How to Undo a Log Jam

 

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Barter is the original currency. When necessity gauged the actual rate of exchange. The hard work, sacrifice and importance to the family’s survival could be felt and traced in a product or service offered. It had substance.

The monetary system is one big game of chicken. It is an agreement of pretend. An arbitrary number is assigned to a person’s time.They somehow fall into a slot that needs to be filled by a person with the ability to conform. They need show only a hint of individuality so they stand out slightly above the other drones. But not enough to rock the boat of establishment.

Passion, creativity and exuberance are squelched out at every turn. Complacency and peer approval are the prison of conformity; especially in the work place. There needs to be so much talent, drive and vision for one soul to try to make it over the wall into personal expression and freedom.

Society pays people to not perform. They bow out with an excuse of disability because they don’t fit into the spectrum of what is valued as performance. They weave their complacency into a full blow victim consciousness and hide behind those who are really in need. The real deficiency is the lack of value this society puts on individual subjective talents. Society chains the human spirit by housing the able and monetarily rewarding so many that deem themselves disable. This is the true energy crisis; the lack of heart.

One side is blaming the other. Both sides together are like a black and white cookie. One side wants to cut every one off, and one side wants to validate everyone who bows out, as needy. Both sides are the extreme. The government itself, through it’s structure has locked all it’s constituents into a “them verses us” mode. It is paralyzed in inaction as one side cancels the other side out. We don’t have to go on a rampage of society to solve this issue.

The sweeping change that so many are desperately seeking, does not happen at the top. There needs to be a ground swelling of appreciation for a person’s worth. How many people do you know who wants to start a business but they are afraid to put a worth on themselves? Help them. Build them up. Put a high value on them. Pay someone for their service. Buy local. Local is usually someone who is using their skills and talents to be productive in society. Let’s reward them. Practice today by just saying something of value to those who work and serve. Flip a switch within that forgoes the criticism and makes a conscious choice to give gratitude. We can do this! I support us in this.

As a group we are feeling powerless. How do you undo a log jam? You move one component at a time. The more we empower those who still have the heart and drive to attempt success, the more we pave the way for the next person. We can do this as individuals. We can do this as Americans. We can agree to do this. This is the one issue that we may be able to reunite with. No more trashing the other side. No more wasting energy on feeling powerless. Let’s move all our support and passion to anyone still willing to succeed. Let’s give our heart to them in the form of monetary reward.

Evidence of Love’s Existence

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I was starving and exhausted beyond compare. In my mind, even though I wasn’t allowed to think (he would know) I ran a thought loop through my head that defied my captor’s attempts to break me. His programming was that I was disgusting, reviled, and hated by all that was pure and sacred and all the angels thought that I deserved to suffer in a miserable eternal existence of pain.

He laughed and scoffed at my humiliation and the more that I suffered, the happier he was. He would invent ways to draw out my anguish. He would eat in front of me and mock me as he forced me to work in over 100 degree heat until I was exhausted and emaciated. He told me that God hated me; that I had defiled all that was good to such a degree that God wanted to see me suffer and was pleased at my misery. Not because God was unkind, but because I was such a disgusting waste of existence.

There was really nothing from my history that obviously contradicted his statements. I had a large family that didn’t seem to embrace me, I had made no great strides in the community to show great evidence of the contrary. I had no family of my own. He took my dog from me and convinced me that my dog, whom I had rescued, really hated me. He made me serve the dog as a king because it was an extension of him.

My brain nearly gave up the ability to think rationally. It had exhausted the possibilities to counter his programming. But there was one statement from my spiritual teachings that kept me alive: Soul exists because God loves it. I existed so God must love me. It was the one irrefutable argument I had in my mental and physical fog. It defied all his efforts to break me. I existed. God must love me. I was lovable. others exist so God must love others. So now I am connected to all through this realization. I am connected to all through the Love. That is all that remained of who I was. I AM the evidence of Love’s existence.

A Good Day

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The child who is given such little regard
That keeps to them self
Tries real hard

That researches life through every exchange
Cries to themselves
Endures through disdain

The child who is taken less seriously
Gives of themselves
So creatively

The child who is never given, a second glance
Second helping
Or even a chance

The child who survives by flying under everyone’s sight
Who has make believe friends
Cries through the night

A child who grows weary of feeling the pain
Loves any little creature
To keep from going insane.

This child should grow into a crotchety old coot
It’s not that far fetched
The point isn’t moot

But somewhere, somehow love intervened
Kept this child safe
From a negative refrain

This child is adopted by nothing but grace
Though pain and its cousins
Show on its weary face

This child grows to adulthood
Ahead of the curve
To the chagrin of the haters who think it has nerve

Who does this child think that they are?
To remain so intact
Smiling through every scar

This child knew that the suffering that their small body could take
Was best felt in them
Than to watch someone else ache

The child took the suffering and passed it right through
It was as if it was a mission
That they needed to do

This child is a survivor and so is anyone that can see
That the plight of all others live in you
And in me.

So take this child’s example to pass through the pain
See it as a wisp of smoke leaving
And never a stain.

It doesn’t matter, if your life looks like a success
Just continue to continue
And know you are blessed

For every challenge that you meet that doesn’t sweep you a way
Just take a deep breath
And call it a good day

Jen Ward 6/18/16