It's Getting Darker Outside

There is a lot going on right now in the world.

In just about every direction you look, there is something wicked slouching its way toward you. Pick a horror, any horror, and you'll find some vestige of it somewhere. There are even horrors that aren't yet fully realised, like the more severe forms of climate change, waiting their turn to fully reveal themselves in the hot bright lights of general awareness.
Forget the theory; there's more than enough actual stuff happening that has serious implications for the future, although the present is by no means underrepresented. Just when we had begun to think that the spectre of nuclear extinction had been banished by the finale of the Cold War, it turns out that it remains a real and ever-present danger. The fingers on the buttons have been replaced in some cases, but the truth is there are simply more places that have buttons of their very own now.
Internecine warfare, always a perennial favourite, continues in various places. There seems no end to the bloodshed and misery humans are perfectly capable of inflicting on each other, despite there being organisations in the world dedicated to providing alternatives that theoretically make actual conflict a last resort.
Economic difficulties abound. All of the richest countries on the planet are facing an imminent collapse of their financial systems, currencies, and economies. Jobs are being lost, bankruptcies are rampant, and the social divide between 'have some, at least' and 'have nothing, damn' is beginning to manifest itself in an increasingly un-civil fashion. Owing to the perception that racial differences are at play in the struggle to find a job and pay the bills, there is a growing tension between various racial groups, especially in Europe and the United States. The American situation is particularly delicate, in that the outcome of the election in November stands an excellent chance of being viewed through the filtre of race now that politics has proven itself to be somewhat lacking in truth and honour.

It would seem that day-to-day life is about to change in real and pervasive ways, since the abstracts of the market and its behaviour are of no moment to the average person. All such a one sees is that the grocery store still has empty shelves, or that the gas station offers product that is no longer affordable. Hungry children and wind-swept houses are powerful incentives for rash actions, for when the lights go out the places with generators become attractive. Eventually, such places will become targets.
There is talk of revolution. Everywhere there are whispers of change, violent change, done in the dark with knives and silent. More and more people are realising that soon they can expect less and less of what they have hitherto enjoyed. This is worrisome. They prepare & arm themselves against the day when the men come in their armoured trucks to collect what little has been laid by, and they design sinister ends for anyone who comes to their door seeking help. What happens when submission is not an option, but there is no other choice? When the cities are finally empty, having let their masses loose in the countryside, there will be nothing left but hardship and empty pockets. The bunkers will at last be silent, as the ammunition runs out and the gates fall. Those who chose the apparent safety of the camps, the stadia, the relocation centre, will find that their choice did not lead to a new beginning, and the safety was temporary and illusory. As the weather changes, and the sun dims, and the land lies fallow and unloved, the ones who stayed close will regret that they did not do more, could not have done more, and in the end all that was left was a last bullet.

Nevermore will we be safe, or free, or contented. The easy years are gone, left behind in a cloud of auto exhaust and high-density polyethyelene. The faded pictures of our young, strong, hopeful parents, who faced the future with such optimism, will go down into dust with what remains of their legacy to us. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves- unless the dice do not belong to us, and our fate is too closely tangled with that of our forebears to ever be separated.
We will have to deal with a fate not of our making, and there are few choices left.

One Of My Favourite Quotes...!

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently and die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."---- Robert A. Heinlein

A Personal Comment About Bravado & Chest Thumping

(from a discussion thread at www.timebomb2000.com)

Of late, with all that is going on, with especial reference to the indignities and outrages being perpetrated around the world against the United States by the followers of Islam, which seem poised to envelop the rest of us, emotions and tempers have been running a little hot around TB2K and elsewhere.

While entirely understandable, and certainly merited under the circumstances, I have been thinking about the flavour of some of the responses to various threads that I have made and that have been echoed by others of the Membership.

One comment that has really struck me was one that made reference to the bravado being thrown about with abandon. I wish to explore this idea briefly, and offer some clarification of a personal nature.

It is natural, I think, for persons feeling threatened or unjustly persecuted to react with a certain hostility. Of course, such hostility can take many forms, but on these pages it seems to (for now) be confined to comments suggesting a favourable reaction should any of a number of horrible fates be visited on the sources of those threats or persecutions, preferably messy and public ones.

I have repeatedly made reference to my desire to see to it that grave consequence be brought to the doors of these foreign dogs, and vowed a stern response should they ever arrive at my door.

These are not the aspirations of even-tempered, pleasant, educated, well-read, erudite persons! One does not wish ill of ones' fellow man! Ill-favoured brutes, who know nothing of the study, the drawing-room, the lecture theatre or the stage, these are to be found among those who would gleefully visit death upon others!

And yet, I am finding that many persons, myself included, would do just that.

And we are not ill-favoured, nor uneducated, nor unrefined or without manners or deference, and we are certainly possessed of the basic decency that is accorded all people who have had it bestown upon them at one time or other.

Why, then? What is the meaning of these calls to arms, these heedless rushes toward war, the many and manifold desires to crush, to expel, to defeat, to meet without preamble or question, those most unworthy who would be our lords?

I can only speak for myself henceforward.

Be it known to all and sundry: I bear these people no ill will, except in concept. While I despise their values, scoff at their notions of fairness and equality, spit on their definition of faith, and reject without hesitation their designs for mankind, they are only people, flawed and corrupt in their fashion, and as such it is my duty to understand their meaning and plumb the unspoken aspirations they are sworn to.

These things I will do, to be sure, provided they touch not my shores.

They can have all the 7th century hells they want, if they keep them close.

Sharia law is theirs for the asking, if it remain a local custom.

Their women and children may be treated according to pretext, if I can be excused.

All of these, and more besides, are not my bailiwick, nor am I to judge.

But they will not do it here. They shall not do it, here.

And this is where my sense of decency, my desire to be a good and peaceful person, diverges from my innate sense of morality, my perception of right and wrong, and my sworn duty to defend and keep from harm my family and community. Here, then is the division between simple, adolescent bravado, that bravery-at-a-safe-distance that causeth good men to blush, and a quiet, firm, inexorable determination to ensure the security and well-being of those I love, and the land I hold dear.

I have no issue with different ways of life, of varying custom and creed, of divergent views and free opinion oppostional. But I expect to be treated in kind, with equal deference for my choices, my ways, my thoughts and conclusions, which no person, regardless, has the right to gainsay, unless I have been so ungentlemanly as to cause harm or hurt to another.

This, say I, is fair and just.

I certainly expect, also, that my way of life shall not be questioned nor adjusted to meet the wishes of others, from outside, who do not share my values, who only desire conquest, and that by their own admission, who would have me submit in fear of reprisal, the moniker of 'racist' or 'intolerant'.

These things I will resist, if they are brought to my door.

There are many things about my culture that the muslims find objectionable. In many ways, I agree, and I want nothing more that to have the burdens of democracy and free will lifted from the shoulders of my bearded brothers, for they are not capable of the weights thereof.

I would also ask that they not follow my soldiers and businessmen and bureaucrats back to this land, seeking its riches, but to stay in their own, now that it has been made bereft of infidel and international aid worker alike, and apparently more worthy.

In sum, then, I have no problem with the mullah and the muj, the imam and the intifada, provided that they remain in their countries of origin, among friends. My ire will be considerably roused, however, should these things be visited upon me and mine in any considerable fashion, for then the way forward will be clear, and it will be littered with unsavoury things that used to be jihadis.

That is my vow, and these are the bounds of my choices.

Fear and Doubt

As I get older, I am finding that the certitude that has marked most of my adult life is slipping from me, by degrees inexorable, leaving me at times fearful and unsure, both conditions being quite unfamiliar.  This is a bald statement, to be sure, but if I am honest, it is also a truthful one.  I have noticed this effect only through indirect observation:  where decision-making was once a relatively effortless process, without much in the way of doubt or hesitation (I allow myself to be wrong, but never indecisive), of late it seems to take longer for me to see the appropriate choice, beset as I seem to be by doubt, confusion, and my own version of the soul-rending horror known as 'paralysis through analysis'.
There are just so many choices. The predicament facing humanity has many, many causes, arising from factors both involuntary and deliberate. When assessing the hows and the whys of those factors, it is extremely difficult to understand the process of our imminent arrival at a most hellish destination. Determining a response to that arrival, down here in the mud where most of us live, is proving to be most troublesome.
I have spent a greater portion of my life, then, achieving the ability to precisely and accurately fail to formulate a useful plan.
I have a satisfactorily exquisite insight into the workings of the modern nation-state, but I do not know how to farm. I understand international economics, and can explain the difference between the Chicago and  Austrian economic schools of thought, but I really do not understand how to butcher a deer. Ask me anything you like about the social underpinnings of the military and how oppression is fostered by the banks, but if you need to know where the best wild berries usually are to be found, you'll need to ask someone else.
I can articulate so much about how we got here, and why the solutions to our problems will not be found in better solar arrays, or more efficient batteries, or wind farms, or high-density communities instead of cities.
I have made it my business to understand the meaning of liberalism, the intricacies of stock markets, the fallacy of popular elections, the curse of trade unions, the destructiveness of entitlement mentality. I understand economies of scale, and the relation between complexity and fragility, and why organisation is necessary for survival. 
I know how we got here, and have some ideas about similar outcomes can be avoided in the future, if there is one for humanity.
None of this is useful to me, however, if my son starves because I could not feed him.
I had hoped that all this knowledge would be of use, to explain and articulate, to illustrate and shed light, to exemplify and elucidate. Questions would be asked, once the smoke had cleared, and I would have answers.
It all seemed so sensible, so worthy, to be able to explain what had happened to us, why the switches on the darkened walls no longer brought forth the light, why the toilets did not flush, what the big glass-fronted boxes in so many kitchens were for.
To be able to keep on keepin' on did not seem enough. Simple survival was not sufficient. There had to be an ability to express why, to provide an answer to the questions and accusations. Someone had to know what had happened, how and why it had happened, so that the lessons were not lost in the smoke and fog of despair.
Then my son arrived, and I now fear that my efforts have been in error, that I have wasted the chances I had to be better able to live on, to provide, to foster, to care. I fear that I have been remiss in my studies, that more practical skills would have been the more prudent choice, that there is so much I do not know that I should as a parent.
I fear that the darkness ahead will test me on things I did not study for. And the musings or ravings of all those who have gone before will be as nothing in the simplistic face of starvation.

The end of some things...?

The year is beginning to wind down, though the sun is still warm and the days gracious and the wildlife active.  Despite the summer fun still to be had, I at least can feel the turning of the season, the hush that is just starting to creep into view, like a backdrop poorly-lit.  It might be my imagination, to be sure, but I have learned that such things are too easily disregarded in the full light of day, usually at one's peril.  So I persist in my conviction, even as I enjoy the season and make use of the time available.  What else is there to do?
My wife and I were discussing things the other night, and I expressed how odd it was to be here, finally, with 2012's end in sight, this thing that has at least partially informed a great many of our decisions for the last 14 years, ever-present, always hovering at the back of our minds, whispering 'Don't forget...'.  And here we are, the last few months before the culmination of all those plans, endless discussion, miles of research, and several relocations.
It is a strange feeling in a strange place, but we have lots to do and to occupy our time.  Our son just turned a year old, and we are having such a blast with him that the world outside has lost some of its menace, at least for the present.  That sounds a little weird, for there is much to be concerned with beyond the walls of our life, but so much of what we might face is either far away, or imaginary, or false, or a contrived scheme to make people afraid of each other, that we simply don't have the inclination to worry about it.  What will be, will be, and there is little we can do to arrest or divert it.  We can only do the best we can, for ourselves and our son.  He will have to deal with in fact what his parents have spent a long time dealing with in theory, and so his path will look very different from ours.  We are intent, however, on ensuring that he will have the tools he needs to respond to the coming changes in a positive and useful way.  Indeed, we have already begun this process...
Nevertheless, we are increasingly concerned by the things we see around us, and in my darker moments I notice potentials that give me pause when I consider the future.  So much of what is happening is needless, and there are so many things afoot that are considered problems and threats that are not, in fact, either, while the real threats go unremarked and unexamined.  It is these things that will prove our undoing, societally speaking, since they constitute overwhelmingly the power to destroy the whole of human artifice, or at the very least, to render what might remain irrelevant and without potential.
Perhaps the Solstice this year will pass like any previous one, without event of note.  That will not, however, clear the slate; it will simply mean the timetable has shifted, that the equation has been re-balanced with different terms.  The systemic, endemic, eternal problems besetting humanity will not have been resolved, but their unfolding merely re-scheduled.  We know this, and we are saddened by this, but we will continue to love our son, each other, and the Earth, for as long as we are able.  For the rest, each shall be addressed in its turn, according to need, as required, in a calm, precise, military manner.  And that shall have to be sufficient.

Take That, Doom-and-Gloom!

I have spent most of my adult life trying to answer a deceptively simple question: Why does the world look the way it does?
I don't mean the biosphere in general. I mean the human world, the built environment, the structures and cultures and systems that collectively encompass the whole of human experience. It has been clear to me for a very long time that our way of life has a rather limited future, akin to the kind of self-restricting situation that a group of shipwrecked sailors, adrift on a raft, would find themselves in as they tore up the raft to provide fuel for their fire.
Our career here on Earth seems to be tumbling head-long toward the same sort of finality, for a thousand different reasons motivated by a million innocent decisions that were taken in good faith and in isolation. There is little evidence that our predicament was promulgated by conspiracy, although absence of evidence is not the same as evidence of absence. We face the inevitable results of exuberant growth within a finite environment with limited resources, limited carrying capacity, and limited ability to absorb our waste products.
This does not make us bad people, or a failed species, or an evolutionary dead end. It does mean that we are no different than innumerable other species that came before us, acted as we have, and eventually so polluted their environment that it was no longer able to support life of their type and specific requirements. This left the field open for other species adapted to live on the wastes left over, which flourished in their turn, and so on.
This process is called succession, and is one of the inviolable laws that governs biological activity on this planet.
We are having a real problem accepting these facts. We believe we are different, we believe we are immune from the laws that all other species are subject to, and we thus resist an active recognition of the ways in which the biosphere is warning us that time is short, and in fact it is likely that it is already too late for us to do anything about our behaviours and lifestyles.
I have come to the conclusion that all our problems begin with population size. There are simply too many of us, living resource-intensive lives, for the earth to effectively compensate for. This is a fact. Arguments to the contrary inevitably either ignore certain salient portions of the population equation, or include rather juvenile factors such as the ability of the market to develop alternatives that will alleviate the difficulty-du-jour that are at best wishful thinking.
Absent our enourmous population, we might have a chance to really come to grips with our growth-based perspective on our relationship to this planet. We might have the opportunity to develop a different ethic, based on balance and ecological humility, that would allow us to live harmoniously and respectfully within the limits set by the natural systems that we depend on.
Unfortunately, this will not be the case. We have had our chances, and spurned them on religious, emotional, economic, political, or moral grounds, and so the stage is set for the endgame imposed by any ecosystem whose existence is threatened by the species supported by it: Negative feedback loops activate, and a process called 'die-off' begins...
I felt that population was the key to all other problems. I felt that having a child at this point in history was irresponsible, immoral, and flew in the face of any kind of respect for the environment. I felt it so strongly that I had a vasectomy a few years ago, prepared to put my money where my ethics were.
I have since had that procedure reversed at great expense, and my wife and I are busy with the task of conceiving a child.
What has happened here? Am I a hypocrite? Have I lost my sense of ethics, values, and principle? Is the massive amount of information I have collected concerning the technical where-fores and whence-come-we's of how we got here been somehow rendered irrelevant?
No.
It has been made known to me that life, any kind of life, is the most precious thing in the universe. That the earth is a variable, changeable place that operates on a timeframe previously unguessed and never witnessed by anyone now living. That we are just another in a very long line of species that did as we are doing, albeit not on the scale or to the extent that we are doing it.
That there must be someone to carry on the great adventure that is humanity.
I am by nature a cautious optimist, but I am not stupid. The times to come will be fraught with extreme difficulty and unimaginable hazards. If anyone is to survive, they must be taught to do so. More than this, however, they must also be taught the difference between mere survival and worthwhile living. That there will be a time for a certain toughness in their decision-making, followed by a time for whole-hearted compassion and unquestioning love. That honour, integrity, truth, and faith are still worthy of devotion...
My wife and I have decided to have a child, not because we believe in that old cop-out that 'our kid might be the one to save the world', and not because we are hoping for the best. We aren't brainless animals that can't control our biological imperatives to breed, and we are certainly not particularly stupid. We are having a child because any future chance our species has at a kind of long-term survival will depend on changing the way we relate to the earth, first and foremost, and we will begin that process by educating our child with the things we have discovered in our researches, the things that will make a difference, the components of a new paradigm that will enable a sense of balance between humanity and the earth.
The paradigm of growth-at-any-cost-cause-the-bible-says-it's-okay that has driven our species for the last thousand years must be undone and unlearned if we are to continue. We need to enlist the help of the next generation to do this, since we cannot complete the task by ourselves. There is simply too much to do and insufficient time in which to do it.
What haunts me is how to explain why their lives will have the character I fear they will. Hardship, privation, danger, shortened lives, and a seemingly endless time of misery will be their lot, and the answer to the question 'Why?' will be very, very difficult to produce.
That said, in the face of so much potential for despair, and so many factors contributing to a certain bleakness in one's outlook, what greater expression of optimism can there be?

Just This Once, Let's Not Reminisce

At long, long last, 2009 is officially over with. Dead. Finito. Kaput. And what a relief it is to say this.

What a year. We knew that it would be a year of great, sweeping change, but we had no idea what that simple statement would translate into practically. It's a good thing that knowledge was reserved for the rear-view mirror, too, else I am not sure we would have been so stunningly successful in negotiating the slings and arrows of these, our outrageous fortunes.

New Year's is usually a time for reminiscence and a taking of the stock of the year just past, but I have decided, and my wife has thoughtfully agreed, that we will give this activity a miss this year. We know what fucking happened, and we know what didn't, and we do not need to revisit those events in the interests of clarity or indulgent review. Actually, the less said the better, as it caused us both a great deal of pain and anguish and irritation and frustration and... but I am reminiscing, aren't I? Ooops.

Better to look forward to the year just begun. We have so much to do. And, best of all, we will get the chance to do it all, despite how things looked just five months ago.

That's the great thing about nightmares. No matter how terrifying, how desperate and evil and scary, eventually you will wake from them, and feel the relief at your safety, and realise that even though you are covered in sweat and your joints ache from tension, all is well, and will continue to be so.

We are just getting to the dream that the nightmare was prelude for. And we are ready to go forward and live that dream.

I hope your 2010 turns out to be as fantastic as ours is going to prove.

Is It Over Yet?

Wow, what a year it has been.

We knew that 2009 was going to be a year of great changes, personally and generally, but I had no idea what that would become. Tentatively, I have begun to look back over the past twelve months, being gentle and painstaking in my traverse. There is a lot of hurt here, as well as joy and triumph, and I am still a little fragile even now. I can't deal with a lot of in-depth soul-searching, and I don't want to relive the madness I endured over the summer, but I can at least acknowledge the process and rebuild that sense of wonder I felt at the way things work out. I need to remember that things always work out.

I mentioned the other day to my wife that I had noticed how things seemed to be consistently going our way; nothing major or huge, just a series of little things that have resolved in our favour, a progression that has made me begin to wonder when I should start expecting the other shoe. She replied that this is not something to be amazed at; now that we aren't fighting it, and allowing the flow to work, this is how things should have been all along. I felt a little ashamed. I felt cheated of the years, all the time spent resisting the good stuff. I felt that I had let my wife down.

She would say, though, that everything happens in its' time. She would say that there is no blame. She would say that the moment is all that matters. And she would be correct.

I have learned so much this year, and I am a happier, stronger, more contented person because of it. I am pleased at the way things have turned out, but still I feel a small sense of disappointment, as if something is holding me back. Something is blocked. It is a subtle one, this feeling, and I had not really noticed it until I wrote it down just now. Stephen King says that people don't really know what they think until they write it down, and I have been surprised by this phenomenon ever since I read that. Still, I will give this some thought over the weekend and discuss it with my wife at some point.

I don't want the ride to end. Things are going great just now, and I think my fear is that this is only temporary bliss before the next round of horror. I am resolved, however, to ensure that clarity, peace, and balance remain my watchwords, now and forever more.

Despite the clouds on the global horizon, which we are well aware of, there remains joy to be found in the simplest of things. And we notice these.

We will continue, and improve, and be blessed in all things.

Where we live now

The snow is beginning to accumulate as I write this from the safety of our warm house. We live on a landform called an alvar, which is a not-terribly-well-understood formation characterised by primarily flat topography, very thin overburden, and a high water table.
This area is officially known as the Carden Plain, and is a provincially recognised Important Bird Area. It is host to the last 300 or so breeding pairs of Northern Shrike, as well as being beset by multitudes of other winged warriors year-round. My wife and I have even, on three occasions, positively ID'd a three-toed woodpecker in our wood room, which is extremely rare and an occasion for kudos. We will get a picture someday, and then the sighting will be official.
Our road is a dead end, and traffic on it is restricted to locals, the odd snowplow, the postal carrier, and, in the spring and summer, hordes of city people come to ignore property lines in their desire to see the birds. Dressed in identical Tilley hats, imitation Banana Republic cargo vests, and sporting very large and obviously expensive optical equipment, they rather rudely block the narrow back roads and yell imprecations when a local attempts to negotiate the resulting obstacle course.
For now, though, the snow is falling rather thickly, the fire is settled, and the cats are lazy. We have nowhere we need to be today, though if we did have a destination we could get there thanks to our trusty Subaru. Even if the power were to fail, we would not really notice, since we have a stove for heat, lots of wood to burn, and several options for cooking purposes.
We love living here. It is not, despite appearances, the middle of nowhere; there is lots of somewhere all around us. Ours is thus a little oasis of nowhere in the midst of the chaos that surrounds this area, and even though it seems isolated and lonely, this is manifestly not the case.
My wife is particularly firm on this point. Her family was appalled when they saw what we had moved to, soon after we took up residence here. They thought I had purposefully isolated her from them. They thought that I was so neurotic, so hateful, that I had engineered a means by which my wife would be completely under my control at all times. They thought I had even refused to allow her a driver's licence for the same reasons.
What they did not know, and have since been appraised of, is that all this was her idea too. We moved here in mutual agreement, citing the privacy, the awesome silence, the space, the calm, as being of primacy. She had no licence because she had not wanted one. Her choice.
And we continue to love it, even though getting anywhere requires a car. That's the way it is out in the country. There are some other things that go with this beautiful territory....
The only gunfire you hear out in these parts is the sound of somebody filling their larder, not settling a score or completing an initiation or proving a point or scoring some smokes.
There is no street racing, other than the odd encounter with a road-filling combine.
The police have an average response time of forty minutes upon getting a 911 call. This is not because they are lazy or indifferent; this is because they have a huge territory to somehow cover. And so on.
This life we have is wonder-filled, and we find that our education really allows us to appreciate the land around us, the antics of the wildlife, the reasons why things look the way they do. It is nice to not have to lock our doors at night, either on the house or the car. Crossing the road does not involve taking one's life in one's hands. We don't even have salespeople, Jehovah's Witnesses, Mormons, or survey-takers show up out here. And that's the way we like it.
Anyone who has an objection to that should really stay in the city, where it is apparently much safer. If you must come up here, try working on your manners first. We don't take kindly to rudeness, and we certainly won't welcome you back.

2012 and the Suspension of Reason

"...That which we do not understand only appears irrelevant..."

My wife and I went to see Mr Emmerich's latest offering on opening night.
Given his movie credits thus far, we were unsurprised to discover that he had taken on the idea of 2012 and the myths surrounding it. We have a copy of the book we suspect this film to be inspired by, and it is a fabulous read.
That said, the film left us a little disappointed, from the science end of things. For example, if the sun were to be emitting CME's of the size described in the early part of the film, we would be seeing auroras of a biblical scale. This little detail was not shown, although I could certainly see that some things had to be left on the cutting-room floor. The visuals are breathtaking, however, and the oblique reference to the uranium deposit under the Yellowstone Caldera, in the form of the nature of the explosion once the park begins to unzip, was a direct reference to the above-mentioned book (Apocalypse 2012 by Lawrence Joseph). We also noted the extremely fast reference to Ontario as being a source of confirmation for the neutrino activity being observed in India; this is, of course, a nod to the neutrino counter in Sudbury.
Little details that make a film worth seeing, and make me happy to notice them. A great film, and definitely worth the seven bucks to see in theatre...
The rather rare effort by NASA to debunk the 2012 mythos and calm any panic that was released on Wednesday last week disappointed me somewhat. NASA essentially went through some questions, dealing with our passage through the plane of the ecliptic and the possible existence of Nibiru, and in each case defended it's assertion that nothing will happen three years from now by asking 'Where's the science? Where is the evidence? Where is the proof?'
Absence of evidence is not the same as evidence of absence, and only a complete fool would presume otherwise. NASA said that no credible scientist in any way supported the idea that something of a deleterious nature will occur around the magical end-date of the current Mayan calendar. My wife and I have assertions from credible scientists saying exactly the opposite, but recall the revised version of Newton's Third Law: For every expert, there is an equal and opposite expert.
What I find arrogant about this is that NASA is displaying the hallmarks of institutionalised science world-wide: we will conveniently ignore and ridicule anything that does not conveniently fit with current models. There is tenure at stake, people. Careers and reputations to defend. Government and private sector funding to secure. Money to be made using the old paradigm.
I am to understand that, in the august opinion of NASA, remarks and writings made thousands of years ago by peoples belonging to civilisations that a) lasted a lot longer than ours and b) achieved things that we cannot equal with all our technology and expertise, are to be simply regarded as irrelevant and without merit or value because we cannot comfortably understand them? Information that has been, against all odds, placed into our hands at the end of a three-thousand-year cultural relay race is to be discounted out-of-hand because to acknowledge it would threaten the very underpinnings of our society? The ancients knew nothing? They were simply playing games? Ignorant savages that just happened to know a thing or two about architecture that lasts?
Every ancient culture we have a name for tells essentially the same story: at around this time, the planet undergoes another iteration of a cyclical process, a renewal of sorts, that marks the end of one age and the beginning of another. Even a casual study of evolution shows this same process: long periods of evolutionary fun and games during which fish turn to amphibia turn to mammals, and then a comparatively brief but intense period of global change that wipes the slate clean for the next stage of development. Real estate developers do this all the time, razing existing buildings to powder to make way for spanky new buildings that promise even more.
In our estimation, 2012 and the years surrounding it do not mean the end of the world. This planet is busy with its own agenda, and change is as much a part of that as the water cycle. It does, however mean the end of our world, since things are at the point now where even small changes have enourmous effects on our incredibly complex and thus fragile human society. The human world cannot hope to withstand even a percentage of what was depicted in the film, and the Maya foretold far worse, as did the Hopi, the Maori, the Aztecs, the Egyptians, the ancient Japanese...
Let me underscore something. Complexity in any system is directly proportional to the fragility of that system. Humans have placed themselves at enourmous risk by inducing incalculable complexity into our way of life in spite of the obstacles posed by the earth and its vagaries. By assuming as an article of faith that the world is our dominion and we are here to use it for our exclusive needs and bollocks to everything else, we have also assumed that we understand this planet in its entirety and it holds no surprises. Anything we do not understand is thus irrelevant. NASA's vaunted science is beginning, and only beginning, to suspect that there is much more to this world than we thought. Our ability to see certain things, like earth processes and cycles, was obscured by the fact that such processes generally thumb their noses at puny human lifetimes, instead unfolding over much longer periods of time. The only way we can see them is through the medium of our unique ability to transfer information from generation to generation; we call this 'cultural inheritance' and it is an awesome power.
If institutional science is left in charge, we appear to be guilty of squandering that inheritance.
The Socratic Paradox is a double-edged sword. It's conclusions can paralyse or liberate, depending on the humility of the observer. Unfortunately, the epitaph of our species will likely not include the word 'humble', as we are anything but.
We are paralysed, and the time for study has run out.
I realise that this little blog will change nothing, and that the human world will run its course unhindered by reason or common sense or even a little humility. I just wanted to throw this out there into the void, so that at least I can say I said it.

The Second Day Of Our New Life...

Things just keep getting clearer.
I had the most amazing visit with my wife yesterday. I went to the college where she works when I was finished for the day, and we had about ninety minutes together. She told me many things, including a detailed description of how she feels to be back at the college and how great it is for her, and how she is discovering what an amazing person she truly is. I felt it inappropriate to remind her that I have been unswervingly devoted to her for eleven years, and for much of that time I have told her the same things (in fact, I found a letter I wrote to her five years ago that was an attempt to answer her question 'What do you see in me?' I went on for five pages about why I loved her so much, her finer qualities, the things that drew me to her so powerfully.... The funny thing is, I could have writ this letter yesterday. Nothing has changed; I still feel the same way today as I did then).
I am not offended; I realise that for me to tell her how wonderful she is is one thing ( I am apparently biased =)), but for her to actually internalise it is something else entirely. I am just glad that she can finally, after all this time, really see who she is and how much she has going for her. I am also so very, very proud of her for her achievements, accomplishments, and the way she has at last chosen her time to be happy.
The best part for me, perhaps selfishly, is that through all this she still wants to be my wife; I get to be part of this process, as our Paths once again become one. That's very humbling, as it was the first time she chose me, but it is also enervating and makes me incredibly, quietly, happy. I am really looking forward to further adventures with her, and I can't wait to see what we do next. Full speed ahead, and to hell with the fear.....

One thing really got my attention. I reminded her that there were measures we took long ago that were absolutely necessary at the time, but that eventually contibuted to the events of this summer. One example is that we purposefully removed ourselves from the influence of people that had the power and inclination to meddle in our lives, both as individuals and as a married couple. This led to us isolating ourselves from just about everyone we cared about, because we got to a point where they, too, became threats to us...
She replied that this is one reason why there is no blame in this case, for either of us. We did what we had to do; we just didn't know where those actions would take us.
That gave me a lot to think about. I had for some time been having trouble reconciling decisions and policies that were right at the time of implementation, but that had been proven to have directly contributed to our troubles of the past year. This had me wondering how much of an asshole I had been, and how badly I had fucked this up, and to what degree I was responsible for just how unhappy my wife had become, the one person I would never, ever, willingly or knowingly hurt.
She was able to explain this part of the process in such a way that it became very clear to me, and I am still shaking my head at the way things turn out sometimes.
Strange how decisions made years ago in innocence introduce things that quietly, eventually, build into the very things needed years later to resolve other issues that are seemingly unrelated.
This is really weird.

Once again, I am awed by my wife's insight, and her ability to reduce very complex issues down to simple concepts, apparently effortlessly. I am indeed fortunate.

Of one thing I am sure: with all the effort that went into creating the conditions necessary to give us a second chance at the life we deserve together, something wants us to stay united.
I guess, as they say, we were meant to be, although that is not precisely true. We do not have the right to be anything, but we have been given the chance to do it right.
Either way, that's okay, because we have a lot to do.

I love my wife beyond my ability to articulate it, and I am grateful for this chance with her. That conversation she & I began so many lifetimes ago can now continue: We get to love again.
I think the Goddess is well pleased.

So What If The House Is Messy???

I am about to embark on the next great adventure of my life.
You see, my wife is coming home.
We are both still going through our respective processes, but we can see where those are leading, and they are leading us back home, together.
We get the chance to start again, taking into account all that has happened, all that has changed, and all that has remained constant. This is a remarkable opportunity, to start over, knowing all that we know now, and getting to do things differently.
She and I have been talking a lot recently, and we have realised that the chance we have taken has worked. Her intuition is at the heart of this; without that, we would still be where we were, and that was not a good place to be for long. Despite the fact that we spent a very long time in that place, we have somehow been able to find a way out of it, and move toward something better. Something healthy.
Dark had been my dreams of late, wondering how this was going to go, where this was going to go, how I would survive it. Knowing now how she feels and what she has discovered over the past weeks, I feel like the nightmare has finally ended. I no longer carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, feeling like it is my responsibility to give a fuck when everyone else is having a good time and being reasonably carefree. My own insights into my part in how we got to where we did have shown me the error of my priorities, the foolishness of my focii, the poor judgement I used to arrive at my conclusions. And I can now move forward, leaving that self behind, acknowledging the sacrifices I made for the things I thought were important, but understanding that there are many other things that are actually important that now must be satisfied...

She asked me once, 'When do I get to be happy?' I did not have an answer for her, nor do I now; that is not my place. At the time, I felt like an enourmous bag of shit that she had got to the point of asking such a question. Her sorrow and unhappiness were pervading everything she did, and it went unchecked, unaddressed, for too long.
Since we reestablished contact last week, I have never seen her happier. Well, that is not true; once, long ago, back in the morning of our relationship, she was this happy. Then, something happened. The curtain fell, our lifestyle and its principles asserted its grip on us, and we passed into darkness for ten years.

She feels clean, healthy, renewed, reawakened, and reconnected to herself and the people around her. Her energy is purer, somehow, unfettered and no longer tainted by doubt or duty. I am falling in love with her all over again, and I am really looking forward to experiencing the process of discovering her anew.
She is everything to me, and I feel that now we are in a position where we can realise the potential of our pairing. There is so much to do, and we have so many plans....
And, she loves her wedding band, which fits perfectly.

I am not sure when she will be home. She was home yesterday, to see the cats and be with me; I had to send one of the cats on his way yesterday morning. LeStat was very ill, and wasn't going to come out of it on his own, and I tried everything to make him comfortable. But it was, it turned out, his time.
We miss him.
My wife is still working through some things, as am I, but she tells me she is nearly ready to come home and move forward with me into our future, a future I dared not hope to see. I am hopeful that she will take the time she needs, as much as she needs, but I do not think she will rush herself. There is no point, and as I have mentioned, she is in her own way brilliant. She knows what she is doing, and that is good enough for me.
I trust.
I believe.
I commit.
I wait, because the process must be satisfied. We have not come this far to do anything foolish.

I seem to be surrounded by love and light, and in part I have my wife to thank for that. What is between us has emerged stronger and better than it was, and we can certainly build something worthwhile on it.
For now, though, I am content to work on the house and know that we did the right thing.
I could not be happier.

Breathing Is Easier Than Not

The light has broken through the darkness. My faith in my wife, the courage we shared in separating, has been rewarded.

I spoke with my wife yesterday, after two straight weeks of not hearing from her at all. She assured me that all was well, we are still married, my faith in her and what she is doing is not misplaced, and that she wants to see me. She is working at the college we both attended tomorrow, and we are meeting there for coffee.

She is very impressed that I have discovered who I am without all the anger.

She says she feels better. Much better, about herself and about our situation.

I told her I needed something to believe in. She said, 'Well, I am right here.'

I told her about my three part mantra, that which I repeat to myself whenever the going gets rough and I am afraid of the future.
Part One: I am still married (she said, 'Yes, you are.')
Part Two: The last thing she said as she was leaving was 'Goodbye for now.' (she said 'And I meant it.')
Part Three: I trust my wife (she said, 'As you should.')

We are both getting healthier. We are getting stronger. We are getting better.

I am so full of optimism about my future with her. I can feel the power we jointly generate flowing around me even now; yesterday during the conversation it was almost intolerable.

She is really pleased that our diplomas are framed, even mine is up on the wall. It looks very impressive.

I can see a little more clearly now... the rain is lifting, and the rainbow I was praying for has unveiled itself.

My thanks to the Goddess... for my wife, the fairest of Her daughters.

We have so much yet to do, but it is getting done.


I am happy, for the first time in four months, for the first time in twenty years. I feel unburdened, lighter, now that I have released all the weight I carried for so long. I thank my wife for her patience, her understanding, her power, her support, her love, and her faith in me.

We are not finished here yet, but we are making progress. And that is something to crow about.
Blessed Be to all.

NOTE TO SELF: Hell is the absence of hope.

Is This All That I Am?

It's been a rough ride so far.
Every day when I get up, there is that few seconds of wakeful forgetting, when I don't remember what I am doing or the situation I am in. The most horrible thing I have to deal with, for those few seconds, is the fact that I am getting up to go to a job a very much dislike. Then I remember, the wave collapses over me, and my job is shoved back out of the limelight as an irrelevancy.
I think back to those halcyon days, five months or so ago, when I thought everything was fine. Not that everything was perfect, mind; there were nagging little things that I was trying to resolve. But for the most part I thought we were speeding along quite nicely. I was reasonably happy. The thing is, those days seem so far away, lifetimes ago, and I can't quite believe that I ever had that sense of well-being, contentedness, and every-day comfort that was the norm then. It is almost as if it belonged to another person, and I have always been this, what I am now: broken, shameful, scared, remorseful, disappointed, and ever so sad.
I do not know what the future holds. I have my plans, my objectives, my challenges. I hope that my wife comes home someday, full of promise and optimism, ready to go forward with me. But I cannot see anything past the next few minutes, and that is a new and terrifying experience for me. I have always known what was happening, what was going to happen next, where I was going in my life. Now, everything is essentially on hold while I await... well, I do not know what I am waiting for. Whatever happens next, I suppose.
I love my wife more than my own life, and I hope she is finding what she seeks. As for me, I will be here, waiting for her to come home, until I am told she won't be.
I am so tired.

It's A Test of Faith, Stupid

I have become a creature of faith.

In this ongoing lesson that is the separation from my beloved wife, I am finding that the only thing that is keeping me from going completely mad is faith, trust, and belief.
Faith in the love that drew us together in the first place.

Belief in the process we are each of us undergoing, in different ways, that must happen if we are to have a chance at a future together.
Trust in my wife, that she knows what she is doing, and that she won't break my heart in the long run.
Yesterday, I put a deposit down on her wedding band, to go with the engagement ring my mother gave me for her.
Her Winter Solstice present this year will be new kitchen cabinetry; my wife is a kitchen witch by preference, and some of her best magic happens there. So, new cabinets, crafted and desinged by moi, to be ready before I go for surgery in early December.
Surgery in early December??? Yup, I am having my vasectomy reversed, because she & I will make amazing parents, and we both want this badly.
After that, in early January I will be booking the venue for our wedding and paying the deposit on that, in addition to continuing with the plans and preparations for the ceremony. And on and on....
I am proceeding according to the assumption that she will be back, we will complete this process successfully, and we shall go on with our life together and fulfill the promise we made. I cannot continue under any other. If I were to assume otherwise, life simply wouldn't be worth living. I will not rush her, nor make a problem for her, nor stalk her or call her endlessly or any other damnfool thing. I will be patient and I will wait until she gives me something to suggest another course of action.
You see, I have faith.
I trust.
And, I believe.

The Next Step

Today is the day for changes.

My wife is leaving her parents' place, where she has been for the last three weeks, and relocating to the residence of a dear friend of ours, close to her work, where she will be safe.

This friend has a two-bedroom cottage on a lake that he is renting. My wife assures me that I need not worry, we are still married, and there will be no foolishness to be concerned with.

I am happy that she is getting out of the city. I am happy that she is moving on with her path. I am happy that she can do all this and stay true to her needs.

I just wish it was over with, that the process was complete and we were back together, moving forward with our path, our plans, our future.

I am feeling a little wistful just now, and hoping that I can maintain my trust, faith, and belief in the face of all the uncertainties that surround me. I have my own paths to walk, and my own discoveries to make. I know what I need to do, for the moment, and that's all that matters: the Moment.

That said, my wife's path is divergent from mine today, continuing the process that we have been facing for months. I miss her, but I know she is doing what she needs to.

I want us to be healthy, whole, and reunited. The only way to get through it is to go through it. The process must be answered, acknowledged, and fulfilled.

It's a matter of time. I will try not to hurry things. I will instead remain task-oriented, so that the goal achieves itself.

What is, must be.

When Will Then Be Now?

What a day it's been.

I went to see my uncle, of whom I had questions to ask. Those had to do with family history, and why my father was always so enraged by everything around him. Why he seemed so unhappy, so desperate, so unfulfilled, so damnably morose all the time.

I was able to get some of those answers, and putting them together with what I have already discovered, I think I have a pretty complete picture of what went on and where I got the behaviours I so recently disposed of.

Mission accomplished. About this, I actually feel better.

What is driving me insane here is very simple: I want my wife back.

I know the only way to deal with this situation is to go through it. I know that our paths will converge again. I know that she & I aren't yet finished. And I know that she has her own stuff to resolve.

I also know that this will take time.

It's just that I am so tired and fed up. I hate feeling this way. I miss her so much, it's a physical pain that sometimes subsides to a dull ache but usually is a sharp agony, always fresh and in high-definition. I am trying to keep busy, doing things around the house that she & I had already decided we would do. I look forward to the day when she returns here, to live again. I remind myself to keep the faith, to trust her, to believe in the love we share and the things that bound us in the first place, which have not changed.

I try so hard to keep it together. But it doesn't always work, and so here I am, alone, aching inside like I have been recently stabbed, missing her terribly, and forcing myself to not worry, to not panic.

With all that I am, I hope she can find her way back home.

Dawn May Have Broken, Or Maybe Not

This has been the worst week yet.

If anyone has read this stuff, it should be clear that I am not doing so well, despite the fact that I understand what is going on and why it is happening. Insight and familiarity do nothing to assuage the hopeless feelings of loss that I am experiencing, and no matter how much I know, or think I know, I cannot deny that the emotional component of my situation demands recognition.

And so I must submit to it. Every day.

Still, it is not all black. What I am grieving for is the loss of what we once were, and the things that we did that made me so happy, and proud, and feel safe. I am grieving for the past that is slipping away, minute by minute, into that place where memory goes to die.
And this is as it should be, for a very good reason.

It has occured to me, and my wife concurs, that we cannot move forward together until we have rid ourselves of this past. The new cannot be installed until the old has been removed, for there is simply no room left. The new life we envisioned for ourselves, with a new approach and a different set of priorities, unfortunately has so many riders attached to it from the old ways that we aren't able to move on.

This, I think, is the lion's share of what is happening here. My wife's intuition has led us here, but she was unable to articulate exactly what was happening. She just knew that something had to. My analytical skills have, we suspect, provided something like an answer to this conundrum.

This is the essence of polarity work. The strongest magic, the purest spells, are always the result of two opposites working in unison. This is nothing against gay marriage or other arrangement; persons in those situations must be aware, though, that there will be limitations for them in their workings.

That being said, I have learned from my wife what her intentions are in the short-to-medium-term. She is finally getting out of the city and will be staying with a dear friend of ours, whom we both trust, for the next month or so until she can get a place of her own in town, close to her work. From there, we shall see what happens.

She wants to be kept abreast of what is going on with our house, and the things day-to-day that I get accomplished or have happen. I guess she doesn't need the distance I thought she did.

She tells me that what I need to do right now, is to find out who I am without all the anger, the anger that drove this mess in the first place that I have since, somehow, released.

I will do this. I will continue the process today.

I am going to see my uncle. He may have some answers for me.

Blessed Lammas.

Dreaming My Wife

I am so miserable.

Of all the accomplishments in my life so far, the one I am proudest of is my marriage. My wife is a beautiful, stunningly intelligent, frighteningly intuitive, vastly compassionate woman. She carries a steel side within her that comes out at the most opportune moments, her advice is sought after, and she has a wisdom beyond her years.

The fact that I was able to attract such a creature in the first place is something I am truly grateful for. Over the years, many have been the times when I have wondered 'Why did she pick me?' I have never found an answer that explained this. I have simply had to thank my good fortune and not question it too closely.

Now, I am at the point where I am wondering if I dreamed her.

The distance between today, as I write this, and four months ago, when I thought everything was fine, is as great as the path to the closest star. I never, in my wildest imaginings, no matter what we faced or went through over the years, thought that one day I would be without her. Certainly not like this.

I work very hard in my relationships. I take nothing for granted but that which is reasonable. In this case, I was sure that this would be the last. I knew my wife's name from the time I was two, which is when I started to read. I dreamed of her, and I was told that this would be the woman I would marry.

I searched my whole life for her, and I found her, and now she is gone, much too soon.

I have failed her. I failed her as a husband, as a friend, and as a companion that she looked to for support. I thought I was doing the right thing, but it has brought me here, to this stupid blog that no-one will ever read.

I don't know how long I can do this. All I know is that I hurt, it is all-over and pervasive, a constant ache that varies only in intensity.

As my wife prepares to move forward with the path she has begun, with no end in sight nor yet a sense of duration or outcome, I do not even have the strength to plan for my own future. The options are there, but I don't care enough to exercise them. Everything hurts.

I am sure I dreamed her, and our life together. It would explain why things now are such a nightmare.