The Beginning of the End

I reject Donald Trump. I cannot, will not, and do not accept him as my president. I reject his racist language and behavior. I view him as a disgusting, repulsive immoral insect…not capable of leading America. He is a bigot, and a pathetic excuse as a commander. Trump is morally bankrupt, just an empty suit. He has not, and will not achieve anything good. And he is not going to change. It is time for Americans, and the people of this world to call for his impeachment. He is a very sick man. He is not only unfit, he is unworthy. I am calling on our co-leaders in the Senate and Congress to publicly denounce Trump by name; not White Supremacy, not the KKK, and not Neo-Nazism. We all already know what’s wrong with them. They need to denounce Trump for what he has now become: the White Supremacist-in-Chief. It is time for Americans to unite around the reality of this very serious situation. We are in this thing together. All we have now is each other. We must come together, and rally against this hatred, and violent propaganda. If you voted for Trump, you were tricked. This should be obvious to you by now, but we can correct the mistake by coming together. If we stand together, we will be victorious. We can no longer sit by idly and allow him to walk us off the cliff. Trump is a cancer. He is a poison that must be stopped NOW. People have died! How many more have to? History is happening; what will you tell your children? 

We must stand up, and speak up, for Heather Heyer; a brave courageous woman who gave her life for what she believed in. Heather was murdered by White Supremacists. She was killed by a Nazi for exercising her 1st. Amendment right, her voice; as this sick, disgraceful, racist pig of a president has yet to even mention her name…while he passionately and boisterously supports & defends White Supremacy. It’s so outrageous and shameful; Please help we the people combat racism, sexism, and fascism.

I am calling on each and every one of you to get up, and speak up…to stop all this pain and suffering via this insanely dangerous Trump regime. dwp

The Superfluous Hero

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a superhero, until I realized that In order to be one, I’d have to slay all the villains. Think about that: the hero is the one who had to slay all the others. But they always managed to twist the stories in a way where the hero is slaying somebody who is worse than him, so it seems ok. He becomes good. But the truth is that they are both wicked. It creates the idea that we cannot escape evil, or that we are stuck with the lesser of two evils cliche, and the supposition that there is no possibility of absolute good. The hero mentality only strives to be less evil, because the only way the hero can exist is with evil, which is not an accident. Societies are conditioned with this mindset from childhood, with TV and comic books. “Hero’s” are always viewed as the good, and sometimes great. They are designed as the saviors, the people who come to everybody else’s rescue. They are on the Earth to eliminate the headaches of the non-hero’s for you; all the good for nothings, the weaklings, monsters, and demonic spirits. The hero’s will save you because they have tremendous strength, and you don’t. In fact, the hero has everything that you don’t have, that’s the beauty of them. They can do things that nobody else can. That’s how Jesus became a hero. He had to do incredible miracles that only he was able to do. It wasn’t enough to just be good. He had to be super, capable of extraordinary feats. So they had to figure something out, because the story would not have worked if he was so extraordinary that he could prevent crucifixion. That’s the thing… “superhero’s” always have one weakness, because they really aren’t super, and they really aren’t hero’s either. They’re just ordinary human beings like everybody else. But nobody is supposed to know this because if you did, you might realize that you are just as special as they are. That’s the secret…if you are continuously trying to emulate somebody, or some thing, you will never get around to being you, and then the game ends. It’s all over. They were just an illusion, a distraction, make believe. There was nothing that was ‘super’ about them. So here’s the question: I am but a man, and I want to believe that I do not have to be great in order to be good. I am only a man, must I be heroic too? What happened to valuing goodness, and being understood? I can’t do tricks. And I don’t entertain. And the only way I fly is on a plane. I have nothing and I need nothing. My hero is love. dwp

Ocean of Love

While the term “in love” generally refers to a relationship you are in with somebody else, it shouldn’t; it should rather designate a place where you are. If I am able to be in love with anybody, I must be ready to be in love with everybody. If you are in love, and your life is fragrant, and you are soaring like an eagle, and you feel ecstatic…the relationship is with yourself. You are discovering. You are beautiful. You are learning about who you are; not the other, but yourself. Because this is the journey that is necessary in order to love somebody else. I cannot love you if I do not know who is loving you. It is through establishing my own self worth that I am able to understand, and love your worth. I must first learn about love before I can extend it to others. They want people to believe, as many do, that love grows on trees; that you can just pick it, like a fruit; that it is simply there for the taking, and all you have to do is find it. “Being in love” literally means you are in love; like in a swimming pool. You are engulfed in a spirit of love. And it is this spirit that determines how you will relate to the world around you. In other words, it is the love in you that meets with the love in others. The Romeo and Juliet concept is that love is created by two people, but this is a farce. Love is not something that people create together, it is an appreciation of one another. The harmony or chemistry is not in between two selves, it is in each self. That’s what the misconception is, people keep looking for love where it isn’t. If you look into your heart for love and it isn’t there, can you borrow it from your friend’s heart? It may be possible to experience their love, or maybe you can learn from it, but you cannot have it. If you want it, you must originate your own way. I know this doesn’t sound traditionally romantic, but it actually is because there is no romance more exciting than your own. You know why? Because a romance cannot be exciting if you aren’t home. It is via that very intimate walk we are taking with ourselves that energizes the relationships we have with others; it is the door that introduces you to your beloved. But when it does, if it isn’t open, or if you aren’t open, then you will not be able to swim together. The swimming pool is there, but you cannot enter because the door is closed. So you see, the problem is not love. Love is waiting for you. But you must open the door so the rejoicing can begin; you must believe in the celebration. As soon as the celebration begins, the celebrated will be delivered. And you will swim like never before. Life will flow through you so magically that you will finally know; you will know that love is your very bone and marrow, and always has been. it is your intrinsic nature. Love is housed in both the fragility and strength of your being, balanced more beautifully than the scent of every flower; timeless and exquisite. dwp

The Question of Answers

If you ask a question, you will need to have an answer; and if you ask another question, you will need yet another. The fact is that questions require answers. The moment you ask something, you will not be able to rest until you have the answer. This is the grief and anxiety of the human dilemma: Mind. It is always desiring to know something; to have an answer about this or that, never ever realizing that the moment the answer comes, there is another question. There is no peace, no possibility to relax because there are too many things to know. And if all I am doing is continuously asking and asking, what is the point? Knowledge begins to look over-rated, in that when is there satisfaction? The act of asking and answering questions illustrates how people are perpetually playing with themselves, glued in a grotesque preoccupation of profoundly unimportant matter. The truth is that there are neither questions or answers. There is only reality. And for that which is not real, there is no question. It is the art of diversion, and it works masterfully, but never on the masters. The more you can be diverted, the less you will be at peace, and the less will be your clarity. You cannot know something by asking something. They did not discover that the Earth was round by asking, they realized it when they didn’t come to an end and fall off. So it seems better to simply resign oneself to the natural flow of knowledge; to the awareness that life is the most meaningful teacher, and that the only way to learn about her is to experience her. dwp

Cloud Ten; A Glimpse Into an Indian

On one very important day I went to pick up a special item at the post office in my township of Pune. It was a document of immense impact here in India, and actually one that I wasn’t supposed to have, so I was filled with anticipation. I went into the office and as usual attracted, a significant amount of attention. As an American Jewish male mixed with African-American descent along with the kind of demeanor that I present, I am often received in a type of manner that apparently warrants recognition. It was early in the morning and many people were scuffling around performing their various duties to get the mail out. After I made it known why I was there, I stood and looked around with fascination because I had never seen such a manual kind of operation. It was so obsolete and primitive. Most of the men were dressed in uniform, the women draped in their usual vibrant saris. After some time, a rather miniature-looking fellow approached me. He was scarcely five feet tall, and noticeably low on body weight. The teeth remaining in his mouth were crooked and dark brown. I noticed instantly how completely oblivious he was of his appearance. And for this reason I found him quite intriguing. His smile, while noticeably missing several teeth, still had a charm to it. And this charm was becoming more and more intriguing to me, bordering on being pleasing to the eye, though for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why. His job was to sweep and clean so he was dressed in a rather shabby manner. In fact, his clothing was filthy, perhaps it had never even been washed. But this did not seem to matter to him. After all, it was just clothing and if it were cleaned, it would just become dirty again, so what would be the point? This is how many Indians think. It was absolutely clear that what this man had on his body was of no consequence to him at all. I noticed him looking in my direction several times as he continued sweeping, smiling all the while. He was also bare footed, which is a common thing when a person is indoors in India. He eventually paced his way over to my space, and was wearing a quite jovial expression on his face. He reached out his small shriveled up hand to shake mine, which is uncommon for the peasant type people to do here. He couldn’t speak one word of English, but this was of no consequence to him at all. He just wanted to meet me and smile, that was all. While I tried to figure out what this introduction was all about, this man just stood there with his happy smile, full of brownish colored teeth. I saw something in him though that taught me something I will never forget. After leaving there I got in my car and drove to Mumbai. I was extremely happy to have received the document that I came there for but even more, I found myself thinking about this little happy man. He was on my mind. He left an impression on me. I kept trying to make sense of how he could possibly be so pleased with himself. He was quite an unsightly person, but there was nonetheless something compelling about him. I was driving down the road and all of a sudden it came to me, this little man was simply happy! I reveled in this realization because his happiness was not as apparent as one would have thought. There were a lot of possibilities; I know because I tried entertaining many of them. The simple truth was that he was just very comfortable with who he was and little else mattered to him. Upon my coming to this discovery, I began to meditate on how beautiful he was in this comfort he had with himself. In spite of only being a cleaning man who was likely earning very meager wages, he was at peace with himself. Even though I was exhibiting comparatively very expensive things on me like gold and diamonds, a very costly watch etc., he did not feel any aggression towards me. In fact, he wanted to extend his graces towards me respectfully, and affectionately. It wasn’t as if he was envious or anything. He didn’t seem to yearn being anything like me, it was clear that he was quite pleased being in his skin. But he acknowledged our differences and seemed proud to step up to show me who he was! It was so beautiful! As my journey to Mumbai continued, so did my contemplation. It wasn’t so smooth a ride, but I knew there was something more about this fellow for me to learn. This man who was well into his forties represents a great majority of India’s population in one very significant way. They are a people of respect, no matter what they have or don’t have. If you have something it is good for you. If they have something it is also good. But people are not concerned with comparisons; they are not interested in things like what somebody has or doesn’t have. Somebody can acknowledge that you have something that they do not have, but they will not condemn you for it. On the contrary, they will approach you with high esteem, sometimes with great admiration. Somebody is driving a Mercedes-Benz; somebody else is riding a bicycle. Indians don’t involve themselves with this disparity. They are both a means of transportation and will both get you to where you’re going. Some people sleep on very expensive mattresses, and others sleep on the pavement. What’s the difference? You are sleeping, they are sleeping. The distinction is merely a detail. Indians don’t give much thought to details. In India people do things with purpose. They do not burden themselves much with desire, and as a result are much healthier and happier with what they have. Nobody is crying about not having a home, or something like shoes. If you need to go somewhere, you can walk. If it rains you get wet; when it stops, then you get dry again. Weather is a very insignificant detail to Indians also. There is no problem with it. It’s just something that happens. A hut is as much a home as any other house; you live in it. Bare feet are as effective a means of transportation as any other; they get you to where you’re going. Indians are very pragmatic people. There is an extraordinary beauty with people who are at such peace. The outer self can be beautiful, but just in and of itself, it means nothing. The outer person is simply a façade, it serves as a mask to hide the inner. With this particular individual, I experienced such enormous beauty in him that it would probably be inconceivable if he were to know that I was so touched, and taught by him. I feel certain that he would feel so humbled if only he were to know that he moved me in a similar way that I moved him. People are very unpretentious in India. They feel a great sense of gratitude to others. Indians are obliging people, and are especially so to foreigners. There is a sense of pride that you have come to visit their country.This day was truly a delightful experience; it was enlightening to me. It provided an insight I had never before had. If this man was acting through oblivion it would have been one thing, but he wasn’t. He acted with full awareness and intent. In the quiet corners of his contentment, he simply wanted to touch a man who was very different than he was, and he did. This “peasant” of a very sweet man taught me something quite priceless, which is that true beauty really is…skin deep.

DWP 2013