We need more help than we get,
leaving us to make do with what we have 
more often than not,
and fantasies of the Elder Wand abound--
Or those of an Almighty God capable of being
cajoled (With the right kind of sacrifice
and attention) into showering us with special
consideration and gifts in return.

This is shamelessly called "giving to get"
by churches not above prostituting themselves
for the goods and services of answered prayers
from on High throughout the year.

It's a con racket hawked by those 
who believe God can be bought
without worrying about the implied mafia boss nature
of a God reputed to be all loving and kind.

Desperate times lead to desperate measures,
and generate theological quagmires and quandaries 
over how to get what we want without over playing 
our hand.

If we live long enough,
we will live with our "backs to the wall,"
out of options, with nowhere to turn,
up against it "between the devil and the deep blue sea."

Jesus went to Gethsemane and Golgotha
when his back was against the wall. 
That is always the choice of honor and integrity--
and where honor and integrity often lead.

Knowing that from the start
and willingly paying the price
of a life lived as it ought to be lived,
with eyes open all the way
and a heart equal to the task
of doing what needs to be done--
for the joy of doing it
and the satisfaction of having done it,
no matter what,
leaves things as they ought to be
in a world where we need more help than we get,
time after time.

When the world goes to hell 
it is important to not go to hell with it--
maintain our focus,
and continue doing what needs to be done 
in each situation as it arises
as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

Sustaining our balance and harmony
has a carryover effect
and our presence has a "seems like" effect to it
allowing things to settle back into feeling as though
they are near normal.

It's the AA model of "faking it 'til you make it"
back to sanity, which will help with the sobriety.

"Just say NO!" to fear, anxiety, hopelessness and depression.
And focus on maintaining our balance and harmony
by meeting the day as it needs to be met.

And do something normal throughout each day.

It's called "doing the things that make for peace"
in all times and places.

Our intuition, imagination, virtues (The things we do best
and enjoy doing most), and original nature
are the things that identify us as who we are,
and are as unique to us as our fingerprints
and the cones of our irises.

And it is our place to cooperate fully with these
characteristics that make us, us,
living in ways that honor them as sacred gifts
from birth and living to serve them with liege loyalty
and filial devotion all our life long.

Which would include spending time consciously
in their presence in emptiness, stillness and silence,
open to their guidance and direction,
their wisdom and their grace.
And following their lead throughout the time left for living.

As you sit with this scene
what stirs to life?
What memories come to mind?
What associations do you make?
What feelings surface?
What moods are generated?

I grew up in scenes like this one.
Riding/driving past winter lakes and ponds.
In the country of the Mississippi Delta.

Isolation but not loneliness,
more of a somber source of reflection,
waiting for the world to warm up
and spring to come to life.

As a child, I observed life and seasons
without judgment or preference.

I liked the closeness of winter scenes,
the closed-in-ness
not inviting disturbances of any kind.
A rock thrown into the lake, for instance,
would have been an unwelcome interruption 
of the silence and stillness,
which constitute a whole,
and is complete and perfect just as it is.

I think I relished and enjoyed the peace
of scenes like this, and saw them as balm
on the wounds of life.
I took solace in them then, and do so now,
taking refuge in them
because of the absence of people.

People in my childhood were not to be trusted,
and I walked among them as invisible as I could be.
Enjoying scenes like this one for the freedom 
they offered me to just be without anyone to give me grief.

All of this would not have surfaced
if I hadn't asked you to reflect on the scene
and see what comes to mind.
Which makes sitting with scenes, 
or dropping into them as we walk through them,
aware of what is to be aware of in them
and what they bring up in us,
deepens, expands, enlarges us and our awareness
of ourselves--
which is a healthy practice to take up,
showing us more of who we are than we were aware of
before we began to explore the impacts our scenes
have upon us as we engage them, reflect on them,
think about them.

Finding our way to The Way
is as simple as getting out of the way.
We do that by not having a way,
but letting things be as they are
until the mud settles and the water clears
and a sense of direction arises spontaneously within,
intuition guiding us to a path to the path
which is also the path.

Emptiness is not empty.
Silence is not silent.
Stillness is not still.
They come together to 
guide, direct, support, sustain.

Drop in any time
at the gateless gate,
the doorway to here, now
and all that flows
to wherever we are going.

What are we going to do now?
Is largely a matter of waiting to see
what's next.
We spend a lot of time waiting to see what's what,
and then doing what needs to be done about it,
and waiting some more.
That is my preferred way of doing business.
Allowing the day to carry me where I need to be,
doing what needs to be done.

"Sometimes I sits and thinks," 
said Sachel Paige,
"And sometimes I just sits."
And sometimes something arises
that calls me to action, and off I go.

Having plans and agendas, 
datebooks and time tables
are more than I can manage,
and I wouldn't be able to 
justify my existence to anybody
who had strong feelings about accomplishments,
achievements, incentive and success.

Sitting looking out the window
fits my requirements for all of those things,
and watching it rain adds a certain degree
of intrigue and interest to the day,
which I both enjoy and appreciate--
and look forward to repeating,
perhaps tomorrow.

Except for the Trump Show
things are fine.
But even that is day to day.

So, in the meantime how are things?

I developed sciatica two weeks ago
and have been trading emails 
with my Doc about progress and development.
Today has been the best so far,
managing the grocery store and the shower
with mild to moderate difficulty,
and am looking forward to tonight 
and tomorrow checking on more 
noticeable improvement.

Settling into an easy rhythm is my goal,
and that includes blocking
all Trump-related goings-on,
and I am getting really good at that.

And, tonight going to the mail box, 
the moon almost half full and Venus
were directly overhead and almost
holding hands,
nailing me in place for a while.

I love things like that nailing me in place,
agape and agog in a positive kind of way.

All those "family dynamics" that we 
will never get to the bottom of,
but, only if the truth were known,
colors every facet of all our lives.

Don't we wonder though?
What hidden events shape
the life we each have lived,
and world events unnumbered?

Was the "Virgin" Mary raped 
by her father, for instance?
Or the man next door,
or down the street?

The answer to those questions
would change a lot of things.
And the answers to more questions
like them would change a lot more things.

But, we don't speak about the unspeakable,
and life goes on,
such as it is--
only the truth away from being quite different.
But different better,
or different worse,
who's to say?

Somebody's better
is somebody's worse,
and points of view
color everyone's life story.
But all those stories
would make quite a story,
don't you think?

Giving rise to countless,
"Oh, NOW I see's."
Around the world throughout time.

When the truth sinks in 
regarding the bloodless coup
that has taken over the United States Government,
and grocery prices do not go down, 
what then?

When total dysfunction becomes apparent 
in the utter absence of Governmental services,
and a hurricane hits,
or an earthquake,
or wildfires,
with no emergency management agencies
to respond to recovery needs,
will anyone catch on to maybe Trump
is the best con-game to ever come along,
but what then?

When people wake up, what then?
Where will they turn
when there is nowhere to turn?

I'm curious about that.
What then?

Finding what is ours to do
and doing it
when, where and how it needs to be done
in each situation as it arises
is asking a lot of each of us
all of the time.
But it never gets more difficult than that.

What is your "thing,"
you know that thing that you do
that you do best
and love to do most?
All of them.
What are they.

I love to look out the window,
drink coffee,
read, write, ask questions,
follow my curiosity,
make observations,
sit quietly,
go for a walk,
consider my options
and my chances.
Ponder what's for lunch.
And do what's called for
in and around these things.

That's what I call "Really Living."

We are likely to grow weary with the situation at hand.

Day after day of indelible stupidity mascaraing 
as The President of Unsurpassed Wisdom, Leadership, Greatness and all Marvelous Things
wears thin fast.

Even his fans will soon be yawning.
Maintaining our enthusiasm
Will be like a life sentence on Death Row.
Where do we go for solace and consolation?

I dreamed last night 
that I called up George Carlin for suggestions
and he said anything he could offer
would be like wisecracks at a wake.
And that we have to suffer the truth
of having nothing to say that is appropriate
for anguish and mourning.

We have to bear our own grief,
carry our own sorrow,
and recognize that upon us
is the realization of all that has been lost
and will not be recovered in our lifetime
or that of those who will follow us.

A sound is heard in Ramah, a sound of crying in bitter grief. It is the sound of Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be consoled because she has lost them.

 George Carlin is a man of great wisdom even in death.