A Blip in Time

When history is written, it is sometimes simply documented. Other times, it is wildly embellished.   We know that the stories themselves, not the act of recording, can sometimes be the only history that really matters. History, as it occurs, must be soaked in and cherished as each moment arrives. While reflection will always take place, we still have to channel things into our subconscious. In Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, the leader of a group of intellectuals has an astute moment. The Chief, as he was affectionately referred, impresses himself upon this band of free-spirited existentialists.  These newborn souls were travelling both physically and psychologically - questioning all things and living without oppression.  In a mode of self-proclamation and prophesy, he says “I’d rather be a lightning rod than a seismograph".

Reading this quote, in its simplistic depth, we know that we have to wring the cloth hard to get the real meaning out of it. Here, The Chief alludes to having no interest in simply recording waves verbatim.  There is no latitude, no creativity – no electricity, no release. The Chief's quote says more, though. A lightning rod takes in an electrical current. It attracts and conducts this current to protect its attached structure from damage. To serve this purpose, a lightning rod must have a connection to Earth.  It is grounded. It takes in that current and translates it into something that is not destructive.  A lightning rod translates – it does not record. Because it distracts lightning from the structure it is protecting, it is a catalyst for positive change. Unlike a seismograph, it does not wait for history to happen, but it helps to internalize the course of history…. it implies a helpful and worthwhile experience, becoming intrinsically motivated, electrified, desensitized, and better capable. 

It reminds me of that moment at an outdoor concert, with streams of sky on a cloudy night, where the band strikes the first chord of their most well known ballad. This is the tune where the sweethearts hold hands and look into each other’s eyes, as its familiarity brings back memories of time already spent, igniting passion for history in the making. The sweet melodies, and the acoustical sway, serve as reminders of missed chances and strong emotions stashed away... never to be acted upon. This song creates the atmospheric mood, where the flint of the lighter sparks and a trail of flames cascades the crowd line. Only now, in our modern and digital times, you see something different. The flames have been traded with another light source: a sea of cell phones.  An uninspiring electronic leech, it takes the moment away from you, and instead of channeling history, it records blips in time…. just like a seismograph.

This breeds within me a steep desire to become more in touch with my analog self, to become more grounded, connected to earth, craving high doses of energy and change, however strong the mix may be….

…getting shocked into coherence by breaching the doors of a closed-off society.

……..and "furthur" - being much more than a blip in time. 

Touching on Independence

In light of the recent holiday, let’s talk about what independence means.   Let’s stand up for what we stand for.  Wait. Forget standing up… Let’s stand on our own without being propped up. Whether politically or personally, independence is a state of self-government.  Let’s stretch that definition: Independence is self-reliance.  As a nation, are we really independent? And is that really a stretch of the definition? I think not on both accounts. 

To reach a state of independence, an entity must plant a stake and stand for something. You can become a recluse and pioneer your own way, standing only for the notion that you need nothing society has to offer. Or, as a populace, we can create alliances and separate from our enemies, becoming more independent. And so, political independence comes only through interdependence. We are self-governing but not self-reliant.

The barter system has not been abandoned; our government trades principles and beliefs for power and prestige.  Alliances are made and then broken like childhood promises. Men stare each other in the eye and feign genuine handshakes.  We divvy up pieces of our souls and give them to the people with the most enticing smiles. Morals fall by the wayside. Internal conflict prevails and boundary wars ensue. Truth: In standing for something, you must also stand against something else.  You must denounce something.

Group independence sounds like a dark, black hole.  It must be navigated with the skills of a seamstress; martyrs must send its messages. Independence, with its capacity for change, can be usurped only by what its created conflict destroys. Independence can be like a rogue wave. It crashes down fiercely, wildly, and without restraint. It can also be soft and unspoken, even mumbled without confidence, for it is not necessarily independence that bucks or stands broadly. In a perceived indifference, the silent independent confirms to all that he needs no other – this is true independence. 

The belief system of the silent independent is self-reliance, and no other entity needs to understand his rationale, nor can they take it away from him. A remarkable force, our nation’s independence is made possible by a coalition of people.  Realizing that, let’s again stand for ourselves. Let’s stand for each other. Let’s stand as one. Celebrate this beautiful interdependence with self, society, and soul. 

Lost and Found

I bend. I break. I feel. I fake.

I sit. I breathe. I bare. Bereaved….

…I wear my soul on my sleeve.

I learn naught from my mistakes but that I will make them again….

Once goaded by flimsy desire…

...a boyish predilection that opportunity s t r e a k s in a brazen fashion.

Chance occasion vanishes in a very selfish way, seemingly in an exercise of brash free will. How loathsome an attempt to teach a lesson, cloaked in skylight clarity but in truth with drip-some drab.

That which we cannot deduce is worthy a gaze.  What we already grasp can be inessential. Mystery, while intriguing, is best when not misguiding; elusion is not academic but haughty and unseen.

Trite is excessive though recognized.

Any arduous attempts are then capsized.

The true prize hides in disguise.

Proof comes through practice not presumption.

We walk with intention but not in unison or with obvious direction.  We scare not easily and exercise poise – we neglect transparency.

I am no longer available but am once saddled, ridden, and lost on the horizon. I know no other but a flighty companion, appreciated and accepted as given, learned from and later ostracized. Lost… and then found.

A bickering snit would not stand for any pleasantry, if only, a coy and prying moment brings to light its more human half.   And though we seek fresh water, we pollute fresh air. Breathing, so self-governed, is not affected by our sensibilities or superficialities; what we need most is what we do not have.

Our orientation is in limbo.

Clarity chokes at the threshold.

Open further to see more deeply.

Lose sight to find again under different light.

And so you stray… you reel back in...

…destitute for the purpose of growth….

The long term may suffer but the vision would ne’er been born. Step off the front stoop - take a firm step in concert and effort. Plant and arrive. The anxiety of “next” can be a sinkhole; choose to dredge along and stay encumbered. Choose to plant…. and arrive.