Don’t get caught up in the greed of fear

 

Abducted by fears, panics and terrors, according to the latest news, human globalization is shaking; and what seemed to be a distant hypothesis of the sixth extinction, is becoming increasingly pompous, and more surprising.

And it doesn't matter that... –it is actually sought, right?- that the coexistence, experiences, developments and so on, deteriorate. What's more, there are planned –as far as we can see- turns of the screw.

Yes. That is, if such and such pressures, prohibitions, laws, rules, behaviours... are not enough, there are even more.

When it seemed -"it seemed"- that, despite so much regret, some people felt... –some people!- felt like projecting, doing or aspiring "to", the globalizing teams quickly gave one more little turn of the screw. Yes. In Spain, we're told that there really aren't 56,000 infected, no. They've miscounted. There are 500,000.

.- You've miscounted... Such a gap right? Such a disparity so...! 50,000 to 500,000!

.- Yes. It's just that journalists don't handle math well.

.- Ah! They must have counted me too, didn’t they?

.- Yes, yes! Of course, of course!... Because I don't know if you know, of course, that... looking at it closely, 50,000 or 500,000 it doesn’t matter? 

.- Well, the truth is that it does matter!

.- But this is the same as thinking that it is summer, when in fact it is Christmas. It's Christmas and... and it's the same distance as 50,000 to 500,000.

.- Ah, but... 

.- It's cold... The weather forecast everywhere is that it is going to snow, that... I don't know, it is going to hail; if it's not today it will be tomorrow, and if not on Monday, otherwise... For Christmas! 

.- Ah... So, the summer...

.- No! That was a vulgarity: summer! How nice is winter, that forces you to be at home. The slogan already said it: "Come back home for Christmas". 

It's obvious that, in these situations, you have to resort to prayer, to novena, to the eighth... 

Although, if we pay attention, not as much as expected. Instead of using the temple to go to prayer, the temple is used to go to sleep, to get admitted, to get intubated or to... just to get locked up.

Even... -to contemplate it even better- even the Church, in its pomp of the Papacy and the shining Vatican, tells us -in Francisco’s words, alias Bergoglio-... tells us that "God always forgives. Man forgives "sometimes" -sometimes-. Nature never forgives"   -about these globalized discomforts that are happening.

As we can see, we have made a Burger, a hamburger, a Mac Muc, according to which, the sandwich is formed by two structures: God on one side, nature on the other, and in the middle is the ham. In other words -I mean- the human being.

One forgives everything, the other forgives nothing, and the other -poof!- forgives sometimes.

It is easy to deduce from this that Nature is taking revenge for the offenses that… -here we can use the word “always”- man has “always” committed against it. And it said: "Enough! From 50 we go to 500,000. Don’t say another word”.

 

It is curious to contemplate how believers, religions, have even lost their minimal sense of seclusion, of encouragement, other than the material one, severe and practical. Obviously, God does not fit anywhere.

Once the enemy has been identified, all we have to do is destroy it. 

Art... –was it called that?- "the art of war" is back in fashion. 

And of course, in war, elderly people and children don't count; and women, sewing. That's how it used to be, right? And it seems that it's back now too.

Of course, the liberties... –Oh!, what were they like before?-, no. In war there can be no freedoms. Otherwise, how are we going to build an army? The army is based on orders, obedience and the ability for violent attack.

Since the enemy is invisible –under normal conditions, right?- but it lives in bodies, the best thing to do is to attack the bodies, and that way we finish off the enemy. Man! As collateral damage we also finish off the body, but, come on, it's not that... psst!...

It's somehow between funny and dramatic. Between believable and unbelievable. And the Prayer Sense leads us to a state of contemplating the unusual violence that has been reached, by a strange consensus, to domesticate even more, to dominate even more, to control even more and... finally achieving a profitable slavery.

The so-called "sacred" texts said: "And in the beginning, God created heaven and earth". 

And how is it that He forgives everything, and the earth forgives nothing? Such a transcription! It's a leap as big as 50,000 to 500,000. 

And in that proposal to another perspective, the Prayer Sense warns us not to get caught up in the greed of fear.

If we feel ourselves as universes; if we ally ourselves with the clouds; if we breathe with the breaths; if we become dawn, to be born and doing at every attempt; if we know that... –and as believers involved in that Creative Mystery- if we know that the day and the time do not belong to us; if we feel Piety, and from it and with it, Mercy, there will be no reason for fear contagion; there will be no fear of escape, nor prejudice of closeness.

The agony of fear is frightening. It does not correspond to the greenery of spring, the transparency of dawn or the wonder of dusk. 

Perhaps... perhaps it was the envy of the human being, seeing that he was not capable of creating a brilliant universe! And as a result, some of them set out to conquer human universes... that could be deceived, lied to, concealed to.

And so -probably as a factor- that animosity was brewing within the species. And consequently, the desire to dominate the whole environment.

Except for circumstances, occasions and beings, assuming a theoretically secondary role in Creation had no place in the sapience of the being. He tried by all means, interpreting scriptures, messages, revelations... to name and pro-name himself the centre of Creation. But without much difficulty he realized that, when he was not there, Creation continued, the greenness of spring was enlarged, the song of the birds was exacerbated.

Oh!... The Creator's silence cries out from his autisms. And the being of humanity is filled with his howls, his protests, his complaints. There is... there is no lapse of contemplation. The approach is made as an outcome.

More war.

Mercy contemplates miseries. It calls for concord. It whispers to poetry to establish a link, in the Creator, that dilutes and leaves miseries so that they are reconverted.

And in that 'misericord', the being abandons itself. Because he knows neither the time nor the date. Because the Only One who can determine it... in his mansion... not far away, close, here, and at the same time enveloping infinite, does not consider time. He decides in each moment.

Oh! In that merciful piety, there is no room for fear’s stalk, for secret hiding, for a pious lie. There is only room for giving, for disposition, for an attitude of availability, for perceiving Providence... that constantly speaks from the silence of events, from coincidences, surprises, lucks.

Oh! To unfold our nature, as an expression of the Universe, not as a possessive expression of my being, my character, my way... 

Nothing belongs to me! Why should I claim it? 

Rather, by feeling loved, and replicating in that frequency, Piety will be my steps. Mercy will be my purification. The casual silence!... will be the fusion with the rejoicing of creation.

In the face of the globalising kidnapping, protected by pressing fear, the Call to Prayer calls us for our universal consciousness, our consciousness of verse, of seeing ourselves as lovers, of feeling loved!... and to correspond in this disposition of sensitive needs.

And even in the worst conditions, knowing that we are heirs of Heaven, to know that we are heirs of the Universe.

The prayer presence in each position will give us that opinion, that calmness, that enthusiasm!, that capacity to regenerate ourselves. Because we are created every dawn. Because we are made after sleep, and we are 'made opportune’ again and again.

Oh! Feeling without reason. Feelings without opinions. "Feelings" without... sins. 

Emotions in the wind, without parapets, without obstacles... 

Clean...

***

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