Imagine

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
Maybe some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one.

John Lennon
Imagine (#3).



The song's central theme was inspired by Cloud Piece, a three-line instructional poem that appeared in Yoko Ono's 1964 book Grapefruit. The words were reproduced on the back cover of the Imagine album.[5]

In a 1980 interview with David Sheff for Playboy magazine, Lennon remarks on the message of "Imagine":

Sheff: On a new album, you close with "Hard Times Are Over (For a While)". Why?

Lennon: It's not a new message: "Give Peace a Chance"—we're not being unreasonable. Just saying "give it a chance." With "Imagine" we're asking, "can you imagine a world without countries or religions?" It's the same message over and over. And it's positive.[6]

Ono indicated that the lyrical content of "Imagine" was "just what John believed—that we are all one country, one world, one people. He wanted to get that idea out."[4]

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imagine_(song)

Christ of St John of the Cross

I had a 'cosmic dream' in which I saw this image in colour and which in my dream represented the 'nucleus of the atom.' This nucleus later took on a metaphysical sense; I considered it 'the very unity of the universe,' the Christ. -Salvador Dali 1950. I was driving into work the other day (listening to Abbey Road on my car stereo) and at the stop light... just over the hill from the exit ramp... I pulled over next to a guy standing on the side of the road. He was a middle aged white man with a few days of razor-stubble.  He had short...matted.. hair.  (blonde).  And his clothes were dirty.. with a foul smell. He was reddened from the sun.... (and I'm pretty sure he was drunk). But as I pulled close... with that instant of inspiration that comes on artists just before genius... in the canvas of my mind... I turned him into Jesus.   I didn't turn him like a magician does a frog.  Instead.... I was seeing a homeless dude with a ridiculous foul smell.... But also... I was seeing Jesus. Not the long haired type in the classic paintings....           But for visuals sake... I kept the man as he was.  Matted hair.  A bottle in his hand.  A dazed look on his face.       The truth is... I tend to see Jesus in some weird places.  Sometimes (like a Buddhist might) I see him in the earth... the Rocks and the trees.  Blowing gently in the wind.  Laying low.... or at the center of it all.... holding it together... (Colossians 1:17).  But like the homeless man... it all remains as it is.  Rocks.  Dust.  Molecules.  Quantum Particles.  Jesus. Surreal is a good way to describe my Jesus experiences.  It's like my most recent purchased piece of art... a take off on a Dali painting... (by Erin Whitson).. It's a Classic Jesus with a twist... Surreal with an altered perspective between the top half and the bottom. The bottom piece?... a wooded scene... at dusk?  (Or Dawn).. under a blackened metallic-blue sky. And the top half?  A hovering ghostly white Christ..... Crucified and skewed in such a way that we see him from overhead...   A Crucified Jesus.... stretched out mystically over orange fields and darkened skies.  And our view is from above as if we were looking down from heaven. I like the classic Jesus.  But I don't need him to be of the traditional type.  In fact... I'm reminded that the classic Jesus is primarily an invention of white European culture.  In reality.. Jesus would have looked a lot more like Osama Bin Laden than he does in most Italian Renaissance paintings. But some of my favorite Jesus images don't come from artistic renderings.  Some of my favorite Jesus images come from looking at other people... All kinds of people. I see him in artists a lot.  I can see him in John Lennon as much as Christ of St John of the Cross. I see him in gay friends.... and strangers... and women I know... But I don't always see him in places you might expect like the religious minded.       (He said that that would be so. that many who thought they knew him would find that they didn't after all).       On the road.. as I pulled over the hill I saw the homeless dude and I knew what I would do.  And I got excited.  (one of the many reasons I can't do conservative politics is that Conservatives don't get excited when they see homeless people).  I got so excited that I swerved up onto the curb he was standing on... (in the distance) and corrected myself in order to keep from running down the King of Kings and Lord of Hosts.   And when I approached him I handed out 3 protein bars through my car door window.  (an idea from a preacher friend I know)....One for the Father.... and one for himself.... and perhaps a third for the Holy Ghost. And as I prepared to drive away Jesus gave me the double chest thump with the two finger salute like Sammy Sosa (minus the kiss). I can only assume he meant "thank you".... And I was overwhelmed by the gesture and his reception of my gifts.  And then with much praise and rejoicing like something from Handel... I joyfully drove away.

Truth is Truth

That which you forgive others.. will also be forgiven you.
-Jesus

In the end... the love you take... is equal to the love you make.  
-John Lennon. 

Julia (part I)

I started reading the book "Catcher in the Rye" a few years ago.  It's about a young dude (Holden Caufield) who eventually goes crazy.  But before he ends up in the looney bin, he decides to leave his life......  Check out...

Basically he just gets up and walks out.

Its a Great read...  A classic...  Also a little creepy.  Not the story itself but the fact that at least 3 different people (Rebecca Schaeffer...Ronald Reagan... John Lennon) have either been shot or killed by men (crazies) who say that they were reading the book while they were stalking their chosen celebrity.

The book, itself, has nothing to do with killing or murder.

("rational"..... Is not how crazy does things).

But that's the problem with crazy.  It's chaos (in the brain) causing chaos in (real life).  It's like a conversation I was having with a friend from work (her name is Julia).  

I remember we were sitting in the break room.  The television was on, and the crazies were yelling at me from down the hall.  There was a window across the room with a view of the park (and the psych hospital..... Parkside), and Julia was sitting quietly eating a whole-wheat muffin. 

The Today Show was running a story on Anne Rice who had evidently just developed a faith in God (or reignited an old faith.. -formerly catholic...).  And I was waiting for my lunch to be interrupted by some kind of chaos... or by one of my crazies walking down the hall naked (happens all the time).... when suddenly Julia looked at me and said..  I don't believe in God....  And she added.... And what's the deal with Santa Clause?

I have to admit that for a second I thought I was hearing the random thoughts in her head...... like maybe I was a mind reader..

But then she asked me if I had heard what she said, and with a mouth full of food, as I looked at her, I just nodded for her to continue talking (which I totally knew she wanted to do.... proof Im a mind reader) and she continued to talk.

I don't understand why any one would let their children believe in Santa Clause and God both, she said.  It's a lie.  If Santa's not real.... maybe God's not real.

Julia was a science girl...  She was a nurse... A good nurse..  But between the two themes most common in nursing (pastor/scientist)... Julia leaned heavily towards science.  In fact she liked all the sciences... Chemistry... Physics... Biology...

I wanted to respond to Julia but everything I thought of sounded like Forrest Gump...

I believe in Jesus.. Lieutenant Dan...

so I just asked her the first question that popped into my mind.  

Why don't you believe in God? I asked....

God's not really all that accessible is he?  She asked.  If there were a God.... Don't you think he would be a little easier to spot??? There's too much chaos in the universe, anyway...  randomness.  She said.  She was talking about physics. quantum particles... and stuff.  There were sounds coming from the hallway.  Shrieks.

How could there be a God with so much chaos?

I was about to speak when a call came from over head.

Jamie...  One of your patients needs you in the hall.

When I stepped out of the break room, I saw my patient.  A small grey wrinkled woman, saggy and deranged... heading quantum like down the hall towards us......... all wild eyed and naked.

As I walked towards her... I started trying to "sugar-talk" her back to her room....
(prepared to pick her up and carry her if necessary).

After securing her in bed...... (Posey vest)..... I returned to the break room.. But Julia was already gone....
No where to be found.

So I just sat down with my sandwhich, and began looking out the window with a view of the park (and Parkside)..... I was thinking about what it would be like to check out of my life like Holden Caufield from Catcher in the Rye.  But then Julia walked back in the room, sat down...... and then she asked me a question......

How bout you? She said.  Do you believe in God?

I thought about it for a long time before I spoke.  The answer to that question wasn't as easy as it once was.  And after a few seconds (that felt more like minutes), I looked at Julia and then I began to speak......

The Existential Blues

One of the freaky mysteries of life is that given all the physical and psychological limitations that people have....

(.....hormones.... DNA and genetics... conditioning.... etc.)

people also have the ability to resist the expected responses of life.... to break away from the norm... swim upstream... and make a choice.

Freedom.

I found out recently that Martin Luther King Jr.'s most famous speech (maybe one of the most famous speeches in world history) was something of an ad-lib.  If you were to find the notes that MLK was using for his speech that day, you would not find the words "I have a dream" written anywhere on the manuscript.  While he had used segments of the speech at different times prior in his life, the speech as it was spoken was entirely made up on the spur of the moment... An impulse, and then an addendum to the close of the speech that he was already giving that day.

I've often wondered...... what if MLK had been preoccupied that day???  What if he went into the speech with a mind full of crap??  Thoughts???  Worries??   Fears about the future!!!

Would he have felt the impulse?  Would he have listened to it?  Acted on it?  

I'm finding that most of the important things in my life happen when I respond to the impulse.  But instead, usually I find myself trapped by my fears of things... or my constant dissatisfaction with life.... always craving what's next.

John Lennon said "life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans", and as an example of that, when my father used to visit (before his passing) all he could do was talk about his upcoming visit.  But 10 minutes after his arrival, instead of talking and enjoying himself he was already talking about his plans for his next visit....

As I sit here writing, and watching television (and commercials...) I'm also worried about work tomorrow..... and I'm angry about how I got screwed over the other day....  And I'm thinking about what it would be like to be an Iron Chef for a living....  And I'm hungry for cheese...... (What if during his speech, MLK was thinking about cheese?)  

And despite all the things that fight for my attention, I wonder sometimes what my life would be if I could stay fully engaged; awake and aware of my immediate surroundings.  What would it take for me to be fully present to my son as I play the Wii with him...???  Kicking the ball around in the backyard with my daughter??

MLK changed the world.  What if in the course of my daily life I felt the impulse... "Heard the voice"... and then responded with an action that transcended everything that was expected of me.

The deal is that as much as I feel the pressure to be as I've been conditioned....  As much as I try to stretch myself.... worry about (or crave) the future..... dwell on the past....   all I've really got are the things that are here in front of me...... right here.... and right now...

Im starting to believe that in the end.... the only way to break free of all of life's limitations is to live every moment completely aware of the choice I have in front of me.  Who we are, and who we will become can only happen in the choices that we make right now.

The Rational Blues

There was a lady circling the desk (a patient) and she was saying random non sense words, asking questions about the number 9, with an occasional comment about Satan, and the end of the world..... (just in case you weren't already freaked out).  And  every time she passed me, I tried not to look at her.      

As I was getting the medications ready for my next patient, my I-phone was playing a song.  It was a Beatles song from my new cirque-LOVE cd (the Beatles remixed... But not jacked up) and while I was getting my meds together, I was thinking about John Lennon and how he had said once (as a response to the blues of life), "all you need is love".  

*(of course he also said he was the walrus......  which I never got, but I totally think the crazies would understand).              

John Lennon would have made a great blues man cause all blues men know about love.  But given the crap that comes with loving people that don't love you, the question I would've asked John Lennon (were he still living) would be, how do you know, all you need is love?  Cause (from a 7 Tower perspective at least) sometimes I think all you need is Haldol (antipsychotic medication).      

In fact, if life is a debate between whether the world is insane or sound, it's the crazies these days that are winning hands down as far as I can tell.

I have an uncle who thinks he's the opposite of all that (crazy).  He's a modern man.  He only believes in science, thinks technology is the answer to most problems in life.  He scoffs at traditional cultural concepts of the supernatural as superstition... (Not just the "big five" religions.....All of them....  Old Pagan.... New Pagan..... Asian.... African..... Native American......).  But he loves science fiction (may speak Klingon).  He's reasonable and rational and skeptical of anything outside of what he can see or hear.  He believes the universe is a closed box of cosmic dust and that people are not much more than a few brain cells and sex organs and hormones (to keep it all going).

He believes that he came from nothing and that he's going to nothing and that in the end there's nothing more out there than a very lonely compact atom sized dot that the entire universe will eventually collapse back into.  But still, every day he stands in the sandwich line at work and gets pissed off when the administrative staff casually cut themselves toward the front of the line, as if anything that happens in this world, good, bad, just or unjust, should finally matter in the end, at all.

(Now that's crazy).

Living life seeing things that aren't really there (Justice, Meaning, LOVE) is the definition of crazy.  Right?  And yet, deep inside us we all "gotta feeling" (another Beatles song) that all these things are true.  (is that irrational?).  The problem is that with all the (alleged) evidence to the contrary, we think this life matters.  That it has meaning.  That maybe after all.... All you need is Love.  And either that's true, and we're all living our lives unwilling and detached from something bigger, like some dying leaf on a breeze.  Or we're just terribly arrogant.  (and crazy).  And I'm willing to believe that a little of all three are true.  And in the end, you just cant deny the truth.

(*  Charlie Dixon once said the blues is the truth.  And John Lee Hooker said to; "Let that boy boogie woogie..... cause it's in him..... and it got to come out".).

I picked up my medications to go to my next room but as I stepped into the hall the crazy lady made her way past me with her back bent, head down like a chicken, talking out of her head.  I let her make her way past me without eye contact.  But this time she looked more familiar to me.  Maybe like every single crazy blues man that I'd ever seen.