(Hare on Bedfordshire farm; photo by Owen Hearn)
I understand, finally, that no one can save me or fix me. I accept I am damaged, in some ways horribly damaged, and none of it was my fault. What I ask – “all” I ask – is for loving hearts and minds to stay close as I repair and rescue myself. Of course, in order to do that, such folks will have to be likewise accepting and saving themselves; otherwise, my reality will trigger the shit out of them.
Sigh.
It’s a system that makes sense only if you strive to be in the present moment as you do the tikkun olam. Not features of Western medicine, capitalism, or organized christianity.
To paraphrase the popular Castro Street T-shirt of the plague years: “Life is good, then you die.”
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