I am writing. I am writing to tell a story, but not a short one. Though it
will be told in short. I will tell a story about a market. The market is
closed but it is adorned with decorations meant for a celebration that will
never happen. The owner of the market is a great supporter of the current
nominee for mayor of this small town. They have been friends since they
were five years old when their town was a small fishing village without a
white person in sight. Today it is a haven for sex-tourism and the violence
and drugs that go with it.

His mother told him that after helping his father with picking hooks from
his nets he met another boy doing something similar. The families, though
living in the same small town for a long time, never connected. There was
distance due to some ancient feud nobody really knew or cared about. The
boys connected and the families very easily forgot about any inherited
distrust.

They chose different paths - business vs. politics. Of course one
necessarily involves knowing much about the other, especially when one is
successful. Their relationship and success complemented their friendship.
The market supported the nominee’s desire for change. The market wanted
freedom from power thieving paid off clerks and so did the candidate. They
all thought something could be changed.

John F. Kennedy said that when you don’t listen to words of protest you make
violent protest necessary. Violent protest was about to become something
seriously considered by the members of this community. Indeed considered by
members of many surrounding communities. This is how civil war begins. But
it hasn’t yet. There is still some hope and not enough despair. People have
things they care about and need to protect. Rebellion is born of despair and
knowing that what you can lose is so much smaller than what you could gain.

Just so in spiritual awakening. Awakening is more about rebellion than
anything. It is about overthrowing the burdenous lust of the mind and ego
into freedom. When you have tried everything polite society has to offer and
still you’ve been tricked and the election was rigged. When drug lords have
paid off the police in your head so that the hooker inside of you who is
needing her cocaine is willing to sell herself for a moment of safety and
some bread and water.

Celebration at the market was squashed. People were shot. Nominees and
owners alike fled. They told the people to be calm and stay at home. There
is a time to live and a time to fight oppression. In the world that is. The
Middle Path is not in the world. Peace is not created by a sense of
separation. Peace is created when people come together and learn and heal.
It is true that in the end it is not the fight that solves things. It is the
dialog, seeing into the mirror, dying in your opinion to merge with all
points of view. Love. Acting with love. Empires collapse when your actions
are from love. You might die. You may not be successful and you may not
overthrow anything but you will have learned something eternal. And in the
long run of human history you will have made more of an impact on people’s
souls.

We fight with love, our oppressor is our lover. Our oppressor is the one who
is separate from us. It is our pain.