How will you 'leap' into the new day, the new year, the new You?
This is my quest and question to my self, My Self, shared here with you.
Caution: Not for the faint of heart. This piece links to a very illuminating, sad read on the recently deceased Serviceman Aaron Bushnell's self-immolation The piece exposes for me the effects of the late serviceman’s choice, on my own being, not as a starting point but a continuation of what has become of Planet Earth — maybe what it always has been under human watch and I’m slowing accepting this as fact.
Still, I wish to persist.
Personally, I do not know how to view this choice because I do not know all that led to the moment for him nor for any of the others mentioned at the start of the piece.
I continue to believe in finding one's voice to light the world on fire with art, wisdom, hope and influencing your own small world.
Read on, forward as you desire.
I started the day yesterday by acting out in a (virtual, text thread) form of what I would describe as articulate disappointment but in a self-imaging-as-tantrum. I followed that up by dressing down a cashier who insists every time I order on providing me bags, containers she says I need even when I say I do not. I could do better.
In writing an apology note and hand delivering, it was not to excuse my histamine - chocolate recovery. Note to self: Wine and dessert are a no-no, esp. on an empty stomach.
IDK. In the moment I believed it was setting the marker on a form of communication and action inequity I perceived to be. In reality, it was communication driven by discomfort and fatigue, my ego summarily susceptible to the effects, not rooting out the cause.
This led me to reflect in every next course of action, dialogue and thought I undertook, centering around tyranny: The tyranny of language; the tyranny of the minority; and the tyranny of those who would, like I do in my weakest moments, act out instead of looking inward at the self.
From the rivers to the mountains and valley streams, from the suburbs to the bomb-devastated ghettos, from farm to table, rural to high rise city living, from every sea to shining sea, every person, in every corner of the globe, deserves to be free. Free to be. Free to seek. Free to live. Sleep. Dwell in shelter. Pray. Eat. Love.
Worth the read to remember what genocide does to a people, their past -- present -- future.
Forward to anyone whom you believe deserves to be free.
I don't know if prayers -- for Syrians, Ukrainians, Palestinians, Uyghurs, hostages and prisoners of political persecution rotting to die in cells, poisoned and pushed off balconies, whole swaths of history -- if prayer helps.
God Help U.S.A.LL. That’s a little joke. The whole world, let’s be blunt, needs a reset, something that was lost in the wake of a pandemic that seemed to be a true moment of awakening to what might be and only catalyzed, cannibalized the planet’s metabolism, metastasizing all the endemic sickness that already plagues us all, every being from the tiniest microbes to the largest Sequoia.
From the window to the wall, 'til the sweat drips off my balls, I won't stop in my own meek way attempting to speak when it seems of consequence and mostly trying to listen.
Cheers, Genocide Joe! You did it!! You won Michigan.
https://www.thenation.com/article/society/aaron-bushnell-gaza-self-immolation/