for people.

Like a man with a mote in ones eye a man with judgments whether good and bad may just be a man with an artists eye.

The judgments hurt the man with an artists eye because an artists eye can also comprehend beauty in the ugliness just as he sees beauty and ugliness in himself. Thus when you judge the speck in spite of the mote you judge yourself in the process. Somehow miraculously even in spite of the sin grace interrupts. Thank God for interruptions!

The hermit is a benevolent soul if he decides to live his call. He is a leader by serving, though perhaps by a false sense of absence in immature consciousness, whether in himself or according to the perceptions of others.

A man who is trained by a more solitary life must not throw in the towel or merely relax or enjoy the affairs of his solitude.

If anyone would wish to be a hermit I guarantee the universe will crowd them with thoughts. Their silence will be interrupted whether internally or externally.

{The only ‘true’ reason that the hermit may be is because he sees something good in you and in me.}

He doesn’t just sit there hating the Who’s.

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