Saturday, October 8, 2011

Revolution


Of revolution I do speak. Protests, politics, and war are outward symptoms of inner conflict, as sure as the seasons. Everything I write is a call to revolution — that defining moment when one decides not to change the world, but himself. As long as we are blind to the connection between what is going on in the world and the way we live our daily lives, we are doomed to fail. Without this understanding, taking to the streets is dangerously akin to the thrill of organized athletics or religion: the moment we return home and our adrenalin subsides, we are alone again with our fears, our hatreds, and our doubts. What good are our protests, what possible meaning can they have, when we dominate our children and those we claim to love? What good are our votes, when we are dishonest in our day-to-day business dealings? If we are not responsible for our actions, why should we expect anything different from our so-called leaders? We are the society and world we have made. Each starving child starves in our lives and in our minds. Every bullet fired, we have fired. Every book burned, every inquisition, every raped woman, child, and forest — surely we must see. And oh, how I love the autumn — this colorful leaf I am, soon to die, soon to be swept aside, even as the browned fiber of me yearns for the next life, and the next, and the next, eloquent food for worms.


14 comments:

Old 333 said...

'eloquent food for worms' - and excellent food for thought. Thanks for this, William.

Theanne and Baron said...

Marvelously put!

Stickup Artist said...

This is beautiful William. I hope it is read far and wide as it deserves. Yes, thank you for this...

-K- said...

Wow....This is going to change my day, actually it *has* changed my day.

And thats why I'm sharing it on Facebook, if you don't mind.

Transcend Designs said...

here here

: )

Joseph Hutchison said...

This looks like prose but it's pure poetry. I have that on the authority of the top of my head, which sailed off into the windy Colorado sky when I read this....

rahina q.h. said...

William i rad this somewhere recently, an interview with a psychoanalyst talking about artists, writers etc:
when we're being creative the lonely parts of ourselves come out for air and join us. The main process by which we become whole is to bring the (inner) orphans out of the orphanage, and the (inner) prisoners out of the prison. This is the way authentic, creative work makes us whole.

why did i put that here? well firstly i agree with everything you say about our societies and secondly that your contribution disintegrates hypocrisy and bullets and so... you live on through your work, bringing awareness in others by beginning with yourself.

William Michaelian said...

I appreciate it, Peter, thank you.

Thank you, too, Theanne.

Stickup Artist, I don’t know, really, what it deserves, but as to “far and wide,” time will tell. Thanks for your kind words.

Change is the key word, Kevin. Thanks for passing this along. So far, as best as I can tell, this entry has been shared nearly forty times on Facebook.

Thanks, Brad! I’m glad you could attend this meeting.....

Joe, I’m pleased this strikes you that way. Now, have another hit — of fresh air.

Rahina, what you say about orphans and prisoners makes good sense. I do feel whole when I write, and that’s when my best learning seems to be done. Or maybe it feels that way because I enjoy it so much. And yet, I think we can live a whole, creative life, and be creatively engaged while we’re cooking and cleaning and doing whatever we do to make ends meet. Every situation gives us the chance to listen and observe, and to observe ourselves.

As for bringing awareness, that simply isn’t for me to say. I just want what I write and say to be true. Line by line and word for word, if it doesn’t feel right and ring true to me, I strike it out or simply begin again. That, too, is part of the learning process.

Thank you.

Geckostone said...

I wish I could write as eloquently as all of you here to express the profound impact this post has had on me. But all I can think of to say is that it brought tears to my eyes, as most of your posts have, William. My friend Loretta in Hawaii always told me though, that when we cry it is because we have heard the Truth! Deb

William Michaelian said...

Deb, that’s such a lovely thought. Thank you. And the way you’ve expressed yourself is more than eloquent — it’s genuine and down to earth, as each of these responses have been. We know by instinct what is true. It doesn’t matter who says it, as long as someone does.

Stream Source said...

"You and I have spoken all these words, but as for the way we have to go, words are no preparation. There is no getting ready, other than grace.

My faults have stayed hidden. One might call that a preparation!

I have one small drop of knowing in my soul. Let it dissolve in your ocean.

There are so many threats to it. Inside each of us, there's continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water.

A crow sits in the blackened limbs and talks about what's gone. Then your generosity returns: spring, moisture, intelligence, the scent of hyacinth and rose and cypress.

Joseph is back! And if you don't feel in yourself the freshness of Joseph, be Jacob!

Weep and then smile. Don't pretend to know something you haven't experienced. There's a necessary dying, and then Jesus is breathing again.

Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are. You've been stony for too many years.

Try something different. Surrender." ~ Rumi

William Michaelian said...

To which I will add Yes. Thank you, Donna.

erin said...

We are the society and world we have made. both terror and hope lie in this same line.

if we could admit our transience, our smallness, our connectivity, then we would improve? oh, it would be a start, some humility.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

Billions of people... each waiting for someone else to go first.