It's Not Fair!

 

Under the guise of being "the disadvantaged," various segments of the population strive for equality.  That is disingenuous because as soon as equality is legislated they begin to go for superiority and replace whatever cultural norms may be in place with what they feel is "better." So what we are seeing is a power struggle, a sort of "King of the Hill" situation where the extant are under siege by those not.

Cases in point:

A reader of Marilyn Savant's column takes issue with the designation Male/Female for electrical (and plumbing) plugs.

A particularly vocal woman decries moustaches as being unsavory when in fact the only reason she dislikes them is she can't grow one.

A young man shrugs off the advice of an older, more knowledgeable, pool player until the older tells him he didn't make this stuff up, it was told to him by more experienced players.

Dr. Seuss books are banned.

The black/white issue will not even be addressed here but the implications are the same.

There is a structure in place, not necessarily legal, moral, or ethical, that is seen as unfair by some and they make every attempt to dismantle it and replace it with something they feel is more fair.  The fact is that life is not fair and to seek fairness is like jousting with windmills.  Those who ascribe to the existing structure are vilified and shamed into compliance with the "new" ideas simply because they don't agree.

Legislation cannot change attitudes; we think it can but only the personal choice of the holder of that attitude will change it.  Time will pass, attitudes will change under the influence of law but constantly haranguing for them will not.  Any more than body shaming will change the eating habits of an obese person.       

Are You There?

 The following is an exercise used successfully to imagine contacting entities in the spiritual realm.  Is it memory or reminder?  I don't know but it works.

The curtain closes; (sitting comfortably in a chair in a darkened room) the audience is leaving the theater.  Each one talking with another, some happy, some not, all with emotional and physical reactions. (Relaxing, as all the tension and anxiety are assigned to the departing audience)   

When the theater is empty, all of the emotional and physical reactions to the production and to life in general  likewise depart.  And each one, as they leave, takes with them the anxiety and tension, it is gone.  The theater is silent and empty. (The body is fully relaxed; arms, legs, neck, shoulders, back, face, jaw, mouth agape.)

Then the director appears, descends a  staircase, counting down the twelve steps into the dimly lit storage area where the props, costumes, and sets from previous performers are kept.  He opens the door and enters the room, the remnants of those who filled these roles and costumes, who used these props and sets, are evident to him.  He places a chair and closes the door, he sits in the darkness of the room (doing so); no sound, no light, nothing stirring.

He whispers a name.  Lights a candle (Doing so.) Stares into the flame.  With the name in mind, he recalls occasions when he was with this person, what the person was doing.

He is receptive to anything this person may want to pass along to him.  He sits and stares into the flame, the quiet all around, the presence felt, the words, feelings, influences, memories, all seeping into his mind.  

A trickle at first, then more clearly; is there a message to be heard, felt, or perceived?  What would you tell me?  Are there things I should know, should do, of which I should be aware?  Are there ideas that can be shared, passed along, developed into action? How can the person be of assistance to him now?  Would that assistance be given?  Are there others to join us, who, why?

We sit together, enjoying the company, each of the other until the other gets up and turns to go, walks away, fades into the darkness.

Slowly the director gets up from the chair, sees the candle light and extinguishes it, opens the door, .  He goes up the stairs, counting each as he ascends.  One-two-three-four; up to five, six, seven, eight, (opening the eyes) to see the stage surrounding him, (the room) set as it is for the performance coming soon (the next).