Wisdom’s Seven Pillars – Pillar #5 Mercy –

“Wisdom has built her house, she has carved out her seven pillars:” Proverbs 9:1. The aim of this series is to present a non-cliche, non-religious point of view of wisdom. I do subscribe to some religious interpretations of the subjects addressed, but wish to here, only point out the common understanding of the principles.”
Pillar #5 – Mercy
 
“compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender,an enemy,or otherperson inone’s power” – Dictionary.com
 
I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice.”
Abraham Lincoln
 
Mercy is crucial to wisdom, allowing it to function by bringing constructive resistance to the force of knowledge. It directs the power of wisdom to accomplish its highest objective, that of bringing and nurturing life. Without it, wisdom may be a cruel master, harsh and unrelenting. Religion, philosophy, intellectualism, and government, followed without mercy will surely end in violence and the destruction of the individual. I yield to the powers that be, hoping for mercy as I address my issues, learning that, as I expect it, and it is necessary for my growth, so I should express it in my dealings with others. There is no greater power than wisdom applied to a life with mercy as it’s arms to lift, to teach, to heal, and to encourage.
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03062012

Point of No Return

“In everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.” – Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

schwarzesonne

There are moments in my life of wandering, moments when I‘m breaking through the brush of mystery and intrigue in the nurture of existence, to find myself on the very edge of a cliff. A cliff of choice, the point of no return. Many choices, once made, offer no u-turns. My fate is sealed, the dice are rolled, the trigger is pulled. The air is thick with mist, the mist of unknowing. The wind blows up from the chasm of destiny, pulling my hair, pushing me back, forcing me to make a decision. I feel the ground giving way, circumstance will force my hand if I hesitate. Forward progress, by necessity, is a very definite and purposeful choice.  These moments come without warning, catching me in their frenzy and pressure. It’s almost to late. Be prepared my friends, fate comes quickly to demand of you, to smack you with reality, to dazzle you with fantasy, to ask you, what will you do? Choose carefully, once you leap, the ground comes to greet you with a startling quickness.

03222012

Frankenstein

“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”
Mary Shelley,
Frankenstein

Loneliness, dissatisfaction, and depression are all signs that my heartbeat sits in the background, flat-lined and breathless until I use it. Then I see it’s deformity. During my socialization, the malnutrition of nature and nurture led to a distorted development, an immature birth, an aborted process of creation. I patch up these defects with anything I can grab until I, a zombie Frankenstein, could attempt to imitate the living. It’s very obvious that something’s not right in this ambling beast. My expressions of adoration are awkward and stumbling, and especially given to extremes of violence and overcompensation. I’m quite adept at camouflaging their deadness with faked kindness and sweet articulations. In the world of the living dead appearances are deceiving. 
I use many things to stimulate my undead “love”. Money, words, drugs, and appearances can all be used to bring in the deformed masses that they may “love” me. I’m well aware they love my gifts, leading this Frankenstein to once again, lay on a mad doctor’s operating table to perform more abortions as I attempt to fix what can only be transformed by a power much greater. I felt real love once, when I sought a God that could deliver me from this horrid process. After I feeling it, it disappeared in my religious ideals and ceremonies which produced nothing of the vibrant love that I longed to possess. I know my last hope is in a divine intervention, and as I lay down on a stainless steel table of deliverance,  I wait for Elysian lightning to strike a real heartbeat in this Frankenstein of love. 

Hitchhiker

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist 

 

 
Pain demands my nurture forcing my mind to comprehend,
worry and pain will come, as hitchhikers on my journey.
 Do I choose to accept these passengers
 harbingers of future discomfort and agony
 or shut the door and speed past the beckoning stare.
 Find your joy in the speed of passing
 not in the bend of examinations after the fact. 
 My head turns upwards, back towards the road
 finding my dreams beyond torturous riders.