from Jon
I was glad to see Krisna's invitation to add to Brooks's blog, as the anniversary of her passage to what I trust is a hell of a lot better place than this approaches.
Kris is right in refusing not to speak of the dead! Our society has such a hangup about death and dying -- it's just not the thing to do, is it? We're all supposed to look and act like Ivana Trump or David Beckham (depending on our gender preference) and live forever and consume what the corporations tell us to consume, and hand in all our privacy to an all-knowing, beneficial government that... I better stop before I get totally carried away or have to down a triple dose of anti-depressant.
Brooks understood all this perfectly. She, and I, and, I think, everybody here understood and understands the sickening torrent of lies we're exposed to daily by rulers (and that includes CEO's, and Wall Street tycoons, as well as more obvious ones in Washington and other capitals). It's all about control, control -- and guess who gets to be controlled, and who gets to be the controllers.
She understood, too, that the dead are as much with us as the so-called living, you and me. They are, literally! Again, this flies in the face of societal convention, and largely for the reason that the dead are not conspicuous consumers. Shame!
She would be tickled to know that I am a dues-paying member of the Socialist Party of the US, even though the Socialists -- we Socialists -- live in a dream world that is never going to come true, anywhere, any time, because of the fanatical adherence of Those in Power to the Buddhist three poisons of greed, ignorance, and hate. Boy, do we see those at work every day. I read the headlines every morning and am reminded of the power of those three. I also had better add that I am not good at politics, or even at human interaction, and being Socialist is just...being Socialist; it doesn't mean anything in terms of making anything better; I am not an activist. But at least I don't have to call myself Democrat or Republican any more. Or even unaffiliated.
Brooks was able to make me feel that it is OK to be inept, out of the stream, and basically useless. Even usefulness has its limits, and its drawbacks.
As I said before, Brooks was my only true soulmate, except for David, the love of my life. They are still my two best friends. It doesn't matter that they are dead, whatever that means. We are all dead, and all living. We are! Every single moment is a death and a birth. Into and out of various degrees of pain...
She understood this. I know because we discussed these things many times (mainly electronically). We were two peas in a spiritual pod -- though I really, really don't like the word "spiritual" with its suggestion of "sanctity" and "ho, ho, I'm SOOO much better than you." Again, we did not understand "spiritual" things in that way, the newspaper, pulpit, self-help way. I hesitate to suggest we had a handle on the way things really are, but it would be dishonest for me not to suspect we did, and do.
A couple of days ago was Hallowe'en, and today, if I'm not mistaken -- or is it tomorrow? is the Day of the Dead, el Día de los muertos. By "coincidence" (another thing Brooks and I don't believe in) I received in the mail on Hallowe'en two images of Mahakala, the wrathful form of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara (or Kwannon), acting as protector to anybody, anywhere, who's even halfway engaged in seeing things as they are (instead of how the government or the media want you to see them) and aiming to bring all beings to a place free from suffering, totally free; no easy task. One of them is supposedly a 19th-century bronze sculpture from Lhasa. You can see it at http://mindfuldragon.com/mahakala_scaled_2.jpg and I don't care if it's really 19th-century or from Lhasa or Newark; it's cool. Brooks would love this. (Oh -- it really is bronze.)
Yes, I miss Brooks every day, many times a day. But she's as present as anybody else, and for that I am grateful.
Happy anniversary, dear friend.
Kris is right in refusing not to speak of the dead! Our society has such a hangup about death and dying -- it's just not the thing to do, is it? We're all supposed to look and act like Ivana Trump or David Beckham (depending on our gender preference) and live forever and consume what the corporations tell us to consume, and hand in all our privacy to an all-knowing, beneficial government that... I better stop before I get totally carried away or have to down a triple dose of anti-depressant.
Brooks understood all this perfectly. She, and I, and, I think, everybody here understood and understands the sickening torrent of lies we're exposed to daily by rulers (and that includes CEO's, and Wall Street tycoons, as well as more obvious ones in Washington and other capitals). It's all about control, control -- and guess who gets to be controlled, and who gets to be the controllers.
She understood, too, that the dead are as much with us as the so-called living, you and me. They are, literally! Again, this flies in the face of societal convention, and largely for the reason that the dead are not conspicuous consumers. Shame!
She would be tickled to know that I am a dues-paying member of the Socialist Party of the US, even though the Socialists -- we Socialists -- live in a dream world that is never going to come true, anywhere, any time, because of the fanatical adherence of Those in Power to the Buddhist three poisons of greed, ignorance, and hate. Boy, do we see those at work every day. I read the headlines every morning and am reminded of the power of those three. I also had better add that I am not good at politics, or even at human interaction, and being Socialist is just...being Socialist; it doesn't mean anything in terms of making anything better; I am not an activist. But at least I don't have to call myself Democrat or Republican any more. Or even unaffiliated.
Brooks was able to make me feel that it is OK to be inept, out of the stream, and basically useless. Even usefulness has its limits, and its drawbacks.
As I said before, Brooks was my only true soulmate, except for David, the love of my life. They are still my two best friends. It doesn't matter that they are dead, whatever that means. We are all dead, and all living. We are! Every single moment is a death and a birth. Into and out of various degrees of pain...
She understood this. I know because we discussed these things many times (mainly electronically). We were two peas in a spiritual pod -- though I really, really don't like the word "spiritual" with its suggestion of "sanctity" and "ho, ho, I'm SOOO much better than you." Again, we did not understand "spiritual" things in that way, the newspaper, pulpit, self-help way. I hesitate to suggest we had a handle on the way things really are, but it would be dishonest for me not to suspect we did, and do.
A couple of days ago was Hallowe'en, and today, if I'm not mistaken -- or is it tomorrow? is the Day of the Dead, el Día de los muertos. By "coincidence" (another thing Brooks and I don't believe in) I received in the mail on Hallowe'en two images of Mahakala, the wrathful form of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara (or Kwannon), acting as protector to anybody, anywhere, who's even halfway engaged in seeing things as they are (instead of how the government or the media want you to see them) and aiming to bring all beings to a place free from suffering, totally free; no easy task. One of them is supposedly a 19th-century bronze sculpture from Lhasa. You can see it at http://mindfuldragon.com/mahakala_scaled_2.jpg and I don't care if it's really 19th-century or from Lhasa or Newark; it's cool. Brooks would love this. (Oh -- it really is bronze.)
Yes, I miss Brooks every day, many times a day. But she's as present as anybody else, and for that I am grateful.
Happy anniversary, dear friend.
Comments
Krisna