Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Sunday, June 24, 2018


“The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.”
                                              Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

It strikes me
As I walk the dirt roads
In this charmed valley 4000 feet up
And miles from anywhere

that we humans are pretty clueless, dare I say insane?

people struggling with addiction have a pretty simple definition of insane
“Insanity is continuing to do what you are doing, and expecting a different result”

I think the majority of people fall into that destructive loop
Doubling down on dysfunction
Making it worse and worse

We can see from history that responding to violence with violence
Begets more violence
But we still promote violence (war) as a solution to problems

We can see from the research that more guns equal more death
And that people in houses with guns are more likely to die of a gunshot
Than are people in houses without guns (kept for safety)
But we continue to insist that guns keep us safe

We have profound evidence that our climate is changing
and that much of the change is caused by humans
yet many (for reasons that make no sense) continue to insist it can’t be true

We have millions who following the lead
Of the one who would be king, think
Neglecting the poor
Pampering the rich
Imprisoning kids
Oppressing minorities
Will somehow make for a great America

Even though history has shown that the downfall of every great nation
Has its genesis in injustice, inequity, and oppression

It almost seems as if the “majority” is the ranks of the insane
The normal are not detectably sane
It seems we may be addicted to the worst parts of ourselves

Yet we all go around playing “sane”
Smiling and saying we are “fine”

(Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional)

How do we find sanity in insane places?

How do we keep from being sucked into the vortex
How we keep from being spun about by the gyre
As it whirls, ever widening until the “center cannot hold” (Yeats)
And our hearts, our lives, our world explodes?

Perhaps the only escape is inward
Down into the deep regions of our being
Where we are who we truly are
And where sacred dwells

Unnoticed, neglected,
Lurking in the dark
Waiting for us to return

Perhaps sanity is only found when
We become intimate, bound together closely in love
With ourselves
And become intimate, as intimate as with a lover
With the Sacred

Perhaps in that intimacy
Sanity is to be found

And perhaps in finding a fragile sanity
In this insane place we call the world
We can find our voices
Our hearts
Our compassion
Our generosity

Perhaps then we can spit into the wind
Shout into the chaos
And insanely believe

Along with Buddha, and Jesus, and Gandhi,
And Martin Luther King Jr
Crazy people all,

We can make a difference

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