By Catherine Viel, April 5, 2021
(Golden Age of Gaia)
April 4, 2021
Meditating among liars and retreating sternly into myself, I see
that there are really no liars or lies after all…
And that each thing exactly represents itself and what has preceded it,
And that the truth includes all…
And henceforth I will go celebrate any thing I see or am,
And sing and laugh and deny nothing.
~ Walt Whitman, All is Truth
There’s not a whole lot about truth that seems self-evident, these days. Yours is yours and mine is mine and never the twain might meet.
I hadn’t counted on this being a problem with getting flea treatment for my cats, though.
I was thinking of asking my old friend Jay to help with this fun project. I’m sure he’d come right over, he’s that kind of friend.
But I reconsider. He’s so gung-ho on the V, he’d no doubt announce that he’s had his second shot and isn’t that great, now he’s free to…uh…well, do something that the unvaccinated can’t, I suppose, like travel with fewer restrictions.
That’s fine. I would offer nothing but a noncommittal mm-hmm, neither approbation nor disapproval. Not looking for a fight.
However, based on the behavior of some people I’ve met who have had the V, the next thing he might say is, “So, have you had yours?”
The answer he probably expects is, “Yes.” Or, “I’m getting it soon.” Hard for me to reply without betraying myself, by lying, or irritating him, with my truth. If I have no intention of getting the V, and he has done so, a deep divide can instantly yawn between us.
Discussing V status is a pointless conversation, neither of us able to agree the other could be right. Both thinking the other must be succumbing to the lies of devious manipulators.
And he might even lecture me to “get the V” because it seems many folks have been programmed that way. A barrage of addictive lures murmurs, “Believe me, listen to what I say, V is good, V is right,” from the TV and the complement of nearby electronic devices.
*****
Those hearkening to the mainstream media seem to be tuned in to a single station, one channel broadcasting the same information as another, as another, as another. There is a narrowing of the river of ideas, words, and sharing of minds, until they begin to blend together and become interchangeable, one media mouthpiece indistinguishable from another.
That is my perspective, an outsider looking with curiosity and as much suspension of judgment as I can manage. On any given day, that varies, depending on the information that I choose to absorb, how tired I am, and a myriad of other factors, many of which are completely beyond my control.
The only factor I can control consistently is my own attitude, my beliefs, my feelings, and my willingness to allow all other humans the right to have a bad day, too. And give them carte blanche to wonder, “Has she lost her mind!?” as I might wonder about them. To allow each of us our own feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and truths.
That must be one of the hardest things to learn and consistently practice.
Short of a 12-step style intervention for “MSM addicts” (who of course would want to impose the same on “conspiracy theorists”), I don’t know of a solution other than to continue, as best we can, to allow. Allow love, allow compassion, and allow us each, every one, our own best interpretations of The Truth.
~~~~~~~~~~
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops…
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God…
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
in the universe.
~ Carl Sandburg, My Name is Truth
