There is a perilous dichotomy long afoot and growing fast which is that the OUT-THERE nature (organics, minerals, fibres) IS GOOD. And will save us from OUR OWN internal nature, portrayed as inherently CORRUPT.
The body, the organism, the structure is increasingly spotlit as virulent enemy. The body is no longer the cohort, the friend, the ally. (I assure you, it once was the overriding philosophy of life.)
We are now urged to see the human body as secretly on an ever vamped-up march toward our wrenchingly gruesome death. And the OUT-THERE nature will, if properly catered to, keep our human nature from violent self-distruct.
Mother Nature has never had such bad press. Once she was the constant nurturer of, guess who, US, you and me. I know some things. The dawn loves me. The wild birds primp when having their pictures taken. The horses are pleased to be petted. The wind admires our poetry. Flowers and starry starry nights love being painted. And plants prosper and bloom and propagate and thrive under the loving care of their human friends.
Once Mother Nature was the primo source of mutual adoration. These days, why Mother Nature is not only filled with fury and loathing for her stewards, her best creation, humankind, but would, if you believe her new press agents, like to see us all dead. I’m not falling for it. Don’t you fall for it either.
I mean, this is just insane thinking. Which produces fear and alienation. Which sells a huge lot of drugs and vitamins and minerals, exercise plans and diet books. Most of which instruct that we should NOT be happy, NOT enjoy being fearlessly alive, NOT risk the unthinkable pursuit, and instead: cultivate sickness. It sure is the new national crop.
As to our future? Listen to your own heart. All the nightmare being laid out before us by empty-headed prognosticators might work on an alien planet of drones unaccustomed to the delights of revolutionary invention and freedom of movement and a world-wide market place filled with entrepreneurs. But hey, sorry, the genie is out of the bottle and we have had conversations with it and now we’ve invited it home.
This much bandied about talk of the unemployed. Now really. One of the favorite media categories is PEOPLE WHO HAVE LEFT THE WORK FORCE. Okay, I take it as code because it’s not reality. The image intended is a bunch of slackers, huge in number and growing, who decided to stay home and collect welfare and watch TV. In reality, there are growing legions of the out of the workplace self-employed. We may have shadow governing worth worrying about but there is a shadow economy going unobserved. It’s really outside of the common human experience to do nothing and be happy at doing nothing. We like being productive. And we are.
The image of counties and towns and cities and entire states lost to murder, mayhem, burnt out buildings, imploding infrastructure, harassed homeowners, closed businesses and imminent death is a major media favorite. But it’s not mine, and it’s not universal and it’s not all we’ve got. And it’s not all we are. It’s not the country we’re living in.
What we ALSO have got are states and towns and counties and families clean and strong and disease-free and happy. Prospering even! There are pockets of populations among us going down the tubes, but it’s not all there is.
What we’ve got to get used to is not that boo-hoo our toys and pleasures are being whittled away from us by an out of control, genuinely insane politicians, but what are we going to do about it individually to work around the idiots and make what’s changed work in our favor.
Does anyone imagine that because a psychotic mayor of a great metropolis bans sugar and salt and butter from restaurants that the population are not now walking around with salt in their handbags along with sugar and a pound of butter and a pack of smokes from Jersey? What needs some scrutiny is why governing bodies are so keen on fostering black markets. Read up on the success of Prohibition.
Now maybe my childhood filled with dancing, and swimming, and roller skating and a young adulthood of painting billboards from high above city streets and construction jobs and renovating my old house has added to it, but damn, I learned to trust my body. I grow increasingly sensitive to its needs which adds to increased function. But I’m in it for the long haul, and don’t anticipate betrayal, or that mind and body are not happy partnering in considerable rejoicing on a daily basis.
So I have a couple of recommendations. (1). Stop absorbing the propaganda that Mother Nature hates us. It’s a lie. And every contact you’ve ever had proves it false. (2). Just because what was familiar has changed does not mean death is at the door. Reconstruct, get inventive, have a life. And (3). Stop listening to the assumption that you are the enemy in the world in which you live. It’s an outright lie. In fact, Mother Nature is sitting on a rock with her arms open waiting for you to wake up and return for the prodigal’s embrace. And (4). Our bodies are not our enemy. They WE are a life force that’s very clever, geared toward life, wanting to do more than we can yet imagine. Not secretly plotting a death that only the latest hospital machine will unveil so we can hammer the disease-bearing body into submission with a plethora of drugs we may have never needed if we weren’t so continually depressed and squashed and corralled into thinking we did.
This is a fabulous time to be alive. Everything in the world is shifting as dramatically as the move from agrarian to industrial. Expect some screaming. Protest. Disarray. Discomfort. This is a very healthy good country to be living out a life in. Live it. Don’t forget to duck, but live. And for goodness sake, every now and then, UN-buckle the seat belt, leap into something with a murky bottom, run with scissors….. and balance over a very high place on a rope.
>PHILIPPE PETIT<…..walking a tightrope across the World Trade Center Towers….yes he did.
On Wednesday, 7 August 1974, 7:15 a.m., Petit stepped off the South Tower and onto his 3/4″ 6×19 IWRC (independent wire rope core) steel cable. He walked the wire for 45 minutes, making eight crossings between the towers, a quarter of a mile above the sidewalks of Manhattan. And the world fell in love with the guy.
“Within one year, I taught myself to do all the things you could do on a wire. I learned the backward somersault, the front somersault, the unicycle, the bicycle, the chair on the wire, jumping through hoops. But I thought, What is the big deal here? It looks almost ugly. So I started to discard those tricks and to reinvent my art.”
He also became adept at equestrianism, fencing, carpentry, rock climbing and the art of bullfighting. Spurning circuses and their formulaic performances, on the sidewalks of Paris and New York City, he created his street persona.
INVENT YOUR LIFE