It’s all a manic dance between everything and nothing. I can’t say that I have any answers for it, other than to say it’s everything to me. But if my everything is nothing, than what do I want my it’s to be. When everything is everything, it’s quite easy to know, but I have a great power to devalue everything.
I am lucky—I have love. I’ve had it for a while now, but what else? I write, but about what? What matters? Anything? Will anything make a difference? Am I pretending that things are important or are differences really made? Is it just a race to power and is that race to power simply a quest to a spot that will be filled by someone…anyone, because people are who they are and things fall into place?
In the days I have, where everything is nothing, people are going to be what they are going to be. Faces will be used for what people want them to be used for. No one is actually changed by anything—they simply attach themselves to people that feel the same.
If it hadn’t been Gandhi it would’ve been someone else, because that is what the times and the moods called for. If it hadn’t been Hitler, it would’ve been someone else etc…. This is my thoughts in nothing times. Hell, how many wars have been waged in the names of men who preached peace? Their memories carelessly used, tarnished and exalted and everything in between.
As always, there are infinite number of ways to view things and an infinite number of ways to justify things one way or another and this internal debate wages on for more than just meaning.
Nature vs. nurture, nature vs. nurture, if no on one can be changed that would mean it’s all nature. Well, not even in my times of nothing do I believe it is all nature. The one constant I feel is, if there is any difference to be made it is with fresh life—it is with the fragile eggshell minds. Traits are instilled in a person’s life during a time that is never remembered. Nurture then appears to be nature. And nature, if it was nurtured or not, is hard to change.
It all starts in the very beginning. I look into the searching eyes of my baby boy. They are hungry—hungry for love, knowledge and comfort—they are hungry for cause and effect. This is how he learns of the world in which he inhabits. These are the things that shape reality, as he will know it.
As his innocent cries leave his virgin body and mind and fill the air around him, I pick him up. Bombarded by pains of hunger and gas and sleep and frustration, his brain does not know the source of the assault on his senses or the reason for his internal alarm or longing and quicker than he learns the source of these causes he learns that I or his mother will be there to help him through it.
Our presence offering the soft security of comfort to his world of unknowns and our attention overwhelming the sense of his discomfort, his eyes shine with love at the sight of us.
Sometimes our presence isn’t enough. He is either over tired or the gas isn’t passing or whatever else that is troubling him persists and he continues to cry, but he knows that we care that he is crying. This makes all the difference.
He is coming to view a warm and nurturing reality, a reality of soft landings, warm smiles and pleasant outcomes. He expects even the bad times to turn out well and the fun times to come often.
Some babies don’t. They stare out of from the same place of longing and hunger and they let out the same screams, but those screams fill empty air. No one cares or more likely care just enough to get the baby to shut up. The only attention some babies receive is when voicing frustration.
The domino irrevocably tips. The baby grows to expect a cold world. It is a different reality. It sets a different definition of love and sets vastly different expectations of what life is and can be.
The impressionable mind begins to form its pathways, destinations and homes for the stimuli it receives. They can either go to the part of the brain that creates worry, anger, frustration etc. or hope, happiness and love etc.
People get comfortable in these pathways and stimuli get filtered through to them as they are the paths of least resistance. Two events happen exactly the same to different people and they are going to inspire them in two unique ways. In short, people are going to look for ways/reasons to hate and people will look for ways/reasons to love. This isn’t as much a conscious decision as it is a habit or an acquired reality.
Different realities and different universes are established from the get go. We can inhabit the same realm as each other, yet we can all live in our completely separate and unique realities. This difference affects everything.
There is so much I could never understand about another person, because when they tried to explain it to me, I would have a completely different base of understanding. A completely different reality of the words used to describe the feelings and inherently different reactions and expectations to the same course of events. These pathways, this nutured nature, color everything, from the depths of laughter to the onslaught and ramifications of pain.
These pathways can be re-trained, but this is a long and an all too rare process. The essence of which is the only basis for any real hopes of reform. It is easy for people to cast judgments and levy punishments upon others when operating from a platform of opportunity that was never available to the other. Again this goes from the simple to the extreme. From the shallow person casting hidden hate remarks to people waging wars. One person says murder the other says war.
I am not foolish enough to believe that everyone will adopt an altruistic nature if treated right a as a baby, but I believe we are talking about a huge percentage shift, which would lead to an entire different reality. A shift we may already be experiencing.
It’s been a long evolutionary ride from a cold world. Survival of the fittest is always at the doorstep, but at the same time is unnecessary.
I can’t understand where anyone else is coming from. Too many assumptions are made in this regard. We are all our own universe. It brings to mind one of my favorite quotes. It is from Einstein, “Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding.” It seems simple, but then again it should for me.
It’s easy for me to say. It’d be easy for me to cast judgments upon others. I learned the revisionist history of the country I was a part of. I held no grudges, because I was the grudged and I was sheltered from that. I was secure.
Beyond that, I had people in my life that weren’t just decent, but actually and actively let me know that I mattered. I don’t want this to come across as a statement that the way to world peace is to placate and spoil. The point is to actively listen and get to know people. This whole process will be easier if it is done from the start.
Until then, what do I do? Does any of it make a difference? Sometimes it seems to and other times it doesn’t. Right now, in this night as I view the news and the ocean is hemorrhaging and the land is burning and we are all just a few suitcase bombs away from oblivion, it doesn’t seem to matter. I tell myself, “Do what you can. Live for no regret.” And I hope. Hope for this life and the next and the next after that. A fable that I hope is a reality, an upward staircase that climbs a sideways 8.
No tears fall if I cry for everything at once. I’ll never see anything if I try to see it all. If it is only me, I can process and relate. One moment at a time and someday I’ll be a god, able to taste everything, shared experiences of everyone and back into me. Pieces of my infinite soul will fall like rain and the drops will splatter as they hit the ground. Cracking open with the birth of new life. People to live, love, hurt, scream, fuck, wonder and cry and I will see it all through their eyes. I will view the spectrum through the lenses of each color.
Until that point, I want my hands in the dirt and my eyes seeing through the color of my emotions. Give me the filthy mess of this experience. Give me love, give me pain, give me love and give me more pain. I can take it. I had the love first, which allowed me to find it again in the midst of darkness. It’s the foundation. It doesn’t leave and it permeates. It is the first ripple sent out by the splashing pebble. That is the gift there for us all. That is the gift that needs to be reinforced. That is the pathway in the brain that needs to be trampled. That needs to be the path of least resistance.