prayer in progress

There is no santa claus. There is winter. The sun doesn’t shine much, and the wind grows cold. Plants loose their green while animals spend more time in sleep. Death is at its greediest, taking the old and weak. We strengthening our community by feasting together. We exchange gifts so we can have totems of the bonds between us . This instinct to survive the cold we dress up in a red suit and white beard

There is no jesus. There is social order that collapses. Laws that no longer ensure security. Social codes that no longer lead to Dignity. In this chaos there are those as there have always been, who unveil civility and exposes all its tricks. Those that have not had their humanity bleed out of them. Those that can cultivate the spark of love in other will be persecuted by those who attempt to maintain existing social order.

There is no satan. There is corruption in all our institutions, that need to be desecrated and mocked. There is irrational fear that needs to be expelled, There are inner demons that need acceptance. So as we piss and hiss at the world's hypocrisy, we acknowledge our own demons..

There is no buddha.There is privilege which blinds us to the world's miseries . There is protection which enables us assuage any pain . There is acceptance in accepting this. There is inner wisdom that grows out worldly confusion.

There is no shiva. There is infinite interactions continually happening. Chemicals dancing with chemicals. Ideas dancing with each other. Planets swinging around stars, falling through galaxies. People exchanging ideas through chemistry whirling through space and time. Feminine and masculine twisting violently and lovingly around each other. As we melt into astomment witnessing our on going self creation, we clumsily attempt to embody the world through dance.

There is no yahwah . There is what cannot be captured through language, which runs through all cultures. Once named this wisdom hemorrhages all its truth and leave behind only the carcass of dogma, So we become receptacle of the word.

There is no tao. There are inherited biological wisdom that we all inherit. We do not understand what the nature of this wisdom is although we can strive to attune our sensitivities so we may walk closer to our path. We can recognize our essence have been in the state of becoming for billions of years and we are the tangible micro end of an unbreakable artistry that has receded into a forgotten realm

There is no science. There are popular interpretations of common perception of phenomenons that we will never comprehend . There are our bias. There is a need for narrative despite the discard for god. So we simplify the universe to mental models that are tiny enough to fit in our brain.

There is no you or me. There are incomplete memories of what happened, woven into memories of what did not happen. There are justifications of limitations entwined in these memories.. There are shared ideas which blur the line between you and me. There is growth and there is death.

Now let us go back to sleep, and share our dreams with each other ….