It has always been there before us. We just never paid attention to it. Or if we did, it was of very brief duration. We did the same with all other categories of the creative arts. We gazed at a painting. Felt something move within our hearts. And then someone asked, "where are we going to eat?" and the movement stilled. Never to return. Or we read a book. Thought about it, recommended it. And then over time, as we did nothing else with it, it too faded away into the memories of the past.
We even intruded upon the blessings of the physical world. We spoke of hiking, going to see some famous site. We boasted of going to odd places. Like the Galapagos. Into the beauty to be found in the Denali area. Or the vast awesome high deserts of Arizona. And the thunderous silence of the Joshua trees. But when we were there, all we did was exclaim about it briefly and then onto the important part of the trip. The busy work.
Instead of admiring the natural beauty, the gift we have been given, we all go in a different direction. Selfies. The same pose. The same background. And then, after we admire ourselves, we then engage in whining. It is either too hot or too cold. When can the pool be accessed? What about playing my phone games or calling a friend to say where we are? Or far more important, one needs a drink and a visit to the facilities. Barely, after the first remarks do we hear more of the beauty just observed.
In one opinion piece I read today, the article is concerned with a comparison of talking and listening and what happens when one shuts down, at least a bit. Do we instead gain more of an ability - and a desire - to better acclimate ourselves to other activities and knowledge? That which should be incoming rather than outgoing or lying dormant within our minds and hearts, leaving our souls uninspired and seeking.
Always searching for a more substantial basis of life and too often that search, in a desperate effort to find something, anything, we do not hear what we should and instead glom onto dangerous ideas, manifestly wrong. Hurt and damage ensue. Exactly the opposite of what we had been hoping for. In fact, it exposes us to more elements of danger. Oppositional to survival and wellbeing.
I believe this writer wants us to do more fine tuning. What we hear. What we allow into our stream of consciousness. Of what we allow to reach deep into our hearts and souls. Into our minds. To be able to distinguish and separate the wheat from the chaff. The good from the bad. The dangers from that which better ensures a more peaceful and productive life for humanity.
But we humans talk too much. We talk trash. We talk nonsense. And inside all of the trash, hidden and drowned out are other voices. These voices are calling for better people, for wiser and more compassionate humans, for a willingness to share and to truly know what is real, what is indeed essential for a life which we all should, must have. They call out to us, to excise that which can be dispensed with and delve deep within to find the jewels we are too often overlooking, living in a world too loud and too busy. Too difficult to do the winnowing necessary to insure a life of goodness for all.
In all the hectic business of life as humanity has too often lived it, we see jewels where there are none. We ignore the jewels, which are us, we, the people. However, we are too busy looking over at each other to see what that one has. What the other one has. If you are missing it. Sudden needs become deep wants and in the sating of those wants we discard too much of value.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
This is a chronic illness of mankind. If we do not listen. If we do not hear the voices calling out to us from without ourselves we will not hear them within ourselves; we will be the sorrier for it. What will be, and too often is already, are lessons, truths, to be heard, to be internalized.
From a folk song harking back to the antiwar themes of yesteryears, we must hear and feel its words and lessons. And warnings. Unfortunately, war is sometimes impossible to avoid. But at other times, with a great effort, it can be avoided. If we make ourselves clear. If we reach out to the other side. Teach them. Lead them to the truth. Push them to set aside their negativity in which they immure themselves. Help them to understand that some of their deepest feelings are based on a flawed basis, actually no basis other than lies and determination to deal harm to others.
We, you and I, are the jewels which are constantly getting lost in the shuffle. Our inner selves call out. But we did not hear that voice. And if we hear it, we do not heed it. We talk over it. Thus, we lose the connection to that which we should seek and hold dear and close. Bottom line? Read the lyrics to the song below. Feel them. Understand them. Sing along with them. And apply it to life as we know it. It's what we have to gain. And what we unfortunately have much to lose.
All in our hands.
It behooves us to listen well. To heed all the signs of a Lord greatly disappointed. Grieving for the wayward children of His below. He is sending us many warnings. Understand that.
Listen
children to a story
That was written long ago
About a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley folk below
On
the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath a stone
And the valley people swore
They'd have it for their very own.
Now the valley cried with anger
"Mount your horses, draw your sword"
And they killed the mountain people
So they won their just reward
Now they stood beside the treasure
On the mountain, dark and red
Turned the stone and looked beneath it
"Peace on earth" was all it said
So Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of Heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away.
So
the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill
Asking for the buried treasure
Tons of gold for which they'd kill
Came
an answer from the kingdom
With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain
All the riches buried there.
Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of Heaven
You can justify it in the end
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away