Those checks we have to write for taxes are painful, but today I am also thinking that the “pound of flesh” that we have to pay for being human and attempting to become conscious is much harder and more harsh. In order to learn any of the higher values of life we have to experience the opposite, and truth be told, we must be guilty of the opposite, leaving us with the debt of pounds of flesh to pay. In order to learn to trust and be trusted, to love and be loved, to care and be cared for we have to get them all wrong as many times as we get them right – both in how we give them and what receive or don’t receive of them, before we understand what the values are about. We only learn these things by rubbing up against each other in life, and then having the pounds of flesh to pay when we get it wrong. It’s like paying taxes. No man is an island. We operate together and learn together and figure it out together. There are taxes to pay much bigger than the financial ones for sharing this earth together. That reality part of the deal – “death and taxes.” It all works out in the end. Send the check, pay the pound of flesh and be grateful we’re working it out together as we go.
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Doctortayria's Blog 
April 15, 2010 at 11:17 pm |
This reminds me of Martin Prechtel’s stories of being a chief in a Mayan village. The villagers are always broke because they are constantly donating all their money to buy all the ingredients for their near constant celebrations, ceremonies and praising of the great beings that give them life. They believe that if they are too rich, or if a house is built too strongly that it doesn’t occasionally fall down, requiring the villagers to join together to rebuild, there is no way for the ancestors and other great spirits to get inside and shake things up. The whole way of living is based on interdependency and the fundamental understanding that it is the UNseen things that give us life, and once that is realized, everyone spends all they have to keep those beings happy and fed. They believe that the ancestors feast on grief, beauty, song and eloquence. What a stunning culture!!
April 16, 2010 at 12:12 am |
Gorgeous, Pieter. I remember this story. I wish we collectively had a greater thought about feeding the ancestors rather than resenting the government for what it requires to keep us going. Ah, thank you.