We will never run out of water (primary, magmatic). We will never run out of oil (abiotic, self-replenishing). We will never run out of free energy (ether, zero point) for all. We will never run out of space for humans and their families to live well, to thrive, and to build resilient, naturally-aligned communities. Why do you choose to believe in the lies of scarcity and lack, and in the artifices of collectivized, socialized media?
Shut it down. Turn it off. Go live a little.
Why do you choose to believe that being human, relying upon your own heart, mind, imagination, empathy, spirit, and two hands, is not enough? Why is your trust and faith in living a good and meaningful life deferred to external authorities and influences?
Why are the opinions of others even considered, rather than the damning evidence of their actions, words, and deeds?
Shut it down. Turn it off. Go live a little.
. . .
The character of a man is tempered and forged through years and decades of stumbling and falling forward — if he chooses to take on the world, to rise time and again, to be broken and remade, and to be useful and productive, as is his natural inclination. He’ll see the weakness in his father, and, for a time, be unsure of his choices. Then, he’ll realize, he is his father’s son, good or bad, right or wrong. If he’s strong enough, he’ll take that gift, and remold it into his own image, and step forward in his own way, in his own time, for his own reasons. If he’s fortunate, he’ll have sons and daughters that will surely challenge, shape, teach, and define him. If he’s courageous enough, his works will outlive him, and his children, whether of blood, or by creative expression, will be his legacy.
The temperance, resilience, nurturing, and incomparable spirit of a woman is under constant pressure, for if she isn’t always beautiful, in shape, well-rested, calm, rational, accommodating, mothering, or giving, something’s wrong with her. Seventy years of feminism hasn’t been her friend. She’ll see the weakness in her mother, and, for a time, be unsure of her choices. Then, she’ll realize, she is her mother’s daughter, good or bad, right or wrong. That bond will never break. That love will never fade. That gift, which she will build upon, and weave into her own story, will strengthen her resolve, and guide her for the rest of her days. If she’s fortunate, she’ll have sons and daughters that will further challenge, shape, define, and redefine her. If she’s courageous enough, she’ll set free those angels, whether of blood, or by creative expression, to bless, empower, and inspire those who should come close enough to understand a mother’s love.
For both men and women, the mirrors and reflections will never be enough to answer all of their questions, nor resolve all of their traumas.
But, for everyone, their time will quickly run out.
Solvitur ambulando