Shatter

When i see the desperate weather of social consequences, i hear the deserted shout of “hear me” inside my chest. Why don’t we break free of the tyranny? Because our western society has us deeply locked into a ceaseless hamsterwheel of dopamine dependency. For the most of us anyway. In this way we shed outer addictions and obvious substances only to detect there is yet something vital not being reached, with amnesty on genuine and sustainable inner pardigm shift.

I gladden to see the will of Angels apparent in actions calling for a coming together. There is hope yet. And more than what we can see or hear. For now it suffices to site examples to cheer up the page:

Beautiful mystic Russian faeirie surfaces from hibernation to organise two big conscious events on the isle of green as spring time breaks. A triad of photos and image next greets me in cyberspace, with an introduction to a homeless couple in Dublin who are non-drinkers and non-drug-takers. They are informing social media of a ‘coupon code’ which when used by the ticket buying public, will afford punters both a €10 discount, and also a financial contribution to the unfortunate couple.

On the west meanwhile, local dancing buddy and profi-gardener invites all to a Nepalese dinner and fundraiser for earthquake victims …
On the same night, large invitations for all to join in local music song and dance to benefit the very real charity of SVP in east Co. Clare
Notions of supporting both without going too mental tease the edge of my intentions. Dancing the Ballyvoureny jig set with some Tibetan sweetmeat stuffed in the cheeks may yet come to pass!

Countless deeds and words birthed by the breaking hearts of community touch me. Amid my personal chaos of any adult’s nightmare -
having children being taken away from me by outside agencies; of being impotent to go to my suddenly deteriorating Mother over the water, thereby relieving that family of financial burden; of being requested to ‘pay back’ state social welfare family payments from the past few years; of still being financially suicidal while the world looks away and wrestles with its own inner Medusas; beyond the realm of feeling quite simply homeless among the culture of the materially medium, I see the glimmer of right. These are all we can do. Observe the stream of highs and lows passing thru us and others.

There’s a power and a blindness and delirium and sobriety to it all. This contradicting wild child of a generation and an era. We flirt with revolution, yet court only half way with being the change. There is so much deeper yet to dive. I pray again for innersight this restless night.

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