Monday, June 24th, 2013. Filed under: Amazing Universe Consciousness Inspiration Spirituality
[I find this stunningly beautiful and enlightening. A clearly conscious view of our weird-ass journey here and what is of value and what isn't. Brilliant and wonderfully transcendent as always from Mr. High. - Zen]
by clif high
As with most humans, i have failed at most things in my life.
What seems to set me apart from others, besides a curious lack of attachment to my ‘identity’, is that i count each failure as a personal badge of honor. Many of these badges are worn for all the world to see as scars and disfigurements. i would not have it otherwise; absent ego driven pride, satisfaction is the deepest of the core emotional states, just above love and fear. i am satisfied with my failures.
In a life longer than i had any right to expect, i have learned to fail very well indeed. i had thought to catalog my failures in a very impressive list, but i even fail at that. There is not enough ego pressure to even try to impress itself (prelude to trying to impress others) with its long list of failures. Suffice it to say, that if it was expected of a man, in our western society, over these last 60/sixty years, i have failed at it. Every challenge expected of a man in our society, i stood to meet, only to be knocked down by universe.
Perhaps i agreed in my soul contract, to come as exemplar of failure; perhaps i chose the way of failure as it was something i understood from a previous life, it did not matter, as somehow, whenever i tried on the clothing of success, the fit made me feel uncomfortable, constrained, and strangely, nearer to non-death.
Perhaps it was early exposure to the ‘elites’, to those who had ‘achieved success’, or been born into its more favored location in this matrix; perhaps it was some universe planted flaw in my genetics; perhaps space aliens mucked about with my dna; it seems not to be knowable, only evident that i fail to know why i am a failure. However, i do know that ‘success’ that i have seen, scares me into satisfaction with my life of failure.
i have met those humans who have achieved success, and without variant, i have felt pity for them in their presence. These humans have ‘achieved’, and from that point on, the were stuck with their ‘success’. Mostly i think it may have ‘made’ their lives, but it ruined their souls. To my failure accustomed eyes, the ‘successful’ always evoked feelings of the same flavor as i had when viewing the ancient Pharohic Eqyptian relics: here was a civilization that worshipped, and devoted all of its efforts toward a single goal, the ‘unchanging state of success’. If you read their surviving literature, a single overarching thematic impression comes across, that life was nothing but a pursuit for perfect, successful stasis. That success could be defined as ‘ever unchanging’.
i shudder to consider it, and the skin on my back wants to craw off my spine at the thought of suffering such ‘success’. Rather give me my life of wanton failure in infinite reincarnations over a single life of perpetual, eternal, immortal success.
Now lest you think my attitude some twisted conspiracy theorist apologectic sop toward reconciling my personal narrative to my life ending as a failure, let me point out that it is manifesting universe that reinforces my view every time i am presented with ‘news’ of the successful humans of this planet. i am repelled by the slick, non (or trans?) human images presented as success. One looks at their smooth, unaffected faces (no honor badges there, no scars saying this face has lived, tried, failed and suffered), and nearly weep at the horror of it all. What are these beings presented as ‘success’ models by the media? What species is being held up as our collective goal? It sure as fuck is not a a human.
[Hat tip: Erik - tx!]
Thanks to Zen at: http://www.zengardner.com