The pendulum swings, yet forward motion appears to have taken place, for the background scenery continues to shift into brighter and more hopeful patterns. The world seems not as dark as once it did. The encouraging voice in my head remains accessible and responsive, while the discouraging scourge which once haunted me so loudly has receded into the distance, little more than a memory, and in those moments when its volume is raised, it’s relatively easy to recognize as the lie that it is. From this perspective, my downs are downright doable, while the ups are nearly too good to stand.

And oh my, these hazy crazy summer daze, so much happening, so little brain for taking care of business. Except for the money part, life is sweet and replete with delights and near-encounters with the antlered one who haunts my nostrils with his goaty smoke. Grunt! The dreamworld remains his domain for now, and I can’t complain, for my dreams become more solid all the time. If a dime were worth anything, I wouldn’t trade my life for a million of them (though I wouldn’t say no to an offering of the same).

Ah, the elusive carrot of cash. That, in fact, remains the sole septic hole through which my current of contentment threatens to flow, ’secrets’ and ‘laws of attraction’ notwithstanding.

Ooh, I feel a rant coming, take heed:

This New Age justification for greed makes me want to point bright mirrors at the spewers of so-called secrets. I call it a scam! They name their same-old formula of affirmation and positive thinking a ’secret’ to lure those who seek to be special, plaster the masses with mass media pointing them in the direction of accumulation, the right and only solution for all dissatisfactions. They name examples and repeat insistently, “See what I have manifested for myself! A million-dollar mansion! no! four million! and why stop there? You too can own more than your share if you dare to dream as big as me, for bigger is always better! If you find yourself scrambling to survive, obviously you did it wrong!”

Ha. This so-called secret is nothing new. Though there’s some truth in this secret thing, it’s tainted by an ancient and ugly agenda: screw the people while seducing them into thinking you’re out to help them. Then the power of their collective, half-asleep, hypnotized desires (in the form of cash shelled out for books, DVDs and workshops teaching them how to be more like the right ones) can be siphoned into a many-headed hydra controlled by the same old elite, leaving the poor ever-poorer, ever-hungrier, ever-seeking the same old goals defined by the ones on top claiming to be blessed. New faces, new names, but it’s aristocracy all the same.

It takes some to get some, damn it. If the window of opportunity opens for you, it’s because you’re in a position to take advantage. If you live on the mean streets where windows don’t open, all the wishing in the world won’t change your fate without action and a bountiful helping of help.

Let’s call this thing by its name: it’s just another fake-o spirituo-materialistic pyramid scheme to feed the greedy monster of capitalism which has already sucked out half our brains. I’m not immune; I too am easily seduced by pretty toys, bright colours and flashing pictures of possibility. I lust for that same carrot even though I know it has been programmed to dangle always just out of reach. Still, I see the man behind that curtain. I know his name.

Desire is human and I’m okay with wishing, but now I choose to change the direction of my intention. And here it is (drumroll): I want to live on the ground in a world where sustainability is mainstream and love is the new normal.

Speaking of desire, let’s not forget our antler-headed man Pan, nor the sweet softness of his mama and main squeeze, Fat Naked Woman. If evolution happens (and it does) then our forms can be no accident. Our bodies of mostly water have evolved for a purpose, and it is obvious: our upright stance, sensitive naked skin and kissable lips clearly indicate a predisposition for coziness. Snuggles, sexy touches, strokes, licks, sniffs of pits and other niches are our real jobs, though our many layers of clothing and the multiplicity of ways we outlaw pleasure seem designed to force us to forget it.

The truth is, we are sensual creatures and our arms are made for hugging; evolution is leading us inexorably toward more love. It all adds up to God.

Love is our job, and let’s face it, nobody else can do it. Cetaceans have the bare skin required, but not the arms, and the other primates have the arms, but not the bare skin. And thanks mostly to our own doing, there are now far more of us than there are of the other so-called higher mammals.

People, awaken! All our fantasies and distractions are intended only to take our minds off our evolutionarily-mandated heart’s desires for intimacy, sweetness, funky pheremonic stews and pleasures of the flesh. Once we have what we really want, we won’t need bigger, better, faster cars or castles of gold. We’ll be too busy feeling the sensuousness of bare feet on soft soil and the sweet breezes in our hair. And really, this is exactly what we most fear and why we struggle to save ourselves from our own inexorable fate.

Resistance is futile. We will be assimilated into the grand orchestra endlessly playing its ever-evolving love song, which, though softer than the screaming sirens of greed, is so much more reliably rhythmic, musically melodic, happily harmonious and sweetly seductive than all the crass blandishments and tinny come-ons of the commercial world that once we tune in, we won’t be able to get it out of our heads. Love is a virus, and it is catching.

The song says, the time is here, the time is now. It’s time to crack the shells of the eggs which have incubated our life’s true purpose and discover that, lo, what we have most feared is our own selves! And yes, we are sensual animals, yes we love pleasure, yes, we love to say yes.

YES! Yes to life, yes to love, yes to the beauty of each precious and perfect moment, yes to fomenting a soft revolution to gently crumble the barriers separating each hungry lonely heart from its own sweet self, its Oneness with All. It’s time to fall in love with the world, our own faces in the mirror and all the weirdness we once feared.

This entry was posted on Monday, July 9th, 2007 at 7:22 pm and is filed under Gaia words, truth and strangeness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.