Copper Chronicles

Rising hens may not seem sufficient prerequisite for living in the world. In fact, that hens have built-in knowledge (so that they know what to do naturally and do not experience existential angst like me) is still bit of a mystery.

Returning to yesterday’s question, “Why might my life be filled with drama, heartache, existential angst, and person b. for no recognizable reason, seems to be happy and carefree?” Honest people will say that largely life comes to us all. Few if any escape it’s hardships in one form or another…

But, my question rests on a concern that somehow I am to blame. I took a nap one day, something I rarely do…and Buffy the hen died. For twenty minutes I sought relief from the incessant demands of life, I forgot them in a hopeful escape, and someone died. Sometimes being a human being is more than I can bare.

Maybe if I just did everything right? 🤔That seems impossible, too. I think that is why I fell asleep that day in the first place. The problems, responsibilities, and cares were too many.

The only conclusion I can find is that human beings are not capable of operating alone. There’s some source, wisdom, enlightenment that must be missing. It’s like being disconnected from What I may call “god” the thing which makes life complete and meaningful. And above all, the god-figure, makes life make sense.

The missing What or ‘god’ must be from another source and not myself. I know this must be true because- if I make the rules – I’d just tell myself anything that makes me happy and feel good all the time. I can be very persuasive.

Truth becomes irrelevant in this Me-centric scenario. My happiness- Me- is the object of worship to which all things including reason must be sacrificed. If all the hens in the hen house made their own rules, there would be hen chaos. Right? Daily. Everyday new problems and chaos. We may never have eggs again if the hens just decided, hey- I am not laying eggs anymore. I am oppressed! I want to be free!

The end result is a bunch of bored hens, looking for something to do, finding anything and trying everything for amusement. To pass the time is their new object, since they gave up their original purpose. How Milton describes Hell: an unreal place in the mind where I am very virtuous in my own eyes! And, Who can say otherwise?? I assert most impudently.

I may be skilled at words (at moments). But, what I say becomes completely skewed if I decide myself and my own happiness is the whole object of life. And, “I” make the rules. Forgive if any words may seem rambling. My object is to find what is true even if it means hacking through an unkempt jungle of thoughts and ideas to make order out of the chaos.

To conclude, today’s take away is: If I was qualified to make the rules that govern my existence, I’d still have four hens, happily hunting and pecking in my yard. I’d be eating fresh eggs regularly! I’d know what to do and how to do it. My life would be one ending stream of happy satisfaction, productivity, and peace!

Nope. I am no god-figure in my story. Maybe that is why we suffer? To bring our thoughts and imaginations into their rightful place, the employment of ending human tragedy. And in that employment, find we our true selves.

The word “luck” never settled well with me. Mostly because it suggests there is a randomness about life that is hard to bear.

I am up to my eyeballs in some misfortune or drama. And next to me is sitting pretty someone without seeming a care in the world?? Seems unfair.

However much randomness is part of our daily experience, I learned it is a sign of maturity to accept the uncertainty as well as what I think I know. What I know compared to what there is to know is like a salty tear and a vast ocean.

People drown in that ocean if they arrive at with all the cumulative knowledge of ‘what they know’ and deem that satisfactory to traverse it. I think that’s the difference between being ‘awake’ and being ‘woke’. Knowing what you do not know is the beginning of wisdom, at least according to Socrates. Huzzah!!

‘Pluck’ is an altogether separate word but closely related to luck, I imagine. One suggests randomness that may lead to hopelessness. I am an object of fate and powerless says s/he/her/them. The other suggests ownership in the face of uncertainty.

Pluck: spirited and determined courage.

Uncertainty awaits each. Luck is for the clueless who wander vaguely a willing object of ‘fate.’ Pluck is for those who await with anticipation and humility- the great fortune and randomness combined in the vast ocean before us!

Among things in our culture that make no sense – things I mentioned that were ‘programmed’ into our thinking since birth (like buying all our major possessions with debt), there is this saying: “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”

I don’t know where that comes from but I seems to working with Lyle, the Lion, living in my bunker. When I see him, I “Roooaaarrr!!”

It must be lonely living in a land where no one knows your language, when you are thereby rendered mute. I think Lyle likes my greeting. He seems to enjoy the sentiment that I appreciate his lion hood. And, show Him due respect.

This reminds me of the verb “to know.” There is discussion about the biblical meaning of “to know.” But this is not quite that. Now that I speak he lion’s language, we can more easily understand each other.

Imagine NOT having a common language to communicate with your close relations? Close relations can be maddening as it is…Imagine there is no hope of understanding one another?

That would be rather coarse, rough, I mean. Arduous, exhausting. ‘Defeating any united purpose we may endeavor. That’s what the world seems like now, lots of people misunderstanding one another. It feels like being stuck in a crowded ocean full of frustrated people- an ocean with no tide.

Fortunately, Lyle and I have come to terms with our shared experience. I am not Lyle’s owner, I decided. Ownership suggests subjugation. Lyle is his own master. He comes and goes and knows and does His lion things. I am a guest in Lyle’s life, a companion. Unless our purposes no longer agree, then, the lion is free.

“It’s nice to have a lion,” I confessed in an earlier post. I think the correct expression is, “to know.” It’s nice to ‘know’ a lion.

It’d be nice to be free like a lion, too. Now that I think of it…

Roooaaarrr!!

It’s possible I have failed to sufficiently “count the cost” of carrying a delightfully sweet, fun, small stray cat to my new home. Lyle started off as “Lily,” because of his/her slender stature. She was small because she was young. I mean, he was small. But, that is not the case anymore.

When I say Lyle is a “lion,” I mean sideways too he’s lyin’, as in lyin’ on the floor of my small apartment. It’s more like bomb shelter, really, the kind families dig in their back yard for tornadoes and winter storage. I have everything I may possibly need, I believe, in my basement burrow. So, in that way it is quite luxurious. And I have Lyle, my Lion.

He IS a lion. He’s growing into the biggest cat I have ever seen! I think he is a cross between a domestic cat and a wildcat. Has someone been doing cross-breeding experiments in Northfield?? Lyle, does do his cat duties effectively. I haven’t seen a creature stir in the building since we both arrived. He has that casual, calm, way of sauntering around the neighborhood as if to say, “I am King here, let there be no mistake. This is my domain. Let every scavenging ne’er-do-well that tries to breech my burrow be put on notice!”

I could’ve used Lyle when the rats breached the hen compound last year, and nearly collapsed the whole thing with their tunnels. It’s nice to have a lion. But, when Lyle lays on the floor in the bomb shelter, he makes it hard to get around. He doesn’t move, or seem all that concerned that I am walking (or trying) to negotiate our shared space. Nerves of steel, apparently, also an admirable quality.

It’s not clear who decides what time to get up in the morning which concerns me. I can’t really negotiate with a lion. Like the hens, Lyle lives in his own frequency. He has his own language and built in rules and expectations. The Lion has a say, I decided, because he does contribute to the household. He’s not like one of those cats that just lays around all day and DOESN’T contribute, in which case he’d be out on his cat-ass. Even if I needed a pistol and whip to get him out.

Lyle, the Lion King. What exactly does that make me in the shared space of our small abode??

If you are new to Copper Chronicles, a rehash is in order. The quest for happiness began when I bought four hens in a box. Brought them home. Then, labored diligently to be an effective manager.

It turned out, hens possessed ‘built-in’ features that enabled them to thrive. But, my job was to study and gauge the environmental factors threatening their existence (which were many).

So, the questions began. And answers to those questions emerged.

It may seem odd to ask the universe a question, and get a reply. But, what can account for the existence of answers to all my questions? They are forthcoming in my own language and in a way I can understand and accept. And, they make perfect sense.

The universe can’t be an inanimate object. There must be a being, who is like me sufficiently enough to understand me. And care. And can speak to me in enough detail to satisfy all my questions. (There’s lots.) The being is very patient. He seems to like me.

I think it must be Jesus, because He is the only deity claiming to know me, and love me. And be satisfactorily knowledgeable about the universe and how it works (having claimed to create it.) I haven’t asked a single question yet, that there was no answer given.

What but love would motivate a universal “Knower” to tell me things. But, for the benefit of my own well-being? There’s lots of people who claim to know things. But, they don’t love me. I know they don’t love me because they make absurd claims. When they say things that don’t make sense and I look at them disapprovingly, they sort of vanish like a wisp in the wind.

Copper, my hen friend, and mother hen of the group had good instincts. That was part of her charm! She was delightful and shimmered in the sun. She loved her friends and served them diligently. She was built with good stuff, you may say.

I guess, I was built with good stuff, too, although slightly different then Copper’s unique capabilities. I must of got a good “Bullsh*t-O-Meter.”

This is great! Jesus is funny!!

There’s a kingdom coming, of that I am sure. I am keeping my eyes out because what sort of kingdom comes, apparently we have a right to say. It’s not clear where that right comes from? Perhaps its that “inner voice.” The Conscience. (But where does that come from?)

It’s odd to be both the small child asking questions and the exasperated parent who can’t keep up with the non-stop inquiry. I annoy Myself sometimes. My head is exploding in multiple dimensions. It’s not the medical condition called “Head Explosion Syndrome.” It’s more like, I’ve been confined to a narrowly defined reality. Then, the Truman Show ‘stage’ that I thought was real… starts falling away.

The Wizard behind the magical story of “Oz” is exposed (spoiler alert: not actually a wizard). You know, that you know, that you know that 2 + 2 = 4 no matter how many men claim they can have babies. (Oops. Did I say that out loud?) It’s like when people say they love you. But really mean, “I love you until it becomes difficult. Then I don’t love you anymore.”

So, there’s lies we are told (and sometimes tell ourselves because its what we want to believe). Then there’s the greater reality which does not fall apart under careful scrutiny.

There are people who love you and prove it regularly by their kindness. There is truth shrouded by that toxic smoke I talked about yesterday in “Where’s the Manna?” The smog of lies we’re told is so that we will serve the Abominable Agenda, too. So we will blunder around in darkness, spiritless, and powerless.

But I choose not to. I defy the Lie today. I want a Kingdom to Come that is not what we see in this man-made reality- which is quickly becoming a horror show. I want a kingdom that is possible because of the greater truth that exists beyond the stage of this mad world.

Defy the Lie!