Awakening heavening
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A Market Place Story
I love the Pittsburgh neighborhood called Hazelwood. I would be blind not to notice it could stand some improvement. This place has been scrappy at least as far back as when my Uncle Jim as a teen knew that the kids from Greenfield would have to fight their way to and from the movie show here.
Too many people BELIEVE in fighting - on the streets and in the workplace - and so the planet is the dangerous jungle we've made it.
You know the story of the goose and the golden egg - how butchering the bird resulted in no more eggs. This one's about crabs in a barrel climbing all over each other in a desperate attempt to get out.
It's been said that a barrel of crabs left untended overnight will result in a COMPLETELY empty barrel in the morning. What a mystery! How did that last one get out? The wall of the barrel is way too high...must have grabbed on to the second-to-last one out and held on...
And this is the story of Hazelwood. We're afraid to love each other, but we don't really hate each other. It's just that we find it so often useful to be mean to each other. Unconsciously we climb desperately over one another, often excusing ourselves with the logic that "It's a tough world," or "I can't help you, I can barely help myself and MY loved ones..." But we fail to realize that the only way out of our collective messes IS to help each other. The way out of a problem is through it, not escaping it. Leaving for more peaceful or wealthier parts, or blaming it on the other guy, is only a temporary fix.
In the long run it's just too steep a climb to go it alone.
Humanity is at that point in history where it must be decided. Will we stop wasting our time playing king of the hill - pulling down those on top, stepping on those we can to get there ourselves? Will we help each other solve our problems? Or will we continue - acting in mostly unconscious fear - pulling at each other until it's too late?
Only love will pull us out.
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Jimmy's Jumble
The world IS a jungle, because we believe that's the way it is, and so we think we need to defend ourselves...and so our fearful actions of defense generate others to defend themselves against us, which gives us reason to believe we were correct in believing we had to fight to defend ourselves...
Jimmy's Jungle, a city garden poem
It is what we make it.
Between the winding forest roadway sought by the would-be giant punkin and the fresh squeezed breeze of the little Mister Mouse who near fell off the world already, there lies for now a cherry that was and is to be some other "thing" which will then surround the garden white with light of red and orange at night and when the "evil" groaner groans the light shall inkle to the bones of caterwauling dogs and trucks and filters doubting who to rucks and with the new be bought and stole a re-lined quite within a trite and if MY garden doth delight, IT'S MINE sez equal Sir Lord Glumly hooze willing varbish trueffy fight did enable fear to wind the tight race twixt past and pro while eye don't really unnerstan to blow and in this real quite moving far there is a more than heretofor.....A child called, "Beautiful" beholds the scene but sees afar where all is lean and when the sweet air fails to light she only notes the crossing flight of hawk and buzzard and snake and kite and with this willing abroad she might...
[2 b continued]
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for hazelwoodhomepage.com
======
A Market Place Story
I love the Pittsburgh neighborhood called Hazelwood. I would be blind not to notice it could stand some improvement. This place has been scrappy at least as far back as when my Uncle Jim as a teen knew that the kids from Greenfield would have to fight their way to and from the movie show here.
Too many people BELIEVE in fighting - on the streets and in the workplace - and so the planet is the dangerous jungle we've made it.
You know the story of the goose and the golden egg - how butchering the bird resulted in no more eggs. This one's about crabs in a barrel climbing all over each other in a desperate attempt to get out.
It's been said that a barrel of crabs left untended overnight will result in a COMPLETELY empty barrel in the morning. What a mystery! How did that last one get out? The wall of the barrel is way too high...must have grabbed on to the second-to-last one out and held on...
And this is the story of Hazelwood. We're afraid to love each other, but we don't really hate each other. It's just that we find it so often useful to be mean to each other. Unconsciously we climb desperately over one another, often excusing ourselves with the logic that "It's a tough world," or "I can't help you, I can barely help myself and MY loved ones..." But we fail to realize that the only way out of our collective messes IS to help each other. The way out of a problem is through it, not escaping it. Leaving for more peaceful or wealthier parts, or blaming it on the other guy, is only a temporary fix.
In the long run it's just too steep a climb to go it alone.
Humanity is at that point in history where it must be decided. Will we stop wasting our time playing king of the hill - pulling down those on top, stepping on those we can to get there ourselves? Will we help each other solve our problems? Or will we continue - acting in mostly unconscious fear - pulling at each other until it's too late?
Only love will pull us out.
======
Jimmy's Jumble
The world IS a jungle, because we believe that's the way it is, and so we think we need to defend ourselves...and so our fearful actions of defense generate others to defend themselves against us, which gives us reason to believe we were correct in believing we had to fight to defend ourselves...
Jimmy's Jungle, a city garden poem
It is what we make it.
Between the winding forest roadway sought by the would-be giant punkin and the fresh squeezed breeze of the little Mister Mouse who near fell off the world already, there lies for now a cherry that was and is to be some other "thing" which will then surround the garden white with light of red and orange at night and when the "evil" groaner groans the light shall inkle to the bones of caterwauling dogs and trucks and filters doubting who to rucks and with the new be bought and stole a re-lined quite within a trite and if MY garden doth delight, IT'S MINE sez equal Sir Lord Glumly hooze willing varbish trueffy fight did enable fear to wind the tight race twixt past and pro while eye don't really unnerstan to blow and in this real quite moving far there is a more than heretofor.....A child called, "Beautiful" beholds the scene but sees afar where all is lean and when the sweet air fails to light she only notes the crossing flight of hawk and buzzard and snake and kite and with this willing abroad she might...
[2 b continued]
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posted by St. Jim the Composter at 9:34 AM
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