1/31/16 from a writing of 1/18/16 in response to TNH/Christ and Buddhism

Always I have been struck, like whacked in the forehead, hard, by the gospel of Thomas.  It is so direct, so simply confounding enigmatic, full of lines of beauty and no-nonsense.  We are called on to be  WHO WE ARE.  We become not be listening to the words spoken from a pulpit, not by listening to someone else's interpretations, but by coming to be in ourselves.

But it does NOT sound sweet - it sounds daunting: 'when he seeks, he finds, and when he finds he shall be amazed and will come to transcend all things.'

I have been curious as to what it would be like to know 'my original face'.  It would be both troubling and amazing and I can only imagine that it could be found through meditation, stillness and being present.  And it would lead to transcendence - because I believe from my small experience in finding myself, I could find others also.  I would see how we are all one, all creation being one from the stars to the smallest amoeba, composed of the same elements.  Now I only know that with my head -  if I knew my 'original face' I would know it conclusively and with my whole being.

If you skip the synoptic gospels and go to the gnostic gospels, the feel is entirely different.  And who picked one over the other and why?  The gnostic gospels seem more related to Buddhism (to my understanding of Buddhism at any rate) the ideas found in both concerning knowing yourself and finding yourself within.  The kingdom of heaven is within you, not in the myriad rules and regulations of Catholicism or Judism.  Christ came to do away with the old law and instead 'they' took his 'unlaws' and made mountains of books upon books of new laws which have nothing to do with what I see as true Christianity which is compassion and care for others.  How did we get from the Sermon on the Mount to the Inquisition, to the Roman Curia?

My atheist friend would say - greed and power.  The fine hairs split finer and finer, a ritual performed in a language no one understood, the matter of mortal sin and hell.  I understand that Gurdjieff said that with our level of consciousness, we aren't even candidates for hell!We are not that conscious enough for that capacity of evil.

But then, (ah ha!!) might I make the wrong decision?  throw the baby out with the bathwater?  But I don't believe so.  My education leaves me too guilt-ridden for that to occur!

Affirmation

My affirmation will be over a student that I have known since I was young but now have gotten closer to this semester. Alex Waggoner and me used to wrestle on the same team back in middle school. My dad coached him for a few matches and he showed promise as a good wrestler. Now after watching him through high school and his college matches I finally see how hard of a worker Alex is. I see him come home do all his homework non stop until it's all done. He is a nose to the grindstone kind of guy and I am inspired by his work ethic. He is a very home oriented person, he definitely loves his family and loves to be back in Desoto. This makes me want to be closer to my family because seeing that I'm not the only one who misses home. I Alex came to Maryville with two intentions, wrestle the best he can and get an education. He is a no nonsense guy and that is a hard quality to find these days, he will do whatever it takes to get the job done and I am happy to know a guy like Alex.

Giving Back

After experiencing the USEM I chose at the beginning of the semester I have learned and realized that I need to contribute to society. Back at my Highschool I always thought get through school get a job and get your life going. But now I realize that to be a true member of society, I need to help a fellow person. I need to experience charity and love and help other experience the same. I listened to Kristi talk about her trips to Haiti and her donations that she gives an it made me realize I need to do the same I need to help someone. Because that's part of life and the world will be such a better place if we all helped each other out.

Spring 2016

It's hard to believe that the Spring 2016 semester starts on this Tuesday the 19th. I can't believe that winter break is almost over. It always amazes me how fast time seems to fly by during break. It really doesn't feel like I was on break for almost 5 weeks. It seems like it was only a week or so ago when I came home from school after my last day of finals. I was looking forward to a little more than a month off from school. Now I'm trying to get everything packed and ready for school next week.

       It seems to me that time flies by during school as well. Last semester went by really fast for me. It really doesn't seem like I was in school for the better part of 4 months, but I was. I was busy last semester, so I would say that's why it went by so fast. I'm sure the spring semester will fly by as well.
I've heard that time goes by faster and faster the older you get, and I’ve witnessed this happening the last several years. I remember being in eighth grade and thinking about going into high school. I thought about what my high school graduation wold be like, and it all seemed so far away. Now I'm thinking about this as a freshman in college, wondering where the time went.

      I also remember my junior and senior  year of high school quite vividly. I was stressed about the ACT and college applications during my junior year, and my senior year I took some challenging college classes. I’m only a freshmen in college, so it might seem strange for me to talk about my junior and senior year of high school feeling like it wasn't that long ago, because it really wasn’t, but it does seem like it all went by so fast.

Effects[edit]

Nations customarily measure the 'costs of war' in dollars, lost production, or the soldiers killed or wounded. Rarely do military establishments attempt to measure the costs of war in terms of individual human suffering. Psychiatric breakdown remains one of the most costly items of war when expressed in human terms.

— No More Heroes, Richard Gabriel^{[29] Wikipedia}

So there it was, March 20, 2003,  President Bush declared war on Iraq.

Everyone seemed jubilant.  Not me.

Like the newly blinded in my once familiar home
I fingered the wallpaper ripped by cat scratching
the swollen door from recent rains now ill-fit for the door jamb.
The pitch of the roof askew as if by recent earth shifts imagined but real and irreversible.

I walked down the short path to the car port.
I walked back.  I felt sick to my stomach because I knew young people would die.
I picked up the phone and cancelled an important job interview
with a bewildered interviewer.
He clearly didn't get it.

So then it started.  Thank you for your service.
Thank you for

I couldn't say it then, I can't now. So I threw up.

There was the student who disappeared
during the Gulf War.  He said he always knew he was a warrior.
There was the young mother at the CSUSB Victorville campus
her husband overseas, she writing sterling essays about
I can't recall.  I fantasized about moving in with her until
if he returned.

Later it got worse.  Or better. Many military returned
cashing in their educational benefits.  Invisible scars
still there, they told of exotic places, funny now-not-then tales.
There was the sweet one with the TBI and the fleshy white scar on his brow;
the young mother at the pool removing both prosthetic legs
now, a water strider, she floated right along with her two kids.

I wait for it to end for the cortisol to stop churning in my gut
For all collectively en masse to IMAGINE
as one famous musician so valiantly put forth
a different alternative.

Meanwhile the "saber rattling" continues.
I wonder what Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr.
would say to this madness.
The military who are lucky enough to return stand tall
on the shoulders of an invisible population.
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."
Can it keep churning out of control like this.
Can I find a way to thank you for
thank you            for?            thank
you?       thank....    
----- think for ourselves at last.      

Sitting with the Old Ones

Winter comes, harsh and searing
Nevertheless 
With a fierce beauty.

I see that ridge along their
Backs a mule, a dachshund.
No amount of roasted chicken for one
And expensive grain and additives for the other
Will camouflage the diminishing flesh
As their back spines rise with age but defiance.

"Look here! These spines carried wonder while
Rooting in the earth and riders to and fro
Pursuing their dreams. " 

I hear their defense.

Slowly my hand behind me fingers my
Back. Startled? Relieved 
My flesh
pulls back, too, as if to hoist forward
My aging, brilliant self.