Discombobula

I'm dreaming this morning not of a white Christmas, but of a day when those who live at the broad bottom of the pyramid scheme of today's version of life are at the top of it. And of a day where those at the top who currently actually enjoy breathing the stultifying air of global capitalism that is making them insane and wreaking havoc on the world will be the ones who find it more difficult to breathe, because something new has come.

I can't shake that feeling that something new is coming. I don't know if it's pie-in-the-sky dreaming.

It seems to me that all the very, very best things that make life worth living - love, and beauty, and art, and visioning - are seen as side issues and peripheries in the current paradigm we live in. We can live believing that the way we live now is just simply how it has evolved. I do not believe it. I believe that the way we live now serves not us, but those at the top of the pyramid.

We are both more in chains but freer than we could possibly imagine. It makes you mourn to see the extent of your chains, but then, after that, it makes you more able to throw them off. They are invisible chains, and you must know they are there before you can begin imagining that the small hopes and fancies that seem childish and naive to have are actually the heartbursting centre of something else, another way to be. What seems almost too good to be true is perhaps just simply the tip of a rather large iceberg.

I envision a day when those peripheries of love, and beauty, and art, and visioning, and time and space and energy to do work in creative ways that buzzes with meaning, feels more than slog, is more than feeding the system ~ I envision a day when those things will be the centres.

That swells me 'eart.

So may it be.