Thursday, December 27, 2007
This picture is of the fashion district in downtown Los Angeles. I took the picture before I came over to the Transition House to utilize their computer lab.
I worked on the cover letter. Keep in mind that when I work on this cover letter, I am working on myself--organizing the mind and the the thoughts, developing a sound packaging presentation. I can describe it unless I "am it". Therefore I am working through some remaining cobwebs of baggage that can hold me back. It feels good to cut away at it.
After finishing today's session,(interesting label for it), I saw on Yahoo news where Benazir Bhutto was assassinated. It saddens me. I have followed her for over two decades. I felt she was a very courageous and compassionate woman.
If it is not one war, it is another war. Someone is killed in Pakistan today. Someone will be killed somewhere else tomorrow or in the near future. What does it take for us to live in peace in this world? What does it take for us to learn how to live side by side with each other and respect the viewpoint of the other?
I live in Skid Row. It is a place where I see anger manifest itself in ways I did not know existed. When you live down hear you appreciate the subtleties of peace- the blowing back and forth of a beautiful tree branch, or the chirping of a happy bird.
Violence screams at you when you are on Skid Row. It screams at you when a dealer whispers silently,"weed,weed" or 'cavi, cavi". He whispers so low that you can barely hear the words. The violence, however, is inherent in the request-the request, in a demanding sort of way, that you poison yourself with his goods. The request that you purchase the ingredients of a slow death. The rock that dulls your senses today will kill you tomorrow. The heroin that makes you nod on the street today will stop your heart tomorrow. Yes, the silence of violence is the discipline to study and understand on Skid Row. It is there lurking in the alleys. It is there standing on the busiest corner of the neighborhood. "cavi, cavi".
They stand there and request that you pay them to murder you. Interesting proposition, a deal that can be refused but many choose to dance with the devil even when they see the evidence of a tortuous existence every day.
Some may argue that the violence of a murder victim is different. I say it is not. In many ways, the dealer is guilty of a cruel punishment. They kill you every day. They kill the spirit within a person. They kill the will to fight and live. I know.
You can be a real estate broker as was I. You could make money. You can work out everyday and yet you are dying inside, the spirit is weakening as each day goes by.
I pray for the family of Benazir Bhutto. I pray for us all.
We will hear the analysis of political commentators from around the world. They will discuss the ramifications and repercussions spread throughout the region and the world.
However, no one will talk of the collective world spirit dying. No one will talk about the bleeding of our collective souls. No one will discuss how the level of murderous deeds has evolved to include mothers of children. Have we overlooked, in all of these events, that the blood in the soul of our society has decreased in temperature about 20 degrees. Have we become so cold blooded that the murder of a mother in the world stage is business as usual.
I pray for us all.
Good night world. I love you