 |
| "There but for the grace of God go I." Tell me about it. Photo by Hannah Nelson from Pexels |
AWOKE this morning choking, crying, clawing for
the sky. Dream tremours? Panic attack? Entering into breakdown?
No. Just fear. And rage.
And ... despair. People are talking about World War 3, see, and all I can feel
is: "What is the purpose of my life?"
I am not alone in this.
Dictionary.com's (dictionary.com/e/word-of-the-year/) word of the year 2019
is EXISTENTIAL. The word was “notable among searches”; and the site says it:
“... inspires us ... to ask who we are and what our purpose is ...”
When nation's today talk about nuclear strikes, they
sound, not just stupid, but selfish as hell. They must know, surely, that
nuclear war means war on everyone. It's the world at stake.
It must be one thing to be American or Iranian facing
this current standoff. But people like me, in my little classified as Third
World nation, who mean squat-all to First World entities, have to be shaking in
our flip-flops while they bandy their overcompensating balls about!
It's like we're either prey or fodder; and then the
writers of books like The Secret will still insist,
"You are entirely responsible for everything that happens to you blah
blah." My ass.
Terrorism expressed
Sorry.
Listen, I love work. To me, that's the purpose of life. Spirituality is wonderful and all well
and good. But body, the physical self, is sacred, too.
If we were not meant to work, we would probably just
be souls living on light and air. Work gives purpose. Working is living
purpose. Purpose is providing value for your community. Purpose is taking your
gifts, skills, craft, et al and doing good with them.
Bouts of quaking and trepidation aside, I love my life
because I love myself. I love who I keep trying to be despite the fact that
there is so much hatred and abuse to face down as myself.
My 25-plus years career in the Media was intentionally
destroyed by people who did not like my hair, the colour of my skin, my
ideologies and my courage.
If you want to condition certain people to hate
themselves and to hate work, you cannot allow to exist a human symbol communicating
every day that "Work is love made visible." No, that you destroy. The that
being me.
Still, we all face attacks from people in front of us.
But to have to face it from people who do not even know you exist is the very expression
of terrorism.
Not be borne
This post must seem to be all over the place. It's not
even what I intended to write. I was supposed to do a warm, fuzzy ode to workers
of varied kind, to help set up a spirit of productivity for the rest of the
year.
But when there are forces near or far who hurt you all
how; damage you in ways that feel irreparable; kill bits of you piece by piece
until, yes, look, finally dead, you have to say something! Right?
You have to stand up, fight back, run on, scream, something to ward of the blows or make
it clear that this will NOT be
borne gently.
Sometimes, like on waking this morning, I feel I'll go
stark raving when I relive the horrible things people have done to me. Yet, I
do not use that as an excuse to go out in the world and deal in evil toward my
fellow human.
I'm no saint. So if simple, little old me can be that
way how can I expect less of others who claim to be better than I am?
Hmmm. Maybe that's the simple key to helping people
understand what Right Action should look like. All the people of the world who
want to think of themselves as better than this one or that one need to go back
to simple English language conjugation:
Good, better, best.
Right? See which word comes first?
"Do good. Do only good. Do good for others." -- Buddhist tenet
Come good
Connect to photocentric stories of my homeland TnT at: Trinbago Shine On blog
This post clearly came out of frustration. Till the moment I started typing the first words I really believed I was going to be telling a different story entirely.
ReplyDeleteI want to work in the arena I spent most of my life working in, but I know I cannot. Not just because it will not have me, but because I cannot stoop to its current base bar.
More importantly, though, I want to work in the field I have always considered my calling. I can still do that with or without others' approval.
Somehow or other, so can we all. Never forget.
This piece makes me feel sad still, but strong again. And you?