In view of the usual consciousness, according to which, everybody is right and… -why not?- also the truth, the “confusion” -not in the sense of fusing oneself, but in the sense of confusing oneself amongst some criteria and others- is inevitable.
Yes. It could be said that we live in a continuous and permanent confusion.
Yes. It could be said that -of course- one person thinks about something, in “A”, and the other thinks, about the same thing, in “B”. Therefore… one becomes confused, the other one becomes confused, they become confused… Everybody becomes confused!
“You are confused”, one says to the other; and the other to one: “No, who is confused is you”.
What happens is that it seems that we are in full Tower of Babel activity, where everybody speaks differently -not the “language”, but in “speech”-. And everybody is so affiliated to his or her patterns, that whatever other pattern… is not worthy, is not to be valued, is not to be evaluated.
With the confusion a tangle is generated; with the tangle, the dispute; and… with it, the tension and the fleeing. Yes: the person flees from that which it does not control, dominate, manage… because of this state of consciousness that, when not permitted -in surroundings, in an ambient-, in some way, to impose its scheme, its protocol, well… one has to flee!
And like this, in thought, in word, in act or in action, the beings flee... And everybody classifies oneself and classifies everybody else.
Listening, comprehending, understanding… is still in the “obituary” of the resurrection.
The prayer advises us about these situations, so that attitudes are not camouflaged beneath certain signs that are not, but that are other motivations, intentions…
It is of “high standing” that the praying voice, the praying word, puts into evidence that which is given a treatment, and is another that is exercised. At least the praying believer, he who simply has intuition of another version apart from its own, should take care of its position, its attitude, and clarify it, clear it, before!... confusing, disturbing, fleeing, classifying, confusing…
Also beneath this epigraph, one has to be careful -and the praying sense warns this- of those experiences that are searched for in order to “be mistaken”. Yes! They are similar mechanisms to the sadomasochists: the person knows that they’re going to be mistaken or that they are making a mistake, but, nevertheless… be it to not give in, or be it to see what is that of being mistaken… -although it has already been seen many times, each mistake, “they say” always brings a lesson-.
Of course, each mistake brings a new ‘residue’ -heavy residues-. Each mistake brings -and one has to count on this- a certain…. mistrusting attitude.
A state of consciousness is created, in this bungled up process, in which to persevere in the error turns out to be the usual and, besides the decent, the promising.
Evidently, as the saying said – or the saying says-, “appearances trick”. Yes. One thing is what is seen…
But, is it so much like this…? So, if the appearances always trick, why do we have senses? What reason of being has the exercising of the senses, if what is perceived are appearances?
So the senses have to be educated… to what they perceive, to what is apparent, is a trick. And they have to perceive what has no sense:
-Can you give me your telephone number please?
-Yes. My telephone number is 5889876.
When a short time has passed, the person calls this telephone, and in this telephone answers Fulgencio Batista, who has resuscitated in Cuba to see the concert of the “Rolling Stones”, free.
No! At this rate, Cuba will end up being a new star of the State of the Union. Give it time!
And of course!, they call, and it is not the telephone. Time passes and they meet with the individual -who was not Fulgencio Batista, God rest his soul- and says:
-Hey, I called you and I got Cuba. You gave me a telephone number…
-It’s that I never give my real telephone number. I always give a fictitious telephone number. My real telephone number I have reserved for the royalty, for the intimacy of my testicles, my vulva or my vagina, or my clitoris.
-Ah! Shoot! Now it turns out to be stifling to ask what do I do to call you in these parts. Really, it turns out to be difficult to call you to these parts!
But this… is normal.
-Yes, yes. It is normal.
So, the appearance is of 5789860 –this is another one-, but the real is 9467890.
-No, but this last number I gave you, don’t call it in the morning, because there is my niece who answers, and if you say “loving vulva of mine”, well she’s going to be shocked.
-Then, can you tell me your bulbar telephone number -of the medullar oblongata of the hair follicle, or of whatever!-?
-No, look, better you don’t tell me anything!
I believe that all or almost all -I believe all!- remember this sound “Ahhhhhhh”, of a hoarse Tarzan, -hoarse Tarzan- be it Johnny Weissmuller or whoever of those who interpreted the famous monkey man-. That was an authentic telephone! That was a real address! That was true! It was not apparent, it was like that!
When he emitted this sound, the animals of the jungle responded to him, they answered him. And all of the world said: “There goes Tarzan”!.
All of this went well until Jane arrived, and it was discovered that ‘Cheetah’ was ‘Cheeto’. There they began to give false information, fictitious: “I am Cheetah, Cheetah”. He was ‘Cheeto’.
What disillusion! What disillusion!...
So we could stay with the jungle cry, right?, and… and okay! Okay! Well, tranquillity, certainty. He says: “This is Tarzan” –hoarse, without voice or… or well!-.
Yes. “The Tower of Babel” –it would be like this, more or less- it is with us and with our spirit. And everybody manages its information, its formation… and establishes its criteria, of course. For this we have a program that favours all of this: “Information, formation, opinion and generation of criteria”, right?: so that all can have their radical ghetto, existential and… acronym-anonymous.
The praying sense, also warns, that all of this process brings with it… the disdain. “Disdain”.
The disdain is this attitude of:
“Well!, It’s not so bad!”. “Well!, It’s not important!”.” Well!, Also you don’t have to give it so much importance!”. “Well!, but… one doesn’t have to get susceptible because a woman carries in her bag the head of a child, and shows it, in Moscow! I don’t know… She must be… she must be nervous. And, well!, a nervous person could cut the head off a child! It is a natural… thing! Also… also one doesn’t have to think anything!”.
-Ah, no? Ah! no… me… It’s that anciently it was thought that to cut off the head of someone was a little…
-No! the French brought this into fashion. Don’t you remember the guillotine? Since then, the ‘Jihadists’ have learnt -they took their time, eh?!, they took their time!-... But, because of the French colonialism, they have learnt, and now they dedicate to cutting throats in whatever place!, Okay? You understand me?
-This is to purify the species. You take a look at what the French Revolution gave with so many guillotines!: “liberty, equality, fraternity”… Marvellous! So, the others have learnt…
Slowly, of course. It wasn’t easy. Because it needs work. Well, at the beginning it’s difficult right? The first throat slitting always costs a little… until you are comfortable with the anatomy and that. But later, after, well…
-What a barbarity!
Yes. The disdain. The “anything goes”, the “it’s not important”… nor the tone, nor the attitude, nor the form, nor the manner, nor the clothes, nor the taste… Like he who said: “It doesn’t matter what you eat! Everything joins together in the stomach!”.
“The life of disdain”; that should be a residue of “Eden” -but very residual, eh?!-.
If we look at the vital phenomenon, of life in general, maybe we could come into agreement that it does not develop with disdain; although there are moments of resting recreation and… relaxation. Okay! But, the usual disdain towards whatever thing…?
Yes. Time has the blame.
Yes, time. Because, with time -right?-, what seemed grand and monstrous, well with time it seems small and lustrous.
And as also said the saying: “With time, everything is healed”…
-Ah!... Is it going to turn out, then, that time is allied with the disdain, with the appearance… and the permanent confusion?
Like this passes the poor -or the rich- time: undervaluing truths; moving away from… transparencies; cultivating opaqueness; hiding… intentions; creating consciousness without solution, without… the capacity of dissolving like the vapour in the air; incapable of seeing themselves… in the nakedness of the wind; only willing to put on make up, to paint oneself and to hide oneself behind the masks.
The Mystery of the Eternal Creator -the Eternal without time- does not invest its intention of generating, in promoting such textures. Rather it advises, and shows attitudes that… move away from the Creative, that move away from the clear!, that move away from the evident!, and hide in the worlds… hidden!..., beneath signs of independence and liberty.
Without doubt, like this, living becomes difficult.