Aboriginal Innocence

Lately, I’ve taken to kidding my mother, saying things like, “I’m pretty stupid, ya know.” She gets offended because she likes to think I’m pretty smart. Being not without compassion, I clarify my definition of stupidity by placing it into a less pretty, yet larger context; one of awareness vs: ignorance. Then, I kid her (ease her concerns) by saying, “I said I was stupid. I didn’t say I was ignorant.”

Of course, this form of braying tends to lead the conversation towards defining ignorance and discerning it from stupidity. For me, ignorance is simply our capacity to ignore the bigger picture; enabling an expedient (and generally narrowed) perception of reality.

A lot of my kidding around is associated with money matters. “No, mom, I’m not smart, I’m not clever, I’m not cunning, I’m not shrewd. I’m not capable of becoming a CEO of anything except maybe a small, non-profit organization.”

Stupidity has to do with a constitutional inability to take advantage of the opportunities we’re aware of; not pressing an advantage. I’m no longer a Carpe Diem kind of a guy in the popularized sense of the word, which seems to go hand in hand with Semper Fi, and being ever faithful to a creed of taking things by force (if that’s what it takes to have our way).

Not being one to press an advantage, I will never be a great salesman (or a great statesman). But that doesn’t mean I don’t keep on keepin’ on. That doesn’t mean I don’t keep offering my gifts to the world. It simply means that I’m not relentlessly trying to take the world by storm; I’m not trying to have my little way with it.

The problem with smart is that it hurts; in an acute, sharp sorta way. The problem with dumb is that it hurts; in a chronic, dull kinda way.

If looks could kill…huh? Uh, here’s the thing…looks do kill. The way we look (the way we perceive ourselves and the world at large) helps determine to a great extent what we do and how we impact the world.

I know. I used to be clever. I used to be smart. I used to be able to have my way. I used to be able to convince people that I was right and that my way was better. The question is, is the smart/dumb duality creating a better world? Or is it turning a natural song into a bunch of accidental sharps and flats?

At this juncture, I’m content to not ignore the big picture and to not take advantage of a system that teaches us to take advantage in order to gain an advantage over one another. (What was it Lao Tsu said about daring not to get ahead?) Therein lies the conundrum and the reason why I hail stupidity (dumb ass that I am) as being as essential an ingredient in our salvation as smartness.

People say to me, “You should get smart and use the system rather than let it use you.” I reply that such behavior only propagates a system that leans towards abuse. Sometimes you have to dump out the coffee because it’s burnt and bad. Reheating it one more time is not going to make it taste any better. “Make a fresh pot,” would be my dumb ass response to such smart ass remarks.

Corporal punishment used to be considered the smart thing to do in the worlds of education and child rearing. Yes, sometimes it seems there’s no difference at all between being smart and being stupid. Maybe that’s because we can’t be one and not the other; but we can pretend to be. (Enter the shadowy trinity of ‘hardly working hard.’)

Sorry mom, I was once very capable, as I’m sure you recall, of making smart ass remarks. But that train got derailed. Now, for better or worse, you’re stuck with me, and my new condition, and my stupid ass comments.

Only a mother would put up with such nonsense. Only a mother knows that the backslash distinguishing…I mean connecting… smart/stupid is composed of fairness, patience, open-mindedness and acceptance; failing these, the backslash (which avoids the backlash) is composed of forgiveness.

I guess the intelligent thing to do is to be neither…stupid or smart…but to learn to navigate the backslash and keep in touch with our true self. Remembering to be caring, not cunning. Remembering to be kind, not clever. Remembering to be present, not busy. Remembering to do what we can without pressing our advantage.

If you can recognize when you don’t know something, you’re not dumb, you’re honest.
If you can do the right thing with your smarts, you’re not smart, you’re intelligent.

So don’t worry mom, I just pretend to be stupid these days. I used to pretend to be smart. It’s my dual/duel nature. We all have something to transcend/embrace, don’t we? Right now, I’m in embracing mode. No, not embarrassing, I said embracing. Yah, embracing, that’s it.

Come on, ya can’t really call yourself a kid without a little kiddin’ around now, can ya?

I’ve heard it proposed that:
(1)Those who can’t do, teach.
Might this imply that:
(2)Those who can’t teach, do?

What if it is true that:
(3)We are all teaching all the time and
we are all doing all the time?
Would this negate the original proposition and supposition?

Perhaps it is closer to the truth that:
(4)Those who can do and not do, ‘teach’, in both doing and not doing and
(5)Those who can teach and not teach, ‘do’, in both teaching and not teaching.

Allow me to help you up this slippery slope of action/non-action.
When is it appropriate for a parent to help their child perform a task?
Hasn’t every parent at some point along the way heard the dictum of the child
“No Papa, No Mama…Go. I do!” ?

There are many kinds of doing and many kinds of teaching.
But how many ways of doing and teaching are kind, and not just for special effects?

You might ask yourself, “When is enough enough?”
A useful question if you’re inclined to believe
incantations of ignorance such as propositions (1) & (2).
The next thing you know the poor child in you
will be muttering to him/her Self,
“Children should be seen and not heard.”

So much of what we believe is used to manage fear.
Everything we believe that is not true is used to manage fear.

Sometimes we must be still. Sometimes we must be quiet.

We have a choice.
To be busy, doing/teaching the work of ignorance/fear or
To be present, teaching/doing the work of awareness/love.

Can we be still? Can we teach ourselves to not do,
and learn to receive what is true?
Can we be quiet? Can we do ourselves to not teach??
and learn to relieve what is false???

The asymptotes of hyperbole do not limit it.
The asymptotes of exaggeration are untruths,
half-truths, falsehoods, opinion, propaganda;
singularities of all shapes and sizes
that give meaning to exaggeration
and help determine escape velocity for
breaking free from the gravity of misperception.

It’s 3:00 in the morning. A gigantic cricket is chirping on my bedroom ceiling. I press its reset button to keep it quiet for an hour. Most of the night I’ve been kept awake; by the chirping, and by my anticipation of the chirping.

Thoughts of squashing it occur to me. Why not twist off its shell and disconnect its wires? Concern about setting off the mother of all chirps keeps my boyish behavior in check. Why wake up the whole building?

Hardwired smoke alarms are code in this domain of the Matrix. I call the landlord’s office and leave a message on his machine. I consider calling him at home for some middle of the night commiseration, but restrain myself. He’s been working overtime trying to keep the oil heater from crashing. Periodically, it fails to respond to the thermostat. I have to trudge down to the basement to press its reset button.

Too bad they programmed it to be so cold here in the winter. The landlord wouldn’t be running himself ragged. Fortunately, in this domain of the Matrix, some landlords are programmed to be responsible.

I trust he will respond to my call tomorrow and that tomorrow night I will get a good night’s sleep. I need to be fresh in order to bring my car into the shop. This time around it’s the muffler.

Last time around, it was the heater and the suspension. Nearly froze my ass walking home. But the Matrix has turned up the heat in these here parts of cyberspace. I may not need my long johns.

Fortunately, I had enough work this month to keep the car going, pay the rent, the fuel company, the phone company, the power company. What more can you expect in this here neck of the woulds?

About time for the chirping to begin, isn’t it? This time I’ll just close the door. I’m on the other side of it now; awake, ever so slightly; and so ever so slightly, free from its control.

Maybe I’ll stop writing while I’m ahead of the game. I can’t sleep, but why tax the computer? It’s due to crash at any moment.

Notes:
- The landlord recently had four smoke alarms hardwired into my apartment. Turns out, it was the back up battery. Duh.
I was informed that replacing batteries, like paying for power, is my responsibility. Doh.
- The car muffler got repaired. Two days later, the car was back in the shop to replace the alternator. A personal best. Three hours of driving, three trips to the shop.
- On the bright side, after two months of being messed with, the heater seems to be responding regularly to the thermostat. All is well in the Matrix. What? Did I say that? Must be asleep again, fast asleep and dreaming that I’m blogging.