How do we pass the time between the first cup of coffee in the morning and the last glass of wine at night?
We go about our daily life trying to suck out the most juicy morsels of happiness we can with a bit of thought that we need to stay fit and healthy for as long as we can.
Occasionally a spark of purity of thought occurs, squelched quickly by insistent emails and instagram and facebook friends sharing their last meal.
No time to purify anything because we are on overdrive to not miss the possibility of another moment of happiness.
And who dictates what it is to be?
Our advertisers forever on guard to catch the unsuspecting mind into acquiring yet more and better stuff; keep them longing for far away lands, for more love (really only sex) for who has time for love in our mad rush to be happy.
We glance at our iPhone every few minutes for a sign that we are on the right track and will soon be rewarded.
What track?
Fast track to no man’s land, the land of machine bothood, programmed by the needy rich with gaping holes for mouths.
And we allow ourselves to believe the next dress, car, barbecue or trip will matter, will make our existence meaningful.
And we walk by the homeless, shot children, the hungry while some gorge.
All the while hoping that machines will set us free, immune to impinging artificial waves on our brains. Willing to trade our dying souls for material comfort.
For who has time for soul searching? Not even the lifestyle gurus that confuse aerobics with real meditation, the kind that purifies your mind and soul. They feel high and think that is soul.
But alas soul requires heart, tears and gnashing of teeth when confronted with present day reality, a delving into the deep gut wrenching abyss of mortification and not a quest for perfection.
We go about our daily life trying to suck out the most juicy morsels of happiness we can with a bit of thought that we need to stay fit and healthy for as long as we can.
Occasionally a spark of purity of thought occurs, squelched quickly by insistent emails and instagram and facebook friends sharing their last meal.
No time to purify anything because we are on overdrive to not miss the possibility of another moment of happiness.
And who dictates what it is to be?
Our advertisers forever on guard to catch the unsuspecting mind into acquiring yet more and better stuff; keep them longing for far away lands, for more love (really only sex) for who has time for love in our mad rush to be happy.
We glance at our iPhone every few minutes for a sign that we are on the right track and will soon be rewarded.
What track?
Fast track to no man’s land, the land of machine bothood, programmed by the needy rich with gaping holes for mouths.
And we allow ourselves to believe the next dress, car, barbecue or trip will matter, will make our existence meaningful.
And we walk by the homeless, shot children, the hungry while some gorge.
All the while hoping that machines will set us free, immune to impinging artificial waves on our brains. Willing to trade our dying souls for material comfort.
For who has time for soul searching? Not even the lifestyle gurus that confuse aerobics with real meditation, the kind that purifies your mind and soul. They feel high and think that is soul.
But alas soul requires heart, tears and gnashing of teeth when confronted with present day reality, a delving into the deep gut wrenching abyss of mortification and not a quest for perfection.
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