2021-08-30 16:19:25
We all die. Nobody likes the thought.
It’s an unknown. How will it happen? Will I suffer? Will I have done more good than bad?
The unknown is scary.
Fear of death causes different reactions.
For one it makes the time here a living hell… waiting, wondering, obsessing over the HOW or the WHEN of ones inevitable passing. This makes the gift grey and almost pointless to have had in the 1st place.
For another, it’s accepted. Almost appreciated. To know and accept that THIS moment may be our last. To squeeze the juice of joy and even sadness out of each moment. Understanding that in all emotions lies the flavor of life itself. To know that all the great deeds and words of those deeds recorded, were of people that suffered the same blessing of knowing the path, no matter it’s surrender or conquest… all end in the flesh failing.
To balance the illusion of safety with the joy in each breath seems to be the trick.
I value preservation of choice and freedom above my own life. This is the gift that goes on. The one thing, even when no one remembers me… that I can give.
My life and the freedoms I have and do enjoy are a sacrifice from millions of men and women I’ll never know.
I had someone I know, care about and respect say to me these words. “You make things worse”. I take these comments seriously from serious people.
I have to believe the life I live and the actions I take, and the words I use find their use in service. I know I’ve done harm in my life. I’ve done my best to rectify those choices.
I also, to my core, believe that my leadership since I made the choice to ease suffering, has been consciously to do the right thing regardless of personal gain or pain.
I haven’t taken my direction lightly. I struggle with my words before I post, speak or record them.
I believe that unless you are a monster, we are all doing the best we can with what we have. That belonging or believing with a group of like minded people can ease the fear a tad. Even when deep inside we know.
We know standing and sacrificing, no matter the personal pain, is a higher calling than the small, dark cave of mirrors that leaves us momentarily feeling safe, but ultimately robs us of the gift of an actual life.
Freedom has become the ultimate white, black, brown privilege. A privilege 90 percent of the world has never had to sacrifice even a second thought for.
Some are compliant and comfortable in their servitude.
Some rage against the outer edges where oppression and the dark monsters of dictatorship are constantly pressing in.
Some have never known the world of a child held captive, drugged and raped. A woman beaten so badly her teeth come out of her head. A parent dying with their child in their arms because they gave the last food ration to the child that dies shortly after.
We just lost 14 of those warriors. Warriors that were willing to battle that outer edge to the death. Regardless of the ones inside that safety net they provide taking it for granted, not considering it at all or worse… thinking they are owed that protection.
So do I make things worse? Probably.
Worse for those that profit from fear.
Worse for those who attempt to rape children.
Worse for those that think they can beat their wives and children.
Worse for those that starve their people.
Worse for people who desperately seek the illusion of comfort in a government.
Worse for people who lie to themselves about their tribe or party being superior.
Worse for people who bury their bravery under a mountain of false self doubt.
Worse for those that would behave as if a Goverment that takes freedoms EVER gives them back without blood shed.
You’re damn right I make things worse.
Thank God for the sacrifice of our ancestors, our current and former fighting Warriors, my mentors and leaders that made it worse for the enemy of freedom. That made it worse for me when I lived in fear or selfishness.
Thank God my life was made worse so that I might accept the only one that can improve it is me.
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