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HOLES and How to Cure Them HOLES and How to Cure Them
by David Sparenberg
2020-08-29 09:29:52
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Holes instead of eyes. And those afflicted cannot see. They are blind. Holes instead of ears. And those afflicted cannot hear. They are deaf.

Those who have holes instead of eyes, the blind, do not bother to look. Those who have holes instead of ears, the deaf, do not bother to listen.

But even a blind person, by being a person, can figure out how to look. Even a deaf person, by being a person, can figure out how to listen.

hole001_400The fragmented, constantly contriving detours, throwing things in front of their feet, those forever falling, breaking up, shattering; or forever self-possessed by amorous ignorance; forsaking their senses—these hollow while far from hallowed invite soullessness within. They become soul lost.

This conspiracy with clinging to failure and defeat is not tragedy. It is polluting time. This state of confusion, holding on to destructiveness, is senseless waste. Do not ask why. Asking will only lead to procrastination. Find instead the exit from self-justifying victimization. Find your opening, the passage out of the game of disappointment, out of the murky secret of isolation, back into the sensory receptivity, the ordinary magic, of opennesss.

Soul, the individual essence of personal identity, the humanly unique core, is a conditional way of looking, a conditional way of listening. It weaves patterns of comprehension, archives memories, houses references and resources. When soul is absent—o the rancor, the accusations of stumbling through a zombie existence, seeking support among the walking dead—hollowness sets in! A landfill cavity of waste and carbon based garbage is the result of soul’s exile.

Change words, try again, say: Soul is a person’s satori-source, endowed with the power to awaken from sleep and sleepwalking. Soul awakens to guide the process of personhood. Soul is the processor, awakening eyes to look and see, awakening ears to listen and hear. Without soul, body is a broken jug, a clay pot with cracks, fissures spindling throughout and endangering the structures of life. Whatever junk has been hoarded within is turning into soulless rot or is becoming soulless ashes, is foul and malignant, or dry and suffocating, oppressive, inert. Remember: things fall apart. Don’t be a thing, neither in your own eyes nor the eyes of others. Don’t be the blind being led by the blind. Don’t be the deaf listening soullessness to sermons of the deaf. Don’t become a blind leader either. Don’t become a preacher of numbness, of senseless stupor.

Desperate becomes the fatal game of complaining, the clutching at broken bonds, venomous lies, the shreds and shadows of false illusions, with weariness tightening along the seriated edge, along the razer rim of your privatized blackhole of nothingness.

For life’s shake, little one, old child that you are, bent with crippling heartache: for life’s sake (because life’s challenges require resourcefulness and inner strength, connections with the universal flow of Qi) do not be one among the fragmentated, obsessed with rejecting light, committed, howsoever obscurely, to betraying life. All that you need to start becoming your own alternative to victimization, to self-loathing and the internalized culture of cruelty, is to open. To open your eyes to looking. There is a truth in open eyes. To open your ears to listening. There is truth to be heard in the sounding and morphic resonance of interlaced creation. Even wounded, even those who have mistakenly sided with the pathos of weakness, or with cruelty, abuse, with silent nihilism, have greater depth, resilient strength, salvific abilities secreted, subversively, within. Each of us is an “and yet” and through this “and yet” we are each more than we have accepted ourselves to be.

Why not, instead of accommodating the legacy of holes, get busy exploring your “and yet” self and the “and yet” world you are momentized (present in the moment) and centered (located significantly) into?

We are made human, each one endowered to be empowered, to use our vital senses, to initiate relationships, to start the individuating quest to retrieve (to revive and welcome back) the spontaneous response-ability of an exiled, abandoned, too oft neglected, or incarcerated soul.

Call this adventure dignity: this artwork of self, of identify, undertake as healing. Call the process therapeutic; call it whatever you will. Name it as you like, so long as it works for you. In myself, I say the dialogic repair is Walking the Red Road. It is a way of truth—a natural state of gathering power, attunement, which is to be at-onement. And to be at-one, is stature, it is unific, and it is good medicine.


Check David Sparenberg's NEW BOOK
The Fate Of The Poets - Selected poems 1974-2019
is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!



Also Check David Sparenberg's THE GREEN TROUBADOUR
A Source Book of Performance Ecosophy
download for FREE HERE!



David Sparenberg has also 2 more Books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"Life in the Age of Extinctions volume 2 – Threshold"
Download for FREE HERE!



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