Fathers Day


A new day dawning, brain swirling around the significance of Father, am conflicted. Knowing that there are 2000 children being interned by this U.S. Government, ripped away from their mothers and fathers, does not leave me feeling much faith in the day called “Fathers Day.” The perversion of the men responsible for this outrage is incomprehensible. How do men come to be such fearful, power-hungry monsters? Were they raised without love? Do any of them ever consider who they themselves are? This U.S. Government is “led” by liars, self-absorbed, unfeeling hypocrites. If any of these men expect to be honored by their offspring, I hope they are confronted by same about their unconscionable lack of action in righting, if that is even possible at this point, the tearing apart of families. Fathers Day is a big farce, meaningless, given that there are children abandoned and traumatized, housed in cold and stark environments without their loving caregivers.

I look back at the man who raised me, my dad. He was born to a young girl who was not interested in being Mother. Consequently, he was left in his grandmother’s lap, given the necessary food, shelter, and clothing. Whether or not he was given love, I cannot know. What I do know is that the woman I knew to be my great-grandmother ‘Mama Carla’ was the last of nine children and was adopted out to a spinster neighbor down the road from her biological parent’s home. Was she raised with love? Both my father and his grandmother were essentially abandoned by their biological parents. Would this have any bearing on the fact that my father grew up to be a controlling, oppressive force in my life, intent on being the “last word” on how things should be?

My father was sent by age eight to the Texas Military Institute, in San Antonio, Texas, where he stayed until he graduated at age eighteen. He was molded by cold, unloving oppressors, which is possibly why he seemed intent on experiencing life unencumbered by outside control. He pretty much did whatever he liked, even after marrying my mother and fathering four girls. He did not listen to my mother, who was raised in a family with both her parents, loved and cared for, although I am sure her parents made some damaging mistakes that conditioned her deeply. In any case, my father demanded respect (fear), and subservience to his will by his wife and daughters.

The dysfunction in this society we call the “United States of America” is immeasurably huge and beyond help. The paternalistic conditioning of almost everyone here is deep-set, all based on fear and need for control, alienated from our innate, true Selves, initially meant to be One with All That Is, including Nature, soil, water, air, plants and animals. Our civilizations are consequently in chaos, filled with individuals desperately grasping for their share of the pie, which is, as it turns out, one huge illusion. Those men who claim the power to dictate how things are/shall be are victims of their own pitiable conditioning. They are stuck, victimizing the rest of this world and its inhabitants, for it is well known that those who have been victimized grow up to be those who victimize others, unless they happen to wake up and become conscious, aware, and change their thoughts and ways of being. But who takes the time to delve, discover their true selves?

Those men who believe they have it all are definitely not going to delve, for as far as they are concerned, they already have all the answers; the Reality of Love is not of any concern to them. They are spiritually dead, and thanks to this, we continue to live (if one can really call it that) with the atrocities they perpetrate. Only a cataclysm of huge proportion will stop these perverted beings in their tracks, something elicited from Nature that is way beyond their control.

But then again, perhaps I take everything way too seriously. If this so-called reality of this physical dimension is just an illusion and the true Reality is that of Spirit, then we who are here are challenged to let it all go, release all care, and bide our time until we are released from what could be called Hell on Earth. The cycles of oppression and violence seem to continue, no matter how consciously aware some may be. Like Carole King sings, “You can’t talk to a man, with a shotgun in his hand..” nor can you talk to a man who is taking all that he can, because if he thinks he is getting away with it all, then there is no stopping him, until something DOES STOP HIM. What that something may turn out to be, I certainly do not know. Do you?

Do you recognize your father? Do you claim your father? Is father significant? What about mother? Are either of them worthy of honor? Was our childhood experienced in unconditional love, or were we all programmed to live in fear all of our lives, as I was?

There was a time in my life where I felt I wanted to honor my father, as well as my mother. However, I have seen through my programming, have confronted my own conditioning and realized I was just as much an oppressive source of fear within my own role as mother as either of my parents ever were. I can no longer judge them and if I judge myself, I do so gently, since I do not wish to kill myself. My life is nearing its end, and if I get out of here with any love in my heart, thus I will know freedom. As for the rest of Man, may All That Is take care of All. I have pretty much done my part, for what it is worth. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” Who said that? I give up.

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