Our work is stepping free of old stories.
New stories are a vessel to Life.
Story teaches us where we are going
and where we do not want to be
and what we don’t want to do.
Story weaves identity.
Story teaches us that our limitations are necessary,
illusory and impermanent
- just like any structure, except the cosmicn and absolute.
Story teaches us these lessons
over and over
and more and more safely
until we are free of story…
on a far away day that's close at hand…
where all we will know is dance, music, being and love
history confused story with reality
and confounded story with tradition
and trumped story with religion
tradition is just a word for broken continuity
tradition is to a dam as continuity is to water
thanks for listening
and peace
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Worldwide War on Rape
When he was raping Rose Mary, she looked tearlessly, fearlessly. She gazed into his pathos and countenance as a tiger does the meat on a monkey. Calmly and hotly Rose Mary repeated thrice from her womb through her mouth: “I made you - I made you - I made you.”
The meaning pacified his dark heart and put the rest of him to sleep. He was like the unconscious fetus he had been inside his mother.
Rose Mary got up, took a shit on his face and called the cops – and then cleaned him up so that no one would ever know. Her vengeance was hers. Rose Mary did not need to speak of what happened to a therapist or friend. She told it all in court – except for the part about the shit.
Then Rose Mary went on a speaking tour, telling her story to Congolese women’s groups. They were first to hear about her shitting on the rapist’s face. As many tears as woman’s shit brings, it had never brought so many as when Rose Mary told her story to the Congolese.
Their hearts burned so hot to hear her that a new war started in their dignitiless land: a war on rape.
When a man loses his dignity he is more prone to rape. Stopping rape is a matter of nurturing man’s dignity.
An actual Congolese rapist-soldier said that he saw his parents killed when he was nine and then he had nothing, “not even soap.” He had “no dignity” and “chose to live like an animal.”
The meaning pacified his dark heart and put the rest of him to sleep. He was like the unconscious fetus he had been inside his mother.
Rose Mary got up, took a shit on his face and called the cops – and then cleaned him up so that no one would ever know. Her vengeance was hers. Rose Mary did not need to speak of what happened to a therapist or friend. She told it all in court – except for the part about the shit.
Then Rose Mary went on a speaking tour, telling her story to Congolese women’s groups. They were first to hear about her shitting on the rapist’s face. As many tears as woman’s shit brings, it had never brought so many as when Rose Mary told her story to the Congolese.
Their hearts burned so hot to hear her that a new war started in their dignitiless land: a war on rape.
When a man loses his dignity he is more prone to rape. Stopping rape is a matter of nurturing man’s dignity.
An actual Congolese rapist-soldier said that he saw his parents killed when he was nine and then he had nothing, “not even soap.” He had “no dignity” and “chose to live like an animal.”
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