Satan Handling Job/How we handle each other...

Social stigma and judgement remains interesting to me. And, not only because I have engaged in it, but because more often than not, I am often subject to it in ways that may or may not be fair. And, as we’ve all come to know: nothing in life is fair – ever. And, what’s often left out: what’s always fair is my response to it no matter how isolating or punitive the result. And, of course they deserved it.

In the first season of the Downton Abbey, the Dowager Countess remarks, “I have plenty of friends I don’t like.”  And in may ways, it is our friends who hold us to the strongest judgements. Even our closest friends will judge, canvass the jury and execute you if only as punishment for your inability to conform to the ideas, expectations and perceptions of the direction life. Indeed, I suppose this kind of bonded conformity is what makes friendships, but wouldn’t it rather be better if we all understood the emotional and psychological gaps within ourselves, reflected upon those within ourselves than in others and by that way build better relationships? And, the result: there’d be nothing to talk about; that colorful person would grayscale against the  examined color of our individual lives. Of course, I don’t know the answer, and in my fallibility I am more than certain attention to my own faults are more than enough to keep me from judging another’s.

But this is how life goes until one by one we all die, and in the moment before we’re dispatched, when all the experiences and relationships we gained, loved, lost and poorly sustained crystallizes into a moment of release and relief to pass away. My only hope is that I’ve not done anything to keep me within the cycle of incarnation, and that I may be able to pass forward into the empyrean realm as nothing more than a wavelength of the lightest and highest energy – and may God’s good will be with me for I am not so sure that’ll happen, after all I put my pants on one leg at a time like everybody else.

To return to the main idea, I sometimes don’t know how to deal with people. As an emotional hemophiliac maybe most people have no idea of how to interact with me. At one time I willed myself to love, forgive, forget and forge forward relationships with people polluted with the trash of their own lives, with people who cared not for my sensitivity insofar as they appointed themselves my flay and salt to toughen me. That makes me and still makes me sad. And, we’re not victims, and the dominant lesson is to leave people. Be social of course but never allow people, except a few (less than 10, perhaps fewer), beyond the breakwater to dock at your heart lest you learn too late the ship flew a false flag to carry marauders – and to perchance risk loneliness portends the best blessing.

In a world of billions of people, our capacity compete over dwindling resources only means we’ve to out compete each other for the privilege of care and emotion – it is a due of accomplishment. Coming from a materially marginalized background  (simply put: humble) does not mean you are not worthy of emotional connections and considerations; more often coming from a poor background only means your are worthy of charitable concern, a cordon and to be the object of perception upon which one’s actions raise or lowers the fickle confidence of others in you. This also entails being the object of platitudes, and incomprehension from promontories of presumptuous calm that rarely grasps the  maelstrom a marginalized life buffets. And, when that comprehension is present, the honor is to be aware, respect it and not tax it to the point that the next man down the road has no access to it. Even the poor can judge the expense and means of the heart to greedily consume more than needs, and bruise the generous. What’s up for critique are those to think they are generous, who can count the ways and efforts of their generosity within a balance sheet. After effecting an emotional, psychological and physical thrashing to provision a band-aid for the broken leg with the tibia projecting through torn skin –  the critical observer’s upon the height and oxygenating rampart of cruelty that keeps a dead black heart on life support.

It’s never a question of mental capacity.  No, it’s a question for the judged individual to surmount the weight of perception, disregard and petty challenges waged against them, against attempts to frustrate, and tests upon the mettle of those under consideration for worthiness.  And, about those judging: well they’ve been judged, maybe found wanting, and have taken to the pleasure gained from administering judgement.  I suppose these are one of the trespasses mentioned in Lord’s prayer.

The cliché: only God can judge, only S/He’s omniscient to judge (which not to say wise judges in earthly courts have no place) the totality of a human life.

The real deal: in these infinitesimal moments, snapshot witnesses to the lives of others – we judge with the conviction, finality and sanctimony of that old Adversary that unceasingly demerits humanity’s creation. And, our own judgements are those sheafs of evidence that makes full the Devil’s dossier presented on high. The discredit of humanity.  If at some point in all our lives we know (if we’ve read) the fullness of the Book of Job, a book older than Genesis, outlining the jobs of judgment we visit upon each other, each day and subject each other to the fullness of our perceptions: then we’d know for sure  the compassion cast into the dust, and the warmth of loneliness as the choice companion.

Profound Sadness has been with me for as long as I can remember. And, I never want it to go away because it bears other gifts like perception, sensitivity, intelligence and thoughtfulness that I hold dear because they have been like instinctual guides.

But, like with any daemon there’s  a flaw, or a few even, that I accepted as is, and without the smallest effort to buck it. Along with the beauties of Profound Sadness comes it’s more pernicious elements: shyness, confidence deflation, personal esteem flux and the counter-intuitive pleasures of withdrawing from life.

On my journey, I have for many years mal-adapted my Profound Sadness. I reposed under its protective cloak, and with the distance away from the world of living, to fall into myself to privately drown, inhaling deeply to achieve physical asphyxiation. And, I could sense from observing others in life’s full sail that perhaps my sense of Profound Sadness was just something I had.

Something uniquely mine that gave shade and color to my personality. And, how did I animate my flesh? With the electricity of intelligence. A facsimile to seem like all people or a living wraith of flesh and bone vacant in the presence of living without even the vital inspiration motivated by hormones.

And, alone to myself and, perhaps, to other persons the real issue may have been known but without a name, an identifier that enables a method to target and constructively deal with it. And, sometimes it takes one’s own journey with active progress, adverse challenges and the willingness not to let the negatives of Profound Sadness retard the distant  goal of becoming whole and alive. To temper the wish to leave this world, to be destined to the next with exhilaration unknown popularly in the last 125 or so years.

Within me makes it difficult to name, segregate and circumscribe Profound Sadness.  If  appearing as an external challenge,  like a hard to deal with personality at work, or a concrete physical problem requiring intellectual or physical effort to resolve, an obvious, even if tricky solutions may also appear.

Without light translucence reigns ...,

My vitality, with the depths of oceans heavily clouded with the seaweeds of memory, psychology, dreams, hopes, desires, external interactions and experiences, completely restrained the light shining upon life’s surface. Even the hinting glints of light, the glowing presence failed to penetrate my veil. The confidence to swim through to break my head past the surface is something all together different.

This year, a revitalizing 2011 has been a remarkable one, because 2010 violently extracted emotional, psychological, physical and spiritual tolls with the pressure and force of fracking. A rough hand cracking my chest to manually pump my heart.

The result: an eruption of myself into life that shocked my awareness of its panoply of experiences, being a human being  - flesh, blood, offal that  I resisted, attempted to recoil and retreat to a sure untouchable remove.

There are no ghosts in the luminescence of the Moon.

Consciously asleep did I live the earlier decades  willfully  and unaware of it. Can you wake everyday, go to school, work, shop and interact as an undead? Yes. And, to awaken to life left me in despair and resentment, except it was to mourn the embalmed comfort of my previous state, the progress to the crematorium  that appeared incomprehensible to people losing their health and lives.  My comforting tomb of seaweed and darkness.

With new awareness: I live. Then, came another: how so? And, if I am to live well, then what is the procedure? And, there are no switches, pulleys or gears that can produce the result – only living each moment and experience to comprehension enables a method of surviving and thriving.

And, I have spent this past year taking steps, falling flat on my face, but falling forward nonetheless into self-discovery not   pickled or enshrouded in a haze. Yes, there have been missteps (no one is perfect) but unlike in the past this makes a successful year, one of an awareness of self-correction, and the strength of character to recognize it and do over.

In this comes revitalization ushered by the people coming into and going out of my life. Sometimes, I am still slow on the uptake, but with fewer words I get it. Only still, I hesitate to go ahead because in any new experience mistakes made, learned from and fortify for future success.

For the past few months here, I have been more reflective.

Yes, it’s easy to know and blissfully disappear into Profound Sadness.  Given my life, it is understandable. Yet, coping with it: Focusing on the word “coping” is something that had not occurred to me until today, as I lay wide awake in bed bereft of sleep.

The deep is always there...

Yes, I have methods of dealing with external issues, but successfully dealing with the internal eluded me. Yoga and meditation present great routine, but they are  not incisive. They promote distance, not critically close inspection of fleeting thoughts. The tool for that: rumination.

I have reflected. Thinking. Writing this blog to begin to pull back the seaweed, catch sight of light filtering through the surface. I untangle the  cloaking Profound Sadness converted to it.

Does it mean I leave Profound Sadness? No. I will have always Profound Sadness as my composition, not environment.

Being told, and how to know how to do certain things to mitigate Profound Sadness requires different means.

Identifying it, giving it a name and distance with a label means to make its antidote.  To do this means other experiences of life remain distanced.

And, no one can do it for me, even if they could awaken me, it could have only been achieved through my experiences upon awakening.

And the rescue is time.

“Marge, it takes two to lie – one to lie, and one to listen. (Homer Simpson)”

So, I beg forgiveness every hour because in this world there is no survival without some deception and that’s different from holding a secret.  Make up, breast implants, Lycra, clothes of all sorts convey something that’s really not there or distract from something we don’t want another to see. If we all went about naked, then I perceive there would be a greater willingness to tell the truth, and, alas, there’s no profit in it.

What’s rather interesting is that in this age as any other, the premium on the truth has never been higher. In fact, the name of the game is to catch you in a lie, but never to catch you in the truth. This results in a paradox of sorts because it implies that the nature of survival in this world is to either lie or in some way deny the truth. The most successful humans are those who can do a special blend of both so their credibility can support the shade of it.  And, I find the best thing is to say nothing.

Even when I tell a shade of the truth, and I hear something returned that’s different from what I said, then I say nothing because the person didn’t listen the first time so why correct them the second? Perhaps, it’s something to make what I’ve said stick, but even that takes courage and the ability to make someone uncomfortable for the time being. And, this is something I have to learn to get used to.

Sometimes, I would really like to not interact with people at all. I am rather bad at it. I want to remove, be an observer, un-involved so that I do not have to risk any virtue.  But, that is not the test of virtue or the lesson gained.

It’s really interesting to know this, and yet try to truthfully operate with

The scythe in the hand of Father Time - Hardly Grim

the honor of honesty. I once was an unwise truth teller, many years ago. I have only learned in the last couple of months that the time that I told the truth, that truth came back to haunt me in an unexpected way – at work and to my professional disadvantage. I was brave and told the truth and in the end I achieved a negative result. How can that be? If I tell a lie and I am found out, I suppose the only thing to do is tell the truth:  I told you a lie, but you can do the same with the truth as well. The two actions require courage. But, I gather the idea was the wisdom in telling the truth and the advantage is having to face the mistake and moving forward is to gain. In many ways, I suppose this is how one builds integrity. It doesn’t come automatically and untested – but through the track of growth.

But, in some ways I guess that’s better to have the truth come back to you than a lie. But when people are so willing to believe a lie and make people pay for telling the truth then is trust a valued bond anymore? Does it have any weight, if trust can float upon a lie? Of course there are people in certain circumstances you should not lie to, but if they present a lie then does one owe them the truth? I did not know who you were, and I required defense. But, also, if feeling the need to embroider the truth, then when does a stitch become an intricate pattern? Is it not still a stitch? This is one reason why I suffer from lacuna, it’s such a marvelous condition. To not remember things at times when even the shortest interval of the time has passed, to be unable to recall, to draw the memory as the mind speeds with the light. This, as another may see it, maybe seen as disadvantage.

Can it be that our world should really believe in forgiveness to maximize the value of truth? I perceive this is the answer, but there are others who would not accept forgiveness as an appropriate recompense, but will administer the punishment as well.  And, that undermines the truth.

And, sometimes telling the truth presents  so stupendous an effect that it cannot be believed.  For example, I sometimes wish for direction, and then I fear the an unknown trap and run for freedom. This is something that has been hard for me to understand. I’ve had to learn it on my own and, thankfully, there were those there willing to let me go to learn it with all of its attendant bruises and scrapes. But, I have learned it, as each day has gone by, I have had to come into awareness of it. This is one way that truth can emerge, if one faces it directly to counter the lie that would mask it under the morality of respectability to oneself or friends. To do this, myself or anyone, only means the mustard seed of faith in oneself and, perhaps, others may grow depending on the soil.

But, it’s only asinine to say simply that we all need to stop lying. There’s no self protection or, even, wisdom there. I suppose the best thing to do is to consider the touchstone of faith for the overarching aim to be good.

We are all Cherubs

The lessons of my life have led me to this crystallized message as brilliant and as clear as a diamond: the challenges of life provide for the opportunities of chances. With each chance one makes open greater the gate to further fulfillment and enlightenment; a process that is as confusing for me as it is for my friends and family.

As read from some of my recent posts, I have indeed been a ruminating on many things that have brought me to this thought: Rebound boldly and rebound with the strength of character!

Life,  in all of its affronts and its graces, has the only the capacity to burnish the souls of men and women with the courage to stay steadfast in the belief that we are all  here for some purpose as mysterious as the evolving of all species of life on Earth. And, for me, one of those sources of continual encouragement and renewal remains the kindness of those around me, despite the vibrations that I may feel. Still, it means ignoring the questions of the  motivations of a person’s advice, and still being able to recognize the goodness of the act is what gains. But, recognition does not happen in a formula, but can only be gained though the thoughtful insights provided by the Biblical dictum of Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.”

Gaining this peace and ability to still the noise of thought, emotion and psychology starts with a clearing of my head. For me, the cull of noise manifests though meditation, rudimentary yoga and prayer. And, for others, how to achieve this remains only an answer the individual can pursue to satisfaction and understanding. This process will entail that I remain dutiful to the goal of gaining an enlightened spirit so that I can radiate that which will serve me beyond the material realm well into the divine of the hereafter. But, whilst remaining on earth, heart beating, blood flowing and desires – well - blossoming into healthy relationships, it is also good to know that at least my spirit is calm.

During a recent professional experience, I could not understand how such a lucky chance could be fraught with painful exposures to another individual’ s overwhelming negativism (Destructive Leadership Traits).  And, perhaps I never will.

One take away for me has been that I remained poised, professional and the sweetest of people despite it. Needless to say,  it was rather tough to deal with a boss with such destructive leadership as well as his negative persuasion of others to follow the heathenish example  (The toxic triangle: Destructive leaders, susceptible followers, and conducive environments). And, I can only believe the driving force for the agenda to be deeply personal, and without the maturity required of the person in the role of a manager.

In my process of understanding it, I have read bell hooks’s book “We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity”, which has validated me as a black man and confirmed that many who are not able to do so, will not ever perceive me in a positive light. Being an American black man enfold the encumbrances of an economic, historical and social experiences that I found my former manager to believe proper to ridicule, though I see them as strengths.

Specifically, he salted the fallow professional grounds of the work space with revealing my aspects about my youth (which I never told him), and with the offensive cultural devaluing of the call and response tradition in the American black protestant church (and I am Catholic) along side  hostile behavior and attempts to influence me to debase myself professionally. For me to accept any of that negativity would only mean that I have lost a crucial part of myself: positiveness and optimism which is what my former manager sought to devour with his sinister interactions. The lesson for me remains: Rebound boldly and rebound with the strength of character!

It has taken me some days to fully execute it, however. But, as I sat in my dark apartment and listened to the self-help guru Manly P. Hall, I realized that this is an experience whereby the spiritual forces of the Universe will grade and guide me. It brought to my mind all the love people have shown me. The reflections brought to remembrance demonstrated lessons of how to never let people get you down, and how to fight back with the expressionism of life and wellness of being, for another’s illness is certainly not my own.

The Lesson: To see Divinity in me is to recognize Divinity in you.

And, for all of us, the challenge of being among others will be also chances to deploy the beauty of our souls and spirits. For me it has been a reminder of the terrors of the past, those clear examples of when humans failed to see the divine within their fellow-man, and to foster it in the communion with their own inner spirituality.

In one dream, I was a babe, like those cherubim drawn in Renaissance, Rococo and Baroque paintings, running upon a mountain road chasing after another child like me. And though the road inclined alongside a cliff with a darkened valley below, the trees growing out of the side of hill, their leaves, the atmosphere and upon the city in the far off distance on the horizon  appeared within the warmest light and tones of gold – and not like the light of the Sun, which is a poor facsimile of that I know exists elsewhere.

This dream encourages me to carry on after the periods of darkness. That image and the interventions of those who I barely knew and who I do well know are the chances to see the opportunities to persevere in the face of humans without or the within the willingness to illumine their souls. C.S. Lewis has it right “You do not have a Soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.” And, I shall proceed accordingly.

And in this, I remain compassionate for that manager without the heart to help but hinder. That manager who told me with glee the pain he caused an overweight girl in England while he learned English by turning people against her for the malevolent joy of making fun of her.  This is a spiritual limitation that bars a person from union of the spirit that is holy because it is not husbanded within in them.

This is a note to myself of how to see more carefully in the silence and stillness of the Lord for the highness or the lowness emanating from the hearts of men and manifested by the former’s beauty  and the latter’s ugly realities.

For no matter your religion or belief or lack thereof, when we are good to one another, when we give to others as we would give to ourselves as explicitly commanded or implicitly observed by Faith, then we have come into the song of the Universe, and we have made its Power exceedingly glad.

When I am in the presence of many people for whom I don’t feel familial love or close friendship, but rather an association , I understand a subtext with a subtlety beyond description whether I am engaged in conversation or simply listening.  I am not prone to seeing ghosts nor am I a clairvoyant.  Rather it is the ability to look into another person’s eyes and to sense non verbally what they may or may not feel and to gain a sense of what they may expect me to do or how they would provoke me, or even if they want to extract something from me that only I can give.  But, I am removed as if watching it from afar. Here in Tunis, a French friend pointed out to me the subtle racism that I receive and whether I noticed it. And, invariably I did not until it was pointed out. However, by not noticing it, I also protected myself from the pain of someone’s inherent idiocy.

But, in most cases, regrettably,  I can be overly sensitive to aspects of social interactions that may well not be present in any reality except that within my own head – and to stop thinking about each second of an interaction,  I remove into solitude. Being able to get beyond my own head to successfully engage with others has been fraught with trepidation and an inability that my intellect does not promise. And, I can’t account for it except to know that I and everyone else has their sides and imperfection and pain may lurk together.

Seven Sisters - The Pleiades (Courtesy of NASA)

Even when I crush the doubts of my own suitability within a social group, I invariably become sensitive to the dynamics driving the group and the scenarios of conflict.  And, this means my interest in the group is subject to a critical awareness of elements that make it sustainable or not.  More than this, being able to see what motivates a  concert of individuals towards a goal, objective or station or even the presentation of gender only signals to me the impermanence of that person’s bond with me should I not somehow position my self to facilitate it – which happens.  This aspect of human interaction, this keystone of socialization in a world of ambitious strivers makes me immensely uncomfortable. This aspect of humanity also disturbs me because of the agendas.

Some people want a racial and social loyalty that I simply cannot provide as a fixed identify in a world of shifts and changes. I don’t know my own past, so it seems rather manipulative for anyone to assert an identity upon me without the proof beyond appearance, and perhaps this lack of proof is the best thing for me:  I don’t have the burden of a past with a group of people I needed to deal with by virtue of a blood tie, but it can be solitary otherwise. Rather, sealing bonds through love and shared experiences is the best way to form these links. Shared cultural experiences also qualify as a quantifier for me, but with each person’s experiences in this world being so varied, is there any validity to a monolithic perception? Has not the world seen the terrible damage wreaked by mass identities? Perhaps, not.

While I think the solidity of the identity is amazing to behold, it invariably signals a form of restriction. It’s not that I have not been at one time like this myself, but after having my own psychology, emotions and personal esteem trammeled by others,  I have resolved to remain distanced from most people for the sake of emotional and psychological preservation – and many friends remain distanced perhaps because of a mutual understanding of  it.

Indeed, it would be immensely painful to think otherwise – say a friend remianing at a distance to punish me and knowing how well it would work given my sensitivity – to promote abandonment as a method of their own self-validation – a conviction of thier own perspective.  And, it only necessitates new friends, regrettably because once guilt sets in, well, no relationship can function well after it.

The fact that I have to make a living and pay my bills means that I engage at some level with this method of social interaction, but these days with my most recent professional experience distastefully lingering like the sting of a rod, I do wonder if somehow life experience has made it impossible to function normally. That is, to set boundaries and protect myself – have a thicker skin and get on with it. And, untimately: have carved out the right path, or any,  for myself that will allow me to thrive. I fear not being able to that, but I have discipline to keep me going, sometimes.

This wonder derives from the social experiences – that, perhaps, interacting with people will be a pleasure only in limited interactions, and a harrowing pain if being “social” is overdone. My objective not to disturb anyone’s emotions is as impossible as another person’s actions not disturbing my own. But, what if that could happen? Would that be healthy? Would I miss out on the things about life extolled by the poet – love, loss and remembrances?  And, what if these expereinces become prisons of pain? Or if I get tired of getting on with it? Sometimes I do want to give up and lie there for death to claim me, remove me from life, but that means I’ve not fought on to achieve that unknown goal that releases me from the cycle of incarnation. Perhaps the better aim would be to understand my sensitivity in the first place, and operate successfully within it the best I know how.  I would have to wonder if I belong in a group or if I should remove to a rural countryside and remain to my thoughts for a number of years in order to better cope with life and maybe achieve some success as a writer.

It certainly is not as if my life and it’s winding road has not showcased more than a few successes during its long the journey. But getting back to the distance of perspective even when standing face to face with another person, what can be the benefit of such a capability? I feel to be a constant observer without the inter-connectedness that allows people to link into each other presents the universal truth: None of us are linked into each other and are rather linked into a larger existence we presume to see represented in each other. The only problem with the latter is, whether it be subconsciousness, a lover’s or friend’s eyes or God, there’s no accounting for it because the reference point remains ourselves – individual bodies of matter with the limitations of words and conversation to incompletely bridge the gap of vast distance totally.

A gaze can bring greater connection than a spoken or written word that enables a slew of  manipulations for underlying meanings (which does not mean I think words are useless – I have a text blog).

A sacred remove in the gaze, with only the connection of light between the two eyes. Perhaps once we understand this as human beings the sooner we can achieve the miracle of quantum computers. It enables facial expressions to be the introduction and communication that may even raise the quality of the world’s standard of living – for compassion is truly the emotional computation of the light shared between the eyes, the link to the light of the stars to the ultimate source of the light of the divine.

For in many ways, then, this must be what I see – what I feel – and what each and every sentient human being attempts to unify within the limitation of the word – Logos and light. But, sometimes it signifies when such a combination is unrequited for a number of years, a retreat into nature, into the remove for restoration. To remove from people requires my courage to understanding only my own social limitations. And to link into the knowledge that it is the unitary fabric that binds us all – that sacred remove called by  that name emotion. But how can we stop hiding them or behind them? How can I learn to only see the light an eye and be motivated to initiate a conversation without the interceding thought spoiling the chance to connect to the divine within another? For it’s fine to be alone to seek the Lord, how can the motivation be gained to seek hi m in another?

And, I suppose that’s the consolation of the quote above: It doesn’t matter for you can burn brightly alone or in concert, just burn.

Spiritual Solemnity

In this era there are very few cultural icons that capture effectively the mood of melancholy. The aesthete does, but these are individuals of letters and music that do not penetrate the noise of popular culture sufficiently to present a compelling example. It can be rather disheartening to see it so for there are popular figures like Kim Kardashian and her 72 days marriage to remove all of the oxygen from the atmosphere of public life to leave those of us with dreams of everlasting love gasping in apnea. And, what about romance? It’s a sham if a 72 day marriage can defined as such. And as for modernity, well, the Frenchman Beuadelaire finely defined its excesses and its ephemeral states in his poetry. However may be my longing for an emotion that enraptures without divorce from the hand of my beloved, it is without a doubt that my being born and a participant in this modern age only assures that I, too, am tainted with it’s lesser than noble qualities. After all, I have a computer. But, what is regrettable is the absence of the dream to contrast – even resist – this materialist domination of things spiritual, natural even honorable and noble. The very lexicon of the incorporeal is absent even within some of those institutions from whence it issued, as many are lined with gospels of the empirical rather than the ethereal.  Indeed, the fact that melancholy is a word most commonly associated if not defined as depression is a another example of the clinical displacing the imperceptible, which cannot be measured in a lab, but exists within the realm of the emotions.  And, the result: an unholy absence of aesthetics in modernity. In many ways this a how an institution like the British monarchy can survive because it stands in severe contrast to the cunning of institutions without a human quality;  that it may be retained and presented over decades of time with it’s human faults and foibles that can repair the office with repentance rather than institutional cover-ups, or so it may naively seem.  And, this the dreich that cannot be transfigured proceeds forth to encompass itself, and projects forth its enshrouding darkness to de-light the very spirits of men and women  indistinguishably. And, those whose hearts succor for the elevation of their spirits and the illumination of their souls in good deeds do not rank as celebrities, but as fools financially marginalized as it has always been in ages current and bygone. But, in no matter the form it appears or in whatever age, the dreich marches on dishonoring every age without distinction. This is also conveniently ignored by purist religious fundamentalists the world over, who begrime their axioms of spiritual faith to the most high with  materialist aims unworthy of the idylls promised. And, mayhap this melancholy is what leaves me removed from the realms of reality without my elegant hand extended; for the dream is enough, but not quite. My corporeal longings beg for it not to be true. A dream from which I awake to only find myself in an empyrean reminiscent of the final scene of Pan’s Labyrinth. Something so removed from the ill-ranked reality, leaves of images falling from the dead tree under which I stand seeking green shoots of new and sustained growth. But, for the sake of hope, the happenstance of hope, the tree may flower vestiges heretofore unseen by my eye. For to think it not possible is unbearable and presents only the company of my dreams unrequited and a proof of my disquiet.

And I have risked and gained love, friends and experiences from around the world that in the end enrich me and make me happy. Even though my time in Tunis has not been stress free, as is seen in my first few posts, I have had some positive highlights here.   I have risked and am much-loved by my family in Bangladesh, Canada and the US who I love deeply in return. I have friends around the world who want me to visit, if not stay with them. Sometimes, when the present is sour, it only takes the ending of that experience to brighten the day and the future. And, now that this time has come, I can return to my happiness. I can count the ways without some source of negativity greeting me in the morning and faring me well in the evening. Ahh, to be able to do Yoga for my own’s sake and not to have to prevent myself from cussing out someone, if not losing my composure during the day. This feels so much better.

I have always wanted to fit into a group and as I go forward on my path, I learned that how I envision my life is not how the universe sees the trajectory of it. I have come to a place where I am centered, concentrated and concerned about my future. Prior this point, some  years ago now, I planned my educational and professional life to the inch only to realize that as I plan it other things enter into my world and alter it. And, the only bad thing has been my resistance to accepting the change, and growing from it and to take the lessons so that my inner growth leads me to the place where I fit and truly create something. And, the future can only be as fearful as I allow it. So, then, I actively reject that so that other things may come in and manifest my destiny and success.

It is good to be able to look to the future, and to chart one’s own path. Many people do not for many reasons, and they make their lives work out in a way that approximates the dream or image of what they want their life to be. But, not me. I leave the future open because when I have sought to envision a material future on Earth, it doesn’t work for me. So, I had to gain the courage to accept that my future is will be what it will be, which is not un-visioned, and not the same thing as unconscious or aimless. It’s a future that I have to seek and find for myself.

I grew up in a way that has fashioned my independence, but I know that I am hard wired like all humans to empathize. And, it has not been bad in many ways. I have seen many parts of the world, and I am certain my 10,000 years of good fortune awaits.  The only thing that is that it requires of me is be still and listen to my inner voice and the develop my inner light so that I may be able to see it clearly. Yes, I have made decisions that seem to fail, but I know that these experiences are wealth beyond any material measure because they encourage me to carry on to the next point in my life with hope. And, hopefulness is what will gain me my fortune and my path. And, I determine to learn and take the lesson as it is and it will work out even though I cannot see how. But, I have faith that no turn in life is worthless. Only the thought that it’s not of any value to me is what would have sold me short. So, here’s to being brave, accepting the present and preparing for a bright future that’s with me already because I’ve made success and I am success.  Let me dream this night and let me focus on my day so that my next step in my path become clear and manifests itself in a way more beautiful than I could have ever planned or imagined.

Guess what? It’s really all about how me or you, as individuals, look at these experiences and incorporate them into your views on life. I came to Mr. Hall’s lectures during a random YouTube search on alchemy, and found that alchemy is something that we all are capable of doing. When we digest food, we are participating in an alchemical process. Hall references so many different religious and social traditions from around the world and left me feeling such positiveness that I’ve added him to my Facebook list of inspirational people.

In one lecture, “Stand Aside and Watch Yourself Go By”, Hall explains that the ego and the drive to selfishly succeed at the expense of other people  is ultimately an unhealthy practice and that it’s only through love that we, as humans, are able to make the world the wonderful and good place that it is.

As a self-help item, Hall’s lecture compelled me to continue building my inner spiritual light by working purposefully to  improve my views about life, and how to concretely take an experience and learn how that moment occurred for my ultimate benefit.

I’ve lived many places around the world. And, I’ve seen both the highs and lows of life. I know and accept that the world is a crazy and impermanent place to be as a human being during a time of great change. For many years, even to this day, I am still trying to understand and integrate the various experiences I’ve had in my 31 years into a whole and fully functioning person that is a net giver.

Now, my emotional and psychological maturity does not reflect the norm, and it never did.  My survival is a testament to this, but with each new experience in my life, I’ve taken new lessons and learned so that I could move forward. Sometimes, the lessons were hard and at others not so much. But, the latter don’t have the same benefit as the former, and while it may hurt to go through them – hard lessons build character, moral strength and positive convictions to guide us all to a better life on Earth or in the hereafter. I prefer a good life here and after death, thank you very much. But, when the tough times come, I am ready all the same to seek the value of the opportunity.

I left Los Angeles at 19 and never looked back. The fact that I never learned to drive only necessitated I live in a city with a proper transportation network. Los Angeles had the best inter-city rail system at the turn of the 20th century, but it was progressively replaced by freeways and automobiles by the 1960′s. The film “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” pinpoints a moment of moments when the psychology of Los Angeles changed for the worse with the rising darkness of smog and the development of macabre landscapes harbored in the city over the next decades. And, it’s a part of me that I’ve taken along for the ride.

But, Mayor Tom Bradley had some heart and convinced the city to restore it’s public transportation network, with some stiff resistance from the well-heeled (they never figured thieves have cars and are unlikely to use the train after robbing them). I lived in Watts in the 1990′s while the new transport network was (and is) slowly being built, and the Blue line, the first line to open, did not take me to some of the more happening sections of town. So,  I used it to go directly to the Main library downtown as that was the one safe and sacred place in a city full of drugs, gangs and death. And, I went Downtown after the local county library closed and nearest the city library didn’t have as much to offer. Such are the politics of funding truly worthwhile public goods.

In any case, I left L.A. and went to an ultra wealthy and small liberal arts college in Massachusetts. The fact such a world existed without my having known it , literally blew my mind and left it in many pieces. I couldn’t figure out how such wealth could allow the misery and decay I’d seen in Watts. It’s not that I didn’t know wealth existed, I knew that from my childhood in Lafayette Square. What incensed me was the excess of wealth and the lack of concern many of my college classmates wore like badges of honor. And, when I first got to that College on the Hill, I tried to fit in with the snobs. I was to make myself over and be the outgoing person that I couldn’t be in Los Angeles, and I got good grades and made good friends and repeated the same lines I heard at the lunch table despite their callous zing.

As I sowed soon I reaped. One day around the 8th of September 2001, the world did not appear the same to me. It had become lifeless and I was filled with despair at what I was going to become: a successful materialist with out the love and heart that I’d grown up to admire in people from my communities,  church and schools. And, my nervous breakdown commenced at full speed  and the diagnosis of bipolar was made with as much haste. It seems college is the place where mental illness first appears for various reasons

The larger historical events of 9/11 only seemed to confirm my apprehension and unease with the life I was creating, emulating, admiring and aspiring to move into. And, this lesson for me meant that I could not sacrifice the rich experiences I’d had growing up in the rich and poor neighborhoods of Los Angeles.

Even though I sincerely wanted to leave that glorious City of Angels with its sunshine, movie stars, beaches, snow capped mountains for the greener pastures of the East coast, I learned then to be careful when running away into what appears as but, may not be, a refuge for it may really be an insane asylum.

This does not mean that I would have wanted to stay in Watts with the Latino/Black drug gang rivalries, the nude emaciated hookers high on pcp haunting the streets at night or the malevolence lurking in the gazes of the unemployed threatening harm, it only means that this was the first of many lessons on how to maintain my inner light and how to build it so that my inner world manifested the beauty I hoped for.

No lesson is learned quickly and throughout my 20′s I had several moments of adjustment, at times painful, that inteded to prepare me for the next part of life. And, many of them I didn’t heed with my fevered brain’s attention focus with worry about material survival and no support network. Who could look to a career when the needs of the immediate future loomed before me like specters? And, many people did not understand and stayed away. And, in my shame I could not tell anyone anything. I was articulate about what I’d learned and tongue tied about myself, my past and my unease with life.

I sit here in Tunis and I reflect on my first two months here, it’s good for me to recall those other lessons so that I can apply the learning to this moment to smooth my transition beyond a sunny world of Arabic and French speakers who are still experiencing the bloom that comes with their recent political revolution.

I have created this post to demonstrate that I am a creator with a divine light. And, you reading this also are creators with divine lights and who have the power to illuminate your world with positiveness and the wealth of happiness. Let’s move forward and I look forward to my next post.