Passionate about learning and feeding my hunger, I find so much written verified by study. Kierkegaard says that the more one forgets, the more changes one can wrought in life. The more one remembers, the more divine life becomes and the fewer options life contains.
I learned early on, that the stronger one’s Conscience, the stronger one’s responsibility to commitments, of course fewer options. Eventually, the higher one reaches, the narrower the road becomes. No option remains except straight on through. It becomes the only way.
Everything is a Given by experience. One learns or one expires. Kierkegaard scribed and so do I and many authors do. If one’s work has market value, one takes one’s profits to a bank. I credit my desire to learn while trying not to make too much garbage for my progeny to shovel.
Kierkegaard gave meaning to the levels of heaven. I have learned that the heaven of man’s creation is more a myth than an actuality. I recreated worlds with memory giving glimpses remembered lovingly, and tried to duplicate. I replicated to the extent I could but with no extra hands to help, the work eventually stopped my heart.
We come borning with the idea we can make a difference. Let me go Father, I can make a difference we all say. And we do. Sometimes we jump start evolution. It is the only way we can save our planet from going down the tube again. Jesus tried. He believed in evolution and tried to make man accountable by not blaming parents for the ills of progeny and to the child harbored in adult bodies, he became an intermediary.
This has been my knowledge for nearly 90 years. Not the easiest way to live, especially when one sees one’s country struggling to grow up. In the midst of turmoil groping, yet with hope, there will be Light when the turmoil concludes.
You Are The Difference. . . .
Walking obscure, you catch a glimpse
of yourself in a storefront, not trendy
nor polished, a little unkempt,
not to be remembered. Wondering why
must you always smell of baby powder.
So much to do with so many needs.
Why do you hear them crying?
It’s always the children, you think,
for whom you would do much,
but some of them are so big and so old. . .
You pass out treats to the little ones
and listen with your heart to the elderly. . . .
You wonder if your caring can make
any difference in lives that are so needy.
You are the difference,
you who take the time to blot teary faces
and listen to abandoned lives. . .Hazarding that. . . .
some are too big to sit on your lap
but all the right size
to sit on your heart. . . .