I’ve wanted an essay topic for some time. Clarities flash and fade, interrupted by some jingle from teevee ten years ago, or some ass slinging add from right now; liquor, pork ribs, condos. These things are offered to me in the hopes that I feel something is missing, incomplete. I do often feel that way, but know that a box made of $3000 worth of steel and stone 350 feet up in the air that I pay a quarter mil for is not the answer. I myself have traveled many flesh manipulating roads, drugs, sex, yoga, running and each has their merits and drawbacks. Come now, people don’t do drugs for no reason. Some reach out to self medicate, opiates, alcohol, the things you get from the doctor and the government, good things, easy things, legal things. Substances that don’t make you think but simply placate you are very welcome in our ‘don’t think just buy’ economy/ society. Even now, I don’t like where this essay is going. I prefer to extol virtues of man and life, sing miracles and laugh poetry into the atmosphere, but this rainy day in the gunmetal city…no, it’s not the silvered morning, maple trees gleam in intercourse brilliance, commune-icating with our physical other half, water. I can’t blame or rationale the day, this so called Thursday is perfect, as was yesterday and as tomorrow will be. Arabs will be mutilated with shrapnel, hate, ignorance; homeless indigenous Amerindians will get drunk again for the thousandth day in a row; African descendants on this North America turtle island with be mill grist for white people’s prison jobs, victims of concerted efforts to keep them poor, fractured, disaffected, familially broken, and uneducated to feed to the Jabberwocky jail, being the new keep unemployment at bay, post great depression model of high school Anglo graduates not being able to make cars any more, the black man’s blood oils the cogs of this meat grinder. Where can this essay go? I’m not fully realized in my dreams. Who really is? People suggest their lives are not bad or even good, but he has been redirected towards something, away from something. This work we do is insulting and a farce in the face of our angelic nature. Some near sighted few take us from our connection with our Gaia mother, cover the soil in cement and deposit us there, via slavery, legislation, war, trickery…there are many reasons we live in the city, as many as why we die here. These overseers then take control of where the food comes from, or do their best to do so, and erect these petty laws and transparent maneuvers to manipulate us to need to feed them our bones so our flesh may eat. This is not the proper topic either. Something, communally, is, in fact, missing. This is partially it: we think we need to look elsewhere to lead realistic, fulfilling lives. Exotic automobiles, vacations, new and additional and more, something else. Something else is an apt motto of this childish ‘capitalism’. That word is in quotes because governments and slob pigs use their tiny words and deep pockets to keep what people really need and want to purchase at bay, alternatives to oil and traditional holistic medicine for instance. Just like there has been a purposeful genocide on any peoples/ cultures leading viable existences outside the Western paradigm, these thieves act like oil is the only game in town. If we see someone else’s clean glass of water and then see our own dirty glass, we are going to ask questions. We will not ask the other people with the opaque glasses very long, we will seek those people that have clean glasses and ask them questions. And as these people are edified and breathe based on each other and the gifts of heaven and nature, their understandings and views are bad for business. Business wants to sell you whatever it can, as soon as possible. If you are content, there is nothing to sell you. So discontent is bred. Again, the doldrums of this world right now bubble up like sulphurous ferment and rot. Here is what: we have the full power to live lives that are profound, nourishing, artful, delightful, curious, engaging, collaborative, imaginative, and wondrous, to posit a few adjectives. I recently heard: “nature gives hunger and so nature gives relief from hunger”. We long to deeply connect with something outside ourselves; sometimes this flesh feels like a cell. We are given our fellow creatures and language and art and dance, culture generally, food, dress, religion to give a piece of ourselves to another and to receive a piece of that person. We are what we eat, everything, soil, worms, each other, birds, stone, volcanoes, the sea. The cycle continues until it ends. My fear and frustration and joy may have more words on paper or in my head, but the feeling in my chest and belly is very similar to the man on the street, walking, in a suit, sleeping on the sidewalk. We all need food and water and shelter to live. This need easily becomes a wanting to eat a certain thing or live a certain place and then we have desire. Desire wants to want, not to be fulfilled; fulfilled desire ceases to exist and as our minds feel the drive to continue on, so do emotions and conceptions, the progeny of these minds. It is said: “The wealthy man has what he wants, the rich man wants what he has.” We have, at our toe and fingertips the means to connect with each other and our world. Touch, taste, smell, thought, sight, hearing. We play music together and dance, we will remember the jigs and reels and little hop steps our great-grandparents did before teevee pacified us. We have vital foods and crafts and arts to enact, carving, sewing, sculpting, pottery. These things let us witness the meditation of tasks and then show us some tangible and useful recollection of our efforts. Much of our current work is invisible inside a computer, over a telephone, asking our fellow humans to attempt to allay their disconnect and sadness with further purchases. We can live and work together, toward simple, realistic, beautiful, comfortable goals, doing work that is meaningful, deep, insightful, demanding, challenging, engaging, necessary. We are more easily part of the solution than we are part of the problem. Learn a song, ask your grandmother to teach you, she knows a few. My grandfather polkaed, ask him to teach you a simple dance. Learn to prepare a traditional dish from these ancestors; there is wisdom and history in these enactments that is only available through participation and exploration. Teach these to someone else then do them together and smile. These are the gifts of those who came before; we may build upon this knowledge. These are the gifts that have come up through our interconnection with the Earth. As such, these gifts, this culture, this needed information and gorgeous connection with those who live now and have come before can not ever be lost or suppressed entirely, there will always be a seed inside each of us, an unlearned perfection, a spider born being able to spin a web. We are these seeds, we are the soil in which these seeds grow, we are the sun and rain feeding these seeds. We will return to the natural, easy, pure state we witness in children, a state we only pretend that we have left. We will heal.