The Inner Struggle

Humility & Humiliation …

An old ditty goes something like this: “Love & Marriage go together like a horse and carriage”. This is redolent of a ancient age when “Love” was caring and sacrificial, willing the good of the loved one.

Our current usage of “love” mostly implies some sort of justification for fornication and the exploitation of sex objects for self gratification. We accessorize members of the attractive “sex”, whatever their biological alignment, or genetic configuration based on how good they look  with us or “how they make me feel”.

Or we pick a paramour based on the current “Flavour Du Jour” in our social circle, our Facebook group, or as a form of virtue signalling according to whichever politically correct legislation just emerged from the dung heap called “Parliament”,

And we embrace whatever drum the media are currently beating … we need to “fit in”, right? And if our accessory no longer “fits in” then it’s time to trade “it” in for something fresher.

And, Humility and Humiliation go together as well, for how is one to learn true humility without humiliation? Many souls desire to be humble, but few desire humiliation. Many souls pray to be made humble “place in me a humble and contrite heart” … but very few want to be humiliated.

Humility is truth. So, we should admit to ourselves that we possess nothing of ourselves except sin,  and so it is just and righteous that we receive humiliation and scorn. If we believed this truth we would accept it as truly just that all would humiliate us and treat us without consideration and despise us.

What honor and consideration does one deserve who has offended his Creator? Even a single venial sin is more deplorable and worthy of more contempt than the most miserable earthly condition, the poorest and lowest station in life.

And so we travel along through life on our merry way, loving ourselves infinitely,  believing sincerely that we are practically perfect in every way, that we are good, that we deserve to be treated well, even better than most others.

The result of such insulation from reality is that in our cosmic self love we interpret every correction, contradiction, every humiliation and comment detracting from our self perceived perfection as a personal attack deserving of the most fervent counterattack, the source of our discomfort must be put down, terminated, hopefully never to rise to sully our self regard again.

And in that self-referential state of faith in our own perfection we destroy totally any and every possibility of growth. We are already perfect. We choose to bask in our own perfection and reject God’s gentle reproof coming to us in the guise of other’s unhappiness with our actions.

We choose to go down the perfect wide path to eternal damnation because we cannot accept correction in any form. And lest, in our self absorption we forget, we need to understand that morality goes beyond the bedroom, to embrace every moment of our social and public lives. Lest we forget … Lest we forget.

There is no possibility of improvement in a soul that rejects all correction and humiliation. But God brings good out of even this evil.

The place where these “perfect” souls interact with others, the interface of personal relations, provide the perfect opportunity for others, more aware of and sensitive to God’s call, to accept humiliation and to practice genuine humility.

It is a true treasure to be offered the opportunity to practice genuine charity and humility, all the  while compensating in the normal train of events for the casual incompetence and even  malice of others, to practice keeping others safe and comfortable in spite of their own ignorance, incompetence, ingratitude, and slovenly self worship.

And to do all this in spite of receiving scorn and denigration and belittlement for rendering this selfless service in such a routine way that it is taken totally for granted by the recipients, their natural due flowing from their exalted state of perfection,.

Presumably, after enough practice, one can even reach a state of charitable love of the other and not resent the recurring instances of chaos needing to be forever and again repaired, fixed up, cleaned up, provided for, anticipated and planned for future rescue efforts.

To charitably accept the utter obliviousness of the perpetrators of the mess and chaos when their utter lack of caring about anything except their self image spreads the chaos far and wide like some apocalyptic tsunami of trouble.

And mostly even malice is absent in this unaware ignorance. Lacking culpability in the obliviousness of daily life, can one even really identify this as sinful?

This “trouble” ranges from all the trivial rotting garbage of uncaring slights and messes left behind for others to deal with at the lowest levels of the ladder of perfection, to the rampant murder of innocents and corruption of the masses for the utility of the elite which we witness every day at the highest levels of this evil of self worship, this pride in self.

If one is unaware of the consequences and misery resulting from one’s actions, if one sincerely “doesn’t mean it”, then is remorse, penitence and correction even possible? If we are “sinless” through lack of culpability then are the narcissists actually right in their belief?

Endless opportunities for humiliation and the practice of humility, true humility. “Bear your humiliation patiently, for man is tried in this crucible as gold in the fire” (Sir 2, 4-5)

Cheers

Joe

Eeyore has a poor opinion of most of the other animals in the Forest, describing them as having “No brain at all, some of them”, “only grey fluff that’s blown into their heads by mistake” (from chapter 1 of The House at Pooh Corner).

Eeyore’s favorite food is thistles. He lives in the southeast corner of the Hundred Acre Wood, in an area labeled “Eeyore’s Gloomy Place: Rather Boggy and Sad” on the map in the book.

He has a stick house therein called The House at Pooh Corner. Pooh and Piglet built it for him after accidentally mistaking the original house that Eeyore built for a pile of sticks.

 

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Life in a small town, Pen as Sword - Social Commentary, The Inner Struggle

Why Do We Choose Confrontation…

“Waiting For the Night To Fall”, Casting Crowns

A pervasive part of our modern English culture, our progressive society, is the theme of confrontation. Confrontation and conflict, compulsionexploitation and coercion .  Conflict enters when the victims of compulsion reject what is happening and attempt to turn the tables on the exploiters, usually without success.

Without success because the oppressor is usually the heavy  hand of the state or state sponsored or assisted multinational corporations in all their myriad manifestations and incarnations, the uncivil servant, the pompous bureaucrat (government or corporate) inflated with his or her own self importance and smug immunity from prosecution or accountability. As I wrote last year about: The time will inevitably come  Hmmm …

Everywhere and every when … We choose to antagonize and confront instead of thinking first “how will this impact those around us?”.  But we don’t think first, do we?  We never seem to ask “How can I make this better or easier or less stressful?”  We just cruise along dropping bombs and strafing everything that responds.  This is what produces so much of the “suffering” I was alluding to in the last post.

It is sunny and cold (+3) here again but the high winds which have been making life in Fort McMurray hell have finally abated around here. Folks here are seeding like crazy, everyone is so busy that the town is like a ghost town. But if we don’t get rain we will be in big trouble in a month or so. But, been here before – probably when we finally have our rain it will be just a month too late to save the crops and then we will get hail to wipe out everything that’s left. I wouldn’t be a farmer for anything. In Ottawa some 22,000 folks took part in the Canadian Right to Life march on Parliament hill. Is that a good number? Will it make any difference in this nation of progressives? Only God knows … literally.

Listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWCTlewV3fY.  Thinking about life out here, sipping a strong coffee and preparing to open the store for another day of business. We have good days and bad but we soldier on and get it done. The circus with getting my B-I-L onto a program for the handicapped has finally wound down as after 18 and a half months of non-stop pushing the string we finally have him accepted into a program for mentally handicapped folks who are unemployable.

It’s really a kind of a miracle that a province like Alberta has a long established program like AISH. Who knows how long it will last under the New Democratic Peoples party.  Again I wonder just how do handicapped people without an ardent, energetic, advocate get help. The system is sure stacked against them even though it allegedly exists only to help them.

My cynical, uncharitable side thinks that our government programs exist to provide work for the unemployable parasites who form the bulk of our government employee population, a safe union crowd who always vote left and can be relied upon to faithfully implement what ever their masters command, but that can’t be right can it? Really, on closer examination it seems that the bleeding edge service folks are all doing their best to make the system work for the “clients” but one can only do so much.

If programs are crippled by the removal of key personnel without whom assessments or approval cannot move forward is that called doing one’s best for victims? If paperwork languishes in a variety of inbox’s for months because the employee for that desk is on leave of absence or limited work hours as part of a “program” for re-entering the “workforce” is the effect on the suffering victims ever considered in the compassionate world of caring for the unionized government “worker”? One dare not complain  lest one’s file fall to the bottom of the glacial pile, or worse, “gets lost”.

At what level of the food chain do budgetary considerations trump service? When a keystone position, without which person the  assessments and approval of eligibility for programs cannot move forward, is left vacant it essentially stops the entire program in it’s tracks. When the position remains vacant for months or years because the senior managers wish to save the money for that PE, and the no-longer flowing benefits, to use for other “more important” things it leads one to question the purpose of the programs.

At what point does “just doing one’s job” slide into active obstruction of an established program’s intent and spirit? Is anyone doing anything wrong? Is anyone responsible for the misery incurred by potential candidates, and their families,who cannot get a service or program to which they are entitled and for which they fully qualify?  For want of a nail, and all that. What is the intent of those who set up this situation?  I know for sure that if it was a business it would have gone tits-up early on.

How does one observe these sorts of goings on with compassion? Compassion for the poor victims, Compassion for the poor bureaucrats? And these are the folks who will be responsible for implementing our brand new, “Death with Dignity”, made in Canada, Euthanasia program. In another universe folks die because of this sort of cluster. In Canada it is an official program.

“The Banks Of Green Willow”, Vaughan-Williams: “The London Symphony Orchestra & Richard Hickox”, 2001

Bad DayA Bad Day. Crash on Deck on HMCS Fraser, Eastlant deployment, 1972. No life like it.

We almost got run down by a Dutch AOR, the HNLMS Zuiderkruis,  one dark night on that exercise. Or maybe that was in 75 … it all kinda blurs together these days. It was over 40 years ago after all.HNLMS_Zuiderkruis_A_832

We were close enough to see the welds on her hull plating. Close call that, If the OOW wasn’t a fast thinker she would have sunk us and sent all 150 of us to the bottom, and maybe herself as well in the resultant firestorm of exploding Jet-B and munitions.  I wonder if it would have even made the front page? All classified don’tcha know.

Now wouldn’t that have been fun. If the collision didn’t kill us, trying to swim home from the eastern North Atlantic probably would have. Kinda cold out there and not many cabs. I was a rescue swimmer but a thousand miles is a bit of a stretch for even the best swimmers.

I often use the above images to remind me of what a Bad Day REALLY is all about.  Not the wimpy little crisis we usually see that turn everyone into whining wingers, and wouldn’t even happen if folks were less confrontational and more charitable.  Just accept the suffering Joe, fighting against it only makes it a hundred times worse. Maybe I am getting old … old sailors never die and all that, but I do get tired of the hammerheads occasionally. More compassion Joe, more compassion, judge not and all that.

Even though I weary of the struggle at times, and sometimes get discouraged, things are really pretty good here for all of us, all things considered, even the fact that I am coming up to 64, considering my high risk lifestyle, is a blessing, or perhaps even a miracle. I think I probably owe my guardian angel a few beer when I get to heaven, if they have beer in heaven and if angels drink. (and if I get to heaven of course).

Cheers

Joe

 

coptic-desertAlways remember, “Be charitable in your judgements, and never take yourself too seriously”

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Life in a small town, The Inner Struggle

Preferential Option for Confrontation…

A pervasive part of our culture, our society, is the theme of confrontation. Confrontation and conflict, compulsionexploitation and coercion .

Conflict enters when the victims of compulsion reject what is happening and attempt to turn the tables on the exploiters usually without success. Without success because the oppressor is usually the heavy  hand of the state in all it’s myriad manifestations and incarnations, the uncivil servant, the pompous bureaucrat inflated with his or her own self importance and smug immunity from prosecution or accountability. As I wrote a couple of posts ago: The time will inevitably come  Hmmm …

Everywhere and every when … We choose to antagonize and confront instead of thinking first “how will this impact those around us?”.   But we don’t do we?  We just cruise along dropping bombs and strafing everything that responds.  It is pouring rain here again and thundering and lightening everywhere so that the thunder is almost continuous. Something real close got hit a couple of minutes ago but I guess it wasn’t our internet provider or our power so we are still up and running. We finally have our rain just a month too late to save the crops and if we get hail now it will wipe out everything that’s left. I wouldn’t be a farmer for anything.

Listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoVIVNidlZU.  Thinking about life out here. sipping a strong coffee. We have good days and bad but we soldier on and get it done.  The circus with getting my B-I-L onto a program for the handicapped continues. How do handicapped people without an advocate get help. The system is sure stacked against them even thought it allegedly exists only to help them. My thought is that it exists to provide work for the unemployable parasites who form the bulk of our population. If it was a business it would have gone tits-up early on. We are now on my M-I-L’s shit list because we declined to take her with us to the Badlands Passion Play, and the Royal Tyrrell Museum last weekend because we wanted to have an enjoyable weekend and with her along it would have been just another little bit of hell.

I am considering going over there at 3:00 AM tonight and dropping all her suitcases on the floor and telling her to get packed, she’s going to the airport. Not very charitable, eh? I guess I have a long way to go. It feels like one of those “on the bus, or under it” times. I miss the old days when we were authorized to shoot the enemy. Just a thought …

Bad DayA Bad Day. Crash on Deck on HMCS Fraser, Eastlant deployment, 1972. No life like it.

We almost got run down by a Dutch AOR, the HNLMS Zuiderkruis,  one dark night on that exercise. Or maybe that was in 75 … it all kinda blurs together these days. It was 40 years ago after all.HNLMS_Zuiderkruis_A_832

We were close enough to see the welds on her hull plating. Close call that, If the OOW wasn’t a fast thinker she would have sunk us and sent all 150 of us to the bottom, and maybe herself as well in the resultant firestorm of exploding Jet-B and munitions.  I wonder if it would have even made the front page? All classified don’tcha know.

Now wouldn’t that have been fun. If the collision didn’t kill us, trying to swim home from the eastern North Atlantic probably would have. Kinda cold out there and not many cabs.

I often use the above images to remind me of what a Bad Day REALLY is all about.  Not the wimpy little crisis we usually see that turn everyone into whining wingers, and wouldn’t even happen if folks were less confrontational and more charitable.  Maybe I am getting old … old sailors never die and all that, but I do get tired of the hammerheads occasionally.

Even though I weary of the struggle at times, and sometimes get discouraged, things are really pretty good here for all of us, all things considered, even the fact that I made it to 63 considering my high risk lifestyle is a blessing or perhaps even a miracle. I think I probably owe my guardian angel a few beer when I get to heaven, if they have beer in heaven and if angels drink. (and if I get to heaven).

Cheers

Joe

cdn-ddh-heavy-weather-8747.jpg Disclaimer for nitpickers … get stuffed, I do it on purpose to tick ya off.

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