rippledub
Location: United States
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A Riff on the Thumb
We have become enamored of our thumbs, so useful, yet opposed to the four of our fingers. We have been clumsy, losing the balance and grace of the fourfold way. We have forgotten, we live in the mist of the four winds which carry to us everything from the four directions, We insist on standing alone by the highway with our thumb extended skyward waiting for a ride to somewhere .
We have become enamored of our thumbs, so useful, yet opposed to the four of our fingers. We have been clumsy, losing the balance and grace of the fourfold way. We have forgotten, we live in the mist of the four winds which carry to us everything from the four directions, We insist on standing alone by the highway with our thumb extended skyward waiting for a ride to somewhere . . . . We forget, we are the highway and all roads lead to us, from us. We are the somewhere. We are home. With the thumb we grasp, we hold on to . . . In fear of scarcity we use the thumb to grasp on to the stuff around us, Feeling disconnected we hold on to those around us whom we believe we need for our own happiness, Without the thumb we may not have survived to this point in our development, With our thumb we may not survive much longer, We are drowning in stuff, even as we grasp it tighter and tighter to us, We are breathing, drinking and eating the toxic residue of our stuff. Our concept of stuff includes the land, the very body of our mother, from which we are born. We reach out, further, grasping, we displace and destroy species and cultures which once successfully cohabitated. Killing off entire populations of plants, animals and people, Genocide. Once when a man or a woman grasped a stick in their hand, with their thumb , it was theirs in the moment. The stick set down could then be taken by a river, used by another human, chewed by a dog, lost in the night. So, we have improved upon our thumb, increasing our ability to grasp. Now we have the serial number, the vehicle identification number, the personal identification number, the patent number, and the copyright. This is mine, that is yours, get your own, I bought this, mine, mine, mine. Laws to protect property, police to track it down. Courts to decide who has a right to what. Division of the whole into parts – deconstruction – separation. Fear of losing what we once had or of not getting what we want. It is our connection to God, to source, which we fear we have lost, and we fear death, which may not return us into that which we fear we have been separated from. Open the hand, release the thumb, stop grasping, and allow the life force, your life force, to flow. You will know in your heart you have never been apart from God, and will always be a part of God. Amen. Awoman. Ahell. Can't we all just get along?

A Riff on the Thumb

We have become enamored of our thumbs, so useful, yet opposed to the four of our fingers. We have been clumsy, losing the balance and grace of the fourfold way. We have forgotten, we live in the mist of the four winds which carry to us everything from the four directions, We insist on standing alone by the highway with our thumb extended skyward waiting for a ride to somewhere . . . . We forget, we are the highway and all roads lead to us, from us. We are the somewhere. We are home. With the thumb we grasp, we hold on to . . . In fear of scarcity we use the thumb to grasp on to the stuff around us, Feeling disconnected we hold on to those around us whom we believe we need for our own happiness, Without the thumb we may not have survived to this point in our development, With our thumb we may not survive much longer, We are drowning in stuff, even as we grasp it tighter and tighter to us, We are breathing, drinking and eating the toxic residue of our stuff. Our concept of stuff includes the land, the very body of our mother, from which we are born. We reach out, further, grasping, we displace and destroy species and cultures which once successfully cohabitated. Killing off entire populations of plants, animals and people, Genocide. Once when a man or a woman grasped a stick in their hand, with their thumb , it was theirs in the moment. The stick set down could then be taken by a river, used by another human, chewed by a dog, lost in the night. So, we have improved upon our thumb, increasing our ability to grasp. Now we have the serial number, the vehicle identification number, the personal identification number, the patent number, and the copyright. This is mine, that is yours, get your own, I bought this, mine, mine, mine. Laws to protect property, police to track it down. Courts to decide who has a right to what. Division of the whole into parts – deconstruction – separation. Fear of losing what we once had or of not getting what we want. It is our connection to God, to source, which we fear we have lost, and we fear death, which may not return us into that which we fear we have been separated from. Open the hand, release the thumb, stop grasping, and allow the life force, your life force, to flow. You will know in your heart you have never been apart from God, and will always be a part of God. Amen. Awoman. Ahell. Can't we all just get along?
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