We live in a day and age with many different opinions and in a time where people don’t know what live and let live means.
Some might say it is because we have surrendered too much of our self government to the governing powers.
The Project Vehicle.
Others would say it begs the question the idea that the government would not ‘enshrine our values’.
For people like me the poles of secular and religious nationalism express perfectly why I don’t consider myself having reached my country. My kingdom ‘is’ not of this world.
There is a belonging without violence.
There is a city without nationalism.
There is an inclusivity with open diversity.
There is identity with cosmically aligned individuality.
There is a post post modernism that progresses and doesn’t destroy all ancient values.
The apex we stand on like a spinning globe is the interrelation of movement that is fixed and chaotic.
The social architects of the world may be called ‘they’ by some but to cool headed non conspiracists who are not afraid of the mechanics of the worlds infrastructure we merely call it a project vehicle.
Imagine deep within your soul you want to give gifts to the world..but then life happens and you get tired.
Imagine having the passion of a Content Creator but not knowing how to put your thoughts into words.
What am I protecting? Is this modesty.. its own form of honesty?
In order to be a popular platform poster you need to “post every day” or at least a few times a week.
Ah
That might not work then.
Where is the passion I’m looking for? Where is the spirituality I once had or the zeal for living life as if this life is a rare commodity?
How do I take life for granted so much? How do I lounge in carefree boredom narcolepsy or not? Am I pregaming my midlife crises, getting ready for it, double fisting it?
Seems like a me thing to schedule such a thing rather than to be surprised by it.
Well why on earth am I surprised that there’s no element of surprise when I feel like I already know what the book of my life is about..like God and I deliberated and threw the book at me?
Sometimes I feel like I have some crystal ball or a blueprint to my life in my subconscious mind. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want the left hand to know what the right hand is doing. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of watching my movie from the outside.
Life and the enjoyment of life seems rather to be that the eyes and the ears and the nose would hear, see and smell what is here or at least whatever senses we have available to us. So strange that even Spiritual Doctors have remarked on sense “All knowledge comes through the senses.” Good job St. Thomas Aquinas for being like the Doubting apostle in your search for faith. I feel that heartily.
So there is that darkness in the soul of understanding (nous) to wit my life gives reference that I keep remembering that I don’t know and I do know. Part of me know my spirit though living in my body and not separate has separate agencies, faculties and ‘abilities’. I find it hard to be a gnostic because I’m an earthen vessel and yet though trying not to be “too heavenly minded to be of any earthly good” I find myself trapped between worlds, like a ghost with a preternatural stain on the ink blot tests of the collective unconscious of this age.
In my heart I watch kingdoms rise and fall revolutions turn and the sun set many a year. The ages of time acquiesce to an Apocalyptic dance that never seems to end. All of this is beautiful and is a verdict to my and the worlds mortality. I hope that I can learn lessons of this knowing that “the spirit gives life and the flesh is of no avail.” so that perhaps life can come to my dry bones again.
The usual trifle of a mastermind is their undoing but there is a mastermind of daunting courage, accidental lack of ego and yet an individualism that “seeks not its own.” yet “lacks nothing” and is “perfectly equipped for every good work.”
‘The usual trifle of the Mastermind is the ‘truffle’ of the Mastermind. Wishing to escape the watching eyes of commoners presumed swine that are in their common simplicity the sign and signat of that primeval connective singularity of all beings the mastermind alone presumes to be the all seeing eye..and yet..”the spiritual man judgeth all things and yet is judged by no one.”
This is Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, Batman and Robin.
Shadows have the tendency to reveal the truth.
Just as Sherlock Holmes might make a game of wits with a man of wits similar and the chess game that interweaves as we see consciousness show mysteries, that is the mystery of evil and the mystery of good.
How does one of similar temperament and comportment as another choose evil or good?
How many of us truly ever meet our archnemesis?
The arechtypical mastermind is not entirely evil and vile.
The Benevolent Ego of the good Mastermind absorbs into the all.
Whilst being an individual self he is at the service of all.
While being egoless he has become all.
While the evil mastermind secures his fortress the good mastermind makes a glass house.
Through accountability is wrot tranquility for accountability is “to be known” by another name.
The evil mastermind secures his own house. When the good leader rules he secures homes for all.
Two houses all and all and great the potential dirges for if either were to fall and yet one shares generosity with urgency the other clenches stones and gold alike.
Like a dark prince of shimmering, ethereal and uncreated light so is the rarity of this egoless gift to humanity.
He/she calls back the valor of the medieval knights of lore. He is victorious and powerful and has found the white stone with his name on it. His name will never be blotted out.
May we all strive for such egoless truth of existence.
Sometimes it takes an inspiring Facebook post to springboard my own Blog post writers block out of commision that unavoidably I will have to post onto my own blog.
I saw a post contrasting the differences between neurotypical communication and ~I’ll just call us~ “Spectrumites!”
It described the difference been an autistics sharing of literal statements (and taking thereof) and the neurotypical tendency to analyze all of this through metadata to which us Spectrumites are not usually privvy.
I would like to mention that though at the age of 32 I went to an autism center for children and was tested and was not then afforded a diagnosis of ASD.. I did however come out with a diagnosis of STPD and only ‘further questions’.
Though I do plan on eventually getting another (and more in depth) testing done at a facility that specializes in late diagnoses of adults, after 2 years of grueling thoughts on the matter I have essentially comfortably settled into autistic self identification.
Some might say “What’s the point?” but for me it is a lifestyle medication that ‘does the magic’ even though I don’t necessarily disagree with the diagnosis traits given in the ‘positive’ but only what I feel was overlooked.
I know many who are quite sure that they are on the spectrum. Some eventually get a diagnosis from a professional. Others forego that route and self identify perpetually. I’m sort of in the middle myself. However here is what I said in response to the Facebook post as my personal commentary.. but likewise one out of a myriad things that makes sense of my experiences of existing as me. But first an awkward picture..
“Even though I am left in the arena of “self identification” in this subject.. this is a good description of one of my primary communication issues. Though I will say it makes me good at puns and good as a helper because of hyperliteralism.
As a strength on the other hand it also makes me pretty good at steamrolling through opposition on a pioneering path because I can see templates and figurative blueprints, ‘as it were’ almost like the casting process for a theatrical production and take action for results without immediate respect to risks or without considering the obstacles ahead of time.
However as I have grown up and faced various obstacles the obstacles themselves became invariably like bosses in a video game and semirobotically by instinctual irascible desire for serotonin and for the fulfillment of a hypothesis I banged my head into mushy ‘virtually digital walls’ until I defeated them.
I acted like a consultant and a hole filler because I realised boats sink not always starting with big holes but by a few small or very many smaller holes. This also effects communication. I’m good at telling jokes all day. I am terrible at receiving them unless we already share a very similar sense of humor, another commodity that my version thereof doesn’t always normally have a match.
This is actually good. I have had to use things that I enjoy to help me enjoy things I don’t. I have had to use acting (perhaps a more fun manner of ‘masking’ per se) to enter into some of the results world of the everyday world..
a world that teaches and takes incessantly for granted that results happen and that’s all there is to it.
One time in Italy on a mission trip a homeless man told me “You think too much. “. At the time I took it as some life thwarting, esoteric entrapment of an omen.
Now I just realise that it is a harmless reality of my being and existence. It is not a curse. It is a blessing with challenges though.
Computers do think too much.. that’s what they do. I’m not afraid of that and by mercy I too believe I might be grasped by the Mind of Christ.”
I hope you can be inspired to be the captain of your ship as God is also teaching me. Take Care, The Picture Frame Conversationalist.
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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Musings of a Picture Frame Conversationalist. 