This morning I went to our local Farmer’s Market (held in the gymnasium of the long-time alternative Harmony School during winter months), and as usual, things were hopping. I knew I was supposed to see someone there, though I didn’t know who, and so was open to whatever opportunity . . .
Aha, it’s “D”! I know now, I realized, as I brushed past him on the first of three occasions. Knowing he saw me too, and relishing that fact. Knowing that his seeing me reminded him of a facebook exchange that I have a feeling, blew both of us away; especially when this man, a very smart, and usually an unusually logical, reasonable person, commented a few months ago that he would happy to kill me if our political views continued to polarize and he ran into me in public! Well, as you can imagine, I didn’t even bother to respond to that comment. I figured if he sat with it awhile, he’d come to his senses.
So today, after our first near-encounter, I was faced with a choice: should I go up to him? Should I say, humorously, “Still want to kill me?” Decided against it. Decided to let him stew in his own juices a while longer.
Best-case scenario: he would have come up and apologized. But that, of course, is very difficult these days, when more and more people are personally identified with their “point of view” (the point from which they view) rather than holding it at arm’s length and realizing that no matter what they currently think, they must remain open-minded.
I live in a blue-pilled academic town; I am an anomaly, given my red-pill tendencies, which, I’ve said here over and over again, have morphed, at first slowly, and then drastically and radically only since 2011 when I dropped my print subscription to the New York Times and started this blog, to reflect on my own investigations — and using of course, the internet, and developing, of course, as a result, my own little “silo” which, of course, I’d like to think is very tall and very wide!
But never mind. What’s important here is that we pay attention to how we are all being trolled by everything that comes out of everybody’s mouth! There is no such thing as “facts.” All facts are “factoids,” as I’ve understood for decades. In fact, I was one of the original people who rejected “logical positivism,” and began to ironically use the word “factoid” instead — because it appears that so-called immutable and certain facts actually mutate, have half-lives, and are decidedly radioactive.
So this morning, I read the fabulous comments by both Turtle Turtle and Laura B in response to yesterday’s post, and in doing so, then decided to check out a reddit post Turtle Turtle mentioned. Here it is:
Oh, and my Minneapolis cousin Ben K., with whom I’ve got a running political division — engaged in with great love for each other, not hatred, maybe it helps to be family — has invited me to a bet, regarding the outcome of the Trump/Nancy drama. He and his facebook friends had been commenting on how wonderful and smart and powerful their hero Nancy is, how she made DJT “cave” (a word the MSM is using, with glee). I sighed, knew what I was getting into, and commented back:
To which, he replied:
Oh, and one of my podmates here, historically blue-pilled, actually admitted to me yesterday that he found one of Trump’s tweets funny. And I mean funny-haha! not funny strange. So maybe we’re getting somewhere.
In other words, let’s relax a bit, and try not to get furious every time we see something that we don’t agree with! It’s important to recognize everyone as a suffering soul who is doing the very best he or she can to make sense of a chaotic and apparently climactic world where storm winds are blowing so powerfully that it’s very very difficult even for the most stable among us to remain centered, and caring, and above all, aware of how we too, no matter how smart and thorough and expert we think we are, actually have absolutely no idea what is really going on! How could we know! We only have our point of view, among billions! And they’re all being broadcast, all at once!
The old structures (visible and invisible, in the mind, in the world) are cracking open, breaking down, breaking open! The new structures are not yet organized. Humanity enters the state where the slow moving caterpillar dissolves into mush so that the freely flying butterfly can form.
That’s the hope. That’s the goal. That’s the intention. The more of us who dream this dream, who form this intention, and hold it in our hearts, the more likely that our collective power can actually materialize the beautiful butterfly.
Winter. Time for dreaming.