Feeding The Beast

I am enjoying the second half of life privilege of examining the baggage of my life with a critical, if not unsympathetic, eye, and deciding what to tip into the dumpster.

 

Once I took hold of the fact that you can believe anything and get away with it (and possibly make money from it too: which is the ONLY explanation there is for Scientology) everything became clear. So away with all the stuff in religion that invites me to despise, judge or exploit anyone else. Amazing how much of a drag THAT was! Away too, with any kind of pretence that I am either better or worse than anyone else. I take my seat between heaven and earth and touch the ground in acknowledgement of my divine right to be here, and courteously invite everyone else to do the same.

 

Religion sorted. Politics, not so easy. I fell into the Twitter trap of throwing out an insult in the heat of the moment with no thought to the consequences. I denounced a politician, on my own side, as a snivelling cheat, and he called me out on it. Oh dear. Caught trolling.

 

I apologised at once for being rude, though I thought the comment may have had some merit, and immediately put myself in social media purdah for a week and went off to write poetry.

 

The point of this ramble is better made in the First Nation fable of two wolves at war in the human heart. One embodies all that is good, the other everything evil. Who wins? The one you feed of course.

 

So, the battle to make sense of this one beautiful life continues. I have no idea which of my wolves will win out today, but I do have a preference ...

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#MicroblogMondays: I Am Thinking About ...

Soft toys!

I don't recall owning a soft toy as a small child. I guess there must have been one around somewhere in the mix, but it obviously wasn't that appreciated. A story that my parents told against me for EVER was that, when I was a tot, I swapped my brother's soft baby-blue teddy for a mankey old brown one ... I don't remember this at all, but really, I wouldn't put it past me, sibling rivalry being what it is.

I am (perpetually) clearing out the shed and the spare room, and still finding a variety of cuddly items left behind by my daughters. Some are gifts from discarded boyfriends, I suspect, though I'm too polite to enquire .... (They're off to the Charity Shop next week girls, so if you want them, come and get them!)

Actually I'm a bit of a softie myself, so I may very well NOT give them away, it seems a betrayal of trust, almost!

Have you come across the "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoons? Calvin is a very small boy, and Hobbes is his alter ego, coming to us in the form of a stuffed tiger. They are philosophers both, and the inspiration for this post. I follow them on Twitter, and I tell you, I could do worse.

 

 

 

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