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.
(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. “
Imagine that you were just getting things settled. You had your challenges and you had your pages well written. You weren’t perfect but life was by no means even close to bad. Things were going pretty well.
Yet somewhere lingering in the back of your mind was your desire to make a career change, to stand up for yourself.
You wondered when might life give you “a break”.
You do things a certain way all the time and the rythm of what you do is rythmic like praying on prayer beads or speaking in tongues. Even the things you loathe that pay the bills are the things that ironically give you time to connect to and to protect that same heart.
Then right when you are gearing towards having your first child with your wife you waited 31 years of your life to find and are beginning to find stablilizing routines, a Global Pandemic strikes.
You aren’t ‘entirely unhealthy’ but youv’e almost died of 2 viruses at once, had spinal meningitis, presently have various stomach and digestive maladies, and have had sinusitus since youth.
Youv’e underwent years of anxiety, depression and OCD. You had the secret wonder that maybe you were on the autistic spectrum for many years.
You recently found out why you were so cripplingly tired all the time and that you have narcolepsy and sleep apnea..with it’s happy symptom of insomnia.. Cherry on top ‘amirite’?
Youv’e been prepared for this test for it was the very first one.
Time to be a man. Time to survive whatever comes. You don’t complain for food shortages at the bum rushed super market…your fight or flight is too strong for that. Neither do you have a reductionistic view of surviving crises periods of history that only thinks about the obvious, trying to save money, trying to make more money.
You realise if push came to shove you can’t eat money.
You buy seeds along with your normal grocery. You save every seed from the refuse. You begin to compost and trial and error on learning to grow from seed.
You don’t think about comfort first. You are essentially reverted to your caveman effigy and your title is if you win war with the Mastodon.
However the Mastodon in this scenario is smaller than the angel dancing on a needle tip.
You wanted to learn coding for years and work from home for years and you also have immunocompromised possibilities, a new baby with similar, or some of the same, narcolepsy in one hand, anxiety coming from too much stimulation in the other leave you to figure out balance along with the false attributions you put on yourself out of false masculinity “You’re not a man if your staying at home with the baby right now!”. “Your were forced to be on unemployment right ..why isn’t that blog thing making money yet?!”
Time takes time from you with dividends. And for whatever you earn off of time the taxman likes to knock on the door.
Yes I don’t want a stranger watching my brand new baby during a global pandemic thank you very much and yes I am going to do everything I can to put life first.
If a rich man with a corporation has a bottom line so do I.
If a poor man can inherit the kingdom of God well so can I.
If the poor are close to God and the Kingdom of God is within the poor in spirit it seems pretty obvious that in the poor exists riches beyond comprehension.. hence the royalty and riches of a “kingdom” of the incomprehensibly glorious “God”.
Life keeps going and I keep on ‘recalcitrantly surviving’ in defiant joyful spite of if some think my life is expendable.
I do not ask them.
If they question me I can submit their questions to THE MANAGEMENT.
I am working on my project and I will succeed. Every once in a blue moon a memorandum should be made.
Every once in a while the Magna Carta written up, the ‘Terms and Conditions’ renewed.
They may change at any time mind you. Its a two way street this communication thing.
I am trying to keep motivated. I am going to make these dreams come true. And really I don’t know how to do any different. The subconscious is sandboxing. The Wiki is leaked. I am not afraid anymore.
I am tired but I have lost my edge. I am tired but I am not tired anymore.
I am growing. I am a warrior. I am motivated.
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I find it important to never quit learning. I often like to imagine the future and to imagine becoming proficient in a skill not generally associated with my public persona.
One such imagining is that of becoming a scientist.
I could see myself pouring obsessively, lost musing over medical mysteries and biological quandaries as my mind often obsessively does.
I could see myself as a mathematician pouring over formulae as if they were nature’s immutable song, an indivisible unifier to inherent non-divisible truths.
As a long time musician I have often dreamt of being a classical composer, of sharpening the higher faculties of my mind with the beautiful truth of song, expressing mathematical facts through the medium of tangible felt beauty.
Sometimes I imagine being a lawyer, an advocate, a public defender..knowing the law well so as to subvert it’s misuse by evil people in high places eager to destroy others life for a buck. I imagine protecting the innocent against those who would use the law against ‘they’ who are innocently unknowing of their schemes and to condemn those falsely accused with unfair and unjust punishments. I often imagine saving people through diligent study and erudition.
Sometimes I wonder about these things because I am sure that vocation isn’t the full description of who I am and yet I can’t help but think these desires of my soul describe some ineffable inner truth about myself.
What are some things you’ve dreamed about your life?
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So I think it is advantageous to start my relationship with you the reader to know..my name.
My name is James Dillon Broxson and I’ve been told that was my signifier all my life.
For some reason I answer to it so I guess it has some sort of relevance to me.
Issues of politics seem to take up everyone’s general everyday discourse these days and I am often just as guilty but many are also guilty of doing nothing to better the situation. They are political in word but not in deed. It is important you know I don’t wish for people to be a-political. I just want them to be political in word and in deed.
From the day I was born I was a protest. I had sleep disorders that made me sleepy when everyone was waky and waky when everyone was sleepy. I wasn’t just beating to my own drum all “Dilly-Nilly” but rather it was foisted on me by that miracle called birth.
I understood things differently, I acted differently I believed differently. I was born my own political party.
I was like a missionary to all but all saw it their mission to be missionaries to me…
but alas I was hard hearted and couldn’t swallow the pill. Perhaps my natural immunities made medicine my mutinies!
It’s hard to swallow a pill when you are born with the natural tendency to believe you are a doctor.
It might take you years to hear the other and selective hearing doesn’t make that much better.
To be normal was oft an envy; though in these years, in my thirties, Iv’e began to ‘trust’ the directions my neuro-divergences often suggest as plans of action. To survive in this world whilst owning childlike naivety and awe is dangerous unless you learn to be strong ‘trusting your guns’.
I decided to start blogging again and this time to try to make a run of it as the beginnings of my online business, as a way for you the reader to follow the trains of thought I’m conducting and perhaps hop on and enjoy the ride and for me to etch out a living doing what I always wanted to do ..being a writer.
My mind is so full that it is exhausting at times but my hidden rigidities of thought are so all encompassing that good habits are hard to inculcate without a sense of deep meaning and ‘ritual’.
I have had a strange gift in my life of full dedication to very particular seemingly minuscule ‘things’ or some pet social goal to help better mankind. The particularity is important as the meaning is necessary and the ritual is soothing.
When Adam and Eve were put in the Garden of Eden the work of tending it was meant to be a pleasure and not a chore.
That is a good exemplification of how my mind works. I have very important work to do but it has to be that work ‘I am meant to do.’
In grade school my teachers would often say to my mother. “If Dillon likes something he will be better at it than anything else. If he doesn’t like it he is going to have many challenges.”
My life I have struggled with focus, with drive, with the exhaustion of years upon years of un-diagnosed sleep disorders as well as various maladies of mental and emotional exhaustion but still I remember being told I was brilliant by teachers in school, winning spelling bees, being very proficient in English and writing as well as regularly confusing adults by how astute, well read and eruditely questioning I was.
High functionality made my liabilities seem faked and that I was playing the victim even if that was furthest from the truth.
High abilities masked my high challenges.
The desire to emulate some of the giftings of the professionally extroverted of the world along with the love for performance, acting and creativity gave a certain degree of childlike normalcy to me whereby I could mask the challenges of me attempting to catch up with the supposed ‘dance of reality’ and the supposed ‘rules of engagement’.
I was an Android Phone in an Iphone world and I did not readily have the software to interpret ‘their’ programs.
A fish out of water.
A star without sky.
Man lone in the woods. That was this guy.
I won’t immediately tell you what this means to me or what I think it means but I will use it as an opportunity to encourage.
I still don’t really know what I am doing.
Even my faith doesn’t necessarily change that… and I think thats ok!
I still don’t really know what I’m doing… I’m learning everyday.
I still don’t really know what I’m trying to do… but I’m still trying to too!
I still don’treally know what I’m doing… and so can you!
Musings of a Picture Frame Conversationalist. 