No Hell (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 218)

Mama said the stars are the universe’s eyes.
I can feel them watching over me most of the time.
We grew up believing we could learn how to fly.
We came from the earth, but we belong to the sky.
I saw your soul without the skin attached,
and you’ve got the guts of a coyote pack.
We’ve been kissed, we’ve been cut, but we do what needs the doing.
We’re just rainbows dreaming we are human.
Please excuse the lights shooting out of my head.
I keep them in a cage, but they come out when they see a friend (you must be a friend).
You’re never really gonna have control of it all,
so you best get cool with where your chips gonna fall.
We are the sun and mother’s milk and cuss words and poetry.

There’s no use in running, unless you run like heck.
The best things we’ve learned, we learned from the wreck.
Jesus coming back as a woman this time,
handing out hugs in the clinic line.
Someone tell the devil we don’t need no hell.
We’re all pretty good at beating up ourselves.

As kids we believed that the angels talked.
Everything is magic, til you think it’s not.
It’s easy to be thankful for the things you’ve got.
It takes guts to give thanks for the things you’ve lost
We grew up believing good wins over bad,
So you gave away your heart but the wolves attacked.
(But then a bigger heart grew back)
Please excuse the words coming out of my mouth,
I’m a happy man, but there are some things I need to get out…

There’s no use in running, unless you run like heck.
The best things we’ve learned, we learned from the wreck.
Jesus coming back as a woman this time,
handing out hugs in the clinic line.
Someone tell the devil we don’t need no hell.
We’re all pretty good at beating up ourselves.

Cloud Cult – Lyrics*

*You should check out the song if you are not familiar with it.

With That Moon Language (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 215)

With That Moon Language

Admit something:

Everyone you see,

you say to them,

“Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud,

otherwise,

someone would call the cops.

Still,

though,

think about this,

this great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one

who lives

with a full moon in each eye

that is always saying,

with that sweet moon language,

what every other eye

in this world

is

dying to hear?

Muhammad Hafiz

 c.1320-1389

The Difference Between Bandaged and Unbandaged Reality (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 214)

Pretext: I am a veterinarian and this piece relates to the practice of veterinary medicine, but its greater purpose and message is in its complete metaphorical potential.

I recently performed a skin graft on one of my patients because I did not have enough surrounding tissue remaining to close the incision after removing a tumor off of the dog’s lower leg. This surgery is almost always done at specialty hospitals and associated with a much higher cost that what I charged the client. My opportunity to perform this procedure in this manner and have the fortunate results so far experienced is also highly attributable to the clients/owners for being exceptionally attentive and observant in the post-op aftercare of their dog and in complying with all of my instructions and requests.

Today is post-op day 14 and the graft has done exceptionally well. It appears that 80-90% of it will take. That’s a pretty high ratio of expectation especially given the conservative manner in which the wound has been managed.

I was very excited about the results when I performed the recheck exam today and I almost took a picture so that I might share the level of skill and success my team/hospital has been able to achieve for the patient. But then, as I was talking with my staff, we collectively realized that anyone in the general public that viewed a picture of the wound in its current state would not be able to appreciate or understand what they were looking at. Most likely, they would think that a butcher had performed the surgery and was displaying a sick picture of his gore.

That is such a hard concept for me. To know, to profoundly know, and objectively see the exceptional product or change that you can bring about doing things the right way and yet, be unable to share it with others so that they might see, appreciate, and accept the truth of the matter. So, explicit truth must be tamed down or covered up with a bandage until it might become subtle enough in appearance for someone to not even appreciate its presence or the significant difference in effort and skill that it brought about.

Taming things down seems to make everything look the same. It collectively homogenizes outliers and noteworthy differences. In part, I think that’s why such a tolerance has been allowed to foster, or maybe I should say fester.

Maybe we should be looking at the raw unfiltered and unbandaged truth more; looking at the flesh, the ooze, the scabbing, the inflammation, the blood supply, and the compromised tissue, which are all involved and relevant towards the final outcome. That might tell the true tale; the difference between what works and what does not; the difference between what we are capable of and what we settle for; the difference between the illusion of proclaimed reality via lip service and the reality experienced through witnessing the healing of a very challenging and complicated wound.

Jeff Cribb DVM          2017

Orwell: A Bard Navigating the World of the Gutter Crawlers (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 213)

The interesting thing about the New Albion was that it was so completely modern in spirit. There was hardly a soul in the firm who was not perfectly well aware that publicity—advertising—is the dirtiest ramp that capitalism has yet produced. In the red lead firm there had still lingered certain notions of commercial honour and usefulness. But such things would have been laughed at in the New Albion. Most of the employees were the hard-boiled, Americanised, go-getting type—the type to whom nothing in the world is sacred, except money. They had their cynical code worked out. The public are swine; advertising is the rattling of a stick inside a swill bucket. And yet beneath their cynicism there was the final naïveté, the blind worship of the money-god. Gordon studied them unobtrusively. As before, he did his work passably well and his fellow-employees looked down on him. Nothing had changed in his inner mind. He still despised and repudiated the money-code. Somehow, sooner or later, he was going to escape from it; even now, after his late fiasco, he still plotted escape. He was in the money-world, but not of it. As for the types about him, the little bowler-hatted worms who never turned, and the go-getters, the American business-college gutter crawlers, they rather amused him than not. He liked studying their slavish keep-your-job mentality, He was the chiel amang* them takin’ notes.

One day a curious thing happened. Somebody chanced to see a poem of Gordon’s in a magazine, and put it about that they “had a poet in the office.” Of course Gordon was laughed at, not ill-naturedly, by the other clerks. They nicknamed him “the bard” from that day forth. But though amused, they were also faintly contemptuous. It confirmed all their ideas about Gordon. A fellow who wrote poetry wasn’t exactly the type to Make Good.

*the chiel amang = the young man (Scottish) among

Keep the Aspidistra Flying

George Orwell          1936

Hero Bullies versus Us (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 206)

Our society has indoctrinated us, taught us from birth, what normal is and what to expect from it. It has taught us the capitalistic lesson of the hero bully, the champion over-dominator, who gets to rise above all others and hoard all of the resources and power that he so chooses to do. We have been taught from birth that everyone is an individual entity unto to themselves, bearing responsibility, performing sacrifice, and reaping reward only as an individual. It is never “us” because that always allows the excuse of plausible and discardable deniability; enables the embodiment of a scapegoat to wash away all the sins of the herd, so that the herd may always go marching merrily away in celebration of its deniability. Only in the rare instances of kissing a hero bully’s ass as part of the court graced by his power and prestige or when begging for the scrumptious scraps he has thrown off of his throne, does the “us” get subtly remembered as part of the human condition and whispered ever so hopefully to the hero bully in the name of favorable submissive leverage; only then. But even still, the long hand of the court or of the herd engaged in worshipping the hero bully, retains the reflexive instinct to fold their “us card” in a moments notice, should their bully hero fall from his grace and power as a high achieving over-dominator. We raise the hero bully up in our society only so long as it benefits us personally and we do so in particular because that bully operates in direct contradiction to the balance of natural order, respect, and empathy, that we would otherwise have to endure ourselves. He delivers us into our own happy diabolic debasement. And when we are done with our selfish machinations that he has enabled, we gleefully cut him down so that we may look at him nailed upon a cross instead of our own souls.

The hero bully is your mate, controlling you with money, sex, a marriage certificate, or the presence of a child.

The hero bully is your employer, making you work for less than you deserve and forcing you into unethical and immoral behavior towards others that benefits his business just because he can.

The hero bullies are the corporations and businesses which drain you dry via perpetual psychological warfare, but are nonetheless, nice enough to do their best to make you feel like you are exceptionally special and smart in your purchasing habits and indebtedness.

The hero bullies are the political leaders of bombast, hyperbole, and vitriol. Those who ramp up your emotions and hatred of others while they compulsively lie about everything so that they may pilfer your pocket and your personal freedoms unheeded.

The hero bully can even become your child or your dog if you tragically allow such to happen.

All of this is wrong and heinous. It isn’t natural. It is an orchestration to turn natural order, respect, and a true understanding of communal union upside down. It is the modus operandi of madness, instability, and isolation which is only capable of being addicted to over-dominating and plundering everything outside of itself.

Understanding this paradigm is the first essential step necessary for an individual to comprehend if they truly desire to foster, promote, and nurture, the universal behavior and relationships necessary to create a better world for all.

Cribb          2017

A Good Story, Overconfidence, and Mattering (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 204)

Pretext Note: These are highly relevant and insightful quotes about behavior and awareness from a psychologist who won the Nobel Prize in economics for helping to create the field of behavioral economics.

What people want is not the well being of their experiencing self. What people want is more closely associated with a remembering self. They want to have good memories. They want good opinions of themselves. They want to have a good story about their life.

When you look globally at people’s actions, overconfidence is endemic. I mean we have too much confidence in our beliefs and our overconfidence is really associated with a failure of imagination. We cannot imagine an alternative to our beliefs. We are convinced that only our beliefs can be true. That is overconfidence. And overconfidence is almost always involved with failures of every sort, including those catastrophic and of great impact upon all of humanity. On the other hand, overconfidence and overconfident optimism is the engine of capitalism. I mean all entrepreneurs are overconfident. They all think they are going to be successful. People who open restaurants in New York, think they will succeed, otherwise they wouldn’t do it, but at least two thirds of them will have to give up within a few years. In our society, we reward overconfidence. We almost demand that our leaders exercise and proclaim overconfidence.

What I don’t know matters enormously. What I don’t see matters enormously.

Daniel Kahneman

 

An Asshole and a Victim (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 202)

The more you bend or distort truth the more likely you’re an asshole or a victim. The victim often believes it necessary to bend and distort their own truth to counter the pseudo-reality approach of the asshole. The problem is that such a tactic resolves nothing. It forces no correction with the measure and mirror of truth and reality. It only provides a counter excuse for the asshole to continue their orchestrated destabilizations with even less thought and comprehension than before.

Eventually, such an approach leads to the victim becoming another asshole. Resistance is not futile. You cannot fight delusion with delusion. Forget about countering the asshole with asshole tricks and tactics. Focus all of your effort intensely on your comprehensive awareness of objective unbiased reality. That choice unbends truth and brings it resolutely into focus. Unbent truth is the only grace capable of resolving victimization and forcing an asshole to see themselves as they truly exist beyond the mask of all of their plausible layers of excuse and delusion.

Truth is the proper correction for all.

Cribb          2017