The blog of a North Country Swede!

Friday, February 03, 2006

A butterfly flapping my wings ...

Some ground rules:

(1.) I am not interested in starting a movement. I am interested in being a butterfly flapping my wings in China ... whether or not the motion contributes to a hurricane in California.

(2.) I am interested in living a fully engaged creative life, which I believe is the highest good of human existence. The very essence of creativity is the maximizing of choice, having the option to choose to create something that satisfies my sense of awe, my wonderment. The fully engaged creative life is one of choosing what ought to be and then working to make it what is.

(3.) Maximizing of choice in the fully engaged creative life REQUIRES engaging/involving others in the activity. It is IMPOSSIBLE to do it in isolation.

(4.) In order for this engagement of others to "work" MOST effectively, I believe I must allow the others (and actively participate in fostering for the others) to have the same opportunity to live this life as I do ... thereby doing exactly what life does, extend opportunity throughout the gene-pool allowing survival of the fittest.

I do not think we need another "movement". I think we need to apply these ground rules to all movements. The joyful awareness of creatively engaging the cosmos will attract others ... or it won't and which case the potential of humanity as I see it will be lost ... for this epoch.

But to try to organize/impose a system from some type of leadership (Nietzsche's "Will to System") destroys the social environment for maximizing of choice in the fully engaged creative life. The trouble with most patriarchal testosterone driven "king-of-the-hill" paradigms is that they totally destroy Camelot's merry, merry month of May.

Maybe we citizens should simply concentrate on what we do best--like the butterfly flapping its wings--without trying to control the hurricane that results in the chaos of our world. Maybe it is when we don't do our part, that things get out of whack.

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