NOW WAIT A MINUTE!
If red is dead then blue is through. We’ve birthed them both in search for truth so there must be some in each.
We emerge, partially, from nature’s arms and then it is that we must learn to walk alone/together.
How can this be when mine is mine and yours is yours – except that time – when yours is mine and mine is yours?
A Great Age is upon us, it has always been, and it is now that we must choose to be present in ourselves and to one another in ways that demonstrate the gathered wisdom of the ages. It cannot be that we must start from scratch. Too many have given so much, taken so much, done so much. Those treasures of our accumulated development and understanding must now become the stepping stones that lead to a more refined appreciation of ourselves, each other one, and everything else.
Capricious, even mad gesticulations are manifestations of childhood and adolescence. As that ever-deepening self perception entwines in our circumstance, we must be bold enough to mature into our own age. And while it is not without its consternations, we must be about the equanimical application of our wherewithal, and there is much.
We have gained incredible forms of mobility, variations of every size and hue of so many has lead to so much. And we have consumed it all from A – Z. We have had those saints and sages who have admonished us, have pointed toward the others. Many of us looked away and saw less deserving other-thans, some we chose to slaughter and others we passed by. In our senseless pillaging and maiming, bequeathing deaths, many agonizing, and destruction, much worth saving, we plunged forward into a wanton desecration, we became the desolate ones. We chose to strut in hubristic machinations, deceiving ourselves with our own ignorance, an ignorance that thought we were the chosen ones; after all we won the war, the battle, and the race.
Truth is not just any movement, it is a self-coincidence with the sacred and that can only be a complement to the Divine. Knowing this is a humbling yessness that settles around us as a holy mantel. This is not something we wear with some sanctioned pride, it is a gift long sought after, patiently awaited and received only when we present ourselves as an innocent or practiced soul as part of the Divine Bouquet.
So, when we choose red/blue/Islam/Christianity and all the other manifestations of religious history or our imagination, what forms the construct of our choices? It must be that committed gloved hand, cloaked with the holiness of self, that in incorporating – think here what if – a complementing presence to the Divine’s Oneness, it becomes more than and less than and nothing else matters. We are then in the arms of the Infinite Eternal.
So why, in the face of this, do we wallow in ways that lie, bend, turn, twist, destroy those sacred others in our presence? To each has been assigned the same task to be red/blue/Muslim, Christian, whatever.