I am going to try, again, to curb this passion for word-ing, for palaverizing.
I am going to try and live with my gentle rain in a better way, a more flower and sunshine producing way.
Sun Tzu wrote long ago that it does not take great eyes to perceive lightning, nor great ears to hear thunder.
We are in a thunderstorm. Anyone who cannot see what is happening is blind, and nothing I can say could possibly make a difference.
And part of my mourning will be of the hastiness and ruthlessness with which so many people want to overthrow and crap on the good work of many generations of people who came before us. Many gave their physical lives, and many their spiritual lives–their focus, their life energy, their work–to build what so many now hold in contempt because they lack the context to appreciate its value.
The spirit of the feudal lords and kings and queens and popes and ministers has not been dispelled. On the contrary: all you have to do is rename it, and the thoughtless consider efforts to reestablish all this to be worthy of their highest efforts, as such work is seen as intrinsically good, and the goals intrinsically worthy. Most of our best minds at the best universities are trying to return us to the theocratic Middle Ages, but without the romance, and without God.
I have felt the anger. Now I am going to try and feel the sadness. God knows I have spent enough time venting and exhorting and explaining and pondering.
These spells never last long, but they may begin lasting longer. I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.