09/01/2014

The Complainers Delight

“Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates. At the first gate, ask yourself. Is it true? At the second gate ask. Is it necessary? At the third gate ask. Is it kind?”
- Rumi

The world has a thousand mouths and endless is the amount of dross, gossip and hearsay we use the mouth for. We open a newspaper and it is about accusations and scandals, an eternal dance of “he said” “she did”, “he denied” and the usual flow of intrigue, accusation and defense. We enter the social media and it is the same shit there, complaints and nailing by word. “He did that”. “Did he really”, “Yes he did”– and the drama is on! It is a fucking drama everywhere and I can’t help wonder if the world find the very act of digesting words and thoughts unpleasant. Sure, people do enjoy filling the silence with words so they can generate distance from themselves, but is our world a place filled with people who enters a form of martial neurosis when the possibility of touching Self is closing in? It is the same when I on rare occasions visit the local tavern in the spirit of being a good neighbor. The good talk simply doesn't exist, because the attention is always upon what the others are doing and what is nobody’s business is given form by words shaped from poisonous and envious tongues. And then it is the usual complaining, it is too hot, it is too cold, the mayor is an asshole, and the neighbor is a sob... If you try to shed some positive light on the miracles in our day by day life you either get a puzzled look that makes you feel like an alien or a tap on the shoulder and some comments about your naivety or lack of interest with people’s problems. For me it is about perspective and what catches your attention and I do believe that we tend to get tangled up in what occupies us, so if injustice is what we focus on, we will find it at the end of every breath we take. 

There is so much complaining around, perhaps so much that it is difficult to realize that a complaint is a lamentation born from grief. Is the world so full of grief that we are unable to count our blessings? Or is it so that the world is so full of opinions born from a passively harbored resentment and envy with the world that we need to badmouth and sting everything and everyone else to feel good about ourselves?

It is a fucked up atrocity to see how people seek, in conscious or subconscious ways, to elevate themselves by putting other people down. Because, for sure, the tongue is mightier than the sword as we have all witnessed in lives being destroyed by false testimony, oaths and promises being broken and the enormous power the word holds to make good as well as bad. When we see our poisonous tongue bringing a tower down we might have a moment of regret in our bittersweet triumph, but we walk on, doing our poisonous business as demigods taught the lessons of debunking happiness from a shit head Buddha with a bad breath. And as any good students we replicate the ways taught. Sure, we are all conditioned, from this pop culture of sensationalism, lies and apocalyptic uneasiness we live in – but if we are not able to notice the infection perhaps we should take a step back and let the world be what it is so we can be who we are?

I don’t believe that you are shit just because shit is what you see, but I do believe that if shit is what you see it is because you have been entertaining a negative circuit that has spread out and is dominating you. Society is a living organism and it can bring about disease, if the organism is infected. It is easy for me to avoid to be infected, living secluded in the jungle clad mountains I deal with the world on my own premises and in this I have found perspective and freedom. But perhaps because of this the contrast between my Thoreau-like day by day and the modern world screams so loudly... I don’t know, but I think everyone known the adage, ‘the mouth speaks what the heart is full of’, which is actually from Matthew 12:34 that reads in full: “You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”


Well, I have my restraints with the interpretation of the Bible as I have with the entire concept of evil, but let me leave this aside for the principle endowed here, you speak what you are, and if what you speak is gossip and shit, well... some do indulge into this because of a rottenness of the soul, but for the majority I believe we are speaking of a social infection that has filled the heart with contempt and confusion, not a good content for an organ that holds so many attributes connected to love... and of course passion...maybe passion is the shaft that fills the heart with poison... anyway, I think we all would benefit from paying more attention to how we are conditioned and influenced by the world and how we react upon gossip and slander and simply stop bitching around and act with some finesse, elegance or at least some fucking class. 
  
I on my part am increasingly annoyed with verbal nailing, gossip, rumors and trashing. I do understand the allure and attraction, but I don’t want it in my life. My life is full of love, understanding, blessings, companions from all possible kingdoms and persuasions. I am a happy person that aspires to bless the world, because I want to share my happiness, but the world makes it so darn difficult when it refuse to open up for what is good and insist on nurturing resentments and base envy! A positive remark drowns in the ocean of accusations and verbal shit-fiestas so often, it is when I see myself filled with disdain as I step back, each day a step further, from the world and find new friends in old books or new interesting challenges in bugs and beasts that attempts to besiege my land and garden. And this reminds me every time that, this our world, is a market place, it is a field where the good and bad deal, the concord and discord occurs with equal ease. This is true for beasts and plants as much as for human interaction and all spiritual playfulness in the sub-lunar sphere. I get it, but at the same time, I don’t want it, do you?

I mean, concord is about agreement, to arrive at an agreement we need to interact with the purpose of understanding. If we do this, we keep our differences and our fuck ups – it is all clear and good in the spirit of concord – in the spirit of acceptance we can allow understanding to take place and this will often ignite positive change.  

I like disagreements and I thrive upon concord. Concord means to have our hearts together and I want this, one heart touching another and two hearts touching will touch at least four others... and from this it flows and touches the world.... Sure we can fight, the good fight is necessary and worthy, but with our hearts together.... I do appreciate a good battle. The best battle is still the one we fight with the heart of the other in our hand, because it brings us onward, toward something more, perhaps even towards catching some outlandish majesty?
The good fight rooted in heart and desire for concord is so different from the accusations and trashing of others that is nothing but the complainers delight. It serves for nothing, but to give you another head or carcass to stand on so you can appear taller. It is bullshit and it is just sad and utterly uninteresting, unimpressive and irritating. In the end all bullshit and negativisms are ripped apart, like a piece of cloth, because this is the very force that moves gossip, slander and nailing. The force of ripping apart is what moves gossip and complaints and for sure, if this force is constantly fed and gets invited to dwell in your heart... well, at some point your heart will be ripped apart.

Òtúrá méjì:
The unrestrained mouth;
The mouth that cannot govern itself
The trap set by the mouth never fails to
Catch victims
It is the mouth of the talkative which causes
The talkative to suffer
It is the mouth of one who talks overmuch
Which brings suffering to him
It is the mouth which talks too much that
Causes one suffering who talks excessively
What the eye sees,
The mouth talks about

When the mouth talks,
It is torn apart like a piece of cloth

Illustration: Santiago Caruso