Did the hippy revolution change anything? We still hear the same old meaningless rhetoric. There are ‘the power of now’ thumpers. They just switched the book.
Let’s look at these serious situations. Seriousness, hmm. What use is that idea? I do these talks because I am completely willing to be foolish.
Is nature serious? Is a hunting wolf serious? I suspect not. I suspect it is just hungry. What would happen if it were serious about hunting?
He would need a strategy and plan drafted up and likely never get around to the hunt. Yes. He wouldn’t just go sink its teeth into that rabbit, which works just fine for them most of the time.
I remember catching a purse-snatcher once. It was definitely a hunt. The adrenaline was hilarious. For at least two hours afterwards, I was ecstatic. It wasn’t serious. Seriousness is actually totally useless.
Have you seen the Batman movie “Dark Knight”? The Joker is a living avatar of seriousness. I mean that fully. I identify with him perhaps more than I am comfortable with. For me, since early childhood my life was very serious. Something was wrong with me. They had to fix me. They felt very guilty about it and made sure I was taught everything I needed to know about being someone who is different. They made me very serious, made me loose my mind. When I lost it, I discovered I didn’t need it really. The serious people don’t have their minds either, just delusions they call mind. So sometimes I play with them, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes it’s just no fun because they are dead. Functionally dead.
Having lost my mind I saw it in pieces, and having had my mind shattered I asked myself; What was that anyway? How could it work since it didn’t work when I was being serious. When I was being a “good boy”? I suffered many heartbreaks in the name of being a good boy. Never was there any reward. Who has been rewarded?
How many times was I told to ignore someone who was making fun of me instead of getting them back. By being the good, grown up girl. Yes. Has that been rewarding?
When my brother acted up he got nothing either except Moms attention.
I’ve noticed that I’ve only ever been praised for stuff that didn’t matter to me.
I did what I was told. Did well in school. Never got in trouble. My rewards were debt and depression.
I came to a conclusion. What they would not give me, what I could not earn, I have to take. They say life isn’t fair. This is usually a cop-out and a half truth. Maybe one of the most useless sayings people have. What it comes down to is this paradox. Life is not a game, and life is a game. The rule makers are players and there are no referees, just more aggressive players.
No one is keeping score of this game, but you will have to play. What happens when you play by their rules? Do these other players have any reason to make fair rules? If they do, then how can they “win”? I myself play to loose. I like breaking the game. I like making the world outside of the game very clear. It’s my way to force their hand. It’s my own “card” to play, and yes, they must be forced at least while they are still playing. Sometimes people take a break with me and we talk, and sometimes new insights can be had, but ultimately we all must go back to playing. Is any of this serious?
It’s a joke, but they don’t get the joke so I hear crying. They cry, and I cry inside even as I laugh at the horror of the situation, and the beat goes on. My heart beat and their heart beat, but how will I win today? How will you? Do you want to?
Your thoughts are welcome. Be well friends.One World class participants. Thank you!)