what are you, some kind of pioneer, or sumpin?

Yes, or sumpin. Not back to repeat the past but forward to create a future for ourselves. Souls out, hands to help, mind to dream and guide. We're spirit beings in a spiritual world. We're also made of dirt, and eat dirt and sunshine and rain. We're pioneers, venturing into spaces unknown, in cities and suburbs and farmtowns across america. We're blazing new paths, recreating our constellations, getting to know ourselves, getting used to being alive again. It's new. We don't always know what to do, and mistakes, sure they get made. And we learn.

We continue to dream, and awakening from each dream, another veil is lifted. We may never know how clouded our vision is, but always we are in search of the clarity of delerium. Surely, gobbling prozac and sitting in cars and in front of computers is not the way to keep a soul alive. The path well-worn, the rut of working Americans, working their way between shopping, slavery, and mortgage (the literal death-pledge), has lost its appeal. Surely, there has got to be another way, or many other ways.

Are our human brains smart enough to figure this one out? We have found the cave of treasures, the black iron prison. They are the one and the same. Can we let go of the delight in our grasp in order to remove our hand from the irresistible trap? Maybe we could if we were monkeys.

My monkey brain knows it would rather carry wood and haul ashes than to work in a gas station to earn money for natural gas central heat that leaves me cold. I know I'd rather spend some time and energy in using my body to plant my own food rather than work in a grocery store to pay for illnutritious food from far far away. I know I'd rather spend my days hanging out with my kid, my spouse and my friends than with coworkers I don't enjoy. I'd rather spend time in joy, taking care of my self and my community and the jardin zomba. That's so much more fun than going to work and the mall!

So, are we pioneers, or sumpin? You got it, a pioneer, a race traitor, an uncivilized ill-mannered well-fed quarter-drunk loving mother who imbibes this life in the garden of eden.

sharqi