"A generous friend
gives life for a friend
lets rise above this
animalistic behavior
and be kind to one another"

~Rumi

LOL

That's like the Rumi quote of the week - or whathaveyou. 

Lets rise above.  Shall we?  Over 700 years ago, that was probably pretty revolutionary.  I can see them now with blank looks on their faces,

"What?  Rise above the willingness to die for a friend?  But that is the highest call!  What could we possibly give more than that?  And how is being kind more than being willing to die?"

The failure to identify and articulate why being kind is "higher" than being willing to die is the main reason we are in the mess we're in today economically, politically, religiously and culturally.  And it's gonna take a while to untangle this mess.  Most people just don't get it. 

And it's not because they're not "willing" to get it.  Willingness is one of the strengths of people who are "willing to die".  Before the arival of this level of development was a true lack of willingness to care much for others.  So, willingness is not the problem.  The reason we're not going to "rise above" that brutal mindset is because our lives are still being asked of us.  Until our lives are no longer asked of us, we're not going to let go of this level. 

As the Jewish scriptures say, "The life is in the blood."  But it's also in our time and space and energy.  Every living resource that is limited is a container of our life.  If I give it to you, it is gone.  I'll get more time and energy, but that is for tomorrow.  Yesterday's is gone.  And if I have spent it unwisely or you have lied to me or exploited me in order to get it, I have given my most precious resource in exchange for something that will not serve me or what I am trying to serve.  And if I am willing to give my life to serve something beautiful and true and good, but you take it from me without allowing me to serve those things, you are still demanding my life.  No paycheck is enough to compensate me for that.  No number of years of good to fair physical health will make the loss of my life any less real. 

So, everyone who thinks we need to "rise above" should take a moment and take a little inventory of how much of their lives are actually still required of them, and what unkindnesses they've had to perform in order to meet that demand.  No time to stop and help someone at the side of the road because you're already late to work.  Being snippy to the bank teller because she's new and slow and you're on your lunch hour which is now almost over and you still haven't eaten.  Being indiferent to the desperate pleadings of a family member, friend or beggar because you've struck a deal with the housing authority who says you can't have guests or pets. 

I know of people who are voluntarily homeless because they won't let anyone make those kinds of demands of them.  They won't relinquish their autonomy to give to whom they want, when and for what they want.  I admire those people so much.  I wish I was strong enough to do that.  ...and strong enough to bear the derision of people who ass-u-me they are merely sponging off of society...

Our lives will never stop being asked of us.  Therefore it is not appropriate to ask us to "rise above" giving it.  The only way to reach something greater is to transcend and include that "animalistic behavior" and offer our lives with as much autonomy and in service to as much kindness as possible.

[since when are we not allowed more than 10 tags? That's really annoying.]

I went to see it last night with my daughter and one of her friends.  It hit a little close to home. 

I'm taking risks in my work.  Big risks.  It scared my former boss so much that he couldn't speak to me about it without losing his composure.  I guess I'm what you call a "Loose Canon".  It's the PTSD pattern of not really ever being able to leave the field of battle.  My pain, fear and anger are such that even though I can Witness them, I cannot stop them from arising.  Yet.  They arise and dissipate.  But when it arises, it is a hurricane.  I still have to ride it out.  If I can learn to steer that hurricane over to something that needs to be decimated, then that may be the least non-skillful thing I can do right now.  Esp. when it has reached Level 5. 

If I could deal with the education system, I'd make a really great lawyer.  I'd be rich.  But I can't, so I won't.  And I'm not.  It's hard to find something at this economic level that it's okay for me to destroy.  I feel sorry for my kids and anyone who would want to be my lover right now.  LOL  I have this thin veneer of beauty and delicacy that barely covers a Monster.  And that Monster is protecting a vulnerable child.  Not destroying myself or someone/something else is full-time work.  And it's hard work.  And ever since my boss resigned, it's been my work, instead of his.  THANK GOD!! 

I was marvelling this afternoon at how wonderful recovery and developmental growth is.  God, it's beautiful!  I have been able to transcend to a higher level of gentlness and prudence precisely because I have integrated my impulse to destroy.  I have destroyed things.  I have destroyed some things which needed to be destroyed and were surrounded by other things which needed to survive.  And I have destroyed some things which can be repaired.  All in all, I have managed to prevent alot of colateral and permanent damage.  That's hard work.  And it's alot better than the way it used to be.  I used to have zero control over the destruction.  Of course, I ended up with the lion's share of the consequences of that.  I'm the one I hurt the most.  But that's how it goes when you have no control. 

I love it that now the one who contends with me about my destructiveness is me and no one else.  I may have to enter into negotiations with others, but I have achieved my victory, and can now surrender uncoerced.  That is a really beautiful responsibility.  And I don't know how else it can be accomplished for someone as damaged as I have been, without first utterly defeating my opponent - with my eyes open.  Nothing will expose the nerve endings of my conscience to the fact that I have a deep and infinite obligation to only use my powers for good than to finally stand alone at the top of the mountain and roar. 

I have to be so careful.  People's lives and livelihoods are in my hand.  I have to be careful.  And if someone needs to be punished by an unjust and stupid law that is directly contributing to the destruction and possible deaths of people with mental illness, then I will have to step up.  And even if this impulse of mine wants to serve only the Good, True and Beautiful, I will have to accept that those who only know how to abide by laws will want to consider me Evil, Dishonest and Corrupted. 

I feel so alone.  And yet I cannot slow this whirlwind...

...yet

Don't see this film.  Unless you've got a screw loose.  Then it's okay. 

Pain is good for art. 

Dopamine is the neurotransmitter for predict and control behavior.  I suspect it may be the hardest pattern to transcend.  It has carried the evolutionary impulse all this way, but cannot carry it all the way.  It is incredibly powerful and effective for driving this enormous engine of development.  Amazing.  But it has brought us to this dead end and the bitch is that it can predict what is beyond, but cannot attain it.  So many people die throwing themselves against this brick wall...  trying to either attain control or strangle the ability to predict.  Or maybe find that happy place where control finally quenches the urge to predict. 

Fat chance.  It just doesn't work that way. 

It's so intoxicating.  It wouldn't work so well if it weren't.  The reward for attaining control is beyond what most can contain or resist.  It rewards all of our brains at once - from the lowest to the highest.  If only our lowest didn't have to go along for this ride.  If only we could have dropped them off a few thousand years ago.  But no. 

It occurred to me after watching this film that it is absolutely a miracle that we've been able to drag that stuff this far up the evolutionary ladder.  I'm amazed we're still alive as a species.  God, is it worth it? 

More thinking about neurotransmitters.  I'm feeling really paranoid that if someone finds out I'm having this pattern of thought they're gonna have me hauled away in a straight jacket. 

I was reading my NVC book and I noticed two phrases that Rosenberg wrote:

"I feel like I'm married to a wall!"
and
"It's like talking to a bunch of machines!"

both on page: 39. 

Suddenly I could see what my brain was doing.  I got so excited that I wanted to draw it or describe it or write it out somehow. 

All sorts of images came into my mind, but I could not stop them from changing.  They just wouldn't hold still so I could sketch them.  More and more perspectives, and higher and higher perspectives kept coming.  And the whole process was so important that I didn't want to waste any of it by settling on one still image.  I needed to record it while moving somehow.  But, alas.  I have no such equipment which could record what I was imagining at the speed I was imagining it. 

Does anyone?

So, I simply marveled.  Then it changed into something I could describe in words.  And this is what I wrote down:

"'I feel like: ___________________________'  This is a container for meaning.  We exchange these with one another using our language brain and our mirror-neurons.  If you hand the meaning to me in these words, my mirror neurons construct the picture that was described and fire, exciting the appropriate chemical releases.  Almost instantly the meaning becomes shared & is available should the listener want to integrate that into their perspective. 
'He who has ears to hear, let him hear.'"


I decoded a parable. 

It emerged from the writing and snuck up on me.  I didn't see it coming!  I swear!

I've often ogled the thought of writing Theology in my old age until I just keeled over.  Literally.  Falling over on a keyboard from a massive stroke.  I love it so.  But I doubt I'll ever be that immobile.  I'm just too active.  Anyhoo, then it occurred to me that I was writing about neurotransmitters again.  And just then, my mind took a picture of itself, much like The French Woman in "I Heart Huccabees" did.  [Click.]

"Wow." I said, feeling totally busted! "That's amazing."

And here we are. 

I wonder if this crazy crap will be decypherable when I'm no longer debatable. 

Why!!??!!

Why?  Why?  Why does this happen?  Why am I so freakin' curious about it?  Who cares?  Why does it fascinate me so?  It's like a frenzy of objectification, flattening everything out.  "Interior, Interior, let me in!" "Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!"  SMACK!!  Up against the right-hand wall!  Everything is instantly "it"ified.  Only I Am not... for now...

I was actually picturing making this in film or a live-theater version.  Hiring actors and actresses to lip-sync to recordings of young girls trying to communicate in squeaky,  crying voices to others about: getting dumped by her boyfriend or raped by her father or gang-banged; and men about: getting humiliated by a girl in high school or raped by his father or finding out the girl he loved killed herself.  Stammering...  until they each finally lunge out in unison, "It's LIKE S/HE RIPPED MY HEART OUT THROUGH MY MOUTH AND PUT IT THROUGH A MEAT GRINDER AND THEN SHOVED IT BACK DOWN MY THROAT AGAIN!"  And all the parts in capitals are when they slow the recording down and their voices deepen and the lights go out all around them until only they are each lit and speaking in slow-motion. 

And when they finish, their images are frozen and I come voice over like Rod Serling and read all that shit I just wrote while their images fade to black.  And as I'm finishing, images of Jesus flash in fragments of seconds from various films about Him.  He is about to speak a parable in each fragment.  Finally, one settles in and the whole parable is played.  "The Kingdom of Heaven is like..."  Then the film closes to black and an audio speaks in the darkness from yet another film, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." and the last word echoes to fadeout for at least 30 seconds. 

And the house lights come up. 

We could even do a sort of ska version where the last voice to be heard is just like the voice in the song, "One Step Beyond!" and then the saxophones begin: dah-nah-naaaaah.  Dah-nu-nu-nu-uh-nu-uh. ... 

I'm a freak. 

So, I'm thinking that would cover the upper left, to the upper right, to the lower ... something.  It creates a we-space.  But I don't know if thats a right or left thing.  I guess by wrighting it down in here, it becomes a lower right.  Heh-heh.  Lower righting. 

Whoa, man.  I'm out there.