You CAN'T be Serious

I keep wanting to write lighter fare, but apparently, being a sentient human means that there is a good chance that I may discover hard bits now and then.

Damn it.

Recently, I watched a Netflix doc called, 10 Questions for the Dalai Llama. I was keen on it because I've been changing off parts of my pacing/writhing practice for meditation. I'm an Olympic level pacer/writher, confident enough to take on any challengers, but in the effort to not disengage completely from my fragile, crumbling mind, I have discovered that shutting up, settling down and being still–meditating, is neato, and also, more neato. I am curious about anything to do with meditation and the accompanying striving to not be a jerk, so was excited to find this short glimpse into Tibet and the ideals of the Dalai Llama. The lead-up to the actual interview was supported with impressive visuals and a taste of the troubled and complex Tibetan history. I found the Dalai himself to be compelling. I personally don't know anyone walking upright who would say otherwise. What upset me very much, more than I was ready for, was the story of the Panchen Llama.

In 1995, the Dalai Llama chose a six-year old boy to be the next Panchen Llama, the most important position in Tibetan Buddhism next to the Dalai. This Panchen Llama would be raised and trained so that, eventually, he would be able to take on the honourable and difficult task of discovering the next Dalai Llama, a successor to the present one. You can imagine how big a deal this is for the Tibetan people and Buddhists around the world. Cue the Chinese government, already well along into ruining everything. The government kid-knapped the boy and put him and his family under house arrest. Then, as if nobody in the world would notice, they chose their own Panchen, in an effort to, of course, make it easier for them to brutally control the peaceful Tibetans and complete the takeover of Tibet for China.

The night after watching the 10 Questions, I woke up several times with this terrible, panicked feeling in my stomach. It was beyond me how grown men could undertake such a juvenile, reprehensible act like kid-knapping the Dalai's choice for Panchen as well as continually behaving heinously towards people of the most peaceful religion, and still face the rest of the world like nothing was wrong. 

That partly explained my waking up, but I think there was more to it. I think there was/is a load-bearing problem.

I feel as if every cell in my body is tired of this kind of power-hungry fuckery. There seems to be meanness seeping up through the very ground, floating through the breeze. All of the major countries are full of it, lead by it. Governments everywhere seem to have percentages of their members having it for breakfast; Men with Guns taking and threatening.

Yes, I guess this kind of thuggery has been going on ever since one Neanderthal had a stick that the other one coveted. I know, I know, it's complicated  you say. "It's based on economics." Yes, I know you're going to lecture me on socio-economic-haberdashery theory as it pertains to the number to dickweeds per capita if the rainy season comes soon enough. You can always explain that it's inevitable and there's nothing we can do. Well, damn it, damn it, damn it, because I really like this planet. I'm fond of it like you wouldn't believe, haberdashery theory or NO haberdashery theory. I just can't bear all of this meanness. I feel it. Yes, I'm one of those sensitive types who picks it up on her radar. I do, and it hurts. It would be nice if, somehow, the universe got it to stop, I mean to be having to have this discussion about the NRA is unbelievable! 

I really would rather compose the lighter fare I mentioned earlier, but I don't see that happening unless I find a unique ability to ignore the world. But then I would be complicit. I guess I'll keep meditating and working at it. Let me know if you have an answer.