If so, then why do I not F.E.A.R.? (False Evidence Appearing Real). I used to fear nuclear war. Indeed, my entire frozen existence since the age of two years and eight months, having suddenly awakened while listening to the radio on August 6, 1945, was predicated on nuclear extinction any minute now.
What’s changed? Is it just that, at 81 years, if it hasn’t happened so far, why would it? And yet, and yet. This point in time does seem to be even more horrifically acrimonious and ignorant (thanks to the deep state overlording Biden puppet regime) than the burned-into-my-brain October 1962 Cuban missile crisis, when the U.S. actually had a living, thoughtful president!
Or is my “reason” for no longer fearing nuclear war much more mundane, namely: I’ve got so much life under my belt already that it really doesn’t matter to me whether I live or die? There may be something to that. But then, it’s not just me. I’m not that self-centered. At the very least, my heart goes out to my own children, and especially, my grandchildren, now in their early 20s, both of them unusually bright and thoughtful. Shall I fear for them?
NO. No to fear. Faith. Faith in divine inspiration. Faith in humanity. Faith in courageous beings like Tucker Carlson and those who buoy him up; faith in Donald Trump, and his extraordinary capacity to continuously boomerang arrows from all directions.
Faith in the trees, how they stand silent, strong, seeking the sun, roots penetrating soil, entwining underneath, linking above and below, each a vibrant earth antenna, spacious presence holding sacred the surround.
And stones, stones! How gravity holds them silent, gleaming, alone or jumbled, crumbling, cracking open, eroding into sand — through seasons, years, decades, centuries!
Faith in the faithful sun, shining from above.
Faith in the winking stars, the splash of the Milky Way.
Faith, thanks to taichi, in my own two feet, stable, steady, able to pivot on a dime.
Yes, faith. Faith in my animals, Tiger cat and Shadow dog, their natures ever-present, unwavering, cat teaching me independence and friendliness, self-sufficiency; dog teaching me unbending loyalty, mutual dependency. Both inviting me into their sensuous pleasure, holding me secure in our increasingly tumultuous human world.
And yet:
Faith in all-too-human strangers, daily, on morning walks with Shadow, as we pass each other by. “Hello!” we call out, or mutter shyly, eyes shining, soul to soul, lifting the heart. Each one (trying not to appear) lonely, longing . . . but for what, what?
Speaking of humans: I do sense that we awakening ones are “winning” this current climaxing battle between Good and Evil.
Though it may not be obvious yet.
But once it does become obvious,
all of a sudden the meaning of the image burned into our brains
will flip!
Nuclear destruction? No.
Nuclear explosion of human creativity.
Equally blinding, equally bright. Hallelujah!
