BlackCartouche
Jedi Master
Neil, I think along the same lines myself, quite often. Just a few days ago some bloke asked on another thread did any of us ever wonder if the Cs were deceiving us. Well, no, I don't think so based pretty much on the line of thinking you have exposed above. But that doesn't make any better what we have to face and contend with in our present existence. The only thing that occurs to me is that somehow, this endless cycle of suffering does, eventually, for some, result in learning.
Where is it all going to take us? We don't know. But if the Cs are right about the conditions under which we live, perhaps they are right about the prospects for the future? I don't see many options except acting as though it is highly possible, even probable, and continuing to do what seems right. It isn't easy, for sure; I get beaten down by it like everyone else. The past few years have been particularly difficult because I've had to deal with physical injuries and a lot of pain which is just another layer of freaking suffering.
But, as usual, I see that I have duties and things I want to get done before I check out and the remote possibility that there may be some value in it for others (butterfly wings and all that), so I've struggled to find what might help me get my mojo back and keep on keeping on. Thus the work leading to early childhood trauma and neurofeedback. I think it has helped me and others, so there is SOME value there. And I keep reminding myself that it is darkest before the dawn. Funny that makes me think of a poem by Robert Frost, the last lines of which come to my mind rather often:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
I for one get sucked down into the cold darkness and wear it like a warm coat. I find myself forcibly having to remind myself the Light that nevertheless do still surrounds.
Even the darkest woods do a ray of sunshine break through the dense canopy or forest-clearing here n' there... Let us remember to set aside a little gaiety every now an' then.
Round my way woods complement rivers rather well I find - Natures grand highway.
Its been a long dark cold winter into a very cold spring... But summer is just around the corner - as fleeting it may be:
Here's something cheery I'm going to make sure to follow-up on --
When the weather is fine you know it's the time
For messin' about on the river
If you take my advice there's nothing so nice
As messin' about on the river
There's big boats and wee boats ands all kinds of craft
Puffers and keel boats and some with no raft
With the wind in your face there's no finer place
Than messin' about on the river
There are boats made from kits that'll reach you in bits
For messin' about on the river
And you might want to skull in a glass fibred hull
Go messin' about on the river
Anchors and tillers and rudders and cleets
Ropes that are sometimes referred to as sheets
With the wind in your face there's no finer place
Than messin' about on the river
Skippers and mates and rowing club eights
All messin' about on the river
Capstans and quays where you tie up with ease
All messin' about on the river
Outboards and inboards and dinghis you sail
The first thing you learn is the right way to bale
In a one man canoe you're both skipper and crew
Messin' about on the river
Moorings and docks, tailors and locks
All messin' about on the river
Whirlpools and weirs that you must not go near
Messin' about on the river
Backwater places all hidden from view
Mysterious wee islands just waiting for you
So I'll leave you right now, go cast off your bow
Go messin' about on the river.
- Josh MacRae