To take a break from writing about the Tao Te Ching, a song shared with me by a friend merits a good look. The truth telling of the lyricist (Jesse Welles) is extraordinary. As Americans the countries which we care least about, are the countries and peoples that we involve in our machismo parodies. I do not know whether the occupants of the alleged “drug trafficker boat” off the coast of Venezuela were transporting narcotics, – but I saw eleven lives terminated in an instant without examination, absent due process. And so it goes, Bangladesh, Vietnam, and now Venezuela.

The great books of our civilizations, the teachings of Jesus and those of Lao Tsu clearly are not enough to inspire us to pause before we hate others. Religion is confusing. What it gives on the one hand, it takes away on the other…

Furthermore the reflex to hate your neighbor, whether the guy next door, or the illegal ‘criminals’ that Christie Noem disparages on television, isn’t at all dissipated by rational analysis, or a tighter grip on the privilege which I imagine is due me.

Loving to replace the hating makes good sense. Thinking hard has not helped. Hate has a momentum that becomes heavier and heavier by the day. Inwardly I smolder, and sometimes rage verbally against those I oppose. Would I murder them, take their lives without due process if I could? Without question someday, the last day of my life will come, my last sunrise.

Jesse Welles writes to consider the limits of my conscious existence, books read but forgotten, the places I’ll be unable to visit, the many notes I wrote while I was in business that fell into the shredder, etc., etc.. Finally, what of the so many stars that I’ll not have time to see, -100 billion estimated in our milky way alone?

Perchance this song might nudge me towards a “loving” mode of relating?

Life is short and it’s high time that I explore those forks in my road.

One more thing.

A contrast to “thinking harder”, the “tighter grip” – a friend related this story. I asked him what method he used to launch his enormously powerful race car, while waiting on the starting line for the flash of the green go-light. Jeff said that he holds the “transmission brake” button attached to the steering wheel, ever so lightly. When the amber bulb flashes, just .4 second ahead of the green, his finger slips off the button.

I suppose “that’s it” something that you learn, to have a light touch, to hold others, and circumstances lightly, especially those whose reality is illuminated by another star. The light touch allows the timely release, expedient to move towards understanding, to receive their reality, a life painted with colors of how they interpret their journey. Understanding seems an aspect of loving, – even of an enemy.

It is time to stop the whipping…