Many of us who read these pages have given 7-10 days of our lives to swat bugs, shower in buckets, deprive ourselves of sleep, risk Lyme’s disease and bad cooking in the effort to create a space for our brothers and sisters who have felt the call to consciously interact with their vision. What that means to each of those we protect I haven’t the faintest notion. Nor do I imagine that I could discern the meaning of each one’s personal experience up to the Quest during the Quest or after the Quest. I’d bet there isn’t one among us who’d go out on a limb and interpret the vision of those we protect. Unless, perhaps, we’re trying to see if Malcolm would actually “run screaming into the woods” as he promises to do should he hear someone attempt such folly. I don’t know if he would do it or not. It doesn’t seem consistent with what I know of his medicine. But I am not he and therefore cannot truly know the totality of his medicine. Is he holding something back? Quite likely, I’d bet we all do. Some, like my daughter, are aware of holding things back. She is one of us who chooses to do so on purpose. It is part of her vision. Some of us, certainly myself included, have not yet directed our attention to certain areas of our vision and in a way hold things back from ourselves by labeling them or ignoring them. But again, this is part of our vision.
As I have cast my attention through reflection and contemplation onto my life one of the things revealed has been a definitive tendency to perceive danger quickly. Not only do I perceive it quickly and without effort I do so far ahead of the pack. There are others in front of me, of course. I can imagine incredible capacities not yet explored. Capabilities that appear to me as acts of magic now but in a lifetime or so will be normal.
For all the years of conscious exploration of my personal vision this tendency to sense danger has not left. As a child it kept me on my toes. Quick to ascertain whether or not I needed to avoid my father. Even in the brief amount of time it took him to open his car door and step out on the driveway as he returned from work. In college I watched with curiosity as it was labeled a wound by social science professors in their mad attempt to wrangle everything into a theory. When I travelled through Central America for years and later Polynesia it told me to move and avoid a knife, a drunk and a flying jibe among other things. Surely in this plane I could become separated from this ability. I can imagine having a stroke or Alzheimer’s and losing the ability to affect the physical with my will. But the expertise I have developed is not going to leave. Nor is it who I am. Nor was it created through the acts of my father. Honed I’ll give you, created I won’t.
The importance of this seems to be lost on most of the population of this country. People continue to believe that there is a destination and that there is a group of people closer to it than others. This confusion appears in those that speak in terms such as: “a greater good”, victimization and equalization among others. In simple terms is the belief that the few know better than the experience of the whole. And if you believe in wisdom, have spent any time contemplating your own experience and thus know yourself even a bit, I cannot imagine how you could subscribe to this belief.
So, when I hear a quest protector talk about the welcome relief a big government program will provide to them, it is then I want to run screaming into the woods. Not because they are expressing their vision, rather, because they are unaware of everyone else’s. The one size fits all aspect of big government runs contrary to the truth of personal vision. Period.
As I write this blog I hear on the distant edges of my attention a refrain from a song on a CD handed to me at a Primitive Skills Festival in Georgia 10 years ago. Written on the CD is the words Barebones and the name Rich Wells.
“Government drugs, government drugs sent by Uncle Sammy with all his love I got the cigarette smoke in my lungs a choking’ me. The whiskey I been drinkin’ left my breath stinkin’ and the coffee I been drinkin’ sure got me thinkin’ about my heart rate. Government drugs are great. But when you start talkin’ nickels and you start talkin’ dimes my mind gets so damn paralyzed ‘cause what can I say against your lies with your hands upon my purse. When I saw you comin’ you were screamin’ for blood. You said gimme back this country that I used to love. Got lots of people talkin’ doin’ illegal drugs and I don’t know which is worse. But try some Government drugs…government drugs…”
Well people…give me a call when the drugs wear off and I will put you back upon your feet. Seriously, give me a shout, I’d be happy to throw a bucket of water on your head. Or run screaming into the woods…whatever it takes.